#and we caught up with each other the other day via text and I didn’t even think to ask her if her and her bf were still together

[sadaveniren]

Hey Sada! Hope you are well ❤️

Do you personally believe they are still together? I’ve seen so much discourse on this and I personally believe they are, but I think you are very wise on your opinions and would like to know what you think!

I was talking to @jaerie today about when Louis and Harry are going to disappear and raise the baby we just know is coming, if that answers your question about what I think about Harry and Louis being together 🤣

I haven’t seen any discourse you might be referring to but I really do live by the thing the wise and now gone Fluff said in relation to Louis and Harry being together “just because I haven’t been to or seen my favorite restaurant in awhile doesn’t mean I think it’s closed”

Aka I kinda just assume Harry and Louis are happily chugging along in their life together because I am of the belief they have a healthy, loving relationship and they are no longer at the point where they need to signal/showcase they are together as often as they have been 🤷🏼‍♀️

[rxqueenotd]

The Girl Next Door part III

Pairing: Jeryd Mencken x OFC

Warnings: politics (gag), dubious content, alcohol consumption. Read the previous chapter’s warnings (we ALL know where this is headed)

A/N: This chapter is dedicated to Benadryl. I went to the moon last night and somehow woke up with this chapter finished. Thanks to @runningwiththefoxes for being THAT BITCH and @luxlisbons for letting me whine, @weakling-grace for being the best hypeman and @vivalafae for also being neurotic and insane like me.

Also, we’re staying in the Succ universe for this. Jeryd just hasn’t taken off on his political journey yet. I’ve had a few messages about this and just wanted to clear it up.

WC: 1956

I made it a point to buy curtains the next day. They would lay in a pile below my bedroom window for close to a month. The rod would become bent and the screws would wind up in various cracks and divots of the hardwood floor. I made an effort, I would tell myself, only giving up because I couldn’t find a screwdriver or a drill- It was a lie if I had ever told one.

Over the course of a week his house became visible to me through his bedroom window. He never closed his curtain after that night, rewarding me a few days later when he opened the curtains covering the bay window adjacent to the one in my own kitchen.

Oftentimes I would catch him fresh out of the shower. He would trail past the window, his hand vigorously rubbing a towel through his hair, before reappearing a few seconds later, his slender fingers buttoning his button down as he gazed out the window. He would stare out at the sky, at the old oak tree looming in my front yard, over to the inlet, but his eyes would always end up on me.

No more peep shows, I told myself, but dressed and undressed purposely in front of the window each day.

Other times, I would catch him watching me doing innocent things. Folding myself uncomfortably into a dining room chair with an old book, perched on top of the kitchen counter as I chatted animatedly to my long distance friend over the course of hour long phone calls, dancing around the kitchen as I ate raw cake batter. It didn’t matter what I was doing- he looked at me with the same intensity he had the night I fucked Evan for him to see. There was something about that I just couldn’t shake.

On Wednesday, I woke up earlier than I normally would have. A waterline break had canceled my shift at The Marina, an answered prayer delivered via text message sometime after I had gone to sleep the previous night. I rooted around the sheets for the better part of an hour before I decided I wouldn’t be going back to sleep. It was barely past six in the morning.

Thinking about him made me nervous. It’s normal, I told myself, it’s human to be curious. My silent commiserations had left me feeling dirty. My internal monologue seesawing between morality and depravity.

For the first time in a week, I dressed timidly in the darkness of my bathroom, away from any prying eyes. A sort of guilt had washed over me, the type you experience when barely any remorse is involved. Which made the guilt, or lack thereof, even more personal. I laced my tennis shoes in haste and nearly toppled down the staircase in an effort to put physical distance between him and I.

I ran briskly out the front door, my feet thudding against the cool pavement as I set my pace. I took the same course I had taken when I was a teenager. Right out of my driveway to the end of the residential area where the lopsided Welcome sign stood, around the traffic circle that connected Blair Street with Ocean Avenue, and back down Paxton Place. Rinse and repeat. Easy enough.

Running had always cleared my mind. I knew the science behind it. The rush of endorphins and such, but I also resonated with the idea of simply running away from my problems.

And then my problem caught up to me. I hadn’t noticed him at first, too lost in my own little world, before his stride caught up to mine. We stayed at the same pace for a short while, only when I had a burst of energy did I manage to outrun him, but it didn’t last long.

“So,” he blew out a gust of air and looked over at me, “Georgetown in the fall?”

“Can’t. Talk. And. Run.” I managed to get out. He laughed at me, running ahead.

Once we were home free and both of our respective houses were within eyesight, I came to a violent stop, bending at the waist as I braced my thighs in an effort to catch my breath.

“How’d you know about Georgetown?” I asked, dragging myself to the curb to sit down.

“Oh,” he sat beside me, “the McGovens told us all about the neighbors when we moved in.”

“Obviously you weren’t warned properly.”

He nodded along, seemingly agreeing to what exactly I was alluding to.

“There’s a lecture at Stony Brook today,” he stretched his legs out in front of him and looked back at me, “a congressman from Pennsylvania.”

“Yeah, Gil Eavis. I heard about that.”

He nodded. “I’m expected to be there to make sure my students show up and engage. You could join me,” He looked at me almost expectantly, “Only if you want.”

_________________________________________

To say I was nervous would have been the understatement of the century. I silently chastised myself for not having a more structured summer. To not be able to use work or school as an excuse as I had done so many times in the past when I wanted to get out of a social engagement.

“He’s full of shit,” Mencken whispered to me while looking straight ahead, “everything he says is bullshit.”

I pretended to be so deeply immersed in whatever Eavis was rattling on about that I only nodded in silence.

“Pandering to the fucking left,” Mencken scoffed, “this guy doesn’t know the difference between his asshole and a hole in the ground.”

Right. Sure. Whatever you say, Mr. Mencken. The only thing I had been focused on was how far apart his legs were spread, his right knee touching my left knee, had me practically breaking apart at the seams. If driving to the university together had been foreplay, this was practically second base.

When I thought it couldn’t get any worse, it did. Eavis took a few questions from the crowd as Mencken suggested we leave.

“I’ve heard enough,” he leaned down and told me as we made our way out of the lecture hall and towards the main entrance.

“You hungry, Olive?”

_________________________________________

We ended up at a little Italian restaurant about fifteen minutes outside of town.

“A hidden gem,” he told me as he drove and I gazed out the window at the dulcet tones the sunset put off.

When we got there, we were swiftly seated towards the back of the restaurant. I promptly ordered a glass of wine but he intervened, ordering an entire bottle.

“So,” he cleared his throat, “Georgetown. That’s heavy stuff.”

I shrugged my shoulders. “I guess so.”

“You guess so?,” he laughed and cocked his head at me, “Georgetown is impressive. “

Once the wine was served and my pulse returned to its baseline, he pried more information out of me. We discussed how I’d double majored in Political Science and Communications, with him calling me an overachiever, and then ragging on me for going to NYU.

“Law schools don’t give a shit about a double major, Olive.” Or, “You should’ve gone to college further from home and seen the world a little bit, Olive.”

“What about you?” I asked him after my second glass of wine. “Who are you?”

“Well, I certainly didn’t go to Georgetown.” He spat back at me. That same sarcastic grin I’d come to loathe and love simultaneously mirroring my own.

“Hofstra University. Full scholarship,” he informed me as he downed his second glass of wine.

“Impressive.”

The conversation idled comfortably as we both ate.

It was never awkward or forced. Neither of us gave away any personal details other than colleges and majors. Nothing of which would be deemed too deep for the light evening we had shared thus far.

“I taught high school Civics and US government in Roslyn for ten years,” he filled our glasses with the last remaining bit of wine from the bottle before continuing, “and then I took the job at Stony back in January before we settled here.”

We.

I wanted to ask about his partner. Their presence being highlighted in the subtle glitter of his wedding band. I had noticed it the first night I met him, an observation I would have made on anyone else. It didn’t mean anything to me then and it shouldn’t have meant anything to me at dinner. But it did. It meant more to me in the back of that old school Italian restaurant than I cared to realize. I wasn’t sure if I was jealous or concerned. Frankly, I was curious.

“Where’s your wife?” I asked him out of nowhere.

I had caught him off guard, his eyes narrowing at me.

“Mission trip.” Was all he offered.

“Where’s your mother?” He asked, “I noticed you’ve been alone.”

Sinister, but not at all threatening. It’s hard to be a voyeur and not recognize these things.

“A medical conference in Florida. She leaves Miami on Thursday to go on a 14 day cruise.”

He hummed in response.

I wanted to call him a dog. But if he was a dog, well, I was one as well.

_________________________________________

It rained that night. It started lightly at first, mixing uncomfortably with the humidity outside, casting the windows in thick fog. He drove slower than he had before, cursing the defroster for not doing the one job it had been designed to do.

I was blissfully drunk and the world felt a little lighter than it had when my day started. I leaned back in my seat, my head lulling to the side as I watched him thrum the tips of his fingers on the dash while his palm gripped the wheel.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he said, eyes never leaving the road.

I sat up a little straighter. “Like what?”

I hadn’t even realized he had made it back to our houses until he put the car in park.

“Like that,” he said, finally turning his body to the side to look at me.

There were plenty of things I wanted to say:

“Don’t look in my windows anymore.”

“Don’t come into The Marina when I’m working.”

“Don’t ply me with wine at dinner.”

“Move back to Roslyn.”

But none of them would have conveyed what I was feeling more so than when I crawled over the center console and directly onto his lap, straddling him with ease.

His hands rested on the outside of my thighs and he looked up at me, so confident and cool, as I stared down at him.

When I leaned down to kiss him, he met me halfway. What started slowly and deeply, turned into a power struggle of sorts. My hands roamed across his neck, my thumbs meeting at the crest of his Adam’s apple, as our teeth clashed. His hands, his huge hands, explored my stomach, nearly covering the surface area with his palms alone. When his hands danced onto my lower back and dipped low into my jeans, I felt the cool metal of his wedding band as he gripped onto my bare ass, kneading and pulling the soft flesh, dragging me down onto him in a grinding motion.

There was a hesitancy in my kiss then. The guilt had begun to set in.

I pulled away from him.

“I can’t do this.”

I scurried back across the center console and nearly threw myself from the passenger’s side door. I didn’t turn around once I made it to my doorstep. Instead, I let myself inside, slammed the door, and tried to catch my breath.

I slept in my mother’s room that night. The only bedroom with curtains.

[mygloviesme]

cool about it. || myg

no. 5: feeling like an absolute fool about it

predebut/debut!yoongi x female idol

summary: kanako is an established idol with a growing career and a secret relationship with a producer from her label, haneul. when she’s asked to work with yoongi and rm to create a track for her, she gains unexpected feelings for a certain upcoming rapper. with her increasing fame, her controlling boyfriend, a set of six boys who seem to have grown an attachment to her, and a new boy who’d give her the world, how will she figure out a way to balance it all?

(definitely inspired by boygenius)

word count: 2.8k

genre: ANGST, friends(?) to lovers, slow burn, lots of pining

chapter warnings: toxic relationship (not w/myg), mentions of mental health, grooming (not w/myg), age gap relationship (not w/myg), oc gets hurt while doing dishes so mention of knife and blood

inspo song: the gold by phoebe bridgers

FEBRUARY 15TH, 2012, 7:10PM

With lots of hesitation, I accepted Jungkook’s invite for dinner via text. Let me show you exactly what he texted:

Jungkook: kanako come over to dinner, we miss you!!!!! If you dont we’ll bring dinner to you!!!

His order caught me by surprise since we had only known each other for a short while. We’ve never even had a conversation, I don't think. 

But the news had broken inside the building. I’ve avoided walking the halls ever since a trainee I’d known since my trainee days had come up to me, taking my hands and telling me:

You still have time to make this right and take back what you said, you know that right?

I didn’t reply to her, only standing in shock. Haneul was loved by everyone in the building, he was the best producer we had. He was the mind behind my biggest singles and trainees could only dream of having their first hit be made by him. He was charismatic, charming, and a social butterfly. He was the type of person you’d describe as “lighting up the room when he walked in.” He was the dream man for a young girl like me. He had this way of controlling a room like a conductor controlling a symphony. He was alluring. 

The trainee, Aimee being her name, simply gave me a reassuring hug before skipping off, unknowing the damage she just did. After that interaction I slipped back into my depression. I stayed in my dorm and have only left once these past five days for counseling. Bang-PD was more than supportive of the idea of me seeing a therapist, saying it’s the least I can do. 

FEBRUARY 13TH, 2012, 12:10PM

I sit in my new therapist’s office. She’s short, like me. And sort of a mess, but it’s just like me. Her name is Hana. She settles into her chair with a small notepad in her hand and a pen, just like the American movies I’ve watched. 

She shuffles in her seat as she writes something down. 

“Alright Kanako, how are you feeling today?” She asks, a small beam from her face. Her expression scrunches to readjust her glasses. 

I fiddle with my fingers, “I’m alright. I’m glad to be here.” I reply. She writes. 

“That’s good to know, Kanako. Is there anything you’d like to talk about?” She questions. 

I nod slowly, “I assume you were given a run-down?”

She laughs softly, “No, not really. It’s sort of complicated, but I like to hear it from my patients first. So, to answer your question, I don’t.”

I nod again, “I was in a relationship for a while. A little over ten months. We started when I was seventeen, and he was twenty-two.” I say sort inaudibly. She bobs her head, “And how was that?” 

I swallow, “It was great, in the beginning. He would buy me gifts and shower me with so much affection, which was something I wasn’t used to. We would go out on walks at night so no one could see us and he would hold my hand so…tightly. It was so comforting being with him. But-”

“But?”

“I remember the first time he acted differently. It was in his studio apartment, our first night together. We had…had sex.” I dart my eyes from her direction to my hands. 

“It was my first time but it wasn’t his. Obviously. The night wrapped up so nicely with him holding me for so long. I felt so safe. But…he saw a message from my phone, one from a male trainee I used to be friends with. He asked if I wanted to hang out the next day. And Haneul just…” My breath extends, “He completely flipped out. I remember being completely naked under his covers and he just ripped them off of me. He was so angry and accused me of cheating on him. He screamed, screamed, and screamed at me until I was just nothing but tears. I felt so vulnerable.” 

“What happened after?” She says, writing simultaneously. 

“I crawled to the edge of the bed when he started breaking down crying. He kept repeating that he was so sorry, that he would never do anything like that again. And I held him, still naked. And the funny thing is, he was in a shirt and boxers. So I couldn’t feel him. There was still this barrier between us.” I bite my lip, furrowing my brows as if that’ll make the memories come back clearer. 

Hana adjusts her glasses with her hand, “Still a barrier? You had felt that way before that night?”

“I mean, yeah. He was very secretive. Like he’d toss me a bone to distract me, then run away. He planted these stories in my head to excuse why he wouldn’t text or talk to me for hours on end.” 

“Do you have a story in mind?”

I anxiously clench my fists.

“He told me once he had to go back home to Busan to visit his mother who had gotten sick. I mean, it was such a serious thing I told him he could take as much time as he needed. I spent the night in his apartment before he left and he had fallen asleep before me so I was just kind of lying there. I saw his phone light up, and it was a text message from a girl asking when he’d make it to Busan. I read the rest of their messages and it was clear that he was flirting with her. I’m not sure if they had hooked up but I didn’t think so at the time.”

“Did you talk to him about it?”

“That morning, yeah. And it was just the same thing. Screaming, calling me awful names, saying I wasn’t giving him enough in bed. That I was a selfish virgin.” I say, looking out the window and recounting the painful memories. I purse my lips in a tight line, feeling that familiar lump in my throat. Hana only nods, waiting for me to continue. To be ready to continue, that is. 

“And then he cried again,” I add, “In my arms. Apologizing again, saying he’d never treat that way, again. And I stayed.” I whisper in hopes to not break down. 

“Why is that, Kanako?”

“Why did I stay?”

She bobs her head as if to say yes. 

I remember that feeling I got that night when he invited me out to dinner. The cold, the touch, the yelling. 

“For the apology.”

FEBRUARY 15TH, 2012, 7:10PM

“Ah, Kanako!” Hoseok says as he opens the door for me. I give a quick bow to the group of boys who wait behind him with a small grin. In my hands I hold a glass tupperware with small cinnamon sugar cookies. 

Jin peers behind Hoseok, “You didn’t have to bring anything!” He beams and takes the tupperware from my hands, placing them on a much nicer plate for aesthetic. I can’t help the smile that grows on my face when Hoseok opens the door wider, gesturing me to come in. Just like last time, there’s boys sprawled out in different areas of the dorm. Some are setting down cutlery and plates, others set a hot pot down and other various foods, and then my eyes see Yoongi. Like instinct. 

He’s placing pillows down the perimeter of the table, but he doesn’t look at me. I hope to meet his gaze and stay like that for a millisecond longer until I give up, setting my coat on the coat rack. I’m wearing casual clothes, skinny jeans and a knitted sweater with my hair in an, admittedly, messy ponytail. Not in a very cute way, but in a way where I had forgotten I was coming here until the timer on my oven had rung loudly in my ears. 

I take off my shoes and walk to the kitchen, “Anything I can help with?” I say and tuck my arms in between each other. Nervous, nervous, nervous. 

Jin plops a piece of meat in his mouth, “Nuh-uh. Sit down, please. Everyone, actually! Let’s all sit down!” He yells rather loudly which makes me flinch. He gestures to everyone to sit around the table, which we follow rather quickly. He must be the oldest with how organized he seems to be. 

We all take a seat on the various pillows, eyeing the beautiful dinner that lays before us. I see Jungkook plop down beside me, and to my surprise, so does Yoongi. Our shoulders manage to brush each other as Yoongi settles down. 

“Why is everyone acting like we’re going to pray?” Yoongi mutters and is the first to reach for the pot of soup. He scoops the red liquid with a deep ladle and grabs my bowl simultaneously. My eyes widen just a bit as I watch him serve me. He gives me a rather large portion and sucks in his teeth, “We have lots more so, uh, eat up. Okay?” He says without making eye contact with me. I don’t smile, not even a bit. Even though it’s really killing me not to. 

His small act sends an uproar around the table, “Ah! Gentleman Yoongi. Such a gentleman.” Namjoon jokes and serves himself as well. And just like dominoes, everyone moves around, passing plates and bowls. Different boys give me various plates of food and as I turn to Jungkook who called my name, he stuffs a serving of seaweed with rice in my mouth. 

“Jungkook-” Jimin bursts into a fit of laughter. 

“What? She hasn’t started eating yet. Gotta get the ball rolling.” He mumbles. 

I cover my mouth and for the first time in a while, smile. I laugh once, twice, and eventually my hand sticks to my mouth like glue as tears well up in my eyes. My stomach starts to hurt as I swallow the rice and try not to, well, choke. “It was that funny, huh?” Yoongi smiles as he looks at me. I turn to him and nod, attempting to catch my breath. I want so badly to stare into his eyes just a second more, just like this. How he’s looking at me now. But he’s the first to break eye contact which leaves me feeling a little lost and stranded. 

We all enjoy our food together, some boys going back and forth with bits of small talk and jokes.

It’s fun watching their dynamic, observing like I’m only listening through a wall. I take bites and sips from my food every so often but I still feel anxiety rioting in my throat that makes me not have much of an appetite. 

“So when are you guys debuting?” I ask, the thought only coming to the forefront of my mind just a second ago. Namjoon runs his fingers through his hair as he ticks his head slightly, he looks uncertain. 

“Ah, Bang-PD says sometime next year.” He says, and the once loud table turns quiet. 

I look around in confusion, “Is that- should I have not-” I say faintly. 

Jimin shakes his head and covers his mouth as he swallows, “We’re all just hoping to have as much success as you had, Kanako.” He says. The table of boys all nod and I give them a warm, reassuring smile. 

I set my chopsticks down, “I know you’ll be very successful, and you want to know why?” I look around the table, “Because you all have a very powerful dynamic that most lack. As long as you have each other, you’ll do great things.” I give a toothy grin. 

I see Jungkook peer over to my frontal view, “And we have you, right?”

“Yes, you have me too.” I nod in agreement. 

“You know Kanako, being eighteen,” Jin says, and in my mind I wince as he continues. Please don’t say I’m mature for my age, please don’t say I’m-

“It’s pretty overwhelming to deal with all of that fame. You know you don’t have to be so serious and wise all the time, right?” He says matter-of-factly. 

I feel a relief rush over me and a sense of recognition. How is it they know exactly what to say?

“Right.”

FEBRUARY 15TH, 2012, 9:36PM

After dinner was finished the boys all get up to set up a sort of hangout circle. They move the table to the edge of one of the bunk beds and gather blankets and pillows while I clean the dishes, even though Jin was very opposed. You’re our guest, why are you cleaning our mess? He said. 

But after a few moments of reassuring him I was just trying to do my part and help, he accepted. I look at the pile of messy dishes and sigh before dipping in, grabbing a sponge and starting. Although I genuinely did want to help, it was still a pain in the ass to clean up after seven men. I start off with the the silverware and slowly building my way up when I feel a body beside me with a rag in his hand. 

“Oh, Yoongi-”

“Just drying them off.” He states. 

I bob my head and welcome his help, knowing it’d make cleaning the dishes much faster. We do that for a thick minute, just me passing the dishes and him setting them in the cupboards and drawers. I feel a growing nervousness, knowing there was an elephant in the room. The whole time, during dinner, during our conversations, there was an obviousness of what had erupted in the BigHit building. It’s hard to ignore a scandal like that, but I’m just glad they don’t see me any differently. Even going the extra mile to invite me for dinner, it was a big deal I was starting to realize as I roamed my thoughts during this heavy silence. I wondered if people thought they were crazy for associating with me, if they felt like the boys were betraying Haneul by continuing to speak with me. 

I wash the next piece of cutlery, oblivious to the fact that my palm had been nicked by ,what I registered later, to be a knife. I gasp and look down at my hand, “Oh shit!” I exclaim, seeing the red secretion drip down my hand. That is an unusual amount of blood. Fuck this is embarrassing.

Yoongi looks at me, then to my hand. “What happened?” He says loudly as he rushes to open one drawer after another, searching for aid. The boys jerk their head to my direction, all gasping and getting up swiftly as if I’d just been murdered. 

“HYUNG, DID YOU STAB KANAKO?” Jungkook screeches. 

“No I didn’t, shut up!” Yoongi cries, making a mess by throwing papers and other random objects, still searching. I see Taehyung grab an obscene amount of paper towels and he presses them down on my hand, “Hold it down, quick! We have to stop the blood!” He says and lets me hold my hand on my bleeding palm. He runs his fingers through his hair nervously, “Fuck that’s a lot of blood, is she going to need st-”

“No she’s not going to need stitches, everyone shut the fuck up!” Yoongi yells once again, rushing back towards me and removing the blood soaked paper towels from my grasp. He sprays some clear liquid on my wound, making me wince. “S-Sorry, hold on.” He mumbles and dabs the fluid with a tissue before placing a gauze on it, wrapping my hand in a bandage. 

“Hyung that seems a little..” Hoseok makes a ‘tsk’ sound with his mouth and furrows his brows. 

Yoongi rubs my hand to make sure the bandage is nice and secure, looking up to me with worried eyes. “Is that too tight? Is it alright?” He asks. 

I chuckle softly, “Yes, although I think a simple bandaid would have sufficed.” 

He shakes his head and grips the kitchen counter with his hand, as if trying to ease off. 

“I’m fine everyone. It’s alright.” I say in consolation. 

Namjoon rubs his forehead in stress, “The least we can do is let you spend the night.” He nods, feeling confident in his decision. I make a disdained expression and look around to the boys who are also in agreement. “You guys, please. I can make it back to my dorm.” I snicker in disbelief.

“You’re wounded! I could see your hand-bone!” Jungkook shouts. 

“Okay Jungkook settle down,” Yoongi sighs, giving me a considerate look, “Just stay. It’s late. Unless you have something to do tomorrow?” He asks. 

I bow my head, “No…I don’t.”

I see Jungkook dash to his closet, ripping clothes off hangers and piling them on his arms. He runs back breathlessly towards me, holding out different pairs of sweatpants and shirts. 

“She gets to borrow my clothes this time.” He says, looking at a defeated Namjoon. 

“Mmm…okay.” I say before the group claps and cheers. I’m shocked at how excited they seem to be, as if this was something they had hoped I would do before even coming. Hm. 

I pick out a set of clothes to wear from Jungkook’s arms, “I guess I’ll stay tonight.”

click here to read more of this story!

[adarafaelbarba]

Afterthoughts

Mike Duarte x reader

It had been a rough couple of days at the station. Mike hadn’t been able to come home and had instead slept in his office.

But after the run in with the gang he was investigating, where he was inches away from being killed, he was definitely taking some time off.

He called his ex wife while driving over, asking if he could please see the kids. “I’m not sure Miguel—“

“Please Fran, I need to see them. I’ve—I almost didn’t make it home tonight—I need to see them, please.”

“Oh my god—what happened?!” She could barely hide the fear in her voice.”

“Someone trying to use a machete too—it’s not important. Can I please have them tonight? We can bring them home in the morning.”

He thought of you, cooking dinner in your shared apartment, waiting for him to come home finally, like he had promised via text earlier.

“Yeah. I’ll get them ready. You’re picking them up right?”

He agreed and said he was already on his way. 

~~~

Once he got there Marisol and August ran into his open arms, hugging him tightly. And he in return hugged them just as tightly. “Oh how I’ve missed you both.” He hummed, picking them up.

“I packed for a few days so they can stay with you. Let me know if anything changes.”

“Thank you Fran, honestly.”

She smiled at him and nodded.

After a few goodbyes, Mike helped the kids into their seats and they drove back home.

~~~

He had called you on the way home to tell you what was gonna happen. So when he parked you were already waiting at the door for them. 

“Mama!!” The kids called in unison, running to you.

“Hey bubbas!” Kneeling as they came running you picked them both up, hugging them and kissing their foreheads.

You took one look at Mike’s ragged features and told him to go lay down while you finished dinner.

“But—“

“No. You need rest, darling. You’re not looking too hot.”

He let out a low sigh, walking up the steps to kiss you, and then went past to go inside.

“Just leave their stuff at the door, I’ll take it darling.”

~~~

Just as dinner was about to be served, Mike came back out of your room, rubbing sleep out of his eyes.

“How are you feeling darling?”

“Better.”

He picked up August and carried him to the table to put him in his chair. Then he got Marisol, putting her next to her brother.

You placed the plates down, kissing the top of the kids’ heads, then gave Mike a soft kiss, murmuring “I love you” against his lips.

As you all sat there eating, you couldn’t help but study him. Mike had been pretty lax in his explanation of what had happened. But you got t the gist of it. During an altercation he had been separated from the others, and then attacked.

He caught you looking at him and gave you a soft smile, «I’m alright amor.»

 But he had almost not been. And the thought would haunt you.

Making up your mind about talking to him when the kids had gone to bed, you went back to eating your food.

