#but luckily google was actually helpful (for once) and i managed to get it back :'D

[monotone-artist]

montyyyyyyyy

[violetszone]

Little Star Posie

Lewis x fem!reader

From this request

Summary: With Lewis you hid your newborn baby from the media, your daughter Posie somehow published from media when she was 10 months old.

WARNINGS: Bad English (a little google translate,not edited writing),fluff,angst

Having a baby was a big thing especially the pressure of having the baby of a famous person was even bigger so after you told Lewis you were pregnant you talked between you and you didn't want the media to target the two of you, so as a future mother you wanted your baby to be able to live like normal children at least when they were little,you didn't run away during your pregnancy but you managed to hide it so the media wouldn't notice

When you held your little girl in your arms, only a few people knew, a few of the formula racers, your families and mercedes that much,Your baby was really beautiful. Everyone who knew you had a baby was absolutely loved when they saw her.

Of course, it caught the medias attention that you didn't go out with Lewis for a long time. That's why you decided to hire a nanny for a short time for your baby.So you could go out once in a while and let the media leave you alone. Something you didn't know was that the nanny you took was actually leaking information to the media. One day the nanny asked you to take the baby for a walk.

You wanted your 10-month-old daughter to go out too, the garden of the house was not enough for her, or your family's house. You helped the baby smuggle the car but you didn't know that the media was following the car. 1 hour later, while sitting comfortably at home, a notification fell on your phone, then a lot of notifications started coming in, Lewis started to call you and you answered the phone "YN did you know about this?"

"About what?" you heard the sound of getting in the car, "Posie is out with her nanny, didn't you know about this?" you were confused "Yeah how do you know about this" you heard him start the car "Because the whole world is talking about it"

You were shocked, you took the tablet next to you, my god, the photos of your baby were in the lap of her nanny, the photos of the car when it was leaving your house, the whole world was really talking about it .

You were really pissed off shortly after Lewis got home "Honey they're going to find out eventually" he was right you knew "I would just prefer it to be with our consent to share and explain a photo with our baby" he came close to you to comfort you "Don't worry we will handle it " you heard the sound of the house door nanny entered the living room with your daughter Posie in her arms, Lewis put his hand on your shoulder because he knew you would get up.

When the nanny saw the two of you looking at her, her face fell, you wanted your baby, you needed to hug her Lewis took Posie, who opened her arms to her father she immediately wrapped her arms around her father's neck and put her head on his shoulder, Lewis bounced her in his arms a few times then gave her to you, you smelled and kissed her, while the nanny was just about to talk Lewis silenced her.

"I won't ask why you did this, obviously for the money, what you did was not right and it was disrespectful to our private life we can even sue if we want luckily we are not bad people all I expect from you is to apologize to YN" The woman muttered an apology in her mouth, all you wanted was for her to leave your house "Please leave the house and don't come back again i accept your apologize just for you to leave"

You decided to take Posie to the room when she moved in your lap,on the way upstairs, the nanny was walking out the door. You left Posie in her crib and went downstairs,Lewis was waiting for you, you went and hugged him, you weren't really good mentally right now "What are we going to do now?" he pat your back "We're going to share a post where we make a explanation  about Posie, and we will wait"

You wrote and shared a caption along with a few photos from when Posie was born on your instagram accounts.The reactions from the fans were generally very sweet, most of them were disappointed and they were right, but they agreed with you, actually,

The idea of to wander  comfortably with Posie made you happy. Lewis was happy too that you could come to the races with Posie, and he wanted to spend time outside with her daughter, actually in a way this  have been good.

Bonus:

[illfoandillfie]

The Assistant (Kinktober Day 12: Office Sex)

Kinktober Masterlist | Regular Masterlist

Pairing: Gwilym Lee x Reader

Words: 2,075

Warnings: coercion so dubcon, oral sex (m receiving), semi-public sex, workplace sex, dom!gwil sub! reader, sex in exchange for money.

A/N: This one has been in the back of my head for literally months. I think it was inspired by a post I saw on a porn blog but they got deleted so I can't be sure.

When you’d applied for the executive assistant job there’d been no sign of anything sketchy at the company. Admittedly you hadn’t researched them much other than a quick google, but there’d been no red flags that you saw. You’d decided to apply because you needed the money and couldn’t find work in any fields related to your degree. An assistant role seemed like both a sensible way to make a regular paycheck and a fairly easy job to keep you occupied until something else turned up. Besides, at a well-regarded company like Lee, Jones and Boynton you could potentially make connections with high-profile people and that was always useful. So you’d applied, had an interview with the HR management and the man you’d be working for, Gwilym Lee. Apparently they’d liked you enough to hire you and before you knew it you were stationed at the desk outside Mr Lee’s office. You were his personal assistant which meant not just answering phones like you initially assumed, but also managing his calendar, taking minutes during meetings, and basically doing whatever he asked of you. It wasn’t too taxing but it did keep you busy which you liked. Besides, Gwilym was very handsome and you got to spend a lot of time watching him through the glass wall of his office. It was a major perk, and a slight distraction on slower days. Once or twice, you’d let yourself fantasise about hiding under his desk to blow him while he worked or riding him in the backseat of his company car.  

You’d been at the company for a few months when you were due to have a meeting with your boss to discuss how you were finding things and evaluate your performance. The whole thing made you nervous and you had to keep reminding yourself that Gwilym was very nice and very pleased with your work so far. You weren’t about to be fired. All the same, you made sure you dressed professionally that day and did the utmost on your work while waiting to be called into his office.   Luckily, Gwilym didn’t make you wait too long before calling you in. He directed you over to a set of chairs in the corner of his office so there was no desk between you. It helped you feel more at ease, like it was less of a professional judgement and more just a conversation. But he got right to it once you were comfortable.   “So, Y/N, how have you been finding the job?”  “It’s been really great actually.”  “That’s good to hear.” He chuckled, “I’ve been very pleased with your performance. Your attention to detail has been outstanding and you’ve kept up with the demanding nature of keeping me organised.”   You breathed a sigh of relief and smiled at the praise.   “This whole thing is really just a formality. But if there’s any questions you had that you haven’t had a chance to ask, please ask them now.”  “Well, there was one thing,” you started, a little uncomfortable with the topic but wanting to get clarity all the same.  “Go on.”  “When I first interviewed, I remember it being mentioned that there was room for wage increases. I just wanted to check if it was an annual adjustment or something I have to apply for. How does it work?”  “Smart girl for asking. There are a few ways. A regular increase to your pay will come into effect every two or three years. There are bonuses available towards the end of the year. And, of course, we can always have a discussion about it and come to an arrangement between ourselves. Do you need extra money?”   You couldn’t help but blush at his forthright question, “Well...”  “It’s okay Y/N, you can talk to me.” He placed his hand on your knee, comfortingly, “If you need extra money urgently we can work something out.”  “Not necessarily urgently. Just that my roommate moved out quite unexpectedly and no one’s taken her room yet so I’ll have to cover the rent on my own until I find someone. I can cover it fine on my current pay. I know I haven’t really been here long enough for a raise or anything, I just was curious about it.”  Gwilym hummed in thought, “Well, yes, a raise may not be possible just yet but there is a way I can help. It’d be a small bonus to your pay. A couple hundred dollars a month maybe.”  “Are you sure? That seems like a lot.”  “Y/N, I like you. You’re an incredible assistant. The work you did to organise those Bangkok meetings was outstanding. I want to help you.”  “Thank you Mr Lee. Do I have to fill out a form or anything?”  “Nothing so formal. I can alert the finance department on your behalf and they’ll make the adjustment. All you have to do is suck me off.” His hand tightened on your knee for a moment before he released you.   “Sorry Sir, what?”  “Suck me off.” He said it slower, annunciating each individual word clearly. “I understand if you need time to consider. You may go.”  You nodded and left the office, not quite sure what had happened. And for the rest of the day you muddled through your duties, entirely distracted and unsure what to do.  

It was all you thought about when you got home. And for the next few days too. It crossed your mind that you’d misunderstood and then when you convinced yourself you hadn’t, it occurred to you that you should probably report him. Make a #metoo tweet, alert someone else in the company. But then the rent came due and you were left with less in the bank than you expected.  He was offering you the money you needed. You could get by without it but it’d be a lot easier if you had it, especially if it took a while to find a new roommate. And what was the harm really. Gwilym was handsome and you liked him anyway. You’d even fantasised about doing exactly what he’d asked you to do so it wasn’t like you were entirely opposed to it. By the time you next got into work you’d made up your mind to accept the offer. Instead of leaving work at your usual time that evening, you stayed in your seat, knowing that Gwilym would be staying late that night. He didn’t seem too surprised when he looked up and saw you still at your desk. He just smirked at you through the glass and then called you in.   You took a deep breath as you stood up, smoothed out the blouse and skirt you were wearing, and entered his office.  

“You wanted to see me Sir?”  “What are you still doing here Y/N?”  “I thought you might...need me tonight.”  He raised an eyebrow and kept looking at you.  You felt completely flustered by his gaze and within seconds he’d broken through your defences, blurting out, “I’ll do it Mr Lee.”  “Do what Y/N?”  “The thing we talked about.”  “You’ll need to be much more specific.”  You groaned when you realised he was going to make you say it out loud, “I’m here to suck you off.”  Gwilym shrugged, “Who said the offer is still on the table? Maybe you took too long to decide. Maybe there’s another piece of arse who wants it more. By the sounds of it you don’t really need the money anyway.”  “No, Sir, I do. I really need it. Please, I’ll do anything you want. Whatever you want.”  Gwilym smiled again, “Good. I just needed to know how desperate you are. Now, over here. My cock’s big but not so big you can reach it from across the room.”  You gulped and walked towards him as he swivelled in his chair so that his legs were no longer under his desk.   “I like this outfit you’re wearing. But you should undo a couple of buttons so I can see your tits better. That’s a good girl.”  Your fingers fumbled with the buttons as you exposed your chest for him and nervously knelt between his legs.   Gwilym made no move to help you. You had to unzip his fly and pull his dick out on your own. He was semi hard, so you spat into your hand and stroked him to full stiffness. He'd not been lying about being big and for a moment you felt completely intimidated. You waited for a word of encouragement as your hand slid up and down the shaft, waited for any sort of praise or direction from him. But he barely paid you attention, clicking through his emails instead. Somehow that was more humiliating than if he’d been staring at you. Even when you actually put your mouth on him, you got no recognition. You sucked on his head, hoping to get some sort of response but there was not so much as a groan. And when you began bobbing up and down his shaft, trying to take more and more of his length, it was the same. A couple of times his hips twitched, and once you were rewarded with a quiet hum of pleasure. But that was it. For the most part he took no interest in what you were doing and gave no indication that he was enjoying it. Which, stupidly, just made you push yourself further, aching for some sort of praise. You gagged on his cock and then tried to take more, hoping that if you got him in your throat, he’d give you a moan. When that didn’t work you moved faster, a constant string of little gagging sounds rising from you as you practically fucked your mouth on his cock. And still just the click of his mouse.  

You didn’t know how to feel or what to do other than keep sucking his cock. It was embarrassing how badly you wanted his approval. Shameful that you were getting wet from his lack of attention while you whored yourself out to him. And yet you couldn’t bring yourself to stop. A tiny thought popped into the back of your head. That, if he wasn’t happy with your efforts, he may refuse you the money. That you’d have put yourself in this situation for nothing. It was unthinkable and you were determined not to let that happen. So, you doubled your effort, tried to show him that you enjoyed submitting to his desires. With a mouth full of his cock you moaned, earning a pleased laugh from Gwil but nothing else. 

In fact, the only reaction you really got was when he came. His hand came up to the back of your head and he held you in place firmly. You tried to move back, to shake him off, but he was too strong and too determined to keep you shoved down his length. All you could do was gag and take it as he came, ashamed by the wetness you could feel in your underwear.   When he was done he let you go and you gasped for breathe. But there was semen running down his shaft where it had escaped your lips and you knew he would not be satisfied with your performance if you were not thorough enough. So you licked him clean, made sure you sucked every drop of cum from his cock, before you sat back, licking your lips clean too.  

For a moment you sat there, panting, waiting for further instruction. But then Gwilym tucked his cock away and zipped his pants up and you knew you were dismissed. You stood and moved towards the doorway, feeling sick to the stomach and close to tears, but he stopped you before you could leave.   “Wait, Y/N.”   You turned towards, trying to remain composed despite how humiliated you felt.   “Well done. I’ll make sure the bonus is transferred to your account, you’ll have it by tomorrow.”  “Thank you Mr Lee.”  “If you want more then you’ll stay late again. I can keep paying you but you’ll have to keep earning it.”  “Yes Sir.”  “I think I should test out a new hole though, so don’t worry about underwear.”  “Yes Sir.”  “Oh and Y/N,”  “Yes?”  “On a related note, tomorrow I don’t want to see those top buttons done up.”  “Is that all Sir?”  “Yes, that’s all. You’re a very good assistant. Goodnight Y/N” 

[helliontherapscallion]

(Y/n) and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Week: Thursday (Part 2)

Monday     Tuesday     Wednesday     Thursday (Part 1)     Friday     Saturday     Sunday

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Warnings: panic attacks, swearing, puking, concussions, mentions of injuries/bullying, homophobia

Word count: 5,138

After school, you were sitting on the couch as you furiously typed on your keyboard at an extremely fast pace. You were on a roll with these essays, they were probably going to be finished by the time you had to go back to the school to get on the bus with the team. You figured that you could even finish Annie’s essay and get started on Sammy’s US history presentation on the sociopolitical climate of the United States in the mid twentieth century to today. However, instead of covering a variety of topics like the rubric requested you to do, you were only going to talk about the significant events that happened to the LGBT+ community starting with Stonewall and going to Obergefell v. Hodges. You were also going to go in depth about how even if there are more opportunities available and more laws set in place to protect for LGBT+ people in the present then there were in past, members of the LGBT+ community still suffer heavy discrimination in the workplace and in the public. With receipts of course, the assignment required a minimum of three pictures per slide, and the group chat was a perfect source.

After that was done, you would email Sammy’s teacher (you had her last year for US history and you knew that she had a son in the grade below you currently transitioning from female to male) that you were the one that did her project and send screenshots of Sammy calling you slurs. Luckily for you, you had receipts of her being transphobic in the past that you could also send. Everything was effortlessly falling into place for you today. 

As you were typing, the front door swung open and two overly excited fifth graders ran into the house and up the stairs. A tired Schlatt followed them. “I will never know how the hell Phil keeps up with them.” 

“I dunno, maybe because he’s already raised three kids before.”

You watched as your uncle jumped and whipped his head over towards you, his hand clutching his chest. He lightly glared at you, “christ kid don’t do that, you nearly gave me a heart attack.”

You smirked at him before turning back to your laptop to continue typing the essay. You were almost done with the conclusion paragraph on Annie’s essay and you wanted to get to Sammy’s presentation as fast as possible. As you were typing, you felt a warm air fan across your neck and your uncle’s voice right next to your ear, “whatcha typin?”

You lept off the couch and almost fell into the coffee table before steadying yourself and deadpanning at Schlatt. “I was typing an essay before you interrupted me.”

He snorted, “it looked like you were on a roll, just thought I’d see what my beloved niece was writing. Can I read it?” 

Your eyes lit up as an excited grin split your cheeks, “yeah, but lemme catch you up real quick. Adrian, Sammy, and Annie got mad at me a few days ago and wanted me to do some homework for them as a sort of payment. But after they pulled that little stunt in the lunchroom yesterday, they decided to be little bitches to me and call me slurs. So naturally, I decided to change the essay prompt into an in depth analysis about discrimination LGBT people face from their peers on the daily. My english teacher’s really against homophobia and the project’s worth twenty five percent of our overall grade, so it’s perfect.”

While you were rambling on and on about your detailed plot for revenge, Schlatt couldn’t help but be proud of the person you’d become. A major part of him was impressed that you came up with a detailed plan so quickly, that meant that his cunning nature was rubbing off on you and that made him ecstatic. Sure you mentioning not being straight was new to him, but he was prepared to accept you for whatever you identified as. He didn’t care how people identified, he just cared if they were good people. And his niece was one of the best kids he knew. He’d let your slip up slide for now until you felt comfortable enough to properly come out to him. 

“That an amazing plan, fuckin brilliant. Though, you could do more.”

That piqued your interest, “I’m listening.”

“Do you have any blackmail?”

Your eyes glinted with sudden understanding, “why yes I do, uncle dearest. I just so happen to have thousands of texts from them talking shit about each other and basically the entire school. And them being incredibly racist. They would be destroyed if that came out.” 