~~~

As soon as the kids were out, Mike wrapped his arms around you, hugging you tightly.

«Talk to me darling. I need to know what happened.»

«I can’t—not yet. Please, let’s just go to bed.» He sounded exhausted.

Tears slipped down your face, but you couldn’t fight him. It was his tale to tell, in his own time.

«Yeah, let’s get some sleep.»

He dipped his head to kiss you, your tears and his mixing together.

The last thing you said to each other was a soft «I love you.»

~~~

Tagging: @thatesqcrush @storiesofsvu @plaidbooks @beccabarba @itsjustmyfantasyroom @detective-giggles @appletreesinwinter @misscharlielulu @cycat4077 @alwaysachorusgirl @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @bisexual-dreamer02 @xoxabs88xox @beatrice-san @meetmeatyourworst @bullet-prooflove 

[tessatales]

The Ressurection of Love: Chapter Three (Spencer Reid x Original Female Character)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Original Female Character

Themes: Case is over and the team just want to let loose before their day off

Warnings: Alcohol is consumed. Apart from that no other warnings

A/N: Hey Y'all, how's it going? please let me know what you think of this fic! any feedback is appreciated honestly. there will be two cases that you'll actually get to see during this fic, but they're not till later. So stay tuned! anyway, enjoy :)

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 4, Chapter 5

- - - - - - - - -

“To Alyssa’s first successful case!” Emily shouted, raising her glass for the rest of the team to toast with her. Spencer raised his beer in the air. The case had been a relatively quick one, with the child being returned to the family and the Unsub arrested within two days of the team touching down in the city.

“So how do you feel now you’ve been out in the field with us.” JJ asked, turning to Alyssa with her drink poised at her lips. She shrugged.

“I’ve been out on the field before, just never like this, so I guess I feel the same kind of triumph as I would when i was back in New York, but there’s something else that I can't quite put my finger on” she explained, looking at the team as they all nodded in agreement.

“Why are we talking about work? We’ve got the next 24 hours off!” Garcia said, pointing an accusing finger at everyone as she returned from the bar with more drinks.

“Baby girl, you’re always the voice of reason” Derek replied, smirking as he took the fresh bottle from Penelope's tray.

“So Alyssa, what’s your story?” Emily said, bumping her shoulder against the newbies.

“What do you mean?" Alyssa asked, looking embarrassed to be put on the spot as each teammate turned in her direction.

“Well apart from being Spencers neighbour, we don’t know anything about you!” Penelope said, pointing the umbrella in her drink towards the boy genius.

Spencer made a point to stay quiet during this conversation, wanting more than anything to get information about his new neighbour and teammate.

“And don’t try telling us what’s on your file, cause I’ve read that cover to cover” JJ said, smiling as she swirled her drink.

Alyssa laughed. “Well I grew up in Brooklyn, did all the usual stuff.” she said, seeming to think for things to say.

“I applied for the academy a month before my 23rd birthday and I got my acceptance letter the day after said birthday” Alyssa continued.

“Wow, someone was eager” Derek commented. Alyssa shrugged.

“I’d needed a change and i didn’t want to wait to see if i would get accepted later” She explained, dipping her head slightly as she seemed to think back. Spencer caught the expression, but quickly filed it away for later.

“Family?” Aaron asked, his posture so much more relaxed than when he's in the office.

“Only child. My parents moved out to the country after I graduated college as part of an early retirement plan” Alyssa explained between sips of her drink.

"So you've got no one here?" Penelope said, her expression dropping slightly. Alyssa shook her head.

"Oh no its not like that! I talk to them all the time via text and video call, as well as we take it in turns visiting each other during the holidays." she continued, placing her hand over Penelopes in a reassuring gesture. "A few of my friends from high school are spread out between here and California too." Alyssa replied, draining the remains of her drink. Spencer watched Penelope relax hearing this, her protective sisterly instincts clearly waging a war inside her as she'd listened to Alyssa.

"Plus a few people from the academy I still talk to." Alyssa added with a shrug.

"Oh the academy, the storys I came out of that place with" Emily said, laughing to herself.

"Well don't leave us hanging, spill!" Alyssa said, turning to face Emily.

Spencer decided not to mention the subject change Alyssa has so skillfully orchestrated and instead sat back and listened to Emily's story. He'd heard it several times before and remembered every detail of it, but he wasn't going to ruin the experience for Alyssa by ruining the punchline.

"Whos up for Karaoke?" Alyssa asked once Emily had finished, her voice breathy from laughing and a playful glint in her eye as she scanned the teams faces. The girls were practically vibrating with excitement.

"SSA Andrews where have you been my whole life?" Penelope squealed, grabbing Alyssa's hand from across the table. Spencer reached over and pick up his now empty bottle.

"That's my que to get the next round of drinks" Spencer said, taking the teams orders and weaving his way to the bar.

- - - - - - - - - - -

"I love you guys" Penelope slurred, wobbling out the doorway with Derek in tow. They'd stayed longer than they usually did, the team seeming to get caught up in the music as they all took turns on the karaoke machine.

Although Spencer wouldn't of minded joining in, something held him back, his feet unable to move him towards the stage as he watched his friends sing out of key.

"We love you too, let's get you home Baby Girl" Derek said, a smile on his lips. Penelope purred.

"Hmmm, you know your my favorite right?" Penelope said, leaning heavily into Derek as he hailed a cab.

"We'll pretend we didn't hear that Garcia" Aaron said with a laugh. when a cab arrived, Aaron got the door, opening it wide before helping Derek get Penelope inside.

"Are we cab sharing or shall we hail another?" Emily asked, her head lolling against JJ shoulders in a sleepy nature. Hotchner thought for a moment before talking to the driver.

"He says we can try and squeeze in if we want" Hotch said, looking between the group and the taxi driver.

"I was gonna walk back" Spencer said, slipping his hands into his pockets. Aaron nodded.

"I'll walk with you then, if that's alright with you" Alyssa said, turning towards Spencer.

" Sure, but just a warning, it's a 10 block walk." Spencer commented, watching as his new neighbours face change multiple times before replying.

"I don't mind, I'm not drunk enough for the walk to be a struggle. Plus I've got plans tomorrow so the walk gives me chance to sober up a bit" Alyssa replied, buttoning her jacket against the cooling night air.

"We'll see you guys in 24 hours then," Hotch said, squeezing himself into the remaining space of the cab before telling the driver the individual addresses. Spencer waved as he watched the taxi peel away from the sidewalk.

"Shall we?" Spencer said, gesturing in the direction of their complex.

"We shall" Alyssa replied as she fell into step beside him.

- - - - - - - - - -

Spencer could feel the ringing in his ears begin to subside as they moved further away from the bar. Nether of them seeming to know what to say.

"How are you finding the change?" Spencer asked finally, deciding that the semi awkward silence had stretched on long enough.

"Do you mean the job or the move to the city?" Allysa replied, glancing up at Spencer as they walked. The boy genius shrugged.

"I guess both really, let's go with the move to the city first" Spencer said after a pause, deciding which one he was more curious about.

"This will sound clique, but it's so loud! I don't understand how people can live in such a disruptive place without begging for some silence once in a while" Alysa said, releasing a breath after her mini rant.

"You get used to it. Although I grew up in Las Vegas so I don't think I get a say in the loud thing" Spencer said as he kicked the toe of his white converse into the weeds that grew between the cracks in the sidewalk.

"Las Vegas? Wow, I bet here's quiet for you then" Alyssa said with a laugh.

"What about work then? I hope you're a little more settled there. Even if you've only been on one case" Spencer asked, steering the conversation away from his childhood and back to her.

"Oh I'm loving it. I was just a simple field agent before. It was all, stop this and argue that. Protect this person." Alyssa said, and Spencer took her distraction as an opportunity to watch her closely as they walked. He wasn't sure what he was looking for, but he felt his shoulders relax when he didn't see it in her face as she spoke.

They walked in a more comfortable silence for a while after that, nether one seeming to know what else to say until Spencer remembered what he'd seen in the bar.

"Hey, now you can tell me to shut up if you like; but what was up in the bar when you were talking about needing a change?" Spencer asked

"What do you mean?" Alyssa asked, her voice changing as she seemed to guard herself.

"When you talked about needing a change, your body language showed calm but your micro expressions told me there was something else" Spencer admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Oh, I forgot about us profilers and out perseptiness." Alyssa said with a sigh, her shoulders dropping back into their more relaxed position.

"My ex. He was a textbook narcissist, with a whole host of other issues I decided to ignore because I was young and naive and I thought I could change him." Alyssa confessed, keeping her eyes fixed on the sidewalk as she spoke.

"So you applied for the academy to get away from him?" Spencer continued, trying to keep his tone light.

"Yeah, if I hadn't gotten in, we'd of been going to the same law school for another 3 years. I needed out. So I applied for the FBI and never looked back."

"From what I've seen so far, the FBI would of been fools not to let you in" Spencer said, as he tried to lighten the mood. Alyssa laughed

Turning the corner, the pair arrived at their building. They chatted some more as they rode the elevator up to their floor.

"I guess I'll see you around tomorrow then" Spencer said as he approached his apartment door, turning to lean against it as he faced Alyssa's door.

"Maybe, I'm meant to be meeting friends from home. They're here for a work event and we said we'd try to meet up." Alyssa said, mimicking Spencers posture as she leant against her own door.

"Well then, see you at work I guess, enjoy your day out" Spencer replied.

"Hey Spencer"

"Hmm?" Spencer replied, stopping mid turn.

" Because of their work event, the plans with my friends might fall through tomorrow, if they do would you fancy hanging out?" Alyssa suggested. Spencer hesitated for a moment.

When was the last time someone offered to spend time with me outside of work that isn't part of a therapy plan?

Spencer thought to himself, the idea sitting uncomfortably in his gut as it began to churn.

"Sure, I have a phone meeting tomorrow at 9 but apart from that I'm not busy." He finally replied, squashing the uncomfortable feeling as it continued to flip flop in his body. Alyssa smiled.

"Fantastic! Sarah's an early riser so i'll know by 8 if we can meet or not. Shall I knock around 10 or would you like me to text for just in case you're still on the phone?"

"It's not a long call, I'll be off the phone by 9:30 if you want to stop by after then" Spencer confirmed, using his idyllic memory to figure out his average time on the phone to his therapist.

"Great, so I'll maybe see you tomorrow then, Night Spencer" Alyssa said, giving a slight wave before slipping into her apartment.

"Night..." Spencer replied, his voice quiet in the silent hallway. Slipping into his apartment, Spencer made sure to write down his concerns in the jornal he kept ready to discuss with Dr Whiting before dragging himself to bed.

[dont-end-infinity]

i’ve been going to school with this girl for around seven years. we’ve been kinda friendly ever since she moved here, had inside jokes and were in several of the same classes one year. for the longest time she’s always been a sort of background character to me, but definitely a background character that stuck out. she’s friends with my cousin, has been for years. we sort of lost touch when the pandemic happened, so i wasn’t able to talk to her for a while. but last year she was in two of my classes, my math class and my band class. she’d caught my interest again because i liked the hoodies she wore, and because she always had a rubik’s cube or some sort of fidget toy with her everywhere i went. i’d formed some sort of half-crush on her which faded when i found out she had a girlfriend. i was always too afraid to talk directly to her so it was always in group discussions via our mutual friends that we talked (she’d sometimes come over to our lunch table and talk to us). this year though, she’s in all of my classes except one (we’re in advanced classes with a small group of kids, so we all have extremely similar schedules). i walked into the classroom the first day and realized i’d be sitting next to her in the mornings, which was good because i didn’t know anyone else in that class. we started talking because we were both in the same friend group, and were both worried about a friend that had been struggling mentally. and so talking about them and asking if they were okay (she was much closer to them than i was) turned into me asking if /she/ was okay. she’s constantly claim she was just tired, which i knew wasn’t true. so as we got closer i asked if she really was just tired every morning. she told me that she hadn’t been sleeping right and that she wasn’t drinking enough water, and that she had also been struggling mentally. so i talked to her about it and told her how amazing i thought she was and how i thought she deserved everything she wanted. eventually i got her to start sleeping right and drinking water. she never had a water bottle with her so i’d always give her mine and resort to drinking from the fountains. 

one day i was doing a sort of survey where i would document my friend’s reactions to me doing something to them. it was the same thing to everyone- i’d ask to compare hand sizes, and when i pretended to be looking closer, i’d shift my fingers to intertwine with theirs. basically holding their hand. so i did that to her too. she wasn’t prepared for that, because i watched the way her eyes got a little wider and her other hand tensed slightly (a thing she does when she’s nervous). this was at the end of the day so i walked away to go home. she went the other way. i get home and check my phone and she texted me, “frick you <3” and went on to explain how she’s easily flustered and i caught her reaaally off guard. but she liked it- she said she liked how warm my hands were. (i loved how warm her hands were too- i just didn’t tell her that.) so i started doing it to her more often. at some point we started holding hands normally, which was comforting for both of us. we talked a bit and both clarified it was a platonic thing, we didn’t like each other. except i was lying. i didn’t *know* i was lying, i hate lying to her. but since we both were labelling it platonic, we started doing other things too. like i kissed her hand one time, and the way she reacted was just so cute. she pulled away from me and walked away, something she does when she’s flustered, smiling like crazy and trying to cover her face. later she would do the same thing to me, which led to me not being able to focus for a whole class. 

i started writing notes to her talking about how much i “platonically” loved her, how cute i thought she was. and in said notes asked permission to do other things. in one note i asked if i was allowed to kiss her neck. she ended up saying yes. so i wait a while, introduce a new thing. i would do the hand sizes thing and then pin her hand by her head. she liked it, and it flustered her pretty bad the first few times. then one day i do the same thing, but i kiss her cheek, and then her neck. and she just kind of looked stunned for a minute before she covered her face again and started smiling so stupidly. and that was adorable. but it got 10x better when she tried to talk and it was just, like.. this *noise* that almost sounded like a whimper but not quite. i’ve yet to kiss her neck again, but i want to soon. a few nights later, we’re texting, and the topic of crushes comes up. (at this point i was fairly certain i liked her.) so we’re both, like, describing who we like. just a few basic things. grade, hair color, gender. (we’re both pan.) and we get to the point where i asked for the first letter of their name. and she told me she’d only tell me if i told her too. so we both say it at the same time. she says a letter that’s not my initial. and i was half disappointed, but wasn’t letting that change my answer. because she needed to know. so, half reluctantly, i say “n”, which is her initial. long story short we sort it out. she liked two people, me and someone else. i liked her. so the following monday we do a note exchange like usual. and at the end of hers she asks if i’ll date her. i say yes. and we’ve been together for around a week now, a week or two. school used to feel like hell to me. but now? now i get to go to school and see her, be near her, hold her hand and kiss her face. i’d been feeling so fake, but then she made me feel so much better. so much more alive. the first time she kissed me- also the first time i kissed anyone- it just felt so right. it was quick but i could taste her chapstick for at least half an hour afterwards. she just.. grabbed my face and kissed me. and she’s kissed me almost every day since that first time. two days ago though, that was the first time she really held the kiss for more than just a second. i think it was like five seconds? but she clouded up my mind so much. i don’t remember if she grabbed my face or pinned me to the wall or what, but it just felt so amazing. i could fully take in just like, how warm her lips were, and how soft they were too. i just want her to do it again but i have to wait to see her another two days. the wait is killing me. but she makes me feel so good i know it’s worth it. i love her so much, she makes me feel so stupid. she’s perfect to me. 

[automatismoateo]

I wish religious people could see the world from an objective point of view for just one day. via /r/atheism

I wish religious people could see the world from an objective point of view for just one day.

Especially missionaries and hardcore religious people make me sadder over time. I don’t mean any harm or wish anything bad for a single person, but I can’t express how much it would mean to me if religious people could just see the world objectively for a SINGLE day and make up their minds. (Yes, everyone would stop believing)

This has been on my mind for a few weeks now and today is the day my fuse actually caught on fire. I have been in a relationship with a christian girl – I know what you think, but I’m not here to discuss this. We have been together for six years now and I don’t love her religion, but her as a person and I really do not care much about future topics that *will* come up as long as there’s respect for each other’s beliefs. I am willing to end even this long relationship when that basis is no longer given.

**Skip the paragraphs in brackets if you don’t care about the personal backstory and only the stuff more relevant to this sub.**

[Anyways, the reason I am writing this specifically is music, though, I’m convinced you can apply this whole text to almost anything in life.

I enjoy listening to heavy music (what a stereotype of a non-believer for many narrow-minded people) and obviously that’s about the devil. Right? We all know that; well, at least religious people do. My girlfriend never liked it but accepted it and didn’t say a word about it up to this day. She listens to a LOT of worship music which I personally find totally horrible. Now, today she expressed her concerns about the fact I’m going to a Rammstein concert this summer. Stating the band is satanic, dark powers are present on their concerts and what not. Great thing is she’s on a 5-week trip at the moment and didn’t have the guts to talk about it *before* leaving. Yes, sub-optimal, I know, I know.

Anyone who has looked at their texts knows that’s bullshit and the truth is that they’re just often criticizing religion and society, for example. I just stated my point of view briefly and said we’re finishing that discussion when she’s back. Still, I was interested in where she got that “information” about the band being satanic, etc. so] I read up on some christian forums because my girlfriend expressed her feelings towards my lack of belief and DAMN why can’t these people just accept other points of view like we do in this community? We don’t have to get involved in their personal lives face to face or on the internet and tell them to stop believing, simply live and let live!

I normally don’t deal with religion more than necessary. I do enjoy learning about it to the extent that it contributes to understanding different points of view and also mine, but that’s it. Know your enemy, right? And what I read over the last couple of minutes really got my blood boiling. If everybody just keeps their business to themselves, I’m fine with different ideologies and world views, although you can’t truly deny science.

There are too many people who think everything that doesn’t fit in their belief system is satanic. They can’t explain it – so it must be wrong. They don’t know details – they judge. It isn’t what they were told by their parents or priests – it’s got to be the devil’s work. I know this isn’t a new thing, I just saw too much of that during the last weeks and needed to rant.

I see the problem on a personal level and don’t need relationship advice (also because I know what people here will say and I will sort this out for myself). I am just venting and thought some people in this awesome community cared about my thoughts :-)

Submitted June 06, 2023 at 12:00AM by p3rseusxy (From Reddit https://ift.tt/2UCwGyf)

[coldhardbinch]

Woke up with some things on my mind yesterday and decided to write something Real for once 🙃

Church has always been my family business.

One of my earliest memories is giving my mother attitude while she pulled into the church parking lot. I’d spent the morning trying to convince her that I was too sick to go to church (I was not remotely ill) and she looked at me in the rear view and said, “You’re getting to that age where you don’t want to go to church.”

I don’t remember the whole lecture (I was probably about 3) but the gist of it was that this was not a feeling I was allowed to have. As the pastor’s kids, we were never supposed to be anything but thrilled to be at church. Nevermind that we were there more often than anyone, or that from the second we pulled into the parking lot, we were being scrutinized by the bitties and the deacons, so maybe we didn’t really feel all that welcome here. Them’s the brakes, kid. You’ll go to church, you’ll stay late, and you’ll enjoy it.

When I was a teenager trying to flake out on praise team practice, my father said to me, “The Bible says if you don’t use the gifts God gave you, He’ll take them away.” I went to practice and learned to sing simple songs about a simple faith. I could sing of Your love forever. My brother-in-law led us on his acoustic guitar every Sunday morning. My brother ran sound. My sister corralled her five children into church clothes, then the van. When she was late, I had a perfect view of the whisperers, the gossips, the Did You Notice crowd.

When I moved away from home, I comforted my parents by telling them there was a good Baptist church in my new neighborhood. I never went. When they asked, I lied. Sometimes, when I can get a Sunday off. Eventually, they stopped asking. I rarely called, anyway. I sang in the car, with my friends, in dive bars for karaoke and began to believe that maybe this was somehow my religion. 

My sister and I came out to each other via text on the same night. She made a joke about leaving her husband and dating girls. The kind of joke I recognized. I texted back: “So, girls, huh?” and soon we were laughing. “Girls are so pretty!” “Who isn’t obsessed with boobs?” 

She left her husband that year. My parents’ adjustment period took some time, some difficult conversations, some days where I was too mad at my mother to speak to her at all. On Thanksgiving, they held a big breakfast that included my ex-brother-in-law’s new wife, my sister’s new girlfriend, and her three kids. I video called in for moral support. My father made sure I was “there” before starting a little sermon about our family’s new normal. Change is hard but can be good, or something. I was out of practice, hadn’t heard him preach in years, tuned out a bit out of habit. Near the end, he turned to whoever was holding the phone showing my face, and credited me with helping to make these changes happen. I just kind of smiled, not sure how to respond. A response I've given him many times. Then everyone went back to their bacon.

That Christmas, I came home and came out of my own closet, to much less fanfare. Everyone kind of Knew, You Know.

I think about that Thanksgiving more and more as my siblings’ children grow up, become their own people. Be allowed to be their own person at all, rather than the Optics Approved Pastor’s Kid. They wear their hair and makeup in ways my parents would never have allowed us to, in defiance of gender norms and sometimes good sense. Openly read books, watch movies, listen to music that I remember having to smuggle past my parents. They go out to plays that have nothing to do with Christmas, Easter, or any part of the Bible. They go on out-of-state school trips, far from their parents’ watchful eyes, without a single religious official around to remind them that Jesus Died For Them.

I think of those little babies, now full-fledged People, running unsupervised through Disneyland. Out with their friends with no fear of being Caught Dressed Like This. Standing up to their dick of a youth pastor. Going away for college. Prioritizing themselves over the 24-hour family business that is being the pastor’s family. And my heart swells to bursting. There is so much in this world that I can’t shield them from, that I simply cannot change. But seeing them spared a few of the specific lonlinesses of my youth heals some part of me I’d forgotten was even broken.

And I think about that Thanksgiving, and all the lonely ones I spent away from family, knowing I would have felt lonlier with them. I think I may always be a bit of a stranger to my family. I think that’s how I prefer it. But I know that I made my family a little less lonely for the next generation. When I see my father’s eyes in my face and so many others, it no longer feels like the gaze of a vengeful god.

[meatmechapilot]

Rivaereri Winter Wonderland 2022 Prompt: Holiday Photoshoot/Lingerie

Have a Sexy Holiday

Summary: Influencer Eren's holiday was ruined when his boyfriend dumped him via text, his photographer, Levi comforts him. (Omegaverse)

"Yes, that's right, make love to the camera," Levi Ackerman, alpha, professional photographer directed his current model.  Said model has perfect hair, stunning green eyes, and beautiful, long tanned legs that goes on for days.  Levi keeps on getting distracted, imagining those legs wrapped around his waist while he stuffs the pretty omega full of cock.  

Unfortunately, that delicious scenario will have to remain a fantasy, since the model, Eren Jeager, is currently unavailable.  In fact, the current photoshoot is to be a Christmas present for his boyfriend.  Eren brought a number of sexy lingerie to Levi's studio in his apartment, and they spent the best of an afternoon trying each one on, striving to find the best, sexiest pose.  Levi is definitely keeping all the negatives for his personal collection.

Levi met Eren when the omega moved into the apartment next to his.  Levi liked not having a neighbor, so he wasn't too pleased at first, but that thought was wiped away immediately once he met his stunning new neighbor.  Unfortunately, he met Eren's boyfriend as well.  Levi and the other alpha immediately didn't get along; and he's distaste for the other alpha were well justified when he sees him bumming money from Eren all the time.

Eren on the other hand is amazing.  He's only 22 but is one of the hottest social media influencers in the country.  He's accounts on all of the major websites and apps (plus Onlyfans) has millions of followers and he's the top 1% earners on most of those.  Best of all, Eren has hired Levi to do all his photoshoots.  Levi never accepted a job so fast, he's figured that since he has a great excuse to be around Eren for a great deal of time, maybe he can convince Eren to dump his boyfriend and be with him instead.

The photography session went great, Eren had ten lingerie changes and made all sorts of erotic poses.  Levi would never run out of wank material again.  After selecting the best photos to print, the omega was ready to call it a day.  He bid goodbye to the alpha and started gathering up his things.

Levi put away his equipment for the day, trying not to be too disappointed.  Looks like it's just him and his hand tonight.  

"That asshole!" Eren suddenly exclaimed.  

"What's wrong?" Levi immediately turned to Eren.  The omega was holding his phone with displeased look on his face.  When he looked up, he's fuming.

"My asshole boyfriend just broke up with me with a text message," he said, "we've been having problems the past few months," Eren continued to talk while Levi's still process this news.  "He's always on about how I'm too busy nowadays, and barely have any time for him.  That I'm spending too much time with you.  He even accused me of cheating on him."

Levi would definitely not mind making a cuck out of Eren's now ex-boyfriend, but he held his tongue, letting Eren unload all his feelings.  "I mean, hello, you're my photographer, it takes a lot of work to look good and maintain my socials, of course I'm spending a lot of time with you.  My engagement rate has increased a lot thanks to your photos, and I'm making more money, I thought he would be happy about it."  Levi isn't the type to be jealous if his omega makes more money than him, but he's known a few of those types.  Immature losers are what he thinks of them.

"We had a huge fight last week, and these photos are my way of apologizing, because I know he loves it when I'm barely wearing anything," Eren now sounds like he's trying not to cry.  

"Sounds like that asshole doesn't know a good thing if it punched him in the face, you're probably better off without him."  Levi said while patting Eren's back in a comforting way, he's wondering maybe if offering a hug would be too inappropriate.  

Eren suddenly looked up with a glint in his eyes, he seized Levi's collar and kissed him.  Levi was caught by surprise but quickly recovered, returning the kiss with much fervor.  "Fuck me, make me forget," Eren said, after they finally broke apart from their kiss.

For Levi, it's as if Christmas and his birthday came early at the same time.  What was he thinking, his birthday IS on Christmas, but with the omega in his arms, asking for the very thing he's dreamed of for months, he sure felt that he's getting his present early.  Still Levi asked, "are you sure about this?"  He doesn't want Eren to do something he might regret later.

Eren replied by trying to undress the both of them at the same time, "just make me forget about that asshole."  

"Don't worry, by the time I'm done with you, you won't even remember your own name."  Levi growled.  His voice full of promise.

Levi decided to wing it from here and steered them toward the bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes on the way.  When they arrived at their destination, Eren's practically naked already and Levi tossed him on the bed.  He hastily removed the rest of his clothes and crawled over the omega.  Their lips met again, and Levi's hands wandered over the omega's body, finally free to touch and squeeze as he pleased.

The alpha's hand wandered toward the omega's pussy to find Eren's hand already there, fingering himself, working himself open in preparation for the alpha's cock.  Levi's plunged his fingers inside as well, pleased by the copious slick already coming from the omega.  He would like to taste the slick too, but he's been sporting an erection for the better part of an hour now and is as eager to get to the fucking as Eren is.

Eren finally had enough teasing and withdrew both their hands, he looked Levi in the eye and spread his legs wide.  The alpha positioned himself and sank right into the omega's cunt.  The culmination of all his fantasies for the past months almost had him coming right there, but he held it in and started moving instead.  Each thrust had Eren gasping and moaning, his legs locking onto Levi's waist.  The pleasure of fucking into the omega's tight cunt was blinding, and with the lewd way Eren was begging and moaning his name, Eren incredibly appreciative of his efforts.

"~Ah, I'm gonna~" Eren tried to warn, but his orgasm interrupted him, causing him to squirt all over the sheets.  Levi fucked him through his orgasm, until he too came, his knot locking them together and he collapsed on top of the omega.  A long moment later, they both looked up and caught each other's eye.

"So, did it work?" Levi teased.

"I already forgot his name," Eren returned, anger and hurt gone from his voice.  "Do you want to do this regularly?"

"Are you asking me to be your boyfriend?" Eren nodded.  It's possible that he's just a rebound, but Levi's not letting this change go.

"Then we should consummate our new relationship status again."  Levi said and they proceed to do round two (and three).

Eren ended up making a higher subscription tier to release the sexy lingerie photos.  When asked about his ex-boyfriend, Eren had this to say: "[Redacted], I don't know him, from now on, Levi is my boyfriend."

[something-tofightfor]

Life is Good - Three

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Female Reader

Word Count: 10,730

Rating: NSFW. 

Summary: Vacation continues, and so does your growing attraction to Frankie. When he invites you out for an actual dinner date, what does the night tell you about your feelings? 

When the other guys bring home women from their own night out and one of them is focused on Frankie, you’re forced to confront something that you didn’t expect to experience... and so is he. 

Author’s note:

I’m having a ton of fun with this story. I feel like all of you are, too. Thank you for reading the first couple parts! 

I apologize for this being up 2 days late!

Some housekeeping:

The rooms Reader and Frankie are in are linked on the main Masterlist page; (Frankie’s is ‘Bedroom 2′ and pictures begin at 33/48, yours is  ‘Bedroom 1′ and the pictures start at picture 32/46.)

Part 1 / Part 2 

Wednesday Afternoon

The next two days passed relatively uneventfully - beach or pool during the day with your respective groups, the ten of you hanging out on Tuesday night at the guys’ house and swimming until late and then doing separate activities for the first half of the day Wednesday. You kept in contact with Frankie via text through, and even caught him staring at you from one of their balconies as you floated around in the pool on Wednesday morning, the man lifting his hand in a wave before disappearing back inside. 

Though Jordan and Pope spent Tuesday night together as well, you and Frankie hadn’t done the same - kissing each other goodbye as you headed home with Taylor, Jess and Paige, the four of you plopping down onto the living room couches and chairs and watching a movie before bed, all four of you laughing and joking throughout the entire thing. 

You wanted to see more of Frankie, but part of you didn’t think it was a good idea. For Jordan, the week with Pope would be a welcome break, and when she got back to Colorado, she’d be able to immediately throw herself back into work with very little downtime to miss the man. But for you, it was different. You worked full time, yes, but you weren’t always as busy as your friend - and the more accustomed you became to being around someone that you liked, the harder it would be to be alone afterward. 

You had no illusions about what the thing between you and Frankie Morales was - it was a beach fling, plain and simple, a week of fun in the sun and sand, possibly a new friend that you’d keep in contact with after you both traveled back home…but there wasn’t a chance for anything more - there didn’t need to be. And you were fine with that - because it kept things easy between you. 

Neither of you brought up the end of the vacation when you were together, even though you started to think about it more seriously on Wednesday afternoon as you got out of the shower, toweling off. You had to be out of the house by 11 am on Saturday, which meant that most of Friday night and all of Saturday morning before then would be spent packing and cleaning the house. That means we have two nights left. You frowned as you got dressed - choosing a comfortable maxi dress with a halter neck that would keep you cool no matter what you decided to do with the night - and the expression stayed present as you slathered moisturizer on your skin to combat the days of sun you’d gotten so far. 

But it disappeared when you heard your phone go off, the screen lighting up with a text message. Wanna go to the boardwalk tonight? That had been the plan for your friends - Paige and Jess had brought it up hours earlier and you and Jordan had agreed, though Taylor wasn’t interested and said she was going to stick around the house and relax. Not with everyone else, I mean. Just us. 

That surprised you. A date? He wants to… Let me ask my friends. A couple of us planned on going already, so… He replied back, telling you not to break plans with them. I’d rather go with you. Setting the phone down on your bed, you headed into the living room, your friends gathered around the kitchen island. “We still going to the -”

“Nope.” Paige turned to you. “There’s a live band at some place by the Bay, some country band? We’re going to -”

“Count me out.” You laughed. “I agreed to the boardwalk, not to yee-haw.” Jordan was grinning at you, her eyes bright. “Plus, I just got a text and Frankie asked if I -”

“Spending another night with him?” She winked at you. “I know for a fact that the guys are all doing something else tonight, because Santiago -” 

“Oh, so he’s Santiago now?” Sliding into a seat, you turned your head toward her. “And yes. He asked me to go to the boardwalk with him, so I figured they were all doing something else, too.” Reaching for the bowl of pretzels on the island, you chewed on a few. “What time are you leaving?” 

“Soon. And Taylor’s coming too, so you won’t have to worry about making noise.” Jordan winked. “Two empty houses to pick from again.” Very funny. Rolling your eyes, you stood up and told them all to have a good time before disappearing back into the bedroom, picking up the phone and quickly typing a message back to Frankie. Boardwalk is a go. What time should I come over? 

The dots showed up on the screen immediately, Frankie typing out a reply. Gotta shower. Give me 40 minutes? Telling him that that was perfect, you took your phone back into the bathroom and put on a playlist, staring into the mirror. A date. A date with Frankie. 

— 

You were strolling down Atlantic Avenue hand in hand with him two and a half hours later, fingers laced together. The two of you walked past all of the touristy shops, weaving in and out of the people that crowded the sidewalk, and you couldn’t remember a time in recent history that you’d been happier. Frankie seemed the same, a smile lifting the corners of his lips whenever you looked over at him, and that made you happy. He’d bought a t-shirt for his son, asking if you minded sticking the plastic bag into your purse for the rest of the night so that you didn’t need to walk back to the car, and you’d happily agreed. But since, neither of you had made a purchase, though you stepped into a few other stores, thumbing through cheesy t shirts and overpriced beach gear. 

You had a dinner reservation for later, and so you were trying to kill time - but you didn’t mind at all, because every minute you spent with him was more time that you got to know the man, watching as he moved among the people in the crowd, cheeks slightly sunburned. Those were the types of vacation memories that you carried with you from childhood, and as you walked and browsed, you told him that. 

Frankie added in his own stories - they’d stayed in Florida a lot on family vacations, but always went to a different beach, his parents encouraging him to explore and get be hands on with everything. “I think that’s why I wanted to be a pilot. It seemed like there’d always be something keeping my hands busy and my attention focused.” He peered at you from over a rack of clothes. “Probably could have picked a less dangerous way to get in the air, but then I wouldn’t have gotten to know my idiot friends, so…” He shrugged. “Guess it was worth it.” 

“Definitely.” You held up a shirt to him - bright yellow with palm trees all over it - and tried not to laugh. “How about this one? I think Pope would -”

“He’d find some way to make it look good.” Frankie rolled his eyes. “Always does.” Maybe. “He told me that your friend already set a bunch of ground rules with him.” Confused, you hung the shirt back on the rack, moving to stand next to the man. “Yeah, he was tellin’ me that she made it real clear that she wasn’t looking for anything long term, and that when she gets back to Colorado she’s got a job that takes up all her time so she doesn’t date much.” 

“I… that’s the truth, but I’m surprised that she…” Trailing off, the two of you headed back out onto the street, turning in the direction that you’d come from as Frankie pulled his sunglasses from the top of his head and back into place. “Was Pope upset? Did it -”

“No, actually.” Frankie ran a hand through his hair, laughing. “He said it was kind of a relief, because he didn’t want to lead her on.” He squeezed your hand. “Don’t get me wrong, he likes her, but …”

“Two thousand miles is two thousand miles.” Taking a deep breath, you held it for a few seconds. “And at least they went into it knowing exactly what they both wanted from this week.” It was his turn to laugh, Frankie pulling his hand from yours and putting his arm around your shoulders, urging you closer. 

“Unlike us, you mean.” He looked down at you, peering over the top edges of his sunglasses. “You can say it.”

“Yeah, unlike us.” Sighing, you pressed your lips together, looking straight ahead again. “We probably should have figured it all out before we just … hopped into your bed.” He snorted, squeezing your shoulder. “Then again, maybe we -” Frankie stopped walking, the two of you in front of one of the taller hotels that lined the actual boardwalk. 

“What rules would you have set?” He was trying not to smile, Frankie’s lips quirked up on one side. “No spending the night? No going out anywhere together? No personal -”

“I really don’t know, Frankie.” You closed your eyes, head shaking back and forth. “It just seems like a good idea to know where you stand with someone you just met.”

“To be fair,” he replied as he led you into the lobby and toward the elevators, his hand on your lower back. “That first night could have gone really bad for either of us.” He pressed the button. “Or both of us.” 

You stepped into the elevator together, Frankie pushing another button as the doors closed. “It could have, but it didn’t. And neither did the next morning.” We’re going to have this damn conversation at dinner, aren’t we. “Maybe it’s better that we didn’t though.” You exited into the lobby of the restaurant, which was relatively upscale, your eyes immediately going back to Frankie. “What is -” “Wanted to take you out to a nice dinner.” He shrugged, turning to face you. “No different than I’d do with someone I liked that I met under different circumstances.” Speechless, you let him lead you to the hostess stand, the man giving his name as a young woman grinned and led you to your table - right against the open windows that overlooked the ocean. You were only 6 or 7 stories up, but the view was still incredible, and for a few minutes, you stared out at the water, thinking. So this is a real date. An expensive date. “You want a drink?” His voice cut into your thoughts, the man saying your name, and without even thinking about it you ordered - something simple that you knew they’d be able to make, along with an ice water. You still didn’t look at Frankie, and when the waiter had stepped away, he repeated your name. “You alright?” 

“I wasn’t expecting this.” You gestured around you at the restaurant - as intimate a setting as you’d ever been in on a date. “I figured we’d eat at one of the beach-level places, not somewhere like this, like…” 

“I wanted you to understand that I don’t just see you as -” He paused as your drinks came, the waiter setting them down and then telling you he’d give you a few minutes before walking away. “As a hookup.” He frowned. “Just because we’re only going to be here for a week doesn’t mean that I’m going to treat you like that’s the case.” He took a drink of his beer, eyes moving to the window and then back to you. 

“So you do want to keep in touch after we leave?” You sipped your drink, too. “You’re not going to just … get on a plane to Florida and lose my number?”

“Of course not.” He chewed on his lower lip, squinting at you. “Was that what you were planning on doing when you leave?” 

“No.” You shrugged. “Even if the… physical part only lasts for this trip, I think we’d be good friends, Frankie. And I want to be.” He smiled then, the expression a knowing one, but instead of answering, he pointed at the menu. Right. We should figure out what to order. 

As the two of you began to look over the options, you tried to squash down the part of you - a large part - that was thrilled with the newest revelations about whatever was happening between you and Frankie. Risking a quick glance up at him, you saw that the man was also staring at you over the top of his menu, the look in his eyes one of amusement. Oh. Hi. Ducking your head to hide your smile, your heartbeat quickened. I think he’s happy about it, too. 

— 

Dinner was delicious, and even though you and Frankie hadn’t brought up the “what happens next” conversation again while in the restaurant, that didn’t mean that it didn’t hang heavy over your head. He told you more about himself - about how he’d met the other guys while enlisted, about how they’d gone through periods where they lost touch and then came back together, especially Pope, who’d spent years after they officially retired working out of the country. He explained that they’d all taken on freelance work to support themselves outside of their chosen careers, and after one particularly difficult mission together, had made the decision to be done for good. 

And he’d had questions for you, too - not more of the “I want to know you but not too much about you” questions you’d expected, but real ones, the man leaning over and asking you personal things that you were more than willing to divulge. It felt like a real date - like the two of you were getting to know each other, and you were not looking forward to the end of the date. 

When the check came, Frankie paid quickly, leaving money on top of the slip of paper and standing, gesturing for you to do the same. He took your hand again as you left the restaurant, and when the elevator doors closed behind you, you spun to face him, lips parted. “Frankie?” Humming in reply, he tilted his chin downward. “Thank you for dinner.”

“You’re welcome, but -” You rose onto your toes to kiss him, lips finding his with no effort, the hand that wasn’t holding yours sliding against your hip and then your lower back. He pulled you closer and when the doors dinged, telling you that they were opening again, you moved to separate from him - but Frankie chased you, leaning in and keeping you from pulling out of his hold right away. 

It took until someone cleared their throat behind you for him to straighten up, the man glaring over your shoulder at whoever had the audacity to make a noise and interrupt you. Fighting back a giggle, you buried your face against his chest, Frankie still holding you tight. “Be nice, Francisco.” Mumbling the words against him, he only let you go when the doors opened again, giving you a chance to exit out onto the main floor. Calling out over your shoulder at the person that had stepped into the elevator with you, you waved with one hand. “Have a nice night!”

When you and Frankie were outside again, standing on the boardwalk side of the building, it was him that turned toward you, pulling his hand free and then using both of them to draw you closer. “We can keep walking or we can go back to Sandbridge.” Dragging his tongue over his lower lip, he took a deep breath, shoulders rising and then falling as he left it out. “It’s up to you.” 

“It’s what, 25 minutes back to the house?” He nodded. “If we go back, can we still -”

“Yes.” He was stroking your hips with both hands, his features highlighted by the overhead lamps, and the look in his eyes clear. “It’s still real early, and we’re on vacation.” That made you laugh again, the sound escaping your lips as you reached out to hug him. He was solid in your arms, the ocean breeze stronger on the boardwalk than it was near your house as it blew over both of you. I like this too fucking much. “If we’re gonna go, we should go.” 

He spoke quietly, the words hesitant. Why now? “Then let’s go.” Squeezing his shoulder, you stepped away, tilting your head to one side. “You want me to drive?”

“No.” That broke the tension, Frankie’s easy smile coming back. “The rental’s in my name. If something happens, I’m covered. And,” he continued, starting to walk down the open space, you beside him. “... and I’m always the driver, so I’m used to it.” 

“That’s fair. I didn’t even think about the rental.” The two of you walked slowly, and for the first time, you noticed a slight limp in his step, though it didn’t seem to slow him down. You’d heard his knee pop when he was kneeling in the bed, and you started wondering about injuries he’d sustained in the service, or if it was just the man’s body aging. That isn’t something to ask, though. Both of you stayed silent as you turned away from the ocean and toward Atlantic Avenue again, Frankie leading you back to the parking lot where you’d left the car. 

It was nearly empty, so you had no trouble finding your vehicle, but before you could pull on the door handle to open it, Frankie stopped you, leaning in to put his hand on the window. “If I’m coming on too strong, tell me.” Wait, what? “I fucking like you. I like spending time with you and I’m really goddamn happy that you’re staying next to us and it wasn’t some boring group of -”

“Frankie.” You placed a hand on his chest, palm flat. His heart is fucking pounding. “You’re not coming on too strong. This has been…” Blowing out a breath you rolled your eyes skyward before bringing them back down to his face. “Unexpected, but still… really fun.” This is why he shut down a little at dinner. He was afraid to say this. “And I like you too, just in case the way I’ve been with you wasn’t clear enough.” He groaned, whispering the words thank fuck under his breath and then Frankie swooped in and kissed you hard. 

The metal of the door dug into your back, his body pressing into you from the front, and until you needed to breathe, you stayed that way. Frankie’s mouth sealed over yours, his hips rocking gently into your body and your hands gripping the loose material of his shirt. He kissed you like he didn’t want to stop, and if you were being honest, you didn’t want him to. 

Yes, you connected on a physical level. The attraction between the two of you was definitely there, but it was more than that, too. You were comfortable around him, willing to open up and be yourself, and you sensed the same from him, which surprised you to some degree since he was so different from the others in his group. But I’m the only one he’s really opened up to, because when we were with the bigger group, he was quieter. 

He finally pulled away from you, his eyes wide. “I’ve wanted to kiss you like that all night, but … I didn’t want to make you feel like … fuck. We shouldn’t be doing this. I shoulda kept my mouth shut so we could have left it as hooking up, and -”

“Well we didn’t.” Wrinkling your nose, you reached out to tuck one of his curls behind his ear. “So now we’ve gotta deal with the fact that this isn’t just two people fucking their way through a vacation and then going back to their separate lives.” Pinching his earlobe between your fingers, you winked at him. “Luckily for us we’ve still got two days to figure it out.” 

You should have seen it coming, but Frankie moved to kiss you again, the man going slow that time, one hand settled against the back of your head as he urged you toward him and not into the car. He took your upper lip between his, sucking on it gently before he angled his head and did the same to the corner of your mouth and then your chin, lingering. “Let’s go back hom…. To the houses. We haven’t used either hot tub yet.” No, we haven’t. 

When you finally got into the car and you’d put the address of the house into the GPS, Frankie backed out of the spot and turned toward the street. But before you even left the parking lot, he’d reached over, settling  his hand on your knee - where it stayed for the entire drive back. 

— 

The houses were both still empty when you parked in his driveway, and a quick check of Instagram told you that your friends were enjoying their time at the bar. But instead of leading you into his bedroom, Frankie asked if you actually wanted to use the hot tub, since it would be quiet for at least a little longer. Telling him yes, you excused yourself to your house to change into your bathing suit while he did the same. 

You also used the time apart to clear your head, since the previous few hours had been a lot. Not quite overwhelming but close, Frankie’s intensity and willingness to admit that he was actually into you a welcome development. But we’re still going to be apart in a couple days, so it doesn’t matter as much as I’d like it to. 

In addition to the coverup that you put on over your suit, you also threw a phone cord, your toothbrush and a pair of pajamas into a bag before you headed back over to Frankie’s, bypassing the main door and walking straight into the back yard. Just in case.

He was nowhere to be found, though the hot tub was turned on, the lights beneath the surface of the water bright even as the top bubbled, steam curling up into the night air. Setting your bag down on one of the outdoor tables, you slipped your shoes off and sat on the edge of the pool, dangling your feet in the water as you waited for him to come back out. It was peaceful, even though you could hear music and laughter from one of the nearby houses, and it didn’t take you long to get lost in your thoughts, head tilted back and your eyes on the starlit sky. 

“I’ve got a pool at my place in Florida.” Frankie interrupted you, lowering himself onto the pool deck to your left and dipping his own feet into the water. “No hot tub, but that might be next.”

“Why would you need a hot tub in Florida, can’t you keep your pool open all year?” Frowning, you turned to look at him, biting back surprise at the fact that he’d walked out of the house shirtless, the only clothing he wore a different pair of trunks sitting low on his waist. “It doesn’t get cold there, right?” He laughed - but like you when his knee had popped, the man wasn’t laughing at you. 

“I do keep it open all year, it’s actually cheaper to do that than pay to open and close them every season. But that doesn’t mean I’d swim year round, because it does get cold in Florida, despite what you might -”

“But do you mean cold-cold, or Florida cold? Because there’s a difference.” He laughed again, nudging you with one elbow. “I know a ton of people in Colorado have hot tubs that they use year round because it makes sense… getting to do something warm outside when it’s fucking snowing. But I can’t believe that it -”

“It costs a lot to keep a pool heated year round. And we don’t get snow, but there are still months where it gets really cold at night. You might not think so, because you live when the air hurts to breathe, but…” It was your turn to laugh, and without thought  you tilted your head to one side, leaning it against his shoulder. “60 degree water is gonna feel the same no matter where you are.” True. “But like I was saying, I have a pool at my place, and I definitely don’t use it enough.” 

“So I’m assuming you have a house, then.” He nodded, confirming. “I live in a condo, and our complex has a pool, too, one indoor, one outdoor. They’re always filled with kids, so I don’t use them much.”

“Elijah’s the only kid that’s been in my pool.” He paused. “That’s actually not true. Tom’s got a daughter, but she’s a teenager, so maybe that doesn’t count.” He went quiet again and you sat up straight, turning your head toward him. “What?” 

“We should get in.” You pointed at the hot tub. “Might give you a kick in the ass to get one for yourself.” You used both hands to push yourself off the ground and then reached for Frankie, waiting until the man took your hands to say anything else. “And if we get in now, we’ll have some time to ourselves before anyone else gets back.” You helped to pull him to his feet, but as soon as he was standing, Frankie’s hands moved to your waist, fingers curling over the bottom edge of the long shirt you wore before he lifted it and pulled it over your head, tossing it onto one of the chairs behind you. 

“That’s better.” You thought he was going to kiss you, but instead Frankie moved for the hot tub, climbing the steps before sliding over to the opposite side. You followed him, sinking into the bubbling water up to your shoulders and closing your eyes at the way the water felt on your skin. I should have been using ours all week. “I apologize for saying what I did earlier. I didn’t even think about what you might -”

“Frankie.” You sighed, opening your eyes and locking them with his. “Don’t apologize. You said what you meant, and I appreciate it, because now I know where you stand.” Sitting up a little straighter, you reached up, scratching at your cheek. “But for the record, you haven’t treated me like I’m just a hookup this week at all. I had a really good time tonight, and I appreciate you taking me out, but you didn’t need to.” 

“I know. I guess in my mind having an excuse just made it … easier to justify.” Justify? “Everyone -” He gestured to the house, and you assumed that he meant all of his friends. “Everyone tells me that I can be kind of emotional. And I know they’re right, but it usually isn’t me gettin’ emotional about people.” He took a breath. “When I sat there and thought about what you might think of this week, I didn’t want you to think that I’ve been using you, because that wasn’t what I was trying to do at all.” He swiped a wet hand over his hair, slicking it back from his forehead. “Pope and Jordan went into their shit knowing what they were doing. I guarantee that either Benny or Will bring someone home tonight, and they’re outta here tomorrow and never brought up again. But you an’ me, we…”

“We’ve hung out a lot on this trip.” He nodded, his eyes widening as you moved to the side of the hot tub closer to him, reaching out to take his hand beneath the water. “Probably more than we should have, I’ll agree with you there.” He cracked a smile at that, but it was brief. “You know what’s unfair?” You let go of his hand, repositioning yourself so that you could extend your legs, draping them over his from your position on the seat. He immediately moved his hands to your calves, squeezing both of them. “I’ve had more fun with you over these last few days than I have on all of the dates I’ve gone on in the last year combined.” Be completely honest with him. “And that’s not even including the sex, because that’s been… fuck, Frankie, anyone that’s telling you you’re just alright is a goddamn liar.”

“Keep talking like that and I’m gonna take you home with me in my suitcase.” He was smiling - a genuine one. “Thank you, though. And that’s fucking weird, me thanking you for -”

“It’s not.” Blinking slowly, you took a long breath. “And about your friends? I’m glad that you’re not like them, and that this isn’t like that. Because I meant it when I said that I think we can be good friends.” You rolled your eyes. “And I’d rather be able to call you that, Frankie, than keep you in my phone as someone that I’d just get in touch with if we were ever in the same state and wanted to jump back into bed.” He was frowning, the expression on his face endearing even though you could tell he was trying to figure out where you were going. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but …”

“You don’t think it’d be weird? Just being friends after this week?” No. “Because I’ll be honest, if I ever find myself in Colorado, you’d be the first person I called, and not just for -”

“The first?” Trying not to give anything away you narrowed your eyes. “Does that imply that you have a list of women from -” “Oh, fuck off.” You both laughed then, the sound louder than the bubbling of the water, and before you could react, Frankie’d pushed your legs off of him and was leaning forward, reaching for you through the water to pull you onto the seat next to him. “It’s weird as hell for me to think that a couple days ago, we didn’t know each other, and now …” “Now we’re sitting here like this.” Leaning your head on his shoulder again, you agreed. “I know.” But what neither of you were saying was that in only a few more days time, you’d be on opposite sides of the country with no real opportunities to see each other again. And that sucks. “Would it be easier if we didn’t see each other for the rest of the week?” His hand was on your thigh, grip loose. “Say goodbye tonight or tomorrow morning, and then -” “Probably.” He sighed, saying your name. “But I’m not gonna suggest that.” Good. “Unless you want to.” 

“Nope.” You reached over, squeezing his leg. “I think we’re past that.” We’re definitely past that. You didn’t want to keep the conversation going - in fact, you wanted to think about anything but the impending separation, and so you changed the subject, pulling your hand away from him and adjusting your bathing suit. “So what makes you think someone’s going to bring a date home tonight?” 

“Because they both told me they were looking.” He coughed. “And they wanted to get Tom laid, too, just because it’s been…”

“How does he feel about that?” Though you wouldn’t have even considered it yourself, you figured that there were plenty of women that would find the man attractive - especially ones that were looking for nothing more than a single night while on a trip to the beach. “Tom’s still got a wedding ring tan line, so -” “He’s still hung up on his ex, but he knows it’s over. Like I said, he can be kind of an asshole, but he’s saved all our asses a bunch of times, too. He’s just … intense.” That wasn’t the word that you would have used to describe the older man, but you just shrugged, figuring that Frankie knew his friends better than you did. “I donno. We’ll see what happens.” The conversation trailed off, both of you going silent as you leaned back, staring up at the sky. 

You were comfortable with Frankie in a way that you couldn’t have ever anticipated, and it seemed that even though both of you were unwilling to actually say it out loud, you’d found more than you bargained for in Virginia. But in a good way. “I definitely see the appeal of a hot tub and a pool, Frankie.” Sitting straight up, you turned your head toward the larger body of water. “I don’t know if my opinion is worth anything, but whenever you’ve got the money, I think you should seriously consider -”

“Oh, I’ve got the money.” He was grinning, though the look in his eyes was serious. “That’s not the problem. I’m just trying to do things slow, you know? Bought the house beginning of last year, did a bunch of renovations inside already… and now I can focus on the outside.” He’s a pilot, I didn’t realize they made that much. But that was none of your business, and so you stayed quiet, waiting to see what else he’d say.  “Hot tub, maybe enclosing the pool, so that if you come visit when it’s cold, we can still swim.” Visit? Did he just … 