“Two things. One, never call me that again. Two, perfect. Keep it as leverage if they try to do something. You don’t pull out all the good cards in the first round, you wait for the right moment to strike so you can win. You need to constantly defend yourself against other players and anticipate their every move. If you leak everything right now, you won’t have anything to use against them if they have something up their sleeve you didn’t know about. Patience is key in things like this.”

You absorbed every single word that came out of his mouth like it was the holy gospel. Although he was your uncle and you loved him with all your heart, but he was a sly bastard when he wanted to be. He knew his way around fighting and manipulating people just right, so you were incredibly happy that you were on his good side and he absolutely adored you. Though questionable and morally gray, he was giving you advice because he cared about you and you’d be an idiot to not heed his advice. 

“That’s genius, Uncle Schlatt. What would I do without you?”

“You’d get along just fine without me, you would’ve gotten there eventually. You’re smart. I’m just givin you a little push in the right direction.”

“I honestly would’ve never thought about waiting, I was so dead set on getting revenge that I would’ve just leaked everything all at once. I want them to feel how I felt when they were around me. I-” you paused. Would this make you the same as them? You’d be screwing up all their grades, Adrian’s job, and Sammy’s athletic career. You came to the chilling realization that you’d be the same as them. You’d be as manipulative as they were. “...Uncle Schlatt, would that make me the same as them?”

“Fuck no! You’re always gonna be better than them no matter what. When they’re at their best, you’re always gonna be a whole lot better than them. They deserve what’s happening to them, it sounds like they put you through so much shit the past few years. I actually think you could do a whole lot worse to them if you’re willing to put more work in, but it’s your plan and if you think that what you’re doing is too much,” he darkly chuckled, “you wouldn’t like my idea.”

“You’re right, they deserve everything I have planned for them. God, I don’t know what I was thinking, ‘would that make me the same as them,’” you mocked what you said earlier, “what a load of shit. Anyways, thanks Uncle Schlatt. I’m gonna get back to writing this. They’re due tomorrow and I wanna finish as much as I can before I have to go.”

“Alright, whaddya want for dinner? Phil’s gonna be like thirty minutes late from work so I’m cookin tonight.”

Oh no. No, no, no, no. That man can barley cook boxed mac n cheese, let alone anything else. He’d burn down the house if you left him alone in the kitchen with the stove. “On second thought, why don’t I help you with dinner? We can make some chicken alfredo.”

“Awe, you’d rather hang out with me than finish your homework? Ya really do love me. C’mon let’s start.”

The process of making dinner was… interesting. Multiple times, Schlatt almost spilled boiling water on himself and he even managed to burn the pasta while it was in the water. How he even managed to do that you’d never find out, you had your back turned cutting up vegetables and herbs at the time. That was when you subtly started to take over in the kitchen, giving him smaller tasks while you handled everything else. You felt bad for Tubbo, his father can’t cook for shit. 

By time you finished, about an hour passed and Philza had come home and changed out of his work clothes. The two adults sat at the table discussing something that you didn’t pay attention to while your brothers and cousin were in the living room waiting for you to finish dinner. Finally, you set the table and it was time to eat. 

Because you couldn’t have many fatty foods before any matches or practices, you had made a separate plate for yourself that only had plain pasta, chicken, and broccoli. You were surprised with how well it turned out, you were following an iffy recipe you found on the first link Google brought up. 

After dinner, you went upstairs to put your uniform on and pack a little bag full of things you might need: a small blanket, some snacks, a water bottle, and a portable charger. Oh, and fuzzy socks and a pair of crocs. You could never go wrong with fuzzy socks and crocs. Feeling a vibration in your pocket, you pulled out your phone.

Hales : )

(Y/n), I’m omw to your house

Gonna give you a ride to the school

(Y/n)

Hales you don’t have to give me a ride, I can drive

Hales : )

Don’t care

Omw, be there in like 7 mins

You swiped out of yours and her conversation and opened up the family group chat

(Y/n)

I don’t need a ride to the school, Haley’s giving me one

She’s gonna give me a ride home too

Dadza

Alright, thank her for me

Tell her I said good luck too!

Uncle Schlatty Patty

Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do

Dadza

(Y/n), do everything he wouldn’t do

Uncle Schlatty Patty

Fuck you I’m a good influence

Dadza

You’re really not

Wilby

^^^^

Technology Sword

^

Uncle Schlatty Patty

Fuck all of you 

You heard Haley’s car pull into the driveway and dashed out of your room with your bag. Just as you put your hand on the doorknob, a hand stopped you.

“Coat.”

You grumbled as you reached past Philza to grab your coat. After you slipped it on, you were pulled into a hug. “You’re gonna do great out there. I know you’re gonna win this, we’ll be watching in the stands.”

“Damn right she’s gonna do good, she’s my niece after all.”

Schlatt pulled you away from your father’s hug and tried to ruffle your hair before you swatted away his hand, “don’t. You have no idea how long it took me to get a perfect ponytail. I have an ungodly amount of hairspray and bobby pins in my hair right now.”

“Fine. You’re gonna kick their asses tonight.”

Tommy and Tubbo pushed past Schlatt and both tackled you into a hug making you stumble slightly back. 

“Kick their asses good (y/n)!” Tommy cheered, making you crack up before one stern glance from Philza completely stopped you. “Tommy, don’t say that. (Y/n), not funny.”

“Alright, Haley’s waiting for me. I gotta go, love you guys!” As you turned to walk through the door, you could hear your family following you and shouting “good luck”. You felt heat creep up on your cheeks as Haley rolled down her window and wove at your family with the biggest grin on her face. 

“Thank you! We’re gonna take home the gold for sure!”

You hopped in her car as she rolled up the window and chuckled. “I love your family, they’re always so full of energy. It’s refreshing to see compared to how boring my family is.”

You glanced at your entire family gathered on the front porch. Tommy and Tubbo were practically vibrating with excitement, Wilbur and Techno calmly smiled and wove at you, Philza was grinning widely at you as you saw his mouth forming words that you couldn’t hear or read, and Schlatt was grinning cheekily at you. You raised your hand to wave at them as they vanished from view when Haley pulled out of your driveway. You smiled softly, “I love em too.”

The car ride was relatively quick with the same soft indie pop music floating from the speakers and an easy going conversation with Haley about the match tonight. You both thought that you could beat the other team if everyone focused 100% and played exactly like you guys did in practices. If everyone did that, you would be unstoppable. 

Luckily for you and Haley, you were the first ones in line to board the bus so you two got the back seat with Zara and Jazzy sitting across from you guys. The hour long bus ride passed quickly and lively with you four passing around your phone and playing some mad libs, you were sure that by the end of the last game you four were laughing and crying. Sometime in the middle of the trip, you noticed that Haley would start to lean on your shoulder and continuously glance at you as she laughed. You desperately wanted to believe that it was because she liked you, but she was straight and she was your best friend. She was probably trying to make sure you were having a good time. 

When the team had gotten to the opposing school and left the locker room to stretch in the gym, you could hear your family start to scream your and Haley’s names from the front row next to you, Tommy and Tubbo being the loudest amongst them with Philza trying to get them to quiet down so you could focus. You felt your cheeks heat up as you smiled at them and Haley wove enthusiastically back at them. Zara was laughing at you two. Stretching went by in a flash and before you knew it, you were on the court facing the opposing team. 

The first match was won by the opposing team by five points. The second match stretched on and on until it was won by your team narrowly by two points. The team was going to have to shape up in the third match if you guys wanted a chance at winning, the opposing team was good. Before the third match started, Coach Williams called for a time out so you guys could talk about strategy. Before Haley could go back onto the court, you pulled her aside.

“Hales, we need to do what we practiced. The other team won’t be expecting it at all, I’ve been setting you up this entire game. They’re never going to expect you setting me up for a spike.”

“When are we going to do it though? We need a better plan.”

“I’m sure the opportunity will come and both of us will recognize it. We just can’t do it too early in the game though, that’ll ruin their surprise.”

“(Y/n), I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“When do I not Hales? We gotta get gold this year.”

The third round went by with both teams constantly swapping places until you both were tied fifteen to fifteen. You saw the ball flying towards Haley, giving her the perfect opportunity to set you up for a spike.  “HALEY NOW!” 