“Great plan. When’s it gonna be done?” You stood, turning to face him. “I’ll book a flight.” His brows shot up, and even though you were half joking, he didn’t reply, staring at you with wide eyes and his mouth partially hanging open. Oh no. “I’m going to go jump in the pool. I’m getting warm.”

You didn’t give him a chance to speak. Instead, you climbed out of the hot tub and made your way to the pool before getting in, moving quickly down the steps and sucking in a breath at the temperature difference between the pool water and the hot tub. I just invited myself to his house, and it’s either going to… But your thought was cut off when you felt Frankie’s arms around you from behind, the man’s body pressed against yours as he lowered his mouth to your shoulder. You stood in the shallow end like that for at least a minute, both of you frozen in place. I shouldn’t have said that. “I’d like that.” When he spoke, it was directly into your ear, his breath warm and the man’s beard dragging over the skin below. “You visiting, I mean.” 

“Really?” Turning slowly without pulling out of his arms, you looked up at him. “I… yeah. We can set something up, if you really want, I just …” Biting your lip, you trailed off. You didn’t want to get your hopes up. It was very possible that after you said your goodbyes at the beach, you and Frankie would never see each other again, despite what was being said that night. Because we’ll get home and realize that this was just … vacation. Just fun, but not … not something to continue. “We’re really fucking bad at this, Frankie.” 

It took a second but then he laughed, eyes closing and his head tilting back. “We are.” He hugged you tighter, though, and then lowered his head, still chuckling. “So fucking bad.” 

— 

The lights in your house went on before the ones in Frankie’s, and because you were out of the pool and back in the warm, roiling water, you could see people moving around in the upstairs levels. “Do you need to get back over there?” 

He was sitting behind you, his large hands on your shoulders as he rubbed at the muscles, the hot water helping to relax your entire body. “No. They knew who I was with tonight.” Leaning forward, you rested your hands on his knees, his palms sliding down and over your back. “And if they come outside, they’ll see that I’m …” Humming at the pressure he applied to your skin, you closed your eyes. “I’m fine.” 

“They’re outside now. And there’s a guy with them.” He kissed the back of your neck, clearing his throat. That got your attention, and as you turned to look at your house, you saw that he was right - a dark haired man was making his way from the upper deck down the stairs, right behind Taylor. Good for her. “You wanna get out? I forgot to bring towels, so I need to go and grab some, but…”

“Yeah.” You moved away from him, reluctantly pulling your body away from his hands. “We should. I’m pretty sure there’s a recommended time limit for being in a hot tub, and I think we’ve exceeded it.” He laughed as he stood, the water running in streams down his chest, and you didn’t even try to keep your eyes off of him. “I’ll wait here.” 

Eyes still on him as he climbed out of the tub and headed for the lower level of the house, you didn’t look away until he disappeared, the light flipping on as he stepped through the doorway. When he was gone, you leaned your head back and closed your eyes, sinking lower into the water. 

Your vacation was more than half over, and that meant that you were only a few days away from the real world - sand, sunshine and no schedule replaced with mountains and deadlines. And no Frankie. The last part was the most distressing, especially since you knew that both of you felt strongly for the other. “Shit.” Swiping your hand over your face, you groaned. 

“You alright?” A new voice called out to you and your eyes snapped open in the same instant that you sat straight up. “Shit, I didn’t mean to -”

“I’m fine, Benny.” Head shaking back and forth, you blew out a breath. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“Yeah, Frankie sent me out here with this?” He held up a towel and you stood, reaching for it. He sent you? “He’s making a bathroom stop.” Benny grinned, keeping his eyes on you as you climbed out of the hot tub and wrapped yourself in the soft material, tucking it closed over your chest. “You guys have fun?” 

“We did. Dinner was good. What about you?” 

“Fuck yes. We actually brought back a couple …” He trailed off as you heard more voices, both of you turning your attention to the cabana room - and the people emerging from it. Oh, yeah, you definitely brought back some people. 

Three women, Frankie, Pope and Ironhead were making their way out onto the pool deck, the conversation flowing between all of them. Frankie had a beer in his hand and a towel wrapped around his waist, though it hung low enough on his hips that you could see a faint tan line. There was a redhead next to him, the woman laughing as she tucked a curled lock of hair behind one ear. 

You knew that there was no reason for it, but you felt a surge of jealousy at the sight - and had to fight back the urge to step toward both of them, interrupting. That’s stupid. That’s…he isn’t… What you were feeling was dangerous, and the sight of him with the other woman confirmed just how fucked you were when it came to the man. It can’t be like this. Straightening your shoulders, you turned away from them and back toward the bag you’d brought, trying to buy yourself some time - and hoping that Frankie wouldn’t look over at you and see the distress on your face. 

But the feeling of a hand  - his hand - on your back brought you out of your thoughts, hand freezing on the strap of the bag. “We got out at the perfect time.” Pressing himself up against you, he waited until you were standing straight up to continue. “None of them have bathing suits,  but they all want to swim.” 

“What?” Turning to look at him, you frowned. “Fr -” He handed you the beer after taking a sip and you took it willingly, lifting the bottle to your lips. 

“Come with me?” Looking past him, you saw that Benny had drifted off with his brother and Pope, the three of them talking to the women, though the redhead was still keeping half an eye on Frankie. “We’ll go rinse off, and then figure out where we’re sleeping tonight.” Slipping the strap of your bag over your shoulder and your sandals on your feet, you turned toward the house, Frankie staying by your side and actually going so far as to drape an arm around your shoulders, urging you closer as the two of you walked. “There’s already a woman in Tom’s room.” 

He spoke again when you were inside, making your way up the steps and toward his room. “There is?” He nodded. “So the other three are for -”

“The other one is for Ironhead. They’re all friends, and didn’t want to split up, so they all came back here. Benny and Pope are playing wingman, but I bet Ben can get that redhead into -”

“She seemed a little preoccupied.” You couldn’t stop the words from coming, or hide the bitter tone in your voice as you let your bag drop to the floor. Oops. “I mean…” He said your name, voice quiet. 

“You jealous?” He closed the bedroom door behind you, crossing his arms over his chest and cocking his head to one side, genuine surprise written on his face. “Fuck.” Frankie moved swiftly, hands finding your arms and pushing you backwards until you made contact with the bed, sprawling backwards on the mattress, the towel coming undone. “There is,” he continued, undoing the towel at his waist and letting it fall to the ground. “Absolutely no reason to be jealous.” Climbing into the bed with you, Frankie planted a knee on either side of your hips, leaning forward and pressing his bare chest against yours. “And I’m gonna prove it to you.”

“Frankie, I -” He cut you off with a kiss, the press of his lips against yours hard, and you couldn’t do anything but react, hands rising from the sheets to grasp at his hair, still damp from the pool and tub. He’s turned on by the fact that I was jealous. It struck you then that your assessment about Frankie and the other guys in his group had been correct - he was used to women fawning over Benny and Will and Pope. He was used to Tom being married. But what he wasn’t used to was the way you’d immediately gravitated toward him, accepting and reciprocating his advances. But I would have been a fool not to.   

“You have…” He continued, moving his lips away from your mouth and toward your jaw, pressing kisses into the skin there, too. “My attention.” Another kiss - that one lingering at the hollow of your throat. “All of it.” Gasping at the admission, you whined out his name, eyes squeezed all the way shut. Mine too. “Where are we staying?” He spoke against your skin, one hand beneath your head, the fingers of the other stroking down the length of your arm. “Because if -” 

“I don’t care.” Turning your head, you kissed the inside of his forearm, feeling the tendons as they flexed beneath the skin. “We’re gonna get this bed all wet if we don’t take our -” The hand beneath your head slid down, his fingers undoing the knot of your bathing suit top. “...suits off.” 

“One step ahead of you.” He was grinning - you could feel it, and when you lifted your hips enough to use your hands to push your bottoms off, his body rose, too, giving you more space. “Hold on.” He climbed off of you, standing next to the bed, and so you sat up again, reaching behind you to undo the bottom strap of your top, tossing it to the side. “It might get a little loud here, especially when they move inside. I know my friends, and -”

“Then we can go sleep at my house.” You shrugged, flattening your hands on the bed and leaning back, chest pushed out toward him and Frankie’s eyes following the movement. “But right now, I want you here.” Frankie’s hand moved to his waist, hooking into the elastic at his hips and you couldn’t take your eyes off of him as he slipped the swim trunks down his legs, not bothering to untie them. And it looks like he wants me, too. “Lock the door. The last thing I want is one of the guys barging in, and -” 

When he turned to do that, you watched as he moved, his back flexing as his shoulders swung. “Can we try somethin’?” He spun around and looked at you again, the fingers of one hand wrapped around himself and leisurely stroking his length. “Before we…” He raised one brow, lips twisting into a crooked smile. “You can say no, but I’ve been thinking about it for a couple days.” What? He bypassed you and circled around to the other side of the bed, getting in and laying down. He got comfortable, the end of a pillow beneath his head, and then returned his hand to the previous position, the strokes resuming. “C’mere.” Frankie licked his lips and you understood in an instant, mouth opening to tell him no, that he didn’t need to. But I want… Your eyes flicked down, focused on his hand. This will work out for both of us. “Is that a no?”

“No, it’s a yes, but with a condition.” Swinging your legs into the bed, you rolled toward him and then rose back up onto your knees, placing both hands on his chest. “You’ve gotta let me return the favor.”

“Yeah?” His breath caught in his throat, Frankie’s dark eyes on your face. “You want to?” You wet your lips, lowering your head so that you could kiss the patch on his cheek, one of your hands reaching and settling over his. 

“I want to.” Nuzzling against his cheek with your nose, you took a deep breath. “But Frankie?” Backing off, you looked down at him. “Want you to come in my mouth this time.” That shocked him, the man’s grip on himself tightening. “If you’re up for it.” 

“Fucking hell.” He groaned, eyes closing. “If that’s what you want, I’m not gonna…” Clearing his throat, he opened his eyes again. “Get up here.” He let go of himself, pulling his hand away and moving both of them to your hips, urging you to change position. You let him lead you, carefully swinging one leg over his body while you braced yourself on his thighs with both hands, heart pounding. Yes, he’d had his mouth on you before, but the position you were in made you feel vulnerable, especially since you knew that Frankie’s eyes were on the most intimate parts of you - and there was nowhere for you to hide. “Beautiful. You don’t even realize…” His head turned, the man’s mouth latching onto the inside of one thigh, and you took that as an indication that he was more than happy to continue. 

Shifting slightly, you lifted one hand, settling it at the base of him and then lowered your head, mouth open and your tongue poking out. He hummed as it touched him, sliding his mouth a few inches up your leg, but it wasn’t until you took his tip between your lips that he actually released your skin, both hands moving to your thighs as he urged your body closer to his mouth. 

Frankie dragged his tongue over you, the tip of his nose also making contact, and that was all it took. You swallowed as much of him as you could, lowering your head without breaking the seal of your lips, and at the sudden movement, he couldn’t keep still. Unlike the previous time, Frankie’s hips jerked upward, forcing more of himself into your mouth, and his speed increased, tongue flicking against you as he ran his hands higher up on your legs, spreading you open further with his fingers and tongue. 

Moaning around him, you gripped one of his thighs tighter and slid your other hand lower, cupping his sac against your palm and rolling one thumb over the top, pressing down enough to put pressure on his skin. He grunted, the sound vibrating through your body, and then Frankie doubled down, quickening the pace of his tongue as it laved over the space between your legs. You couldn’t stop the movement of your hips, body rolling downward, and that seemed to spur him on, his hold tightening - though the man let you move freely, he urged you to stay close. That feels fucking amazing. 

You pulled off of him with a wet pop, lowering your head and taking deep breaths as you continued to stroke him with your hand, but Frankie kept going, and with your mouth empty, you let him hear just how good it felt, eyes squeezed shut as a low wail erupted from your throat. Ok, ok, I… But before you could finish the thought, he used his hands to shift your position slightly so that he could focus on the bundle of nerves above your opening with his tongue before releasing your thigh, the fingers on that hand slipping between your legs and into you, pressing down on every backstroke. Fucking shit. 

Gripping him firmly, you changed the angle and extended your tongue again, licking him from base to tip before swirling your tongue around the plush end of him and sucking it back into your mouth. He widened the spread of his legs, and when you opened your eyes briefly, you saw that his knees were slightly bent, giving him more of an ability to thrust up into your mouth, though it was more controlled than it had been at first. Frankie wasn’t trying to overwhelm you with his size even though he wasn’t succeeding when it came to the way he used his tongue. 

Each lick sent you closer and closer to the edge, but when he pursed his lips and sucked in time with another thrust of his fingers into you, you nearly came undone, the movement of your mouth growing sloppy as it moved up and down, hips rolling against his face as you sought more from him. He didn’t push you away, though, the man’s fingers digging into your thigh, and when he pulled the ones on the other hand out of you, returning them to your other hip and holding you in place over his face, you stopped thinking, focusing on the way his tongue was delving into you, the feel of his mustache on your slick skin, the way his beard was rubbing against your inner thighs. Oh, shit. You hadn’t realized it until then, but you’d tightened both of your legs against the sides of his head - at his insistence - and you knew that you were close. Want to make… “Frankie.” You moaned his name out, pulling off of him again and gasping out a breath. “Please. You first, you…” Moaning again, you took him back into your mouth, hand feverishly working he part of him that you couldn’t get into your mouth as you moved your tongue over the parts of him that you could. 

It was a race to the finish, your other hand moving back between his legs and rolling his sac between your fingers, and in that moment, you knew you had him - the telltale tensing of his muscles, the way his hips lifted off of the bed and pushed him further into your mouth. But he didn’t stop, either, continuing drag you closer and close to the edge, the grip of his hands just on the right side of bruising. It’s going to feel so good. So fucking… With a final twist of your wrist, Frankie came, muscles pulsing as he spilled into your mouth, the taste of him overtaking your senses as your throat worked to swallow what he gave you down. 

You didn’t want to pull off of him, but you were forced to pull back as your mouth filled, swallowing quickly and sucking in a breath through your nose before you went back to what you were doing, lips sealed over the end of him as your hand continued to work him through it. He’d moaned into you as he came, mouth open wide to cover as much of you as possible, and though he’d tightened his grip at first, it loosened once again - one hand snaking around the front of your body so that he could press his thumb against you, dragging the calloused skin of it over you, his mouth moving back an inch or so without lifting. 

That was all you needed, finally pulling your mouth off of him and crying out, the sound of his name leaving your throat in a broken wail. Your thighs clamped down on his head but he kept going - thumb rubbing, lips dragging, tongue seeking more and more of you, anything that he could get to, and when you felt yourself coming, the man’s waiting mouth there to drink down everything you could give him, you froze, body rigid as you struggled to catch your breath. 

When your legs began shaking, you weakly pled for Frankie to stop, but at first, he didn’t, mouth continuing to work over your swollen skin, though he moved away from your center and back down to the inner part of your thigh. The intensity was still there but it was muted - you felt the way his lips lingered where they landed, the tremble of his chin as he fought to catch his breath, fingers stroking over the skin of your thigh. Despite his best efforts, you could feel that you were soaked, as was the lower half of his face.

You loosened your hold on him, the man already beginning to soften, and you unsteadily swung your leg back over his body before you collapsed onto the bed next to him, flat on your back and eyes on the ceiling.  “J…Jesus, Frankie.” He drew in a breath and then moved, too, sitting up and looking down at you as he wiped a hand over his chin and cheeks. “Was that what -” He lowered himself back onto the bed next to you, lips close to your ear. 

“Now I’m gonna think about that for the next couple days.” He kissed your cheek, breath warm. “Probably a lot fucking longer, too.” Turning your head to face him, you were surprised to see that his eyes were shining - not with lust but with admiration. Oh, he… 

“Which part?” Crossing one arm over your bare chest, you ran your fingers through his damp beard, unable to keep the smile off of your face. 

“All of it.” He leaned in closer, ready to kiss you. “But especially the way you t-” His words were cut off by the rattling of the doorknob, followed by someone banging on it. 

“Hey, ‘Fish!” Pope. “Get dressed and get out here.”  There was a pause, and then another series of bangs against the door. “Come on, Morales! Need a ping pong partner.” Frankie groaned from next to you, and you knew that whatever had been about to happen was going to be put on hold until later. Fucking Pope. 

“He’s not gonna leave us alone.” Frankie sighed, sitting up. “You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to, but -”

“No, I’ll stay.” You pushed up into a sitting position, too. “I brought a change of clothes for when we were done in the hot tub anyway.” Not that I wanted to put them on this early, but…

A few minutes later, you and Frankie had both used the bathroom to clean up, swished with mouthwash, and were dressed, the man standing in front of the mirror over the dresser and running his fingers through his hair in an attempt to tame it. “Can we sleep at your place tonight? These guys are gonna be up with -”

“Yeah. I know at least one of my friends has a guy there, but I’m sure it won’t be as loud as -” Frankie said your name, turning away from the mirror and heading to where you stood, waiting for him to be ready to leave. “Hmm?” 

“Do not let me play more than two or three games, otherwise we’ll be here until the sun comes up.” He was moving closer with each word, and when he was right in front of you, he reached out, hands going to your hips and sliding beneath the bottom of your shirt to rest against your skin. “You’re incredible.” Lowering his head, he kissed you softly. “No more than two games.” 

Laughing, you nodded as he stepped away and reached for the doorknob. “Two games.” 

— 

Frankie’s warning had been a necessary one, because even though you were having a good time watching as he and Pope faced off against two of the girls that had come over, without intervention, they would have played all night. The men were competitive, Pope spending most of the first game with his tongue poking out between his teeth, a look of fierce concentration in his eyes and Frankie following his lead, the man’s hand reaching out to make quick - and accurate - swats.

Will and one of the dark haired women had wandered off in the middle of the game after they’d played and lost to Benny and Pope, and Benny was sitting on the edge of the pool with another - someone that you hadn’t seen earlier when they’d all walked out of the house. The guys’ opponents were the redhead and a blonde, all four of them laughing as the ball bounced across the table and you looked on. 

Frankie made it a point to find you with his gaze every few minutes, the man turning away from the table to high five you when he and Pope scored, or to pout when the girls did, and even though it wasn’t necessary, the attention warmed your entire body. Your earlier jealousy hadn’t even been because you thought he was paying attention to the other woman, and so the fact that he was going out of his way to include you in what he was doing meant a lot. 

When you excused yourself to go inside and get something to drink, you casually pressed a hand against his shoulder, asking what he wanted. “How about some of that whiskey you brought?” He laughed, Pope shoving his arm to get him to pay attention as the redhead lobbed a ball over the net at them. “No mixer.” 

It only took you a few minutes to pour the drinks for yourself and Frankie, though you did mix yours with Coke, and by the time you were back outside, the four of them were taking a break between games, Pope typing on his phone while Frankie and Benny made conversation with the three women. “Here.” Reaching out, you held the plastic cup up for Frankie. “Just whiskey and ice.” 

“Got her makin’ drinks for you already, ‘Fish?” Pope nudged him, and you heard Benny snort, but Pope’s expression was kind. “Must be nice.” Frankie grumbled at him under his breath, lifting his arm and laying it over your shoulders as he took a sip. “Wanna play again? You and I know that -”

“Might have to take a raincheck on that, Pope.” Frankie cleared his throat. “Getting kinda tired, actually.” You were about to speak up, telling him that it was alright with you if they played one more game when a new voice spoke up, everyone turning toward the house at the sound. 

“I’ll play with you, Santiago.” Jordan was walking into the back yard, her hair thrown up into a messy bun and a thin sweatshirt hanging off of one shoulder. “Just got your text.” Oh, that’s interesting. Her gaze moved to you, smile never faltering. “Everyone’s asleep at our place. Taylor’s got a … guest, but he was really fucking quiet, so…” She shrugged, jerking her head toward your house. “Have at it.”

You caught the look that Frankie was giving Pope, the two men saying something without any actual words being spoken, and then Frankie was focused on you again. “Wanna head back over? That way no one will wake us up walking past my door.” 

“Oh, like you’re going to bed right away… you’re not fucking fooling anyone.” He isn’t wrong. Pope and Jordan were already back next to the table, the other two women waiting for the game to start. “I’m just giving you shit. Me an’ Jordan will be over in a little while.” Turning his head toward where you stood, Pope nodded once and then picked up a paddle, getting back into position. “Let’s do this shit.” 

“C’mon.” Frankie spoke into your ear, his breath laced with whiskey. “Let’s get back before they try and make me play again.” You didn’t even bother saying goodbye, though you did let your eyes linger on Benny and the girl he was kissing, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Good. Good for him. 

You were in your house only a few minutes later, you and Frankie making your way up the steps as quietly as you could, but instead of heading into your room, you bypassed it and went out onto the front balcony, dropping into chairs so that you could finish your drinks. “Those other two must be really disappointed.” Turning your head to look at him, you bit back a giggle. “You left with me and Pope called over someone to spend the night with.” 

“You’d be surprised,” he started, sipping from the cup. “While you were inside, the blonde one asked if we had a place for them to sleep tonight, because she said she wasn’t going to leave her friends, and the redhead casually mentioned that she could room with Pope.” Yeah, because it was clear you weren’t available. 

“Oh, so that’s why he texted Jordan.” You laughed then, tilting your head back to look up at the sky. “At least she didn’t try and suggest your room.” 

“Hey, she can sleep there if she wants. Not like I’m gonna be using it.” Reaching over, he took your free hand in his and squeezed. “The bed’s a little dirty, but…” Yeah it is. “They’re sleeping in one of the bunk bed rooms. Sucks for them, but it’s all we have.” Yeah, that does suck. “We were supposed to wake up early tomorrow and go out on a boat with one of our old unit buddies.” Frankie checked his phone, groaning. “But seeing as it’s almost 1:30 already, I don’t think it’s happening.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to keep you up late.” He shook his head as he waved you off, shifting in the chair to get comfortable. “Alright.” You took another drink from your cup, nodding. “Do you need to get ahold of him or something? Let him know that all of you are entertaining company for the night, and -”

“Tom will. He might already have done it. Redfly acts like he’s got a stick up his ass sometimes, but he’s pretty on top of shit.” He sat straight up, tilting his head back as he drained the remainder of his drink and then tossed the ice cubes over the balcony railing between the houses. “They’ll text me and Pope, and if we don’t answer, we don’t answer. Shit happens.” You sat up, too, the last swallow of the liquid in your cup making its way down your throat.

“Well then if you’ve got nowhere to be in a couple hours, we should go inside.” Standing, you faced Frankie. “Because I’m pretty sure we were interrupted right before we could…” He stood, too, reaching for the cup you held and then set them both on the small table next to your chair. Got you. “Finish what we started.”   

“Oh, we’ll finish that alright.” He was murmuring the words as he walked you backwards and toward the sliding door. The man kept his distance, even though he had a hand on one of your hips. “I promise.” 

—  

Tag list coming separately! 

[theinvisiblecapricorn]

Surprise, surprise.

Author's note: This is my first ever written one shot. The inspiration popped into my head during my shower. Please let me know what you think. Enjoy

Fluffy one shot.

Part 1.

// Introduction //

A little info about Y/N and Vinnie.

So, you guys met during the first Covid lockdown.

You weren’t really seeing anyone of your friends during this time because you didn’t feel like taking any risks. So the only way for you to interact with anyone, was via social media. Before lockdown you also kind of give up on the idea of finding a lover because the last time you gave it a shot it didn’t work out.

You remember one of your best friends told you ‘’ Once you start focusing on yourself, it’ll come to you. ‘’ Well, what better way to focus on yourself other than during quarantine?

That’s when Vinnie came into the picture.

After many failed attempts of having a normal conversation with serval people, the last thing Vinnie expected was to meet someone like you. A lot of the time people tried to take advantage of the fact that he was famous. They would post his personal info on social media and share their conversations for clout. Just like you, Vinnie was kind of over the idea of meeting someone who would like him for his personality instead of his name.

You guys instantly clicked. It felt like talking to someone you’ve known your entire life. There wasn’t a thing you couldn’t share with another. But because the two of you lived in different time zones you couldn’t talk as much as you’d like, but you made it manageable. There was only one problem; traveling was not an option due to Covid, so the two of you had never seen each other in real life.

Until now…

// End of introduction //

Alex (Warren) set up his camera to make a video.

He clicked on record and looked into the camera.

‘’ So as you guys know, Vinnie and Y/N met online in the beginning of Covid, but they’ve never officially seen each other in real life. Now that traveling is allowed again and Vinnie hasn’t been feeling himself lately, I thought it was a good idea to surprise him. I bought y/n a plan ticket so she can come over and hopefully cheer Vinnie up. And I will document the entire journey. ‘’

// Vinnie’s POV //

It’s noon. I lay on my bed, scrolling on my phone through TikTok. I haven’t heard from Y/N all day. Normally she would call me before going to bed herself, but she never did. I tried texting her but no reply.

Y/NNNN????

Yo bro, you there???

I miss your voiceeee

Please don’t be asleep already 

Pick up!!!!!! Or else I’m coming for you.

God, I wish I could just fly to wherever she was at and kiss her entire face. Because, yes, I am indeed in love with her, and she feels the same way about me. I just never thought I could recognize so much of myself in someone else. She’s the most kind, beautiful and loving person I know, and I can’t wait to hold her in my arms one day and never let go.

I’m starting to daydream about a life with y/n without the long distance, because it truly sucks. Then I hear a knock on the door and before I know it Alex comes rushing in with his camera in his hand.

( Vinnie & Alex )

‘’ Vinnie, say hello to everyone! ‘’

‘’ Hello everyone. Alex what do you want? ‘’

‘’ Why are you assuming I want something from you? ‘’

‘’ Because you only enter my room if you either have one of your crazy ideas to share or if you want me to get involved in something I probably shouldn’t get involved into. ‘’

‘’ Pfft, not true. My ideas aren’t crazy, they’re brilliant in their own way. ‘’

Alex grins at me. Suspiciously.

‘’ Anyways that’s not the point Vincent, I actually came in to see if you would join me to get some groceries because the only thing left are rise waffles and I’m starving. ‘’

Alex is blinking his eyes with the same grin he has had on from the moment he came into my room.

He’s not going to leave until I agree on coming. So before I know it, we’re on our way to the grocery store.

// Y/N’s POV //

I received a text from Alex a few weeks ago. He told me about his idea to surprise Vinnie. I couldn’t be more excited. Ever since Vinnie and I started talking I have pushed many of my personal boundaries. In a positive way. Vinnie has helped me regain trust in others and has showed me that love is real. I have lost my faith in love due to my previous experiences. That’s why the connection that I have with Vinnie is so important to me.

I have arrived at the airport as I turn on my phone. My phone starts to receive all the missed text messages and calls from Vinnie. I smile as I read through them.

‘’ Oh Vin, if only you knew ‘’ I think to myself.

I hear someone yelling my name behind me. As I turn around, I see Nailea running towards me.

Nailea is a close friend of Vinnie so of course she was the first to know about Vinnie’s contact with me. She’s been super kind to me, and I consider her as the sister I never had.

Nailea hugs me once she has approached me.

( Y/N & Nailea )

‘’ OH MY GOD. Girl, I am so happy that you’re finally hereeeee!!! ’’

I laugh as I see people around looking at us.

‘’ I am also very happy to be here. To finally meet everyone. For real. ‘’

‘’ Yea, now tell me, does my nose look bigger on the screen than in real life? ‘’

‘’ Hahaha, no Nai. You look fantastic on the screen and even better in real life. ‘’

Nailea and I take my stuff and walk out of the airport.

Once settled in the car, I receive a text from Alex:

We’re almost at the store. He hasn’t got a clue. See you there.

This is all a part of Alex his big plan. First, I will act like a regular costumer shopping at the same store as Vinnie and Alex. Then once they get back, Alex will distract Vinnie just a little longer, so he won’t notice me walking past the car right away. Brilliant.

// Vinnie’s POV //

Alex and I walk into the store.

‘’ Alright, what do we need? ‘’

‘’ Anything but rise waffles. ‘’

I shake my head, laughing, as I walk to the lemonade aisle.

Alex is taking out his camera and starts filming me from a far.

I start singing Paparazzi by Lady Gaga as I act like I'm hiding from him.

‘’ Oh, you should also take a few cans of coke. ‘’ Alex suggests.

As I walk towards the aisle with cans of lemonade, I notice a girl standing in front of it. Her hair instantly reminds me of Y/N. The exact same length, color and texture. Call me a simp, but I just pay a lot of attention to the girl I love. I slowly approach the girl before Alex attacks be by throwing a teddy bear on my head.

‘’ Hey, watch it! ‘’ I fix my hair.

‘’ Sorry man, I just know how much you like teddy bears. ‘’ Alex’s laughing out loud as he zooms in to my face.

I laugh, as I start to think back to the day Alex thought it would be funny to buy a giant teddy bear and have Patrick in it to scare me.

Just then, I notice the girl was gone. I didn’t see her anywhere else again.

After collecting all the stuff, we needed, we went home.

Once we arrived home, Alex stopped me before I opened my car door.

‘’ Let’s just sit here for a bit and talk about some stuff. ‘’ I stare at Alex with a confused look on my face.

‘’ Yea, because the viewers want to know, how are things going between you and Y/N? ‘’

I scratch the back of my neck and start feeling the heat take over my cheeks.

‘’ I mean, it’s hard sometimes. She’s one of the most important people in my life, yet I haven’t even met her in person. But I just know that once I do, that everything will naturally fall into it’s place. ‘’

Alex pouts as he listens to all the sweet things I have to say.

‘’ You really like her, don’t you? ‘’

‘’ I mean, yea I do. I really do. ‘’

‘’ Alright, so imagine her standing in front of you right now, what would you do? ‘’

I look at my hands as I start to imagine a situation like that.

‘’ Uh… If she was standing in front of me right now.. I would.. ‘’ My eyes scan a figure walking past the car and I couldn’t believe my eyes.

// Y/N’s POV //

Shit, I almost got caught. The plan was to go into the store, just to admire Vinnie from a far. I didn’t plan to stand in the exact aisle, where he needed to get something from. Luckily, Alex had a plan to distract Vinnie while I fled to the exit. Phew, that was close.

Alex texted me, saying they were on their way home. That’s when it hit me, I am going to be able to see, touch and kiss Vinnie for the first time ever. Nailea noticed my anxiety kicking in and she told me everything would be just fine.

It didn’t take long before Alex’s car pulled up on the driveway. Alex and Vinnie stayed in the car for a bit. My phone started buzzing as I read the notification: ‘’ Now!’’ That was my cue.

As nervous as one can be, I walked past the car with the person who’s the other half of my heart in it. I didn’t dare to look in his direction.

// Vinnie’s POV //

I couldn’t believe my eyes. This isn’t real right? Was I dreaming? I mean, I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night because I was worried sick due to Y/N not responding to me anymore.

I rub my eyes as I watch in the direction of the person again and there’s no way it couldn’t be her.

Then she turns her face into my direction and my heart starts pounding. There she is, the love of my life, the only person who can make my day just by popping up in my notifications, Y/N.

As I try to open my door, I hear Alex locking it.

‘’ Let me out! ‘’ I look at Alex as I try to unlock the door, but unable because he keeps his hand infront of the lock.

‘’ You haven’t answered my question yet. ‘’ Alex smirks at me, but I do not find it funny at all.

‘’ Please, let me out and I’ll show you what I would do if she were to stand in front of me ‘’

And with, I heard the door unlock. I jumped out of the car and ran as fast as I could to the person who I longed for the most.

Click here for part two;

[jjungkooksthighs]

Edacity | jjk (m)

Pairing: boyfriend!jungkook x reader

 Genre: platter of smut, the barest hint of fluff and the tiniest garnishment of angst / nonidol!au / college!au

 Rating: 18+ / nsfw

 Word Count: 8.2k

 Summary: After a rough day at college in your biochemistry class, you come home to your boyfriend, who is sweetly making you dinner. In his efforts to help calm you down, he only riles you up when you realize that it’s not the food you’re hungry for…it’s him.  

 Warnings: dom!jungkook, possessive!jungkook, jealous!jungkook, big cock!jungkook, sub!reader, lots of dirty talk (let’s face it I love that shit), praising, fingering, grinding, fellatio (cock sucking), cock worship (just a smidge), unprotected sex (reader has a birth control implant in her arm but Koo doesn’t like condoms, so yeah), breast/nipple play, nipping, marking via hickeys, sucking, pussy stretching, rough and possessive sex, begging, muscle kink, scratching, precum play if that’s a thing, manhandling, pinning down, cursing, wet and messy sex (kind of), degradation kink (koo calls you a slut a couple times but that’s about it), size kink, hair pulling

 A/N: This fic is brought to you by 201008 Jungkook from the “Savage Love” video he posted. I saw it, got horny and then wrote this filth. Blame him for this, not me. Also, please let me know what you guys think. Your feedback means more to me than you know. Tagging @nervouskiwi​ , @tricethecharm​ and @nightshadevinter​ per their request! 

The door to your apartment opens and shuts with a heaved sigh from you as you drop your bag to the floor with a thump, the day’s toil stemming from an unhelpful and unknowledgeable lab partner finally taking its toll on you while you rub your eyes as if to clear away the sight of the freshman boy who’d stared dumbly at the temperature probe and gas pressure sensor before asking you which was which in your biochemistry class. After that, he’d proceeded to clumsily knock over the catalase solution you were meant to measure enzyme activity with on several occasions in his ceaseless cloddishness.

 Even your professor had not noticed your lab partner’s negligence despite the seven times that you’d had to go procure a new vial of solution from the back of the classroom and when you’d asked to just do the lab alone upon finding out that your lab companion didn’t even know how to work the magnetic stirrer, your teacher still had not yielded to your plea. You had ended up doing all of the work and your efforts had gone entirely unnoticed to all but yourself. Well, almost everyone.

 “Bad day?” The mellifluous voice of your boyfriend of three years wafts over to your ears and you don’t have to open your eyes to know he’s in the kitchen directly to your left, your body instinctively wanting to seek the comfort of his warm embrace after such a long day. The sound of him already has the agitation crumbling, his voice the music to your ears that you are sure you will never tire of.

 “Terrible,” you whine, “my professor paired me with someone that didn’t even know what the equipment we were using was called. I had to do all the work.”

 “Aww…I’m sorry to hear that. Come here, babe. I’ll make it all better, yeah?” He asks.

 Your body is already moving at that and there’s the distinct clinking of a utensil against cookware that dots the space of your shared apartment. When you breathe in the succulent smell of sundubu-jjigae (one of your favorites of his) the earlier irritation is drawn away as you take in the aroma that has your stomach rumble tellingly in hunger. You really hadn’t been in want of food before you walked in, so now you’re not sure if it’s the dinner that has you craving or if it’s the person that made it.

  Wanting to look upon the source of the delicatessen, you open your eyes to find your boyfriend who is already gazing softly at you while he-with one occupied and tattooed hand-attends to the stew and it is as if the frustration is drained from you immediately as you drink in the sight of domesticity.

 His hair has been drawn up in a manbun that would be an instant panty-dropper if he went outside right now with the way that he’s left some of his chocolate brown fringe to frame each side of his face. It is wavy with the water from the shower he must’ve taken in the way that it darkly curves to the sides along his eyes and that alone has you suck in a breath. You let your eyes trail downward, your own malnourishment throughout the day causing familiar hungry desire to begin to pool heatedly within you at the visage of the black pajamas you’d bought for him a week ago after he’d ripped his previous pair apart in one particular voracious spur of energy to hastily plunge himself into the silken depths of your pussy. The striped shirt he now wears is open deliciously into a perfect ‘V’ shape that boasts the luscious expanse of his chest all the way down before tortuously stopping at the crest before his navel. He wears the matching pair of pants, their length giving a salacious view of his calves that you are sure the gods themselves must have had a hand in crafting.

  In the dimmed light of the kitchen, you can see the shadows that curl temptingly around his abdominals, your fingers inadvertently twitching against your sides in your want to touch, to feel him again.

 You know from experience how defined his chest is. You know how hot his skin is against your fingers. You know the bliss his body grants, for he has reminded you timelessly in the way that his perfect cock finds its dwelling in the wet warmth of either your mouth or your pussy as he brings you to paradise. You’re quite sure that you’ll never be able to sate yourself of him, the memory of him driving his cock into you from this morning bringing a familiar wave of desire to wash over you. You’d left him on the bed with a hardened cock after round two upon deciding to ride his thigh, thoughts of his pleading words and strained expression living in your thoughts all day long in your decision to punish him for grinding his cock into your ass so early into the morning.

 Usually he wouldn’t have gone so easy on you, but after all your texts throughout the day that were telling of your stresses, he couldn’t find it in himself to discipline you. Wanting to ensure that you felt better, he had decided to wait. After all, patience was a virtue, as you had told him before.

 Before you know it, you’re standing before him, one of his arms winding around you to pull you close as you let your irises dip from his eyes to those lips of his that must’ve been created by the devil himself in how they tempt you. Your boyfriend watches with interest, arousal coloring him internally when you look back up at him, your eyes beginning to cloud over in lust as you slide your hand down the sliver of his chest that he’s left uncovered for you. His skin receives you as if it had been waiting for this very moment, his muscles flexing proudly as you stroke the heated skin with appreciation. He’s more taut than usual under your touch which means he must have gotten back from the gym some time ago in the way that his muscles are tightly tensed from such use.

 It is that thought that has you press your lips to his in a heated kiss, your tongue sliding through his parted lips to kittenishly lick along the roof of his mouth to earn a groan from him, the sound caught between your lips and travelling with sonic speed right down to your pussy. He takes control when you try to wrap your tongue around his, the hot muscle plunging straight into your mouth as the other hand he’d been using to stir the stew abandons its earlier movements to find purchase on your ass as he squeezes you firmly between his fingers. When you disconnect, it is with a pant after the breath he has stolen from you.

 You breathe, “You’ve already made it better, Kookie, but do you want to know something?” You question as you bring your lip between your teeth, enjoying the way his eyes fix on that action as the inklings of desire begin to manifest in his eyes, in the way the soft exterior he’d been showing earlier begins to melt into something darker and far more primal under your attention.

 “Tell me, baby,” He husks as you close one hand around the silk of his shirt to bunch the fabric between your fingers as you dare to unearth the heated skin of his left pectoral, “If this is how you’re going to greet me, I would very much like to know.”

 When your mouth descends upon him to give soft, featherlight kisses along the line of his exposed chest, you manage to utter between them, “I bet the food you made for us is delicious, but the only thing I want to taste right now-” you peer up at him through a fan of dark lashes “-is you. You’re the only one who can give me what I really crave.”

 Your boyfriend’s eyes darken instantly at that, his other hand finding its place along your ass and you need no instruction to wrap your legs around him as he lifts you like you’re a feather only to prop you back down on the cold, hard countertop as he growls, “What a needy little girl you are. Didn’t have enough of this cock this morning, huh? God, you’re such a slut for me, aren’t you?”

 He lowers his head and you instinctively bare your neck for him, your legs spreading so he can step between them as you let your head fall back while one of his hands is already there to cup your nape in his effort to hold you there. You both keep your eyes locked on each other the whole time, desire burgeoning to life wildly within you as he peers at you with a hooded gaze while he moves torturously slow to where you want him and finally, finally, his lips find their home in a hot, open-mouthed kiss on the sensitive spot on right under your ear. 

The warmth of his mouth has you gasp, your back straightening as one of your hands finds purchase in his hair to coax him downward as you mewl, “Yes, Kookie…yes. I’m only a slut for you. It’s only ever been you.”

 You hastily unbutton his shirt while he lets you and instantly you’re salivating at the perfect canvas of him that is presented to you as the offending piece of clothing is pushed off his shoulders. Your palms, magnetized to him, splay over his abs, catching on the ridges of the defined set of muscles as they jump excitedly under your touch while you trail your hands upward. He sighs in satisfaction against your skin when the pads of your fingertips graze his dark nipples and you nearly coo at the sound of that alone.

 “That’s right, Y/N. No one else makes you this desperate, huh?”  He manages between kisses.

 You nod as much as you can in this position and you feel the way his lips turn upward in a smirk borne of the boost to his ego, his lips descending down the column of your neck in a wet trail and it is when he gets to the jugular notch between your collarbones that he presses the wet, heated muscle of his tongue to the delicate skin there that you keen, your fingers curling inward within his hair as he hisses at the pull and in punishment, nips you there. 

You are utterly powerless to stop your juices from collecting along your folds that you know is going to ruin your underwear. Without thinking, your hips begin to search for friction and you grind against him, the warm bulge of his member hardening under your ministrations.

 “A-ah, Kookie, please.” You beg for his mercy and his grin deepens as both of his hands run down your clothed arms. His mouth continues to trail across the sliver of skin over your shoulders and when his hands make another pass upward along you, you watch the way that his brows scrunch together as if disturbed by something and suddenly his devilish mouth is gone. The unforgiving cold is left in his absence and you whine at his loss, not understanding why he has stopped.

 Both of his hands settle on the countertop to either side of you as he leans forward, his tongue hotly poking against his cheek in a sight that only makes you wetter when his eyes narrow, “You smell different. Why?”

 Your boyfriend has always had a sensitive nose, but right now, you’re hardly in the mindset to think about what it is that he’s disgruntled about as you whimper, “Kook, I was doing a lab and dealing with chemicals. That’s all, okay?”

 You watch his fingers curl inward until they’re white with how hard he’s gripping the marble, his jaw setting as he hisses, “This morning you left smelling like me after I fucked you,” he grasps your chin with one hand, “Now you smell like someone else. Explain or you will get none of this cock that I know you want so bad.”

 You try to think past the haze of desire, you really do, but all you can do is blink owlishly as you try to navigate the sea of want for him that has filled your mind. Under his piercing gaze, you’re frozen in place and you swallow thickly to manage the only answer that your mind can supply with a stammer, I-I… It was my lab partner,” you watch his expression begin to contort in anger and before he can sink further into the emotion, you put both hands to either side of his face in effort to keep his attention on you, “He kept brushing against me when I was doing measurements for the assignment, Jungkook. It was nothing. He is nothing to me. I promise.”

 You hadn’t really thought of the implications of the first thing that you’d said, but you could see the momentary fury that had begun to color his very irises and wanting to quell it, you urge him close, your hands falling to rest on his chest as you plead with your eyes for him to understand. You both have been together three years and deep down, your boyfriend knows you would never betray him like that, but the lion of possession within him had roared loudly and there was little he could do to quiet it without the reassurance you had been so quick to feed it with.

 Before you have time to process anything, your shirt has been torn from your body and lands somewhere behind you, but you have no care for that right now. Instead, your focus is on Jungkook, the anger that had begun to set in his irises overtaken by something far more carnal as he orders, “Get on your knees, Y/N. I think you need to be punished for letting someone else touch what isn’t theirs. You’re mine,” he boldly wraps a hand around each breast to give a harsh squeeze, “show me you can be a good girl and suck me off until all you know is the feeling of me on your tongue.”

 His words have fresh arousal depositing itself between your thighs and with a submissive nod, your body obeys. He watches you with a darkened, lustful gaze as you lower yourself to the hardwood floor, your hands still by your sides while your boyfriend, all in one go, sheds his matching pajama pants until they puddle along his feet abandonedly. 

Your mouth waters at the sight of his thick, muscled thighs that you’ve fucked yourself on more times than you count, but your salivary glands do not fully exert themselves in hunger until your irises trail up to the thick shaft that arches deliciously upward as a constellation of veins scale along it all the way up the bulbous head that is already wet with precum. His tip rests artfully along his abdominals in some kind of lewd painting brought to life that you could stare forever and a day at, a whine coming from your lips as you lick them.

 Your boyfriend watches with interest as you ogle him and when he sees the pink of your tongue draping itself sinfully against his lip, he declares, “If you don’t get your mouth on me right now, baby, I’m going to fuck your face later, yeah?”

 That one has you moaning in thought, your boyfriend’s lips turning up in a smirk as you quickly lean forward, both hands trailing slowly up his legs and compressing around the thick, corded muscle as you do. When your hands find his member, you lightly run the tips of your fingers over his aching dick, the veins there throbbing energetically at your touch. He groans at that and then one of your hands encircles itself over his base where you gently squeeze the half of him that your fingers can reach, your other hand curling around him and stroking up and down as he grunts in pleasure, his eyes screwing shut.

 You swallow with some effort when your thumb runs over his slit to collect more of his fluid before swathing it along his glans as you ready him for your mouth. He’s already substantially hard, but you have no doubt that he will become even more so when you finally do suck him off. He really does have the world’s most perfect dick and you don’t think you’ve ever seen a thicker, bigger and better one than his. 

Granted, you’ve only ever actually seen and felt his, but you have never had a wish to have anyone else’s. You couldn’t possibly have room to want anything else when he fills you so deliciously, when he fits inside you like he was made for you.

 “Such a nice, pretty cock, Kookie…thank you for letting me have it,” you praise.

 As you bring him toward your waiting mouth, you blow out a puff of air to have him suck in a breath, his jaw clenching as one hand finds itself in your hair to guide you forward. With one final look up to his face, you take him into your mouth to watch his face contort into an expression of pleasure, his eyebrows scrunched together and his hair veiling his face to the point where you can only see his eyes based on the glint in each iris that flashes erotically at you as he takes a stuttered breath. 

Your walls clench contract around nothing as his member fills the wet cavern of your mouth while you try to take him as far as you can. Even like this, your hand still holds his base in his profound length despite the fact that you’ve gotten him as far your throat will allow.

 You’ve deep-throated him many times in the bliss that you have discovered you can grant him and now will be no different. There is nothing that you enjoy more than knowing that you alone can give him pleasure.

 When you’ve fitted him inside your mouth a little bit more, that’s when you run your tongue along his length before sucking, your cheeks hollowing out as you do. Your boyfriend’s fingers tighten in your hair as he growls, “Yeah, that’s it, baby. God, you’re so perfect for me. That little mouth takes me so fucking well.”

 You swallow around him, drawing him deeper into your throat as you all but guzzle him in your ministrations. He leaves a salty taste on your tongue in the precum that you collect and you can’t say you don’t fucking love the taste of him. You hungrily slide your tongue over his slit before kittenishly licking along the sides, a guttural moan tearing itself from the recesses of his body as he bucks under your ministrations.

 When your boyfriend opens his eyes to peer down at you, it’s enough to have his cock throb inside your wet warmth. The way that his cock disappears beyond the cradle of your lips is sin itself, but the way that you stare heatedly at him with desire simmering hotly in those irises of yours…Jungkook thinks if eroticism had a picture, you would be it right now. 

He’s just hit the back of your throat and because of that, drool has begun to pool along the sides of your mouth and fondness floods him at the sight, his thumb brushing away the spit only to lather it over your lips as he croons, “Look at my beautiful, messy girl starting to fall apart on my cock. Fuck, you’re so good for me, Y/N. Such an obedient little girl,” you suction your mouth intensely around him at that, “Think you can take me farther? I bet you can fit all of me down that tight throat of yours if you really try.”

 His praises have your walls fluttering around nothing as you engulf him impossibly farther into your mouth with another swallow, the wet slurping sounds of your ministrations filling the room as he starts to massage your head through tightened fingers that pull at the roots of it. You inhale through your nose, unable to any longer breathe through your mouth through the cock that blocks your airway and in one fluid motion, you press forward and try, but fail, not to gag around him as his dick sinks further into your throat.

 Tears instantly threaten to fall from your eyes as they water, your vision becoming blurry as you sputter against his dick. The sensation of your throat closing around him earns a hiss as he responsively thrusts his cock into you, unable to stop himself from chasing his pleasure.

 You let him fuck your mouth, enjoying the sounds of rapture that tumble freely from his mouth and content in the knowledge that you are able to gift him this euphoria. Tears are quick to fall from your eyes as you suckle him, the wide girth of him easily hitting your gag reflex in the back of your throat as you trail your tongue along the underside of his shaft while you slacken your jaw to ease his access.

 Your boyfriend coos while he watches your tits rise and falls with the efforts of your breaths, “Such beautiful tits, baby. If you hadn’t been a bad girl earlier today, maybe I could have used them as a cocksleeve. I bet you would have liked that, too, you dirty slut.” 

 You preen at his words with a moan, the vibrations of that heightening his pleasure and it is when you slide a free hand under him to grasp and fondle his balls that are extremely full in the seed that aches with need to be released that he grunts with fervor and when you roll them in your hands like dice before you gently run the pads of your fingers over them, he throws his head back, his mouth parting as he drives his cock into you one more time. With how far down his cock hits at your larynx now, you can’t see him any longer through the blurred vision as tears stream down your cheeks while you cry out his name.

 “Fu-fuck, baby. I can’t l-last much longer if you keep doing that. You really love this cock, don’t y-you? Tell me how much you love it. I w-wanna hear it with my cock in your mouth.” He manages through labored breaths.

 You hum in agreeance, the burn of his dick inherently insistent as he moves and the vibrations your sound makes has his cock throbbing dangerously as it begins to swell in warning of his impending end. He’s so hard already and your pussy aches to receive him, your walls contracting around nothing at the feel of his hot member between your lips.

 “I love it, Kookie. I love it so much. Love how big you are.” You splutter despite the very large dick currently nestled between your lips.

 You make a point to show him by swiveling your hand around what little of him is beyond the reaches of your mouth at this point while your other hand drags itself downward from his balls to rub at his perineum. That one has his back bowing inward, his fingers fisting in your hair as he groans and you can feel how his cock pulses in warning of his climax that you cannot wait to taste the fruits of as you flick your tongue along his length once, twice and then three times before suddenly, with a guttural sound, his fist pulls at your hair roughly to effectively extricate himself from your mouth as he breathes laboriously above you.

 You both watch as your spittle clings to his cock in a thin line in its attempts to remain connected to him until it sadly breaks off and away. You whimper at the loss of him, blinking up at him far too innocently for someone that just had a dick rammed down their throat and you watch the way his eyes flash cravingly at you only to rub your neglected thighs together in search of some friction.

 “As good as that was, baby,” he lowers himself down to your level to wipe away the tears that had collected along the sides of your face as he darkly declares, “there’s somewhere else that I want to cum in today and you’re going to let me, aren’t you?”

 You nod without a thought, his hands are quick to wrap around your waist and lift you with ease until you’re splayed out on your back for him along the countertop that is mercifully long enough to support your torso. Your legs dangle precariously off the edge, but they never reach the floor and like this, you’re granted an unfettered view of him, his now engorged dick standing to attention along his abdominals and when you peer up at his blown out irises, you release a shaky sigh in anticipation as he licks his lips like you’re a meal he’s about to fucking devour.

 “You know, I wanted to eat you out, baby. I really did,” he husks as he steps forward between your legs that you part in invitation, “but you sucked me off so good that now all I can think about is ramming this cock into you so hard that you won’t remember anything but my name and getting my fill of you until you milk me fucking dry, Y/N.”

 Arousal ignites within you at that and you pleadingly implore, “I want you to do that, gods, I do, but first, Kook…kiss me. Please, kiss me. After that, you can fuck me to your heart’s content.”

 You don’t know how you find yourself wanting even more of him, but you do. His mouth, you are sure, is the work of an incubus in the way that it can work sinfully against you. The words that tumble from them light the fires of desire within you and just want to feel the warmth of his lips again, honestly. 

 He arches a brow at this as he leans over you, one hand finding purchase along your waist as he rasps, “You want me to taste myself, baby? Is that it?”

 You can tell by the lilt in his voice that he’s playing with you and you already know this is a game he will ultimately lose, for you have a trick up your sleeve that he forever and always falls for. You let your hand slither along your body, your index finger dipping between your wet folds while he watches with a hooded gaze as you bring your soiled hand to your lips to dapple your essence over them like a lewd lipstick before you angle your chin up invitingly to beseech, “Won’t you taste me, Kookie? Don’t you want to taste us? Please,” you whine,” all I want is a kiss. No one...no one kisses me like Jeon Jungkook. Please, Kookie. I want your mouth so bad.”

 Your boyfriend brings his lip between his teeth at that as he lowers himself down to your level, his sinful irises burning heatedly into your skin as he utters, “That’s it, baby. I love it when you beg for me. So fucking hot.”

 With that, his lips descend over your own, your arms wrapping around him as you mewl into his mouth. He consumes you and drinks from you like you’re his last means of sustenance, his lips capturing yours in voraciousness as his tongue runs boldly along them in quick movements of possession before he’s sliding the wet muscle everywhere he can reach in his mission to claim the depths of your wet cavern. He can taste the remnants of himself on your tongue and with the sweet juices of your sex that you’d lathered over your lips, it’s a combination he has come to thoroughly enjoy the taste of in how well flavor of you both coalesce into something so tangy.

When he’s satisfied with his mapping of your mouth, he draws your lower lip between his teeth before suckling the tender flesh to have you gasp at the sensation.

 Distracted by that alone, you do not notice the hand of his that isn’t currently attached to your waist that snakes slowly downward to slip with ease under your grey sweatpants and between the silk panties that cover your womanhood. Your breath hitches upon the sensation of his long, tattooed fingers dragging themselves against your slit and you’re not surprised at the generous collection of your juices that make his digits glide along your folds, but he hiss he makes is delicious when he curses, “Fuck, Y/N. You’re this wet when I haven’t even touched you? God, you really are a slut for me, huh?”

 With one hand, you entangle your fingers along the hair at the nape of his neck as you breathe, “Only for you, Jungkook. This is all for you.”