You watched as her face hardened in determination as she pretended like she was going to spike it by jumping high in the air and stretching her arms back, making the opposing front row players all gather in front of her. Much to their surprise, she launched it towards you as you leaped up and went for the kill. The stinging of the ball hit by your wrist and the smack sound the ball made when it slammed onto the open gym floor was something you’d never forget as the crowd around you went wild over the unexpected play. You could hear the high pitched screaming of Tommy and Tubbo over everybody else. Glancing at them over your shoulder, you saw them jumping up and down on the gym floor and looking at you with awe filled eyes and gaping mouths. The rest of your family looked at you with similar expressions, their cheers echoing in your mind. Winking at them, you turned back to your team and went straight to Haley. Clapping a hand on her shoulder, you pulled her into a quick hug, yelling over the raving of the crowd. “HALEY WE NAILED THAT!” 

“HOLY SHIT I DID NOT THINK THAT WAS ACTUALLY GONNA WORK!”

“You have such little faith in your setter! You wound me Hales.”

“Well, I would have more faith in you if you weren’t chaotic on the court, sweetheart.”

You felt yourself surge in happiness at the nickname, but you couldn’t afford to focus too much on it. Your team only needed one more point to win best in the state and go to nationals. It would be the first time in your team’s history if you reached national level, and you’d be damned if you were the one to screw it up for them. 

The last rotation went on for a while, each team fighting tooth and nail for the state championship title with clashing determination. You tried your best to block every hit and try to set Haley up for a spike, and you were successful for the most part, only missing a few blocks. You saw the setter adjacent to you set the spiker up for a spike and jumped up in time to try to block it, your arms stretched upwards and your palms out. Only, the ball didn’t hit your hands. It collided painfully with your nose, ricocheted off your face with a thwack and sailed over to the other side of the court. Your head whipped back as your body followed suit and flew backwards onto the floor. Without giving you any time to react, your head bounced back and cracked against the polished hardwood floor of the gym. Everything went black. 

“...(y……”

“..(y/n)......”

“(Y/n).”

You faintly heard someone calling someone’s name over the continuous ringing noise. Was it your name? It felt right, so it had to be your name. You peeled your eyes open to see a blurry figure hovering over you. It was swirled with tans, browns, and backs. After a while of the figure repeating your name, it slowly became more recognizable, albeit appearing twice in your vision. It took you a while to figure out who this was before your muddled brain recognized Haley.

“Hales! There’s two o’ya. Twice as beautiful babe…” You slurred out as you attempted to smile at her.

“Oh thank god, PLEASE WE NEED A DOCTOR SHE HIT HER HEAD!” Her usually angelic voice gritted against your brain like sandpaper making you cringe as pain exploded in your head.

“God babe you’re so loud, why’s so bright? I-wha's goin on?” You blearily tried to move your head to look around only to be stopped by a pair of large hands on each side of your head gently holding it in place. You moved your laggy eyes around to look at the figure. He was a blonde man with blue eyes and a hint of stubble on his chin. His eyebrows were knitted together and he looked… he looked… your brain worked to figure out why he looked how he looked. Who was he?

“Please don’t move hun.” His muffled voice was baritone. You squinted at him trying to figure out who this man was.

“Who th f-fuck… why?”

“I’m your dad hun. Do-do you not recognize me?” You made a noise in the back of your throat as your stuffy brain finally put a name to the face.

“Dad- wha’s goin on? I’on feel so good…”

“Shh, I know, I know. Just stop moving and talking. Everything’s fine. I’m here. You’re okay.”

“Mmk… Dad, where are we? I’ont know- you’re so quiet.”

“Stop moving so much. You’re on the floor in a gym. You just won your team the state championship. Now stop talking please.”

Huh. So that’s why everybody seemed to appear from above you. You strained your eyes to look around you, but you could only see your dad’s face hovering above you. “Shit I- who’s aroun’ me? Where’s Hales?”

“I’m right here sweetheart. I got the doctor, Mr. Minecraft.”

Your dad’s face moved away from your vision so fast that it made your head spin and your stomach twist. Another face appeared above you that you once again didn’t recognize.

“I’m Doctor Martin, can you tell me your first and last name?”

“Uh, (y/n) Minecraft?”

“Good, what month are we in right now?”

“Nov-November?”

“Close, it’s late October. Can you tell me who this,” he pointed to your dad, “is?”

“S’my dad Phillip.”

“That’s your dad Philza.”

The questioning stopped as he suddenly shined a blinding light into your sensitive eyes. You hissed as you tried to move your head away from the offending light only to be held in place by your dad’s hands. Your head spun as you moved too quickly and a wave of nausea hit you, making you groan and move your arm to cover your eyes. Your hand was stopped by something warm and soft wrapping around it and holding it tightly. Everything was so overwhelmingly and painfully bright and loud. You wanted to make it stop. 

“Mr. Minecraft, your daughter appears to have a concussion. I don’t have the tools on hand to determine the severity of it, but it’s worrying that her pupils are asymmetrical, she’s delirious, and has slight memory loss. I understand you live about an hour away from here, and it’s alright for you to take her to a hospital closer to your house. Make sure you keep her alert.”

Your delirious mind only registered about half of what came out of the doctor’s mouth. You mumbled gibberish as you once again opened your eyes to look around. You were only briefly able to crane your neck to the left. Several figures large and small were standing behind your dad. Your family, your mind supplemented. Slowly, your mind was starting to recognize your surroundings even if there was currently double of everything and everything was blurry.

“I’m going to help you stand up. Do ya think you can do that?”

“Yeah Dad.” You lifted your upper body off from the ground with a gentle hand on your back helping you sit up. Fighting the wave of nausea that slapped you in the face, you reached up to rub at your eyes. A hand once again stopped you. You peeked your eyelids open and lightly glared at whomever stopped you. “Hales you’re lucky you’re so cute I woulda slapped you. I like holdin but you’re bein annoying. Stop.” You attempted to make your voice sound firm, but the words that came out of your mouth were slightly slurred.

She was silent as she helped her dad haul you to your feet. Once on your feet, you saw the room spin and felt yourself start to sway slightly. An arm wrapped itself around your shoulders and pulled you close to them so that your weight was supported. They were a little taller than you were making it easy to lean on them. 

“...Can you walk?” A deep, monotone voice rumbled the chest of the person you were leaning against. 

“Mhm. ‘M not weak.” Though your limbs felt like they were made of molasses, you placed one foot in front of the other slowly. The person moved alongside you, “you’re doing so good, keep going.” That sparked familiarity in you as you stopped in your tracks and tried to look up at the person you were leaning against making the person tighten their arm around your shoulders when you almost fell over.

“Tech?”

“Yeah, it’s Technoblade. Just focus on walking. You’re almost out of the gym.”

When you realized that you were out of the gym, you sighed in relief. It was so much quieter and darker. Though it was still relatively bright, it was better than the gym. 

“S’better.”

“When we get her to the car we can give her some sunglasses or something if it’s still too bright for her.”

“Wilbs-”

“Focus on walking.”

You huffed in irritation, “don’ tell me what to do bitch.”

You felt Techno’s body jolt slightly as he chuckled, making your head throb at the sudden movement. “Just walk.”

When you walked outside, you shivered as you felt the cool air nip at your exposed skin. Right, you were in your volleyball uniform. “I’ll go pull the car around, you guys stay with her.” 

You saw a tall brunet start to walk away from you. Uncle Splat? Uncle Schmat? Whatever his name was, you were sure he was your uncle. You tried to snuggle closer to Techno, craving warmth but never being satisfied. Where was your uncle? 

After a while, you saw a car moving towards you and blinding light pointed right at you making you cringe away and groan. Techno started to slowly walk towards the car. “C’mon (y/n), you’re almost there. When you’re in the car you can relax.”

“Tommy, Tubbo, and Techno, you’re in the back row. Schlatt can drive and Wil, you’re taking the passenger seat. I’ll stay with her in the middle row so she can have some room to lay down.” Tommy and Tubbo were with you? Why weren’t they talking, they usually were very vocal.

“Tom, Tubbs didja like the game?”

They didn’t say anything as they climbed into the car. Did they not hear you? 

“They’re just… tired (y/n).” Your dad’s voice reassured you as he took Techno’s place holding you up. 

“I wanna nap. ‘M so tired.”

“You can’t sleep yet. We gotta get you to a doctor first.”

“Mm. Makes sense.”

“Let’s get you in the car hun.”

As he helped you climb into the car, you felt an overwhelming wave of nausea wash over you making you lose your balance and almost faceplant into the cloth seats. You felt yourself being gently, yet urgently taken out of the car and led to grass as you felt your esophagus shorten. Something burning made its way up your throat and spewed into the grass. You felt someone rubbing your back as you puked up your dinner. 

When you were done, you reached up with a shaking hand to wipe your mouth. “You feelin better? Think you can get back into the car or do you need to sit down for a bit?”

“Car.”

After some difficulty, you were successfully in the middle row of the car laying down with your head on Philza’s lap. Soon enough, your shoes were taken off and a blanket was draped over you. 

“(Y/n), what do you remember?”

You scrunched up your face as you squinted at Philza’s face. “I remember playing volleyball with Hales. She’s so pretty, she’s straight though. I remember the other team hitting the ball, me jumping, then nothin. Wha’ happened?”

You watched as Philza winced, “well, you got everything right so far. You got hit in the face with the ball so you fell and hit your head on the floor. You were passed out for a minute before you woke up. It was a pretty nasty fall, we’re going to the hospital now. How’re ya feelin?”

“Head hurts, ‘m seein two of everything, an I can’t think.”

“Do you know what a concussion is?” You nodded in his lap slightly, “you probably have one.”

After a while of talking, you were slowly starting to come to your senses and your speech was clearing up, but your head was still too stuffy to think about what you were saying before you said it. You didn’t have a filter.

“Do you wanna tell us about your week so far? Do you remember most of it?”

“Mhm, it was shit. On Monday I had a panic attack and Adrian, Sammy, and Annie were being bitches to me all day. They fucked up my back. On Tuesday, they got mad at me for ditching them and they had me do their homework, had another panic attack, and Haley told me that someone took pictures of our boobs ‘n stuff and they were gonna leak it to the school if Haley didn’t stop hanging out with me. Haley and I almost kissed, but she’s straight. Pulled an all nighter and Wednesday I accidentally came out to Tech and Wil and had another panic attack. Annie, Adrian, and Sammy took more pictures of me through my window, Annie outed me to the entire school and slapped me. Another panic attack, skipped the last two classes and felt like shit the entire practice. Today Adrian and Sammy told me to kill myself and I had another panic attack. ’S about it.”

As you were going through your week, the hand that was previously gently stroking your hair had frozen as the car was enveloped in a tense silence. Luckily, Tommy and Tubbo were passed out in the back seat so they didn’t hear how bad your week was. Everyone awake knew that you had a few bad days this week, but they didn’t know the full extent of it. You watched as Philza’s expression had turned downright murderous, but you didn’t really care. You were busy talking about your week.

For the rest of the car ride, Philza asked you simple questions like what your favorite color was, your favorite animal, basically your favorite everything. Eventually, the car pulled into the hospital parking lot and Philza helped you get out of the car. “Schlatt, can you take the boys home so they can get some rest? I’ll stay with her.” 

“Yeah, I’m on it. Don’t cause too much trouble (y/n), we all know you can raise hell.” He watched you for a reaction, but when you didn’t react, he coughed. “Well, I’ll see ya later kid. Good luck.”

The car drove off leaving you and Philza at the front of the emergency room building. “It’s gonna be a long night (y/n).”

“I gotta finish Annie’s essay and Sammy’s presentation though.”

“No you don’t, I’ll email your teachers.”

You two checked in with the front desk before moving to sit on the uncomfortable chairs. It was going to be a long night. You were so tired.

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[marauderundercover]

Taking Chances Chapter Five: Paris Revealed (Stories/Memories)

Prev

AO3

Marinette flinches back as the room erupts in shouting. The younger boy, who was definitely younger than her and yet almost (if not definitely) taller than her, was fiercely glaring while he screamed at Mr. Wayne in….was that Arabic? The man that walked in with him was waving around the knife in his hand while Dick yelled at Mr. Wayne, his face filled with confusion instead of fury. Glancing around for a way out, Marinette makes eye contact with Alfred who nods behind him. Sneaking away from the group of angry men, Marinette follows Alfred into the kitchen and instantly feels at home. And much calmer.

“I’m sorry.” She mumbles, breathing deeply to avoid spiraling again. Alfred simply hands her a cookie before turning around and putting water in a kettle.

“There is no need to apologize, Miss Marinette. It seems Master Bruce has forgotten all sense today and is instead insistent on acting like a fool. It was wrong of him to announce you like that, without preparing you or the boys beforehand. I do hope that his atrocious display of proper manners doesn’t make you want to leave.” Alfred says, and Marinette’s eyebrows shoot upwards. Was he? Was Alfred actually blaming this situation on Mr. Wayne? Was it Mr. Wayne’s fault? Did he not actually hate her? Did he just make a mistake?

“I- what?” Marinette says, unsure of herself.

“You, my dear, are not at fault. Your father didn’t tell any of his sons that you were coming to the manor today, or that you existed in general. And judging by your face, you weren’t prepared for the boys to be here either.” Alfred clarifies.

“Oh. No, I wasn’t. Mr. Wayne just said that he wanted to get to know me, and he knew I wanted to get to know him. I- my birth mother passed away. But my Maman knew her, so I can find out from her how I’m similar to Bridgette. But neither of my parents knew Mr. Wayne, and I just wanted to know if I was like him, I guess. I didn’t even know who he was until two days ago.” Marinette admits.

“As in you found out Bruce Wayne was your birth father two days ago or-” Alfred trails off, waiting for her to clarify.

“Oh no. I found out the name of my birth father awhile ago. It’s just- I really don’t pay attention to celebrities. The only ones I really know are designers. So I didn’t put two and two together, and I didn’t even know about Bruce Wayne and Wayne Enterprises until a few days ago. My friend Adrien made me google him and that’s when I found out about...the boys.” She says, stopping herself from saying her brothers as she was still unsure if Mr. Wayne actually wanted her like he wanted the others.

“Well I’m certain that things will start to calm down shortly. In the meantime, would you care for some tea?” Alfred asks, holding up the kettle. Marinette nods gratefully, trying hard to stop her inner spiral from drowning her.

---

“What do you mean daughter?” Damian snarls, finally switching to English. Bruce blinks at the boy before sighing.

“I mean, you have a biological sister.” He says, tired and wishing he had been able to convince Marinette to go somewhere else. Not that he didn’t want her to meet her siblings. But it definitely wasn’t the laid back first meeting that he wanted.

“You mean half-sister.” Damian spits out, crossing his arms and sticking his nose into the air.

“Shut up, Demon Spawn. She’s our sister, get over it. Where’d the kid come from? Her mom drop her off?” Jason asks, obviously trying to actually understand the situation.

“No. I first met her at the Museum and had my suspicions. She’s in Gotham on a class trip, and before you ask, yes. We had a DNA test done and yes, I am her father.” Bruce says, frowning when he sees Dick’s hurt expression morph into one of excitement.

“Wait, wait, wait! Was she the girl who was sassing the Joker?” He asks quietly, practically buzzing with excitement. When Bruce nods, Dick cheers and runs from the room. Okay then.

“Wait, she met the Joker?” Jason asks, his expression turning dark. Bruce watches his son’s face morph into one of disgust when he puts it together. “She’s the French kid he had at gunpoint, isn’t she?”

“Yes. Which is one of the reasons why we both thought the manor would be a more appropriate meeting place rather than somewhere public.” Bruce says, sighing as Damian once again starts screaming. This was not what he had planned.

---

After just a few minutes with Alfred, Marinette already felt calmer. Calm enough to giggle at another story about something that one of the boys- one of her brothers- did. Calm enough to let her guard down. And mess up.

“If you wanna see something ridiculous, you should look up the 26th time Monsieur Ramier was akumatized into Monsieur Pigeon. He made all the buildings turn into bird cages and all the food turned into bird seed. Luckily it didn’t last long, but seeing the Mayor of Paris stuck inside a giant bird cage was kind of hilarious.” Marinette rambles, giggling at the memory. It was definitely a needed akuma, situated right between two super destructive akumas. Monsieur Pigeon was, while a nuisance, always a breath of fresh air. His akumatized form was brought on by his fierce protectiveness of the pigeons, which luckily never led to death for civilians.

“Pardon me, Miss Marinette, but could I ask what you mean by ‘akumatized’?” Alfred asks, his posture suddenly stiff. Marinette’s eyes widen as she realizes what she just did. She told someone outside of Paris about the situation happening in Paris. Well crap. Normal Parisians didn’t know about the media block that she had set up with the help of the Mayor and Max. But after her calls to the Justice League were ignored, and she realized how disastrous it would be for a member of the League to be akumatized, the media block was the best choice. Time to act clueless.

“Akumatized, as in, a person is possessed by an akuma? Surely you’ve heard of it. It’s been happening in Paris for almost two years.” She says, hoping he doesn’t ask to see any evidence. This isn’t good, this is awful, this-

“And what is an akuma?” Alfred asks. Okay, this isn’t too bad.