 He plunges one finger inside you at your response and immediately sibilates at the way that your wet warmth welcomes his digit enthusiastically and energetically. With as wet as you are, you know that you will have no problem taking him, the considerable amount of slick between your legs tangible evidence of your need to receive and welcome him into your sex. It takes no time at all for him to add a second finger, one thumb rubbing at your clit as you moan his name, your eyes falling shut as under his ministrations. Warm waves of heat fall over you under his touch and you bask in his avid attention. Without extricating his hand from your pussy, he orders, “Take off your pants, baby. I want to see this pretty cunt while I fuck it.”

 You heed his command, one hand disconnecting from around his neck to hurriedly discard your pants and underwear along the floor in one fell swoop as your boyfriend’s hungry irises flick downward to feast upon the visage of your dripping cunt. Something about the way that his fingers disappear into your wet depths transfixes him, the squelching sounds that your pussy makes going straight to his core as arousal flares within him. Wanting to prepare you for him as thoroughly as he can, he continues to swirl his fingers over your clit in measured circles before the two fingers he’s got inside you curl inward in a come hither motion. The sensation has you throwing your head back, a stuttered cry coming from your lips as your fingers tighten in his hair and your unoccupied hand latches onto his strong bicep in search of something, anything to cling to.

 His vision darts upward to your face to catch your expression shift to one of pleasure under his touch, thick and heavy desire for you demandant in its need that manifests in the ache of his cock that pulses with need to find its home within your silken walls. He yearns for you so much now that it’s almost painful to bear it when the source of his relief is only a few inches away and, distantly, he thanks the gods above that you’d gotten a birth control implant before you’d both become intimate for there is no greater heaven, he is sure, than when he is burrowing his cock into you velveteen walls and finishing there where he belongs.

 He lowers himself to your ear, his warm breath pebbling your skin as he husks, “What do you want me to do to you, baby? Do you want this? Or,” you whimper loudly when his fingers are pulled from your pussy only to hitch your breath upon the hot, hard member he is quick to slide against your generously lubricated folds, the edges of him torturously dragging just above your waiting slit as he smirks darkly, “do you want my fat cock? Fuck, you really just can’t get enough of me, can you?”

 You mewl when he takes your earlobe between his teeth, his tip brushing along the tender bundle of nerves along your clit, words escaping you beyond his name as you manage, “Jungkook.”

 You watch as he angles himself along your sopping entrance, the continued sweep of his dick across your folds an erotic sight that has heat lather itself like honey over your core as you wrap your legs around him in answer. Words elude you like your mind is caught in his maze and with every stroke of his cock between your sensitive labia, your mind is brought to a dead-end that you have the truest of troubles navigating.

 Your boyfriend takes your silence as disobedience, both hands laying possessively over pierces you with his commanding gaze, “I asked a question, baby. I require an answer if you want to get fucked,” he punctuates this to mercilessly poke his tip against your entrance while squirm against him, “Use that pretty mouth and tell me what you want or else I’m going to tie you up and leave you crying for me on our bed while you get to watch me finish myself off with my own hand.”

 His words have fresh arousal depositing itself within your folds as you mewl, but under his ministrations that have him running his cock along your sex, his dick catches your newly released taint when you wrap your legs around him in your effort to encourage him inside and he hisses at the sensation as your labia embrace and enfold around his member as he squeezes your sides tight enough that there will be marks there tomorrow in the shape of his fingertips.

“Tell me now, Y/N, or you’re going to be punished. You’ve been so good, baby. Do you really want to be naughty now?” He rasps as he uses the grip he has on your hips to pull you even closer, the promise of sin flashing dangerously in his eyes through the fringe that falls along them.

 Powerless to resist his demand, you submissively whisper, “Want …want your big cock. Want you to fuck me so good with it that I can’t walk and for you to paint my pussy with your seed. God, Jungkook, I want you so much right now. Can I please, please have your cock inside me?”

 Your boyfriend leans up to tower imposingly and commandingly over you, excitement flourishing within you in the anticipation of what he’s about to do to you as he smirks while he angles himself toward your entrance and with a flick of a dark brow, he warns, “Prepare yourself, baby, because I’m not going to go easy on you. I’m going to fucking ruin you because that’s what you deserve for getting me so fucking hard for you, (Y/N).”

 That is all the caution he gives you before, all in one go, he propels his length inside you with a sharp thrust of his hips. You moan as he enters you and he doesn’t stop until he’s fully sheathed within you, his tip just barely missing the cluster of nerves hidden within your center as your mouth parts in an ‘o’ shape.

 Your walls greet him eagerly and envelop him with fervor only to cause him to groan, “Fuck, baby. How are you still this tight after I fucked your little cunt this morning and last night?”

 Lost in the sensation of him buried within you, you can’t find the words to answer him when he starts to impel himself into you without abandon, his irises glazing over in desire as he chases his pleasure. Like this, his bangs hang heavily over him and flit back and forth frenziedly in his ministrations, but you can see his eyes in their entirety now and their darkness seeps straight into your core in the lust that simmers there.

 Captured in his consuming gaze, you notice the way that his irises dip from your own to the neglected breasts that bounce in the jostling movement he wracks on you, heat licking up your spine when you watch the tip of his pink tongue hungrily dart across his lips to wet them. Before you realize what’s happened, his hot mouth is upon one of your mounds, his lips suctioning your tit against him with avid voracity as he leaves a purple petal to blossom there under his ministrations. It joins the myriad of others that he’s left from your previous couplings like brands over your skin and you relish in the new addition that marks you as his.

 “Shit, I love your tits so much. So soft and warm in my mouth. You really do have the most beautiful breasts, baby.” he mutters as you close your eyes at the sensation of him on you, your fingers leaving their own claim on him as you claw your nails down his back while he pounds into you with vigor. He seems to approve with the way that he speeds his movements like the rabbit he reminds of while in some kind of heat. You throw your head back when his velvety lips enclose around your areola, his hot tongue flicking against your pert nipple unrelentingly as you buck underneath him with a weak, broken mewl. The sinful chuckle that erupts from him is felt before it is heard, the deep thrum of the vibrations dripping right through you and straight to your core that clenches around him in response.

 “Please…” You breathe out the only word that can come to mind through the haze of hormones that now cloud your vision.

 When you sink one hand into his locks once more to pull at his hair, he makes a sound of disapproval,  blown irises heating you like a furnace as he focuses his sight on you when he growls, “I’m not done yet, Y/N. I’m going to suck these pretty nipples of yours until they’re  fucking swollen because of me. These,” he blows a warm puff of air against the sensitive areola of your left tit,” are mine. You need to be reminded of that.”

 You whimper at that, his other hand palming at your other breast while he rolls your nipple with practiced ease between his fingers. When he punctuates a particularly acute slam of his hips into you with a long, wetted lick of his tongue in a stripe over your engorged bud, that’s what has your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you wail, his dick hitting your g-spot with precision that tears the sound from your throat in the way that he pairs it with an agonizingly delicious ministration of his tongue.

 He suckles you through it all and when the warmth of his mouth finally leaves you, your breast is freed from him with a ‘pop’ from between his lips and don’t see the way that he’s painted you with his spit, nor the way that he peers longingly at the engorged, abused nipple he’s left in his wake before he’s moving to the other to latch onto your neglected tit like a newborn trying to coax the life-giving essence of milk from you. You cry out when he decides to nip at you, the hand that he’s left on your hip gripping you roughly in effort to keep you in place against his fierce thrusts of his hips inside you.

 Before long, you feel your nipple harden under his ministrations and with a groan, he releases you from his mouth only to rise and watch your freshly marked breasts move laboriously up and down in your strained breaths, the gleam of his spit shining prominently under the dimmed lights in the kitchen. Your neck is arched back and your eyes are screwed shut in the picture of submission as you let him use you for his pleasure while he continues to pound into you with the strength of an ox every single time.

 You feel fingers grasping your chin to urge you to angle your chin downward as he commands, “Look at me, Y/N. When you’re getting fucked by me, you’re going to watch me and keep those pretty eyes on me so you can burn it into that head of yours that there’s only one man who can make you feel this good.”  

 If you weren’t panting before, you surely are now as your body heeds his demand, his words playing you like an instrument as heat coils heavily in your core as you take him in cravingly while he coos, “That’s a good girl. So obedient.”

  He’s leaning above you now, the muscles of his chest flexing and contracting as he rolls his hips piercingly into you to hit just the right spot time and time again, euphoria steadily building each time. His hair, from all of your attention, is mussed and somehow the man bun he’d been sporting before is looser to allow more of his chocolate tresses to frame his face, his lips reddened from lavishing on your breasts. Sweat sluices his skin everywhere, which somehow makes him even more irresistible as you urge him down for another kiss.

 He denies you at first, deciding to smirk cockily as he angles his head and in the movement, you notice the attractive tint of rosiness to his cheeks in the blood that has rushed there through his earlier efforts as he clucks his tongue, “Words, baby. Use that mouth of yours and maybe you’ll get what you want.”

 You whine as he rams into you, your vision jerking upward as you wrack your brain to formulate some kind of response through the sea of lust that resides there now. Somehow, you manage, “I-I want another kiss.”

 His fingers sink deeper into your waist as he prods, “Yeah? Where do you want my mouth, angel?”

 In answer, you take the hand he isn’t holding you with, your digits wrapping around his index finger as you bring it to your mouth to breathe, “Here,” you lower your joined hands in a slow trail down your throat that contradicts the rapid thrusts he impels you with,” here,” you drag his hand through the valley of your breasts until it’s splayed possessively over your stomach, “and here. I want you everywhere, Kookie. Please.”

 Your boyfriend licks his lips as he lowers himself down once more to your level as he husks, “Fuck, the things that you do to me, baby. You’ll get what I decide to give you, yeah?”

 His mouth descends upon you in a French kiss that puts others to shame, his traitorous tongue leaving no part of your mouth untouched and wrapping possessively around your own in a show of dominance that you have no wish to resist. He presses his lips insistently over yours, consuming you in his wet heat that you relinquish your own mouth to. The hand that had been draped along your side before slides along your waist to relish in your contours, his other hand moving behind your head to hold you there as he drinks his fill of you.

 When he breaks for air, you’re breathing heavily and he gives you no time to recover before heavy, lingering kisses are rained down along your jawline and then he’s descending like a stream down the frontal column of your previously marked throat from last night’s exploits with him. He lathers his mouth over you in open-mouthed kisses, his tongue brushing over your sensitive skin while he keen, your back arching up and into him as you press your naked chest against his own to earn a hiss from him while he continues to pound into you relentlessly.

 His name leaves your lips in a stuttered breath, “Jungkook.”

 Your boyfriend croons, “Be good for me and take it, baby. If you do, I’ll let you cum around my cock.”

Your feel your core tighten and clench compactly around him when his mouth trickles down between your breasts, adding a few more hickeys on the way so that there are now entire constellations of his marks in mottled purples and reds all along your body. When he manages to get to your stomach, that’s when he administers a closed-mouthed kiss that is made domineering by the way his irises peer hotly at you before he parts his lips to lick heatedly above the area of your navel as you whimper out.

 With his face inches from your own, you can see the blown out irises that stare hungrily at you, your gaze thirsting to drink him in as the sounds of your coupling fill your ears. With every roll of his hips into you, his balls slap against your pussy mercilessly in combination with the lewd squelches his dick makes as it drives itself into you without pause. 

He rams into you now with the might of ten men, your core tightening around him as he groans in his ministrations. He pulls you into him with the hand that is wrapped around your side, your moans joining his when the hand he’d been holding your head with snakes heavily down your body in a hot trail from your neck and then down to your abdomen before stopping torturously just before your glistening folds. 

 You wrap your fingers around his wrist to urge him where you need him most as you breathe, “C-close, Kookie. I’m almost there. Please, let me cum.”

 Your walls are beginning to tense around him with your impending end and he knows how to play your body like an instrument to get it to sing the tune he wants. He watches you plead with your eyes imploringly at him while he denies you what he knows you want most, instead choosing to plunge himself inside you especially hard to cause you to cry out. There is nothing quite like your pussy, nothing quite like the way that you suck him in and refuse to let him go until you’ve ensured that he has released inside you like an uncontrollable pubescent boy learning how to come for the first time.

 You make him ravenous and in that appetence, the ambrosia that is you is a delicacy he will never grow tired of. So, he indulges in you and lets himself enjoy your sweet depths for as long as he can until you’re screaming nothing but his name in your need to come undone, your thighs trembling from under him as you curl your fingers unyieldingly around his wrist.

 He finally obliges you, his thumb pressing deeply down onto your clit as you wail in pleasure before he’s quickly drawing figure-eight patterns along the bundle of nerves as he pistons in and out of you deliciously. Your walls begin to quiver with your oncoming end and knowing this, your boyfriend stares zealously at you to darkly command, “Come on, baby. Cum for me. Cream all over this cock that you love so much.”

 It takes one final slam of his hips into you to have his cock bury itself so deep inside your pussy that it perfectly presses against your g-spot while his fingers rapidly attend to your clit before your body instinctively heeds his order, spots erupting behind your eyelids as thousands of tiny, warm presses inside your sex signal your orgasm while you throw your head back, your eyes still locked on him as your mouth parts and you shriek his name out for the entire apartment complex to hear as your climax explodes with the intensity of a firecracker within you.

 He groans at that to utter, “That’s right, baby. Let everyone know who has fucked you so good. Tell them all who owns you.”

 Your walls flutter and spasm deliciously around him and your boyfriend grunts at the sensation, loving the way you wrap around him like your pussy was made for this and before he knows it, he’s throbbing and following behind you with his own release as he colors your walls with his creamy seed in violent, energetic bursts.

 “Mine. You’re mine,” he repeats over and over as you both ride out your orgasms.

 You wrap your arms tighter around him to give him a light peck along his jaw as you say, “Yes, Kookie. I’m all yours. I love you so much.”

 He catches his breath as you fondly wipe away the sweat that has collected in beads along his forehead while you tenderly tuck his fringe behind one ear before he earnestly tells you, “I love you more.”

 Sometime later he feeds you the stew he made for you as you moan in delight at the warm trickle of it down your throat while he spoons it to you from your place  on his lap. Your sounds of enjoyment had been quick to get him hard underneath you as you’d knowingly fidgeted in effort to drag your ass over his member that you found yourself longing for once again. Your antics had proven successful in the fervid way he’d eaten you out like a five course meal before you fed him the dessert of your sweet juices before he’d dragged you to the bedroom for round three. 

Hours after that find you both well into the night with the window open so that the moonlight can spill in on the two of you atop your shared bed. You are sure to remind him just how much you love him then when he wakes to find you grinding on top of him as you welcome him once more into your wet warmth that has only and will only ever belong to him.

[lov3nerdstuff]

Virtual Strangers {Part 2}

*Tom Hiddleston x reader*

Parts: 2/10

Words: 6.3k

Summary: When you first replied to a stray text message that was accidentally sent to you from an unknown number, you couldn't have known who the virtual stanger on the other end was, or would be. You couldn't have known that he was soon to become your very best friend and steady companion. You couldn't have known that you would fall for him quite as deeply as you did. You couldn't have known. After all, you had never even seen a glimpse of each other, nor heard the other's voice. You only ever conversed through text messages, even if you did so every day and every night. You couldn't have known that you would fall for a stranger, who you knew even better than yourself. Even if you did not know his name. Yet there is another question that remains unspoken: If you really are best friends and even live in the same city, why does he not want to meet you in person?

~virtual strangers to friends to lovers~

A.N.: What exactly are you getting from this story, you ask? An online friendship-turned-romance? Check. Flirting via texts? Check. Annoyed yet overly supportive publicist and friend Luke? Check. Literary references to classical literature and plays? Check. Bobby being adorable and a valid character in the story? Check. Just the right twinge of angst? Check. Humour? Check. Fluff? Check. Super long chapters because I just can't be bothered to keep it short? Hell yeah.

Find Part 1 here! All Parts can be found on my Masterlist!

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When you woke up to the blaring sound of your alarm, you couldn't help inwardly cursing yourself for always staying up so bloody late. When you grabbed your phone from the nightstand to turn the annoying sound off however, your barely open eyes fell upon the little icon telling you that you had received a new message, and your mind finally caught up again with the reason for your staying up late. The texts exchanged with T, the discussion about Shakespeare… The best conversation you'd had in forever. Blinking, you felt more awake in an instant as you sat up in your bed, rubbing your tired eyes before you finally opened the messaging app with a smile on your face.

T: 'I am very glad to have made your bad day a little bit better; that might just be my only true accomplishment of the day. Or the only one that matters, at least. Believe it or not, I was also not having the best night before I happened upon you, and I would be a fool to deny that our conversation has thoroughly turned my week around. I am very inclined to keep on talking, or rather writing to you, Y/n. After all, we haven't even started on the Sonnets yet ;) But for now, indeed, let that be goodnight.'

Your smile turned just a tad brighter while you read the message a second time, just to make sure your sleep fogged brain hadn't misinterpreted anything. But no, the meaning was still the same: T had enjoyed your conversation quite as much as you had, and he wasn't opposed to keeping on texting about sundry and the world. Well, about Shakespeare and literature. But that was what you had connected over after all, and the prospect of actually having someone to share your thoughts on the matter with was exciting enough to keep the smile on your face even as you crawled out of the comfort of your bed to get ready for the day.

It was only when you stuffed your laptop back into your work bag and put on your coat and shoes that the smile was slowly replaced by a frown. Would you come off as a creep if you texted back right away? As desperate or annoyingly clingy perhaps? Should you wait until tonight, or even worse, until another day before sending another message? Gods, those were questions people would usually ask themselves when it came to dating, not casual intellectual encounters with virtual strangers. But you couldn't help feeling torn about what to do, and that didn't change even in the slightest during your hasty commute to work. Hadn't T said he wasn't much of a texting person anyway? Just because he wanted to keep talking to you didn't automatically mean he would want to keep constantly talking to you, like you had done last night. But you really didn't want to wait half a week to say the exact same things you would much rather just say right away. So it was either suppressing the surprisingly strong impulse to talk to him now to be safe in terms of social standards, or to go for it and possibly upset him. Ugh… You didn't know what to do. Only five minutes prior to your seminar, you finally got a grip on yourself and decided to test the waters of the new day with something short and innocuous.

Y: 'I'm glad to hear that I made your evening a bit better as well! I hope you've still managed to reach out to the guy you originally meant to text nonetheless, by now. I'll just assume he didn't want to talk Sonnets with you then, seeing as that honour's been left to me ;) have a nice day!'

That was inconspicuous, yet prompting enough to allow a conversation to start into either direction, should T fancy to pick it up from here. This would have to do, for now. Right? Or should you make it clearer that you would enjoy his virtual company even on a more… constant basis? Geez, you were just being too much again. Like always. But you still felt somewhat proud of yourself for being clingy with your new acquaintance without sounding clingy, and in the contentment of that knowledge you slipped your phone into your bag for the time being and finally started your class.

… … …

Tom woke up to the seemingly incessant sound of his phone vibrating on his wooden nightstand, ringing harshly in his ears like a chainsaw in the process of demolishing his entire bedroom. A low growl started somewhere deep in his chest long before he was able to phrase any actual words of vain protest, and when thought became a possibility at last, he wondered who on earth would wake him up this bloody early. He usually was an early riser by nature, so if something or someone woke him up before his time, it logically had to be at a crazy hour still. Only that he'd made those calculations under the premise that he went to bed at a reasonable hour, and since last night had been anything but reasonable, the glimpse at the time he got when he unlocked his phone all but woke him up the remaining bit. Ten o'clock and counting… well, fuck.

With a groan he dropped his phone onto his bed and removed himself from the very piece of furniture simultaneously, hurrying first to the bathroom, then the wardrobe and finally down the stairs into the open hallway where Bobby was already waiting by the door with a reproachful glance up at his master.

"I know I know, I'm sorry!" Tom sighed defeatedly while he tried to somehow put on his shoes and clasp the leather leash onto his impatient companion's collar at once. Half a minute later they were out the door and on their way to the park, all as ever, only a good two hours later than was usual for off-work days. What a great start to the day… Tom scoffed quietly and shook his head to himself. At least Bobby seemed to have forgiven him for the delay as soon as they'd been outside, but his own mind was still on edge nevertheless. Did he have any meetings or tasks scheduled for today? No, nothing that he knew of. That was something, at least. He would have to check his phone that was still buried deeply somewhere under his sheets once he returned home nonetheless, in case Luke had called, but otherwise he would have the day off.

Speaking of his phone… now that he had the time to think about it, he wondered whether you had sent him a new message already, or if perhaps you weren't that kind of person at all. The kind who grew instantly and overly attached to the few select people who had managed to catch your interest, to the point of wanting to give them an infinite amount of attention and hoping for much the same in return. The kind he knew himself to be. Would you be like that as well? Or were you someone who texted casually with some dozen people at once, replying to some messages and to others not, always a couple of days in between? Tom found himself hoping for the former, but feared that it would rather end up being the latter.

Oh well… At least he wasn't so far gone in the haze of fame that he expected everyone and anyone to reply to him immediately all the time just because he supposedly was someone. No, he knew enough people who acted like that, and he never ceased to be repelled by such behaviour. For him, it was more of a deeply rooted wish to be thought of, to not be forgotten. To mean something to someone, not to be someone to others. So if you hadn't replied by the time he got home, he would force himself to accept that and adapt to your pace of conversation instead. He didn't know a thing about texting, after all�� Perhaps it would be a good thing to let you take the lead.

That in return gave him all the more reason to smile when he finally did check his phone upon his arrival at home, to find not one, but two new messages from you. (And he also found the inevitable text from Dave that there was no news on the script yet, but in the light of hearing from you again, Tom found himself almost alright with the lack of progress at the work front for once.) Thus smiling to himself, he now made his way into the kitchen for some much needed tea and breakfast, and finally opened the messaging app.

Y: 'I'm glad to hear that I made your evening a bit better as well! I hope you've still managed to reach out to the guy you originally meant to text nonetheless, by now. I'll just assume he didn't want to talk Sonnets with you then, seeing as that honour's been left to me ;) have a nice day!'

Tom let out a huff in amusement at the thought of talking Shakespeare with Dave… what a crazy idea. But he found it remarkable that you even cared about whether or not he had still gotten a hold of the right person after all. That, much like your first few replies last night, spoke of at least some kind of interest in his person beyond just his opinion on old tomes, right? Tom found himself oddly excited by that possibility, as if it was some kind of admirable achievement to be of interest to someone just by being his own silly self, not because he was who he was in public. He shook the thought out of his head for now and made himself go on to read the second message you had sent. That one was only from half an hour ago, and he instantly felt guilty for failing to reply to your first message sooner than that.

Y: 'I mean, we don't have to talk about Sonnets, if you'd rather not… Even though you suggested it yourself, so why wouldn't you want to talk about them, right…? Gah, I'm sorry, I'm just awkward when I'm not sure what to do. I really want to talk to you more, but I also really don't want to annoy you by sending you random messages like this one right here without being asked to or having any reason other than simply wanting to. You'd think someone close to a PhD would know how to handle that, but I realize that I just sound absolutely stupid at the moment, so I'll just shut up now. Sorry.'

While your text made Tom chuckle in amusement, he also couldn't deny that he'd had some of the very same thoughts on his walk with Bobby just before, and that hearing these concerns from you now was oddly relieving in return. Perhaps you were just like him after all… the kind of person who poured themselves into their choices way too quickly, and way too thoroughly. For common standards, at least. Before overthinking things again, he quickly went to type a reply at long last.

T: 'Good morning, Y/n. Or rather, almost good noon! I apologise for not replying any sooner, my morning turned out to be unexpectedly stressful. I really didn't mean to give you the impression that you were annoying me, not at all. On the contrary, I was having very much the same concerns about possibly bothering you if I just texted you out of every whim or fancy I have as you apparently did. People have been telling me for ages that I tend to be too much when I'm not careful to hold back, that intensity and depth of character aren't socially acceptable, that my interest and attention are perceived as exhausting and overwhelming. Perhaps some of the same things have been said to you before as well? I wouldn't know, and you certainly don't have to tell me if you don't want to. But perhaps we can settle this uncertainty on either end by saying that neither will annoy the other by being intense, or random, or truthfully ourselves. Isn't that why we ended up talking quite so deeply and passionately about literature last night in the first place, because neither of us can be like that elsewhere, with anyone else? Perhaps we can allow ourselves to be like that with each other. Would that be alright?'

When Tom read over his message another time before sending it, he realized that it had gotten both quite a bit longer and quite a bit more personal than intended. But it still felt just right like that, ridiculously right even to be himself and forward with his own thoughts for once, and changing anything about the message would only defy the meaning and purpose of everything he had just typed out in the first place. Being truthful without precautions. So he got over his insecurity and hit send in the same determination he had reasoned himself into last night already; with you, he would be himself. He would be T, and the prospect of that alone made him smile to himself yet again. This whole thing was only difficult if he made it to be. And for once, he wouldn't. In that knowledge he dropped his phone on the counter, and finally went to prepare an early lunch instead of breakfast. After all, he could have his tea with that as well.

… … …