“It’s an evil butterfly sent out by the villain, Hawkmoth.” Marinette says, giving out more information than she’s really comfortable with. Okay, time to change the subject, no more questions about heroes or villains or-

“Marinette!” A new voice calls, sliding into the kitchen, almost immediately falling over.

“Master Dick, have you forgotten about your ban on the kitchen?” Alfred asks, his lips quirking up in amusement.

“Awww, Alfred, I just wanted to talk to Marinette. I feel bad for all of us overwhelming her back there.” Dick says with a pout that somehow doesn’t look ridiculous on him. Despite obviously being at least ten years older than her.

“Don’t feel bad. It was just...a lot all at once.” Marinette says with a small smile.

“So I have to ask, are you the one who sassed the Joker at the Museum the other day?” He asks, a wide grin on his face as he sits on one of the stools. Marinette’s eyes widen and she blinks. How?

“Oh, uh, yeah, I guess. It wasn’t a big deal though. He thought I was a Wayne- well, I guess he figured it out before I did- but I think he just wanted to scare my class.” She says, waving her hand to brush off the topic. She really didn’t want to talk about the Joker. Because she was sure it would turn into-

“I apologize for asking, but have you been caught up in the villain attacks in Paris before?” Alfred asks, Marinette instantly panicking. Sure, she’d been caught up in almost every single akuma battle as Ladybug. But there were a few on record where she was targeted as Marinette, and even a few battles that she assisted as Marinette. And then there was Kwami Buster…

“Well, a few. But basically everyone in Paris has dealt with it at some point. That’s just what happens when there’s an attack so often, you know? And my school seems to be a hotspot but that makes sense because teenagers are full of negative emotions and-” Marinette cuts off her rambling, cursing herself on the inside. Great job, Mari. Now they’re going to be worried or they’re going to think you’re a freak or-

“What do you mean negative emotions? Why would that matter?” Dick asks, his previous cheerful smile replaced with a look that clearly meant business.

“That’s how the villain chooses his targets. Negative emotion. If someone is having a bad enough day, he can take control of them and give them powers and basically destroy the city trying to get to Ladybug and Chat Noir, who are our heroes. I only know what’s been posted on official sites like the Ladyblog or miraculousparis.org.” Marinette says, smiling apologetically and hoping that this conversation can be over.

“Have you ever been akumatized?” Dick asks, tension suddenly filling the room.

“No, thankfully. I’ve found ways to manage my negative emotions so that they can’t take me over. I don’t blame anyone who has been akumatized, it’s hard not to be. But, I also don’t think I’d be able to forgive myself if I was akumatized.” Because then her family would be a target. Because Hawkmoth would know her identity. And if Hawkmoth’s insistence on her being akumatized was anything to go on, she’d be a devastating akuma. And if Ladybug wasn’t fighting in the battle….would the cure even work?

“That is a lot of pressure, Miss Marinette.” Alfred says softly after a moment of tense silence. Marinette grins brightly.

“I can handle it, don’t worry!” She says, hoping no one can tell how hard it actually is. How hard it is constantly being strong. Never truly feeling a negative emotion.

---

Bruce winces at the faux cheerfulness in his daughter’s voice. He had only found out about the Paris situation a few days ago, but he was determined to fix it. Find a solution. Do something to help the city and by extension, his daughter. She’d be going back there soon. Back to a city that was being held hostage by an emotional terrorist. Bruce would fix this. He had to.

Next

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[mrs-gucci]

Adult Swim, Part 2 of 3 {Charlie Barber x virgin!Reader}

author’s notes: hello, hello! happy fourth of july to everyone celebrating. here’s part two of “adult swim” :) things are heating up, y’all!

warnings: smut. some fluff. making out. nose kink oops. over-the-clothes touching & oral (f receiving). handjob. some grinding. thigh-fucking.

(possible) tw’s: age difference. infidelity/extramarital affair. semi-public smut.

table of contents pt. one pt. two * pt. three

my taglist peeps: @frank-and-honey @shygirl268 @icarusinthesea​ ​@gildedstarlight @mrs-zimmerman​ @soldmysoulagain @roseepossee​ @pascalisfairyy​ (if you’d like to be added to or removed from my taglist, the link to the google form is HERE or on the top of my masterlist.)

(can we just take a moment of silence, dedicated to the masterpiece that is adam driver’s/charlie barber’s side profile? *drools*)

July.

You’ve come to dread Fourth of July weekend ever since you became a lifeguard. Although it’s a fun celebration, the pool stayed open much later than normal for the whole weekend, which meant that you had to work longer hours.

Sure, you liked cashing the overtime paycheck, and you always managed to get a few free meals out of the deal thanks to community members, but it was hard work. 

Luckily, this year, you had Charlie to help you through the long days. You couldn’t actually see him, not properly anyway, but he did come over and chat with you a few times for a bit while Nicole watched with a suspicious glare. 

Rain clouds have shrouded the sun’s warm glow and a bolt of lightening streaks across the gray sky, followed by a clap of thunder that rumbles the Earth. Everyone is forced to get out of the pool and sit under the covered patios until the rain and storm have passed over. 

You’re making your way towards the lifeguard’s lounge when a large hand holds your shoulder, effectively stopping you in your tracks. When you turn to look at who the hand is connected to, you smile.

“Mr. Barber.” You say, politely.

He nods. “Coach. Do you need to, uh...check on anything in the storage area?”

The breath catches in your throat as he looks into your eyes, sending a chill down your spine. You know what that look means...

“Now that you mention it, the manager asked me to check on the cleaning supply stock...” You say, a lopsided smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth. “You’re more than welcome to join me, if you’d like.”

He looks over his shoulder, happy to see that Nicole is deep in conversation with a group of other moms. 

“You had me at ‘now that you mention it’, coach.”

The two of you scurry off to the back storage area, which is basically just a cage with a roof, and Charlie immediately pins you against the wall. He kisses your neck while he grinds his pelvis against your lower stomach.

You move to jump up and wrap your legs around his waist, but he stops you. You look up at him with a furrowed brow.

“Wanna fuck your thighs today, coach.” He breathes against your neck. “Turn around and keep your legs together for me, alright?”

Nodding, you flip yourself around so that your front is now pressed up against the cage, making sure to keep your thighs together. You look over your shoulder as he begins untying his swim trunks.

“No peeking, Y/N. You know the rules: you’re not allowed to see me until I spread your legs and take your virginity.”

Your head turns back to its normal position and you hear him stroking himself behind you. You want nothing more than to see his cock, touch it, appreciate it; but alas, he won’t allow it.

His small grunts and groans are more erotic than they ought to be and you can feel the slick beginning to dampen your folds. He's standing at full attention, now, and he takes a step forward to press himself up against you. 

Your breath hitches as his thick length slides between your thighs, earning a small breathy grunt from the large man behind you. He lets out a shaky sigh before drawing back, then snapping his hips forward again.

“O-Oh, coach.” He breathes into your ear, hands planting next to the top of your head on either side. “Thaaaaaat’s good, so good.”

His little grunts and groans are music to your ears and, mixed with the smack-smack-smack of his skin colliding with yours, it’s an erotic symphony.

“We’ve gotta h-hurry. Storm’s gonna pass over s-soon.” You whisper.

Charlie nods, increasing his thrusting rhythm two-fold. He pants into your ear, one hand sliding down from the wall to wrap around your throat. 

“I’m gonna fuck your little virgin cunt so hard.” He growls, reaching down to grab your hip. “Gonna f-fuck you just like this, coach. Right after your pussy stretches out around my cock, I’m gonna fuck you nice and h-hard, make you cum.” 

You moan, biting your lip. “C-Charlie...fuck.”

“Ohhhhhhhhh, Y/N, I’m c-close. Gonna cum--” His hips come to an abrupt halt and he buries his face in the crook of your neck as he cums, a low groan muffled against your skin.

Your head tilts down just in time to see the liquid ropes erupt from between your legs and you can feel the way his length pulses before each rope shoots out.

He’s panting against your neck, planting the occasional open-mouthed kisses on your skin as he catches his breath. Once he regains control of his breathing, he tucks himself back into his swim trunks and turns you around, holding your hips.

“Sorry I didn’t have time to make you cum, coach. I’ll make it up to you next time, I promise.”

You shake your head, smiling up at him. “No apology necessary, Charlie. I still had a good time, regardless. You know I like helping you get off.”