You had just talked yourself out of your repeated pattern of reminding yourself that you had made a complete tart out of yourself with your messages to T, when finally your phone's noisy ping made both you and the professor whose office you shared jump out of your seats. The elderly man shot you a mean glare from across the room before returning to his work, while you however just released a low breath and set your phone on mute as quickly as possible. Thank the gods that your colleague had already condemned you anyway, right from the moment he'd been told you would be sharing his office, but that way you at least didn't have to worry about keeping up a reputation with him now.

Your train of thoughts came to a sudden halt when you finally opened the messaging app to read the message T had just sent, and with every word you took in your smile broadened and your day brightened in return. How could coincidences be crazy like that, to let you meet someone who was saying exactly what you were thinking? What were the odds that you would encounter the first and only person to have no problem with your truthful self at all, through a wrong bloody phone number?! It didn't matter… You just felt relieved, and excited about the prospect of being able to speak (or write) your mind whenever you felt like it now. Somehow, you had an inkling that you wouldn't just be talking about Shakespeare after all… Not when you obviously had quite a bit more in common than just your interest for literature. With the lingering smile on your face, you went to reply.

Y: 'That would be more than just alright, T. I'm very happy about this, you should see my stupidly excited face! I've never met someone who also has been told these things, to stop being passionate about matters and instead sit down quietly like a good girl (or boy, I guess). It's both relieving and sad to know that you have gone through that as well. We shouldn't have to hide like that… But I guess we can just let it all out on each other now ;) That sounds great, to be honest. And as far as a stressful morning goes, I do absolutely understand and I'm very much with you on that. I've had an hour-long debate with the printer and the WiFi, and then the bloody coffee maker died on me just out of solidarity with them. By now I believe technology has declared war on me today.'

This time around, it only took him roughly five minutes to answer you, and you had your phone on hand again in an instant.

T: 'I've heard numerous stories of both good people and good printers losing their fight to the unconquerable entity of the mighty WiFi. And your coffee maker sounds like an arse just for betraying you; perhaps try with tea next time, it is said to be a rather loyal companion in dark times.'

You let out an unintentional snort, unable to keep from grinning to yourself even as you felt a fair of eyes mustering you in annoyance from the other end of the room. Shaking your head to yourself, you let work be work and focused on texting back for now instead.

Y: 'You sound terribly British even for a Brit (which I will just assume you are), you know that? I bet you're having your baked beans and eggs on toast with your Earl Grey as a proper early luncheon right now. Probably reading the morning paper all the while?'

T: 'How did you know that? Am I that predictable to you already? ;)'

With the text, he had sent a picture of a wooden table set with precisely the foods and items you had previously described, all neatly arranged to make a rather pretty ensemble. Your lips parted in amusement, and you let out half of a laugh while you replied right away.

Y: 'I believe you’ve just made my day yet again, T… That's actually hilarious, impeccable timing, beautifully set and all. Should I better get used to odd coincidences when it comes to you?'

T: 'Actually, my life is usually rather void of unpredictable circumstances and thus severely lacking any coincidences. Must be entirely your doing, my dear.'

Y: 'There's always more than one party involved in coincidences, and that in return makes for the unpredictable circumstances ;) Haven't you learned about models of communication in whatever degree it is you have quite obviously studied?!'

T: 'I have a degree in classics, actually. Hardly any communication involved in that ;)'

Y: '...A classics degree literally is the study of old languages and cultures, T! I know that as well as you obviously do, seeing as I can spot your sarcasm from miles away right now, and probably also because I sit across the hall from the guys in our own classics department every day.'

T: 'You do?'

Y: 'Yes, well… Classics and English Lit are basically hallmates here at uni. I work for the literature department at one of the colleges while writing my dissertation. Gotta pay for the bloody thing after all, and somehow also stay on top of the bills. You'll already know that, but London really isn't the cheapest place to be living. At least I'm almost done with my doctorate.'

T: 'So that's why you have such an extensive knowledge about literature! I had a vague idea after last night that you might actually be an expert in the field after all ;) I assume you teach as well then, besides doing your research?'

Y: 'Yep… Just undergrad level classes though, which honestly aren't the greatest joy to go through. Usually, there are subzero chances to have a proper discussion about anything other than people's grades.'

T: 'Well, I will do my utmost to be an acceptable surrogate for that vacancy then :) I haven't studied literature in such a scientific regard for too long myself, but I believe we made do with my own, different perspective just fine yesterday.'

Y: 'You aren't just any surrogate, T! If I wanted to hear a scientific opinion I could go two doors down the hall from where I sit and bore myself to death with my colleagues who have read roughly the same texts I have. It would be clinical and technical and without any passion, and more about the work for work's sake than about the subject for its own value. I believe you know what I mean. So you will also have to believe me that I appreciate your specific take and perception way more than any other, scientific or not. On my end we're equals: either both experts, or both idiots. That's your choice ;)'

T: 'I think we have sufficiently proven by now that we can be both at once, and that is something I find rather brilliant. It's a quality I see far too rarely in people. Being an adult these days means being expected to be intelligent, competent and polite in a variety of settings, but for a great deal of people that translates to being restrained, shallow and passionless, or straight out boring in all regards of life. There's nothing wrong with being silly sometimes, or with taking chances just because they might end up being worth it.'

Y: 'Chances like replying to a stray text from a stranger out of an impulse, only to end up finding out that you have more in common with them than with any of your other acquaintances?'

T: 'Yes, that makes for a perfect example ;) And just out of curiosity, do you have many acquaintances to keep up with? I need to know how much of your time I may monopolise, after all ;)'

Y: 'Very funny, T… And no, I don't, actually. I have a few colleagues I sometimes (rarely) tag along with when invited, but otherwise I am best acquainted with my work. It's a vicious circle, really… I work too much because I don't have any friends, and I have no friends because I work too much. So do feel free to monopolise as much of my time as you fancy, it will be most appreciated. How about you?'

T: 'Much the same for me, I'm afraid. I usually am rather busy with work, there's no telling around it… But I do tend to push it to the limits as well, simply because I have little else to do. My acquaintances are usually colleagues in one way or another, and even though I do have a couple hundred of those, I would consider very few of them my friends.'

Before you could reply that you knew the feeling, or wonder how someone could have a couple hundred acquaintances, he sent a second message right after to follow up the first.

T: 'There is someone very special in my life though; my darling and best friend, the reason I get up in the morning and the cause of my delight and despair at once. Someone you will inevitably have to share me with, because he tries incessantly and as hard as he can to monopolise my time indeed.'

You frowned to yourself at the text, feeling both confused and desperately curious just by the way he had phrased that statement. But most of all you found yourself surprised by the fact that you hadn't even considered if T was in a relationship or not. Perhaps even married, with a kid or two! Who knew, after all… And obviously, that special someone in his life was a he as well. Not that you minded in the least, but you still felt like you had missed a crucial detail to see the whole picture, because somehow it didn't make sense. Nibbling on your bottom lip, you decided to just go for it and ask.

Y: 'So… you're gay? Or you have a flatmate you're very fond of? Living with a brother, or a son, perhaps?'

T: 'No, yes, and not quite ;)'

With that text and before you could further wonder about its crypticism, he sent you a picture of a dark brown Cocker Spaniel who looked up into the camera with curious eyes while lolling around the leg of the same wooden table you'd seen in the picture before. You instantly started smiling down at your phone with heart eyes, and couldn't help the 'aww' on your lips even though you still weren't alone in the office. You didn't even care as you kept on smiling at the picture; what a cutie!

T: 'This is him, the best friend I have ;) But I think he wouldn't be opposed to some competition from you when it comes to monopolising my time.'

You let out a snort, then shook your head to yourself. So T had a dog… and he wasn't gay. You could work with that information; it fit the puzzle a whole lot better than the other options you had briefly considered.

Y: 'Aahh he is adorable! I have a great fondness for dogs, if they are friendly to me as well :) What's his name? Or can you not tell me that either?'

T: 'Well, if I'm T, then he's B. Can you live with that without being too disappointed by my continuing secrecy?'

Y: 'It's alright… He's adorable after all, so I'll let it slip for his sake ;) Tell B my sincerest thanks, then, for allowing me to steal some of your time from him.'

T: 'Will do. His preferred method of payment is either doggy treats or belly rubs, both to be supplied in sufficient amounts of course. I will compensate him in your stead, if you fancy.'

Y: 'Very much so, I would hate for your best friend to be cross with me after all. And I'm used to having to pay for attention and affection, so that is quite alright.'

The moment you hit send, you realized how terribly wrong what you had written might sound to some minds, and you quickly sent a second message with a roll of your eyes directed at yourself, while the inevitable heat crept up your neck in an instant.

Y: 'Obviously I didn't mean LITERALLY paying for affection, in the way some certain people do, in some certain places… That all came out so wrong, oh god. Aaaaand I'm positively mortified.'

T: 'Please don't be, dear. I didn't believe you were implying anything like that, don't worry ;) But what exactly are you trying to say?'

Y: 'Well, I just meant that it isn't news to me that I have to compensate people somehow for the attention and kindness they show me. Like… When an acquaintance sits with me during lunch, I do some of their work for them later. When they have a longer chat with me at the pub, I pay for their drinks. When they invite me along to go out, I watch over their stuff while they dance. Things like that. You know, the usual. But I was just joking when applying it to B just now, I trust him not to make me pay for you being nice to me.'

T: 'Hold on, I'm confused… Do you really do all these things, and do you do them because you want to be kind, or because you think they are expected of you?'

Y: 'What an odd question… in an interesting way, I mean. Yes, I really do those things for the few acquaintances I have. But let's start with the first part: Of course I want to be kind, and I try to be whenever I can. I think it is important to repay kindness with kindness, because you want to preserve it. Like watering a plant instead of plucking its flowers. Now for the second part: I know for a fact that these things are expected of me. Whenever an acquaintance of mine spends some time with me outside of the mandatory work talk, I will find some of their work to be done on my desk later, or they will hand me the bill at the end of the evening, or I'm told to watch over their things because I don't dance anyway (even though I do dance… They just never asked me to.) So really, kindness has nothing much to do with it, it's just a simple trade. Don't you do that with your acquaintances as well?'

T: 'Working from the bottom up: No, I don't. Usually I know even the most rudimentary acquaintanceships to work based on kindness and mutual interest or respect for each other rather than paid trading. I'm terribly sorry that you had to go through such trades to get someone to spend time with you; I can only hope to assure you that it had nothing to do with you as a person. You are absolutely lovely just as you are, and I can indeed say that because as little as I might yet know about you, I still am getting a pretty good idea of WHO YOU ARE just by having talked to you for a few hours now. And I think they make you pay for their time and attention, simply because you let them. You are kind, and willing to be kind to them to a degree they clearly don't deserve. I'm admittedly not a fan of Freud and his theories (should you be familiar, which I am very sure you are, you will know why), but I think he might've been onto something when he said that the average person will take advantage of their neighbours if given the chance to justify it to themselves. And your willingness to trade kindness for their time and attention obviously was a good enough justification for them to make it a trade. I assume that this isn't what you originally meant when you said to repay kindness with kindness though, is it?'

Y: 'Not really, no. But I do think you're right about my acquaintances, and why they do what they do… They likely don't deserve my kindness, and I certainly shouldn't trade it for their attention. It has just become a habit by now, one I was only vaguely aware of until I just put it into words for you. I guess I better shall try to break with it, if you can already spot it after a few minutes of hearing me babble. But then again, I also think that being kind to someone who doesn't deserve or warrant your kindness at all is the greatest act of strength a person can deliver. Though I have to admit that while sometimes I'm strong by that definition, other times I'm clearly not. In that sense I both admire and pity those poor people who live a public life, like politicians, celebrities, athletes and so on. They have no choice but to either be incessantly kind to everyone all the time, or to be shunned by the world for being human like the rest of us.'

T: 'You would be surprised by how many famous people are kind simply and only because it is expected of them, and only while they are standing in front of the cameras and audiences. But even those who seem honestly kind and caring by nature reach a point where it's all nothing more than smoke and mirrors, no matter how much they would want to be sincere in it. In a way, they also pay for attention with kindness, now that I think about it. A habit as well. It's kind of disappointing, isn't it? To be disillusioned like that.'

Y: 'Why would it be? Not even the kindest person on earth could possibly be kind to everyone all the time, and they shouldn't be either.'

T: 'What makes you think that?'

Y: 'If you are trying to always be kind to everyone, you ultimately forget to be kind to the most important person of them all, namely yourself. Being kind means giving, and even if occasionally you are given a little kindness in return, you can only keep on giving for so long without running empty. Sometimes the best thing you can do is to be kind to yourself, and to protect yourself by not giving all you have. To not let yourself run empty.'

T: 'But what if you gain more from the act of giving than what you lost through it in the first place?'

Y: 'But is it still kindness then that makes you give, or isn't it much rather love?'

T: 'That… is an incredibly fascinating thought. So much so that I don't quite know what to say. I agree, I assume… I know I do, for I know that I want to. Perhaps kindness IS a way of loving, in the end, or at least they come together in their selflessness.'

Y: 'In Blake's words, your argument stands… ›Love seeketh not itself to please, / Nor for itself hath any care, / But for another gives its ease, / And builds a Heaven in Hell's despair.‹ … and in Blake's words, your argument falls. ›Love seeketh only self to please, / To bind another to its delight, / Joys in another's loss of ease, / And builds a Hell in Heaven's despite.‹'

T: 'Yet, isn't that quite the ambivalence we have been talking about this entire time? An impossible balance of two sides that are still of the one same essence. The same thing, changed to opposites by disposition… One is bred of innocence, one of experience; both important themes for Blake, as you probably know. He applies it to love right here, but we might just say the same thing for kindness. Innocence, to be taken as selflessness, is which makes of kindness the act of strength; its goal only to be found in itself. Experience, therefore to be taken as selfishness, makes of kindness a tool to achieve one's end through bargain or deceit. The difference lies not in the outcome for the other, but in the strength it takes to stay innocent in the self.'

Y: 'Now YOU are the one who renders me speechless, T… That is an incredibly clever line of argumentation! And you even backed up my previous argument with it, so thank you for that ;)'

T: '...I did? How so?'

Y: 'Hehe… You thought it disappointing and disillusioning that people (regardless of who they are) eventually cease to be kind out of sincerity, and go over to pretense. But your entire line of argument just proved that it's a deeply human flaw, and one of circumstance rather than of character: if your strength runs out, you lose your innocence, and you thereby lose the sincerity in your kindness. And if you scroll back up a bit, you will find my elaboration on running empty eventually if you give too much of your kindness to others without getting enough back. Equal up kindness and strength, and you have just proven my argument ;)'

T: 'Oh dear… I didn't even notice I had come around to your side. You are too clever for me, Y/n.'

Y: '...says the guy who used Blake's thematic categories to build a flawless line of argumentation while I merely stated my opinion…'

T: 'You started with Blake.'

Y: 'I only quoted Blake, you started with the interpretation of his themes. Now stop talking yourself out of this and accept that you are really quite brilliant, T! You can't hide that from me, you know ;)'

T: 'Ehehe… Coming from you, I will take that as a sincere compliment. Thank you.'

Y: 'Of course it's a sincere compliment, you nut! I'm not spilling my life's flaws in detail to you only to then lie to you in empty phrases. Besides, I could be way more creative than that if I intended to be insincere.'

T: 'I have no doubt about that. And I have no doubt about your sincerity either, which is a most welcome change for me. It's never that easy, especially not with the job I do. Speaking of work, I'm not keeping you from yours, right? I am having a rare day off for once, as you might have guessed from the luncheon, and that has rather led me to forget that you actually might still have to attend to your work nonetheless.'

Y: 'It's perfectly fine, I'm in no hurry to be doing anything specific today, I'm weeks ahead of what I ought to do… That's the advantage of doing little besides working all day, every day. You get quite far ahead. Besides, even if I end up being busy at times, feel free to talk to me nonetheless if you feel like it. I'll reply when I can ;)'

T: 'I will remember that and most likely make use of it before I can help myself :) Please, feel free and welcome to do the same. (Just don't be surprised, I am sometimes kept busy and without a cellphone for many hours on end. It comes with the job, which can be both a curse and blessing.) Do you have classes to give today?'

Y: 'Yeah, I had one at eight and will have another at two.'

T: 'Two in the afternoon? Today…?'

Y: 'Yes?'

T: 'I don't mean to impose, but that's in five minutes. Have you lost track of time? (I really can't blame you; I can't quite believe that it's already gotten so late myself.)'

Y: 'Ahh fuck, no no no… Alright, I got to go. Run, actually. I'll talk to you later! Go give B some attention ;)'

T: 'Will do. He will be delighted to go for another stroll in the rain, I'm sure. You enjoy your class, and if I don't drown in the meantime, I will talk to you later indeed.'

______________________________

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[bibbykins]

Rocking Chairs and Rocking Cars

A/N: No full blown smut here, but ofc horny thoughts remain! I should be posting the aftermath texts and what not soon, but I hope you enjoy this in the mean time! It’s a bit rushed, but I hope that doesn’t ruin the experience for you! As always, tips are appreciated since I am saving up to buy a house with my gf, but ofc tips are not required! Hope you all have a great day/night!

Note: This is a drabble for The Household’s Bunny Series

Pairing: Soft Yandere! Jungkook x Chubby! Reader x Soft Yandere! Hoseok

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: 18+, crying, lonliness, body image issues, unhealthy workout habits, abandonment, allusions to body dysmorphia, mommy issues, grinding, lustful thoughts, mentions of cumming, mentions of erections, pussy cupping (?), not rlly yandere although this is kinda a soft yandere series, obsessive behaviors, low self esteem, horrible communication, mentions of anxiety, mentions of car shaking

The house was quiet, and somehow knowing that no one else was home made your floor feel that much more empty. Granted, none of the guys came up all that often. Ever the gentlemen, they actively tried not to intrude on your space. Although, you really wish they did on days like these. It was 10am on a Saturday morning, although the lack of natural light could fool anyone otherwise. The clouds were heavy in the sky, cradling the sunlight in a thick blanket of grey, squeezing themselves for all the water they have. The rain tapped on your window, almost mocking you, reminding you that water was the only company you had.

You debated texting to ask if anyone wanted to come home and have a movie night, or build a fort, or just simply sit next to you, but decided you would just be bothering them. You had that very intimate moment with Jin and Yoongi, and they had remained sweet with you, but you weren’t able to be intimate with them again yet. They had been busy and you had been deprived of the very addicting affection. You’re sure they would come to you if asked, but you didn’t want to be clingy. The last thing you wanted to do was annoy them by following them around like a puppy just because they made you cum. They hadn’t explicitly stated they liked you as anything more than a friend, and you never wanted to go through the embarrassment of assuming such a thing again.

With college almost done, you had nothing to distract you from the looming loneliness you feel sometimes, and it was exhausting. You grew up by yourself, and you swore that would change when you were older. You were determined to be surrounded by people who loved you as much as you loved them, and yet, here you were. You were laying on a couch, watching the rain fall, all by yourself in a 10 floor renovated motel, reaping the consequences of high hopes and naivety your child self didn’t understand. You were never good at making friends, not that your plump figure helped you with your social drawbacks either. Although you made peace with your lack of charisma in person and have made strides to loving your body, the loneliness never subsided for long. 

There were few things you loved more than talking to people and having them listen to you and vice versa, and yet it rarely happened. Maybe you had been spoiled by your seven housemates, so it was making this bout of loneliness that much worse. Since moving in, there was almost always someone home making noise or even talking to you. However, they all told you summer was their busy season, and boy, they weren’t kidding. You had caught mere glimpses of the boys this week, only communicating via text and post it notes. 

You pressed your eyes closed for a moment as you listened to the rain. You thought of your mom. Her cheeks were chubby like yours and you remember her crying when she figured your metabolism was the same as hers, and you couldn’t understand why she hated herself so much that she wanted you to be nothing like her. Your mother had always been beautiful in your opinion, and it was a shame she never saw herself, or you, in that way. You thought about forcing yourself to go to the gym with her for hours on end, just to be able to be next to her. You had always been desperate for her company, desperate to be liked by her. Part of you regrets putting your body through that, but then a part of you is happy you were able to spend time with her until she left. 

Ah, yes, the day she left. That’s exactly what you should be thinking about right now, on a rainy day, all by yourself. You cringed when you felt a tear get a little too close to your ear, wiping it away. You were shocked when you felt even more in its wake. You always felt really silly when you cried, but you figured you might as well let it happen if you're gonna be home alone on a rainy day, thinking of all the ways people avoided spending time with you while you tried even harder to spend time with them. Who's next? Jungyoon? The uncle who took you in just to admit drunkenly how much the sight of you upsets him three hours into your 17th birthday. Your dad? No. That's not wise.

You sighed. Maybe if you had learned better social cues when you were younger, you wouldn't be a college graduate with no friends to talk to.

It didn't take long for you to break into full on sobs. You stuck somewhere between angry at the people who didn't want to be with you and sad that they didn't want to. Childishly, you deemed it wasn't fair and all you could do was cry. You hadn't had a day like this in a while, but holy shit did it suck each time.

Eventually, you ceased your tears and were left a red and puffy mess, so you decided to go to the kitchen to depuff your face with some ice. Then the rest of your day could only go up from here. You had your cry, and even though the elevator was going down, your day would only go-

OH NO WHY IS IT STOPPING AT FLOOR 5?!

You couldn't even think of who it could be as you looked in the mirror at the corner of the elevator and wished to evaporate. You had obviously been crying, terribly. Nevermind you were in a cropped long sleeve, short shorts, and thigh highs, your eyes were red and a little puffy, your cheeks were clearly tear stained, and even your lips were swollen. You couldn't, "oh, it's allergies." Your way out of this one.

"I didn't know you were home, Hobi." You murmured.

"Yeah, I just popped in real quick to grab something before I go back to…" Hoseok's smile dropped the instant he saw your face. You didn't even have the chance to look away, but you tried to anyway. He gently gripped your chin, guiding your eyes to meet his, "Bunny, is everything okay?" 

You pressed your lips together before nodding, "Yeah, it's just…" You glanced at his face, surprised to see him clinging onto your every word, "Sometimes, I get lonely." You shrugged as his eyes widened, "I get to thinking about my mom and…" You made vague hand movements as you shrugged.

He thought for a moment, “Even though we all kind of grew up together, we never really treated each other like more than roommates, but you’re here now.” He pulled you into a tight hug and you gasped before relaxing into his embrace. You closed your eyes for a moment as you held him close to you, "We've all been really busy, I didn't even consider how lonely you would feel." He lamented and you shook your head.

"I'm a big girl, I can be alone." Your words were muffled in his shirt, "It's just a little crying-"

"But you don't have to be alone anymore, and I don't want you to cry, none of us do." He placed a chaste kiss on your forehead, "Thinking about my mom used to really ruin my day, doesn't now, so don't worry, but that took time." You nodded, feeling tears creep in again.

"Thank you." You hummed as he pulled back, "Sorry to-"

He shushed you, putting his finger on your lips, shaking his head at your apology.He leaned his forehead on yours, making your breath hitch, "Do you want to go with me?"  He asked softly.

You blinked in confusion, "With you, where?"

His grin only widened and you looked to him skeptically, “Do you trust me?” He asked all too innocently and you nodded, “Then, do you want to go with me?” He asked again as he placed purple-tinted sunglasses on his face.

“I suppose…” You studied his smug face, “Let me go change-” You went to press the next floor so you could get off but were stopped with a soft grip from Hoseok.

“I’m in a bit of a rush, and you look great.” He smiled as the elevator reached the entrance.

You wanted to protest, but you let it be. Surely you would not stick out in the slightly scandalous outfit you were in.Truthfully, it was your body that seemed to make it scandalous to other people. Although, if you had a skirt on, it would just be a typical outfit for you, so maybe it wasn’t so weird? These thoughts ran through your mind as you slipped on some shoes and went into Hoseok’s very nice car. 

So are you gonna tell me where we’re going or…?” You asked as the renowned hair stylist drove with a smirk in response to your question, “Okay Mr. Mysterious, can I ask questions about it until we get there?” You asked cheekily.

He chuckled, “Of course, you can do whatever you want, baby.” His voice was silky smooth and the nickname shot straight to your nether regions and you scolded yourself for it.

“Are we going to a job of yours or am I just running errands with you?” You looked at his unwavering smile as you asked.

“A job, but the client will not mind if you’re there, before you ask.” He stole your next question by answering it smugly. You pursed your lips as you studied him. He was in a lavender dress shirt with the top two buttons undone and sleek navy blue slacks, all of which complimented his black hair. 

You, on the other hand, wore a baby pink turtleneck with the hem ending just barely above your matching form-fitting high-waisted fabric shorts, showing just a sliver of your stomach skin while a lot of your thigh skin was on display with white over-the knee socks. You had taken scandalous photos for your OnlyFans, and if you lifted your arms all the way up, a lacy bralette would greet the outside world. You were just feeling a bit self conscious considering the well dressed man in the car next to you. Sure, you looked cute, but was this level cute appropriate for his job? You didn’t want to make a bad impression and have that effect Hoseok.

“And here we are.” He sang and you snapped back to reality as he parked behind a building that had no defining qualities from the back. The ride went by in a flash and you pouted a bit at not even asking another question.

Ever the gentleman, he opened the door for you as he led you inside with him. The hallways were crowded with people running around like chickens with their heads cut off. Judging by the bits of chatter you could pick up as you scurried behind Hoseok, this was a photography studio and a high-level star was having a photoshoot.

“Oh thank goodness you’re here!” A man that seemed to be in his late 30s sighed in relief when he saw Hoseok, “He is in the worst mood today, and I’m so frightened-who is that?” The man’s wild eyes fixated on you for the briefest of moments and he realized your puffy features and shook his head, “Whatever, just go in there and calm him-”

“This is our housemate, y/n, and the shoot isn’t for another 30 minutes and he just needs hair, right?” Hoseok spoke calmly in spite of the chaos surrounding the both of you as the man nodded, “Great, I just need to touch him up and we’ll calm him down in time to take some good photos.” The man nodded tiredly, “Is the dressing room empty now?”

“Yeah, he kicked everyone out so he could calm down, but that never works.” The man cried out helplessly, “Why is he so frightening?!” Hoseok simply patted the man before navigating the hallways. Frightening? The man shivering looked quite burly and tall, who could be scaring him so much?

The “we’ll” made you nervous, but you held Hoseok’s hand so you wouldn’t get lost until he pushed through a dressing room door, “Hobi’s here.” He chimed and you heard a man behind a partition grunt. You looked around the spacious room to see a comfy looking green L couch along with a wooden rocking chair, which you thought was interesting. Beyond that, there was the typically lavish amount of mirrors and counter space, “I also brought a surprise!” Hoseok sang and you were ripped from your observations.

“It better not be anything dumb-” Jungkook’s voice died on the impact that was emerging from the partition and seeing you. Hise eyes studied your body, namely the slight squish of skin between your socks and shorts, which made his pants feel a bit tight, “Y/n, what…”His voice trailed off when he noticed you had definitely been crying, and not long ago. Right as he was going to accuse Hoseok, he saw you let go of his hand and give him a smile, figuring it wasn’t him that made you upset.

Your eyes brightened when you saw a familiar face, “Oh hi, Kook!” You beamed, “I didn’t realize Hoseok was taking me with him to see you, how nice!” You cheered, “I’ll be out of your way while you work, though!” You went to go sit on the couch as Jungkook nodded, robotically making his way to the chair in front of the mirror. He wore a silky black shirt with a harness around his waist and black slacks with razor thin pinstripes and black dress shoes. His hair was styled mostly to perfection, making you wonder what more there was to do. Alas, you weren’t the professional.

Hoseok looked to the younger man with a smug smile, “Just some last touches need to be done and then you can calm your nerves a bit with our little bunny.” He chided and Jungkook scoffed.

It took no more than five minutes for Hoseok to style the star’s hair into further perfection, “Wow, you look super handsome, Kook!” You cheered, earning a small smile from the man in question.

Hoseo chuckled, “He does indeed.” He cooed, making the younger man scowl, “Now, you have some time to zen out with bunny, use it wisely. I’ll come get you when it’s time.” He patted Jungkook before giving you a wink and exiting the room.

“You having a bad day-”

‘Were you crying?” His voice sliced through yours and you’re taken aback for a moment. With no response, he stood, making his way over to you. He towered over you before leaning down to grip your chin lightly, “Were you?” A hint of worry flashes across his eyes, and you wondered if you were just seeing things.

“Yeah… I was just feeling lonely.” You speak honestly, shrugging, “It’s not a big deal-”

“Why didn’t you call me-or anyone?” He asked, voice rushed as his eyes searched your face for an answer. It’s like an interrogation that you don’t have comprehensive answers for, so you shrug.

“Everyone was busy.” You murmur, “I only cried because I thought about my mom and stuff, it’s okay.” You avoided eye contact with him as you said this, feeling out of your element talking about your mom. This made his mouth part, but he haid no words. He understood what you meant, and that made it all the more harder to comfort you.

Jungkook sighed at how you’ve shrunk under his barrage of questions and sinks down to his knees, his hands going to your waist, stroking the sliver of exposed skin, “Nobody was mean to you, right? You didn’t cry because anyone bothered you?” You smiled at his tenderness before nodding.

You watched his face, studying the cleverly concealed dark circles under his eyes and gave him a sad smile, “Are you having a bad day too, Kook?” You asked softly and he sighed, like he was letting himself relax for the first time before nodding, “I see..” You thought for a moment, unsure how to make him feel better until you remembered, “Did you want to touch my thighs?” You said the first thing that came to mind and before you could be embarrassed, he nodded, "Okay, how do you want me?"

What a question, Jungkook thought, smiling tiredly, "Sit in my lap?" He looked up at you hopefully and you nodded.

"I won't be too heavy or anyth-woah!" You gasped when he lifted you, legs wrapping around his waist as he carried you to the rocking chair, sitting you both down, "I stand corrected." You giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck while his hands placed themselves on your thighs.

He closed his eyes for a moment, feeling your thighs in his hands, rocking you both back and forth. In every dressing room, he required a rocking chair, in case he needed to calm down. He debuted at the ripe age of 15 and with no guardian until 17, he was prone to panic attacks. The company sent him to therapy and the rocking chair was introduced. He never let anyone touch the chair, but he couldn't deny how nice it was having you in his arms, cradling his head into your bosom. 

“I like the rocking chair, very calming.” You mused, as if reading his mind and he offered a tired hum in agreement.

The day had truly been terrible. Stage after stage, minimal hours of sleep, and stupid people asking the same stupid question. And yet, here you were, hands stroking the skin on his neck as he lost himself in your form. Your thighs were softer than he anticipated, and he felt himself let out an exhausted sigh, finally relaxing into you.

"You haven't been home a lot, so I get why you're so stressed." You mused into his hair, "But you should go a bit easy on the staff, I just saw a buff thirty-something year old near tears when we came in." You giggled and Jungkook couldn't help but laugh a bit.

"Sungmin is my manager, he can take it." He felt blissful for the first time in a while as he rocked you both back and forth, his thumbs stroking the supple skin of your thighs.

"Still, maybe if people aren't so stressed around you, it might ease your stress." You chided softly, pressing a chaste kiss to his head.

The affection made his eyes flutter closed and he hummed, "We'll see, but don't hold your breath." He joked.

You had never felt Jungkook so calm before. Usually he has something snarky or detached to say. Some kind of non committal or indifferent comment, but he was too exhausted to do even that. You smiled softly at the cozyoment and the affection. It was hard to realize how touch starved you were, dreading when you would have to get up.

Youboth rocked back and forth for an indeterminate amount of time, too wrapped up in the calmness of each other’s presence to say much at all.

Finally, you spoke up a bit, "This is making me feel better. I like the closeness a lot." You hummed softly, "I remember when I was in some club in highschool, we were taking photos with girls on the guys's backs and all the guys scrambled to not have to give me a piggyback ride, so I just stood on my own." You did a short laugh. Jungkook fumed at the idea of stupid people making you feel like anything less than perfect, but you continued, "And now I'm in the lap of a pop star, it's a little funny." Now he felt smug, giving your thigh a small squeeze.

"Sounds like you had some weak ass guys in your highschool club." He snorted, leaning his head up as you settled down onto his lap further, now looking eye to eye with your torsos farther apart, his feet planted firmly on the floor to keep the rocking chair still, "I'll deny I was ever this nice, but," He studies your face for a moment, "You're so beautiful." He sighs out and he watched your face light up, and feels what that does to him, scaring the fuck out of him.

You couldn't find words except, "Can I kiss you?" You breathe and he nods with hooded eyes, and before you knew it, you were surging forward to press his mouth to yours. The kiss was fierce, but he responded to it at the speed of light. His mouth moved in sync with yours before taking control of the kiss, moving closer as he stilled the chair. Your hands were shyly clutching his shoulders, careful not to mess up his hair. One hand traveled to your hip as the other massaged your thigh deeply, thumb inching its way to the inner part. Your tongues intertwine and you gasp needily when he's a mere centimeter from where you want him most. You damn near whine when his hand stops inching closer to your core making him grunt.

Jungkook nearly lost his mind when he feels your nails dig into his shoulder and your hips wiggle in the slightest. He wanted to tell you to just mess up his hair, fuck everything else, and just let him make you cum in his lap. He wants to feel what he’s doing to you, uninhibited. His hand cups your sex and you groan into his mouth. He smirks at how warm it is, how wet you must be from a little bit of kissing, and how wet you will-

KNOCK, KNOCK

You jump, effectively falling off of the chair, and onto the floor just as Hoseok walks in, "Hey Jungkookie, it is time to- Bunny?!" Before Jungkook can even reach out his hand, the older man is helping you up.

"I'm alright, just clumsy." You chuckle awkwardly, before turning to the celebrity, thanking the stars his makeup and hair aren't messed up, "Well, have a good photoshoot!" You beamed, "Let's go get some lunch, Hobi." You spoke rushedly as you took the man's hand, dragging him along.

"Oh, uh, bye!" Hoseok hollers to the dumbfounded Jungkook as he watched the dressing room door close, leaving him winded with a boner.

When you get in the car, your eyes are like saucers and Hoseok can't help his curiousity as he turns on the car. However he doesn’t push until you both are a little closer to home, but before he can even ask you grab his leg and stare at him with panicked eyes, "Fuckfuckfuckfuckwhatthefuckdid- AHHH!" You let out the quietest scream, before looking at him, "How do I go about life this stupid?" You seem to be genuinely asking and yet again, before he can ask, "I kissed Kook and I let him hold my pussy for a moment." You blurt out and Hoseok blinks for a moment. You look to him, waiting for him to freak out but he just shrugs.

"Well color me a bit envious." He muses, before tilting his head in confusion, “When you say he held you pussy-"

“He cupped it and I was gonna let him go further had you not walked in.” You looked to the man as he saw home in sight.

“Ah, I see.” He nods thoughtfully, “So were we wanting to pick something up for lunch or just order delivery, we could cook…?”  

You gaped at him, "Are you not gonna tell me how dumb that was?!" Hoseok shakes his head, "He probably hates me now!" You whined.

Hoseok sighs, "I promise, he doesn't." He reassured you, "Did he… kiss back?" He asks curiously.

"Yes, but I'm not sure what he meant by it." You murmured, "I’m really bad at gathering those kinds of clues. I kissed him because he called me beautiful and I didn't know how to respond and I-"

"You're beautiful." Hoseok interjects, "My turn, my turn!" He parks the car at the house, turning to you with a grin.

"Wait, that's it!" You point to him, "You can tell me what kind of kiss that was." You beamed and he looked at you quizzically, "So kiss me and I'll show you how Kook kissed back so I can understand!" 

Hoseok could not believe his ears. Had people played with your head before? Did you seriously not understand that kissing back meant that they were attracted to you, at the very least. Not wanting to take advantage of you he asked, "Are you sure? You can just describe it to me-"

You nodded, "I don’t want to misrepresent it with my words but I need to know what it meant, but if you feel weird about kissing me I get it-"

Hoseok was watching the chance slip away, so he pressed forward, placing his mouth on yours and groaned when you responded with a force, hand going to his thigh to try and mimic Jungkook's movement. Your tongue finds his way into your mouth and he can’t resist the opportunity to feel your tongue against his. His hand goes to the back of your neck to press his mouth into yours deeper. It was in no time you both forgot what you should be doing.

All you could focus on was how good the affection felt. How nice it was to have someone’s mouth on yours just as needily. You were used to sex and affection being out of convience. You were used to people seeing you willing and figuring, “Why not?” But Hoseok and Jungkook had kissed you with a certain force you had never known. Where Yoongi and JIn were soft, sweet,and comforting, they were urgent, needy, but rough.

Hoseok’s arms wrap around you, bring you into his lap and you feel his growing length beneath you. Against better judgement, you grind down, causing the both of you to gasp, “Fuck, baby.” He groans, gripping you to him harder. His leans down to kiss your jaw and reach your neck, making you press yourself further onto him with a choked moan when you feel him guide you hips as you set a steady pace grinding into him. You groan at the sensuality of hearing his voice riddled with lust and making the windows steamy and the expensive car rock.

“Hobi,” You moan out as he sucks a particular spot on your neck, “Feels good.” You whined, grinding yourself more desperately.

“It does, bunny?” He cooed into your neck, trying to shield his own rising arousal as you  grind onto it desperately. You nodded with a moan and found yourself wishing he would just strip you of your clothes and take you. You would love nothing more than to feel his hands around your neck as he pounded into you, your hips working as wildly as they were then with his hands on them, threatening to limit you, edging you closer, and closer, and-

HONK

You both jumped, not able to go far in the driver’s seat on top of Hoseok after accidentally honking his car horn. You take a moment to look at the position your in and clasp your hand over your mouth, "I did it again!" You whined, muffled by your palm, "What's wrong with me, I get I'm horny but AH!" You groaned from frustration, both sexually and emotionally. 

"Calm down, it's better than okay." The man beneath you strokes your hip soothingly, "I enjoyed it, and if Kook did any of that, he did too." He reassures you, "It's just some consensual kissing, we're all adults, it's okay."

You frown, "But you guys don't need me throwing myself onto you, that's not fair to you." It’s made people recoil from you, you want to say. You don’t want them to recoil from you, you couldn’t take it.

"Arguably, I do need you, in particular, throwing yourself onto me." Hoseok quipped and you rolled your eyes.

"Ha, Ha, very funny, but come on." You deadpan and it only makes him more confused. You don't know how to explain that the odds of a guy like him, or any of them, wanting you, specifically, and not just wanting affection are slim to none in your eyes, judging from past experience alone.

"What?" He asks and you shake your head.

"Ah, forget it." You shrug, "Nothing to fuss about, but sorry I nearly came in your lap-"

"Please do not apologize for something I wanted, almost happening." He groaned and you chuckled, shaking your head, genuinely not believing him, “In fact, I invite you to please hop back on.” He chuckled a bit, so you figured it was a joke. Surely he would be joking about wanting you sexually. 

"You're a funny guy, Hobi." You open the door and hop out, "Well I'm gonna go masturbate or something, and then maybe we can regroup for some lunch when I'm done?" You glance up at the flabbergasted man who nods numbly, too perplexed to even offer his services, "Okay, well thank you for the kiss and what not, the affection is always welcome!" You chirped, "I can give you kisses on the lips more often if you want like I do with Jin and Yoongi?" He nods again and you smile. You give him a chaste kiss on the lips before heading inside.

Hoseok blew out a breath as he sat in his car with a hard on. So the issue wasn't you not being attracted to them. The issue was you not believing they would be attracted to you. Somehow, that was harder for him to dissect, unsure how to prove that he would give you the world if you just mentioned an interest in having it. Not just him, but six other men. To you, kissing or sexual acts wasn't proof that he was attracted to you for being you instead of just another body. They all had to somehow prove you weren't being kissed because of convenience, but desire. All of them were too emotionally stunted up until now to already know how. Yoongi was right, this would be a lot of work. Work they all were willing to do.

Tip Jar

[altsvu]

left in the dark

pairing: jj x kate callahan x bau!fem!reader, aaron hotchner x bau!fem!reader

wc: 1.6k

summary: you find out you’re pregnant with Hotch’s baby (in the most unexpected way) and you go to JJ and Kate about it since they’re also pregnant, but their only advice is to tell Hotch about it.

tw: pregnancy, fluff, mentions of blood/injury, breeding kink??

a/n: at first this was super hard for me to write, mostly because this is different than what i’m used to, but i think it turned out okay! enjoy my lovelies!!

criminal minds masterlist! ✯ taglist!

✯✯✯✯

“JJ! When were you gonna tell me?”

“I don’t know, I just wanted to wait till things played out.”

You smiled. “Well, I’m super happy for you regardless.”

“Thank you.” JJ smiled, pulling you into a hug. “So, how are things going with you and Hotch?”

You bit your lip. Hotch was the sweetest to you. He took you to romantic dates on off days and you always checked up on each via text messages and FaceTime when one of you were away.

Not to mention that your sex life was immaculate.

“Things are going pretty well, to be honest. We’re actually going to rent out the AMC movie theater in Arlington this weekend and watch our favorite throwback movies.”

“Oh, that sounds super romantic, I’m actually super glad that you two finally decided to get together after he was pining for you for years.”

You snorted. “We were both pining for each other. For a very very long time.”

“Yeah, the team had their suspicions.” JJ agreed. “You ready to head to the jet?”

You nodded and followed JJ out to the tarmac.

✯✯✯✯

You and Hotch had to go check out the crime scene, and it was a gruesome one. A family of 5 were bludgeoned in their home late at night, and the wife... well she had multiple knife cuts on her abdomen.

Out of nowhere, you felt sick to your stomach. This was unusual, especially for you since you got used to seeing many different types of crime scenes. You tried your hardest to breathe calmly but you felt yourself about to throw up.

“... he hurts them before finally killing them. Y/N? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just probably ate something bad-“ you couldn’t even finish your sentence when you found yourself running outside and throwing up. You wiped your mouth and took deep breaths, trying to process what just happened.

“Sweetheart?” Hotch whispered. You turned around and he held you by your arms. “What’s going on? This is very unlike you.”

“I- I don’t know what’s going on.” you replied. “This never happens.”

He pulled you into a hug. “Do you want me to take you back to the field office?” He murmured into your hair.

“No, you don’t have to. I’ll be okay.”

You caught Hotch still staring you down with a concerned look on his face.

“Damn it Aaron. Don’t worry about me. I don’t want to be the reason we don’t find this unsub in a timely manner.”

“Okay, you’re right. But can you please let me know if you don’t feel well?”

“Yes sir.” You smiled, pressing a kiss on his cheek and walking back to the crime scene.

✯✯✯✯

When you got back to the field office, Hotch had to talk to the field agent on the case in his office, and you had to go to the conference room to look over some case files.

Hunger then struck over you, so you headed to the vending machine you noticed earlier to find a snack to hold you over until lunch. The options that were there weren’t appealing to you, so it looked like you weren’t gonna be eating for about a few more hours. To your luck, Kate and JJ were in the conference room when you got back.

“Girls, I swear I’m gonna die if I don’t have anything in my system.”

“You want some saltines? It’s all I have.” JJ asked.

“Oh yes, please.” You nodded. JJ handed you a fresh pack.

You were so indulged in them that you almost finished the pack. JJ and Kate caught on

extremely fast.

“Are you pregnant too?” Spencer asked, walking in.

“What? What makes you think I’m pregnant?”

Kate sat next to you. “Well, for starters, you’re eating saltines.”

“Because I didn’t want anything at the vending machine.”

“There’s a pattern here. Kate ate saltines, I caught JJ eating saltines, and now you’re eating them.”

You sighed, putting the rest of the pack down. “Look, pretty boy, I think I would know if I were pregnant.”

“If you say so,” Reid answered with a smile on his face.

The rest of the team came in, and all thoughts of you being pregnant dissipated.

✯✯✯✯

Over the next few days, you had some of the same symptoms and you started to wonder if you were actually pregnant. You wanted to buy a test but it would be hard to do so when your job came first.

Soon enough, the case was closed and you were heading back home. Everyone on the jet was asleep except you and Hotch.

“Hey,” he said softly. “How you feeling?”

“Like eating a 5 course meal and throwing it back up.” you moaned, curling up closer to him for comfort.

“I’ll take you home and cook you a nice meal, okay?”

You nodded, mumbling “I love you” and he kissed your lips in response.

Finally getting home, Hotch did as he promised and you spent the night cuddling and comforting each other.

The next morning you felt yourself throwing up again so you decided it was time to get a pregnancy test. Hotch had already left to go back to Quantico to do some paperwork but the rest of the team was off. You dragged yourself to a nearby store to get a test and took it immediately.

Two lines.

How would Hotch react?

He always talked about having kids, in fact he almost got turned on at the thought of you with a baby bump. But the only thing was that he wanted things to be planned out.

You figured he was pretty busy at the moment so you called JJ and Kate and asked to come over to one of their homes. Ultimately, JJ invited you and Kate over.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Kate asked when you arrived.

“I’m pregnant.” You whispered. Both of the women hugged you and congratulated you. They then sat you down at JJ’s dining room table.

“Does Hotch know?”

You bit your lip. “That’s the thing. He doesn’t really know yet. I don’t really know what to do.”

“Well I think the best thing to do is tell him. There’s no way that he would get mad. He loves you too much.” JJ suggested.

You nodded in agreement.

“Also, he’s gonna find out soon enough, so it would be better to just let him know so he expects it,” Kate added.

“You ladies are so right. I’ll let you know how things go!”

✯✯✯✯

When you got back home, Hotch was at the couch watching a show, but it looked more like he was about to fall asleep.

“Hi baby,” you murmured against his skin after ridding yourself of your outerwear and shoes.

“Y/N...” he whispered. He sat up and held you by your waist. “I missed you when I came in.”

“Yeah, I just went over JJ’s for a bit.”

Hotch nodded. There was a bit of silence between you two.

“You look like there’s something bothering you.” he then said.

You shut your eyes, trying to think of the right way to tell him. “Aaron, I’m pregnant.” you said so very quietly.

His eyes widened in excitement. “Y/N! Oh my gosh, I’m ecstatic! This is amazing!”

You smiled and laughed in joy with him as one of his hands sneaked under your shirt and rubbed your belly. He was now sitting upright with you on his lap.

“God, I don’t think you know how long I’ve thought about this.” Hotch hummed, kissing your bare skin. “All those times filling you up with my seed in the bedroom paid off big time. I can’t wait to see your belly grow and grow.”

You leaned down and kissed his lips. “Mmm, I can’t wait either.”

✯✯✯✯

It was just a matter of time before the rest of the team found out. You did not hear the end of it from Spencer when he figured that he was right the whole time.

Hotch, on the other hand, didn’t waste any time serenading and whispering sweet nothings about how you looked so beautiful with your ever growing baby bump to you every day after work, even sometimes during work too. He’d always say that he was just super excited that you were pregnant with his baby every time you asked.

Your pregnancy was so special to the team that Kate and JJ threw a surprise baby shower, in which everyone found out you and Hotch were having a little girl.

In a few short months, your due date was inching closer and closer, and Hotch was there by your side through everything, from when your water broke in the briefing room to when you were being rushed to a hospital room to have the baby delivered.

And finally.

You welcomed a baby girl into the world.

“She’s so beautiful. Just like you.” Hotch smiled and kissed your lips after you were able to hold your baby again.

You nodded in agreement, tears escaping your eyes. You thought about what your life was going to be like now, since you had a precious little one to take care of.

During your maternity leave, each member of the team came to visit you at home, some bearing small gifts for your baby.

“Hey,” Hotch came up to you one night after putting your baby to bed. He tucked your hair behind your ear and kissed the skin behind it. “Can I tell you something?”

“Mhmm, anything.”

“I’m really glad that we have a baby to take care of. I’ve wanted this for such a long time, and having it with you just makes it even better.”

You smiled in response. “Yeah?”

“Oh yeah. I love you so much, Y/F/N Y/L/N.”

✯✯✯✯

taglist: @storiesofsvu @averyhotchner @ssaic-jareau @blackbeautifulqueen @virgo-gf @mstrinnyb @mrshadeelgibson @ssahotchswifemain @anxiousblanketqueen @hotchsbabygirl @willowrose99 @ssa-sarahsunshine @deiondraaa

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Day 57: Text Message

As part of the Muggle Studies class, all of the 8th years received cell phones.

Draco didn't really understand all that much about it (and he hadn’t been listening especially carefully when their teacher had talked about it), but it did come with a little snake game that you steered the snake around to help it eat apples and avoid running into itself.

One of their assignments had also been to put in their peer's names in the phones with what seemed to be random coordinates. He wasn't entirely sure how that works either, if it was meant to transport you some how or something else entirely. He'd overheard Granger say something about it allowing you to essentially firecall someone, but he wasn't sure how that worked either.

He was sitting in the common room late one night (he didn't sleep well) playing around with his phone when he found a little button beside each of his classmates' names that opened up a little box that he could put words into.

It was like a little filing system for letters that Pansy would never be able to snoop through! Perfect.

Grinning, and thinking how cathartic it would be to get the words out of his head without the risk of anyone ever seeing them, he clicked on the bubble next to Potter's name and started typing.

Dear Potter, I know that you won't read this, which is why I feel like I can write it. I've wanted to say thank you for quite some time but haven't been able to work up the nerve. Thank you for saving my life, thank you for killing Voldemort, thank you for keeping me out of prison. I'm grateful, truly. And I know it's none of my business and it's not my place, but you've always gotten under my skin where you don't belong and I can't help it. You always look sad. You are always withdrawn and distant, even from your friends. It bothers me. Are you okay? I know that none of us are okay, but you know what I mean. Anyway, like I said, you won't read this but it makes me feel better to write it down. Best, Draco Malfoy

He tapped the little arrow button that would, he assumed, put it into the top part so he'd have it for later.

With that off his chest, he went back to playing his snake game until his mobile buzzed and pinged, startling him so bad that he dropped it.

Malfoy, you know i can read that, right?

Draco stared at the screen where a little box had popped up under his, uncomprehendingly.

Who is this? If this phone is even a horocrux, I'm done. Get away from me.

it's Harry. Harry Potter.

Came the reply and Draco thought for a moment that he was about to pass out.

don't freak out

Too late for that, certainly, he thought hysterically.

it's okay. this was nice, actually.

What was?

getting your text message.

What's a "text message"?

this. what we're doing right now. we're sending text messages.

But how?

that was the point of putting everyone's numbers in your phone. that way we can call and text each other.

Interesting. You must get a lot of texts since everyone has your number. How have you managed to make time for little old me?

not really, actually. no one really texts me or talks to me for that matter. killing a person makes you unapproachable, apparently.

I find this hard to believe.

you can believe what you want. but it's true. you said so yourself.

So... are you okay?

He found himself asking, afraid of the answer but Potter hadn't hexed him yet. He wondered if it was possible to hex someone via text message.

none of us are. not really. but no. no i'm not.

Of all people, it seems you should be allowed to be not okay.

i literally laughed out loud. startled my poor owl out of her sleep. of all people, i am the least likely to be allowed to not be okay. no one wants to know me. they just want me to be who they think i am.

Well, if it makes you feel better people feel that way about me, too.

i know. but i don't feel that way. i wouldn't have testified for you at your trial if i did.

I ought to say thank you for that.

you already did.

Well, I ought to say it now that I know you can hear it. or read it, rather.

your welcome you're*** i'm not an idiot, i promise

Well, I wouldn't go that far.

ha. ha.

I mean, your master plan for defeating one of the most powerful wizards of all time was to use a disarming spell.

well it worked, didn't it? i've successfully murdered someone by the age of 18. wouldn't my parents be proud?

He stared at the text for a moment, processing, trying to understand what that was supposed to mean. Did Harry feel guilty?

It bothers you. That you killed him.

don't pretend it wouldn't bother you.

Potter, I would have strangled him with my bare hands if I'd thought it would have worked. I won't pretend to understand what you're going through but self defense and saving who knows how many lives, ought to give you a little peace.

There wasn't an answer for a long moment and Draco worried he'd overstepped. He sat there, tapping his forefingers against the mobile, waiting.

it gets hard to see the big picture sometimes. like rationally, i understand what you're saying but...

It's harder when you're the one who has to live with the consequences.

yes

I don't sleep well.

neither do i which is probably obvious since I'm texting you at 2:00am

He typed and erased the starts of sentences repeatedly. 'would you like to come and not sleep well tog-' 'I'm in the common room-' 'do you want to actually talk in per-'.

I'm at the astronomy tower.

I'm in the common room. Some of us can't afford to get caught where we don't belong.

it sounds silly but do you want to sit together? just it might be nice not to be alone ?

Come back to the common room.

He sent before he could change his mind. Then he began to slowly panic; what was he thinking?

A few minutes later, the portrait that guarded the 8th year common room opened and Harry came in, looking a bit windblown. "Uh," Harry said inelegantly. "Hi."

"Hello," Draco replied carefully.

Harry stared at him for a long moment before taking a few steps closer. "Can I sit?"

"Please," Draco replied, gesturing to the couch beside him.

Harry sat and pulled his legs up to his chest. "I don't really want to talk."

"Okay," Draco affirmed.

Harry glanced over at him, "Does quiet bother you?"

He gave him a little smile and shook his head, "Maybe we would just be quiet together."

"I'd like that," Harry whispered.

"Me too."

And that was the first of many nights sitting together quietly, and the first of many hard conversations had via text message.

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Day 56: Phone call | Day 58: Voicemail