Charlie bends down and presses a kiss to the tip of your nose, laughing softly when your face crinkles up. “You’re the best. Now, you should probably get back out there before anyone gets suspicious. I’ll hang back for a bit, have a cigarette or something.”

“See you soon, C.” You say before heading towards the door.

“You’ve never used that one before, coach.” He says, causing you to turn around.

“Oh, uh, yeah. It just sorta slipped out. Sorry.”

“No need.” His lips tug up into a smile. “I kinda like it.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The union between Charlie and Nicole has been noticeably shaken and strained as of late, you’ve noticed. You wonder if she somehow found out about you and Charlie.

Ever since the first private swim lesson, you and Charlie have been rendezvousing under the starlight on a weekly basis. Sure, there’s been some swimming involved, but it usually doesn’t last very long. He can’t keep his hands off you for more than about fifteen minutes at a time when you’re together.

It’s not just the physical connection; you and Charlie have incredibly compatible personalities, too. You get along really well and there’s a lot of natural chemistry between the two of you. You find yourself counting the minutes until the pool closes on lesson days, count the seconds until Charlie walks through the gate.

Tonight, you’re already in the pool when Charlie arrives, practicing your own technique. He sets his bag down on one of the loungers and watches as you make your way back down the lane in backstroke. He can’t help but look at your breasts, he’s got the perfect angle to look down your suit...

You flip back over and pull the goggles up over your head, smiling as you swim up and pull yourself onto the side of the pool.

“Hey, C.”

He smirks, walking over and jumping into the pool, swimming up to you with just his eyes above the surface. You giggle as he grabs hold of your ankles and lifts them up, forcing your upper body to fall back against the pool deck.

“Good evening, coach.”

His lips kiss and nibble at your ankle bones before trailing up your leg. Your skin erupts in goosebumps as his kisses draw closer and closer to your clothed center, which has already begun to heat up from his actions.

Your eyes never break away from his as he sucks at the tender flesh of your inner thighs, just at the hem of your bathing suit bottoms. You suck in a sharp breath when his nose lightly drags across your crotch, and his eyebrows raise.

“What was that, coach?” He asks, grinning to himself. “Did you...like something that I did, in particular?”

You’ve always sort of had a thing for Charlie’s nose, you have no idea why you found something so not traditionally sexy attractive, but now all you’re thinking about is how lovely it’d feel to have his nose bumping against your clit as he eats you out.

“Um, w-well, I--”

His nose swipes back over your crotch, cutting you off and replacing the rest of your response with a gasp. He grins wickedly.

“Oh, so that’s what you like.” A low chuckle escapes his lips.

He does it again, and again, nose dragging against your damp crotch. You’re practically dripping by now, the feeling and sight of him rubbing against you is simultaneously too much and not enough.

“Charlie...” You breathe, chewing your lip.

His finger comes up and teases your entrance over your suit, pushing some of the fabric in before letting it snap back into place. Your legs instinctively fall open further at his movements, eyes fluttering shut as his mouth hovers over your clothed crotch. 

He looks up at you, then. “You’re gonna cum just like this, coach, or you’re not gonna cum at all. Understood?”

You nod. “Y-Yes, Mr. Barber.”

The formality, the seeming innocence of that name always seems to drive him crazy and he grunts, quickly diving in. The tip of his aquiline nose swipes all around your covered folds while his lips and hot breath teases your center.

You’re embarrassingly close already, both the sights and sensations being created between your legs impossible to resist. You simply can’t bring yourself to peel your eyes away as he continues to bring you closer and closer to a soft release.

“Are you close already?” He asks with a smirk, eyes meeting yours.

Before you can respond, his finger presses up against your entrance, pushing in just a little bit and swirling around. You gasp at the feeling, hips naturally pushing down against him in an attempt to encourage him deeper inside.

“Mmm, look at that. You want to be filled so badly, don’t you, coach?” Charlie says, voice low. “You’re so fucking desperate, trying to impale your little virgin cunt further on my finger. You want someone else’s fingers shoved up your pussy, want to cum on fingers other than your own, isn’t that right?”

You nod, chewing your lip while your hips gyrate against his touch. “Y-Yeah, I want i-it.”

His finger pushes up just a little bit more, bathing suit fabric stretching as it’s shoved up inside your quivering arousal. Your back arches and your breath catches in your throat at his movement, suddenly thrust to the edge of climax.

“Charlie...” You breathe. “Please.”

He grins cockily, circling his fingertip inside you while he mouths at your clit and scrapes his teeth across the clothed bud. You cum only a few moments later, groaning shakily as your hips jerk erratically.

Once you’ve ridden it out completely, Charlie pulls away and covers your inner thighs in kisses. You sit up and run your hands through his hair, smiling down at him. 

“You’re incredible.”

Charlie smiles, tugging your legs, encouraging you into the shallow water. “C’mere, let me kiss you.”

You allow yourself to slide down into the water, reaching up to wrap your arms around the back of his neck as his lips crash down onto yours. His hands grab your ass and pull you against him, a small growl rumbling through his chest when his erection rubs against your lower stomach.

“Let me touch you, C-Charlie.”

His eyebrows raise and he pulls away, looking into your eyes. “You know the rules, kid...”

“I don’t have to see you to make you feel good. I promise I won’t look, I just...I want to t-touch you. I want to make you cum.”

He inhales sharply, biting his lip as he thinks it over. He can’t pretend that he hasn’t wanted this since he first met you, but the thought of not allowing you to see or touch him until he’s ready to take your virginity is incredibly arousing...

“Alright, but you can’t pull me out of my shorts. Got it?”

You nod eagerly, pressing your lips onto his once again. He scoops you up and walks you over to the underwater bench, setting you down gently. His hand cradles the back of your head, cushioning it from the harsh pool ledge as you pull at the tie of his swim trunks.

His jaw clenches tightly and his eyebrows knit when your hand wraps around the base, a shaky breath leaving his flared nostrils. He keeps his forehead pressed against yours as you begin to stroke him slowly, breath hot on your lips.

“I-Is this okay?” You ask quietly.

He simply nods, back hunching and buttocks clenching as his hips begin to thrust forward in time with your pumps. His eyes squeeze shut, growling and mewling softly with each flick of your wrist.

“Ohhhhh god, Y/N, I...it’s b-been a while since someone’s tttttouched me like this. Your little h-hand ffffeels so nice.”

Your lips pull up into a small smile, flattered that he likes your touch so much. You reach up with your spare hand, spreading it out across the back of his head, pulling him down for another kiss.

Charlie fulfills your silent wish, moving his lips against yours. He disconnects a minute later, a line of sweat gathering at his hairline as his thrusts become more and more desperate and full of need.

“J-Jesus, I’m gonna cum s-soon, can’t last a-any longer.” He groans shakily, reaching down to grab your wrist, halting your touches. “Quick, l-lay back on the d-deck.”

You nod, hopping up out of the water and laying back, allowing enough room for him to get on top of you. His hand moves quickly on his cock as he climbs up and positions himself on top of you.

His hand grips your jaw, tilting your head up while he tugs his shorts down enough to expose his pulsing length. He begins grinding his bare cock against the fabric covering your stomach.

“Look at me, Y/N. I’m gonna--fuuuck--gonna c-cover your belly in m-my hot cum, s-stain your fuuucking b-bathing ssssuit. Are y-you ready?”

Right after you nod, his hips suddenly rut roughly against your stomach and he groans loudly, spurts of warm milky seed spreading across your torso. He snarls, grip tightening around your jaw as he cums all over you. His eyes never close or break your gaze, pupils blown wide with lust and arousal.

Seeing Charlie coming undone above you is a sight you make sure to commit to memory, not wanting to forget the way his face contorted in pleasure, the way his hips bucked against you, the sounds that fell from his pillowy lips. 

You’re convinced that there are little other sights more beautiful and erotic than the one you’ve just witnessed.

He lets go of your jaw and tucks himself back into his trunks while his lips leave open-mouthed kisses all over your face and throat. You sigh softly when he pulls away and stands up, already missing his presence on top of you.

“Sorry about the stain.” His eyes dart down to the dark red stain on your suit.

You shake your head, sitting up. “No worries. The chlorine will help.”

Charlie’s eyebrows furrow and you chuckle, standing up in front of him.

“You heard me right, Mr. Barber. I’m swimming along with you tonight. We’ll see how you hold up against a competitor.”

He smirks, reaching around to land a playful swat on your ass. “Try to catch me, coach.”

You gasp as he quickly turns around and leaps into the water, beginning to swim towards the lanes. You laugh, following behind.

“Oh, it is so on!”

⇠previous⇠ ⇢next⇢

[yoonjinkooked]

Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien | Jimin

moodboard by the lovely and amazing @flajka, who was also my #1 helper and support through the torturous 10 month journey that this story was. 

Pairing: Jimin / Reader

Rating: 18+

Genre: Strangers to lovers, smut, romcom

Warnings: explicit sex, slight exhibitionism (fingering, out in the open but not in public, boat sex, oral (f and m receiving) brief but gory painting description, a lot of cursing, Jimin will end you Word Count: 19k+  Summary: You keep meeting a handsome stranger in Paris. One coincidence after another leads to the most amazing trip of your life A/N: This shit took 10 months to write. Thank @flajka, Kehlani and Jimin’s sexy Paris photos.  Spotify playlists for this fic are: 1 / 2 / 3  - I had to separate them because you can’t put Edith Piaf on the same playlist as Ace Of Base.  Hope you enjoy! 

Looking up from the screen of your phone, you blink once, twice, three times – you are not where you are supposed to be and Google maps are the stupidest invention ever.

It took you two hours to find your Airbnb apartment yesterday, all because Google maps were not quite user friendly. Not to mention that your sense of direction was utterly pathetic.

Yet despite all of that, you were absolutely positive that finding ‘Shakespeare and company’ would be an easy task – after all, you were so close to it, having just spent 10 minutes mourning the fact that the Notre-Dame was still very much unapproachable. From there to the bookstore, the route should have been easy to follow but alas, it was not. Somehow, you have managed to confuse yourself even further.

Looking around in place, you breathe a sigh of relief when you see the green doors and a sign that tells you that perhaps your sense of direction isn’t as bad as you think it is – ‘Shakespeare and Company’.

There it is, the bookstore with such rich history, one of your must-see places in Paris, something that the ‘Midnight in Paris’ lover in you had to tick off the list – there it is, right before you and very much closed. You check the time, finding that it is almost nine – a quick Google search, which is something you should have done before leaving your apartment – tells you that it opens up at half past nine.

You don’t have time, you absolutely don’t have time to sit around and wait for it to open. It’s going to take you some time to reach the 7th Arrondissement and once you do get there, two museums await. Wasting time, waiting for a bookstore to open is not a luxury you can afford right now.

Perhaps you will have time before you leave. After all, you still have a week to spend in the city of light and although your plans are pretty strict and well-organized, you are aware that some changes are bound to happen. But you will leave that for the last day – right now, you only have a few minutes of your life to offer to a closed bookstore.

As you take photos of the famed location, you recall the comments your mother made before you left, about how a young woman shouldn’t travel alone in a foreign country. She had a point – one shouldn’t travel alone if they want to have at least one photo of themselves on the memory card. It sucks a bit but you don’t let it dampen your mood – you don’t need photos to preserve the memories. A selfie stick was always an option but it was also beneath you – something you’ve decided when they first appeared.

“Is it closed?” a voice asks from behind you, making you jump a bit, as you weren’t aware that you had company. The man looking at you seems to be about your age and a tourist, if the camera around his neck is anything to go by. The brief once-over you give him lets you know he is also unnaturally attractive.

“Yeah,” you tell him, offering him a compassionate smile when you see his expression sour. “It should open soon though – about half an hour, if Google is correct.”

“Thanks for the info,” he smiles, before he lifts up his camera and starts taking photos. You realize that the chit-chat is over, so you resume taking photos as well. Just a few seconds later, his presence gave you an idea.

“Hey, would you mind taking a photo of me?” you ask sheepishly, smiling when he nods his head at once. “I’m travelling alone and I just want at least one photo of me in the folder, you know?”

“I can relate,” he chuckles as he takes the camera from you. “How do you want to take it? Casually touristy, right in front of it or artsy, with you looking up at the sign in awe?”

“Artsy,” he laughs at your immediate response, to which you simply shrug. “When will I be artsy if not in Paris?”

“Touché,” he agrees, before directing you so that he can take a decent shot. “Turn a bit to the left.”

A few seconds later, it’s his turn. After settling your own camera around your neck, you take his and take a few photos of him as he stands in the same spot you did, looking up at the sign in fake awe. This gives you a chance to properly look at him for the first time. He is indeed handsome, insanely so. Dark brown hair swept away from his face, insanely clear skin and a jaw that could cut right through glass. Looking right at him is almost blinding and you rush to take the photos.

“All done,” you smile as you return the camera to him. “I think you have a few decent shots there.”

“Thanks,” he smiles as you adjust your backpack, ready to take your leave – Shakespeare will have to enjoy your company some other day. “Enjoy the rest of Paris.”

“Yeah, you too,” you smile back at the man, mumbling under your breath as you leave because it serves you right to meet the most handsome man ever half-way across the world.

By the time you finally escape the Parisian metro, you are dead tired. Musée Rodin was just as beautiful as ‘Midnight in Paris’ made it seem to be. You’ve spent the good part of the morning roaming it’s gardens, before finally moving onto Les Invalides, which housed the tomb of the oh so great Napoleon Bonaparte. That was arguably less exciting than Musée Rodin, with you actually giving up on it completely as soon as you saw his tomb. The comments you thought of while admiring the size of the tomb and him obviously carrying his complexes into afterlife were left to you alone, making you chuckle at random times and earning a few curious looks from your fellow tourists.

Your tourist escapades ended at Champ de Mars, with an impromptu picnic which included sitting on your jacket and eating a marvelous French feast made up from pre-packaged Starbucks caramel macchiato and salt&vinegar chips – mmm, so French it hurts. Originally, you wanted to wait for the infamous light show to start but after just an hour, you have already given up and made your leave, hoping not to get lost in the metro yet again.

Luckily, you didn’t. You were so tired by the time you got to the place you rented in the outskirts of Paris that you barely had the energy to shower. And tomorrow, with Versailles being your top priority, your day was bound to be even more tiring.

You are fuming, absolutely fuming, wanting nothing more than to curse out loud and stomp on the ground. You have been tricked and that was just the drop that made the glass overflow.

You woke up with a massive headache and after forcing yourself to eat a bit, you could finally drink medication. By the time you were ready to leave your rental apartment, the timetable you made for today was already long forgotten – you’re at least an hour late.

But that isn’t a problem. It’s not even the ever confusing metro, because somehow, with a lot of help from locals, you’ve managed to figure out where you should wait for the right ride to Versailles. All of it was a bit stress inducing but definitely not a problem. The real problem occurred when you were in front of the magnificent golden gates, which you couldn’t even see because of the massive line.

Clutching your fast pass ticket, you approach a smaller line leading to the entrance, hoping and praying that you weren’t wasting your time waiting there instead of in the massive crowd, hoping that your fast pass can actually let you pass, fast.

You were mistaken. Apparently, every single human being waiting in the long ass line also had the fast pass ticket. How long do people without a fast pass have to wait is a question you don’t even want to know the answer to. With a few huffs and puffs, you took your place in line, annoyed at anything and everything, starting from the stupid agency who sold you this worthless ticket, right down to your best friend who suggested taking this trip together, only to bail on you to let her boyfriend take her to Ibiza.

As if all of that was not enough to ruin your mood, rain had started to fall, damping your clothes enough so that they match your mood.  At least you were ready for it, having read up about the unpredictable early summer rains of Paris and making sure to never leave the apartment without your hideously yellow umbrella.

An hour and a half later, you finally put the damn fast pass into use and enter the extravagant home of some Louis – you’re not ashamed to admit to not know which one. After all, you were about to learn.

The inside of the magnificent palace left you with mixed emotions, in all honesty. On one hand, it truly is as grand and striking as you had always imagined it to be. On the other hand, the crowd was killing you. Teens running around and touching things they shouldn’t be touching, people looking at everything through the screen of their phones and cameras instead of actually looking… It all left you feeling a bit on edge and wishing you had a chance to attend a private tour or something. Knowing that you will probably experience the same thing later today in the Louvre wasn’t helping either.

Every time you would pass a window, you found yourself wanting to be outside and after an hour of torture and not being able to enjoy anything, you have finally given up – fuck the rain, fuck it all – most people are still inside to avoid the rain after all and you do have your trusted umbrella with you.

Stepping into the gardens of Versailles was the best decision you could have made and you regretted not making it sooner. There were very few people outside and even the light drizzle could not ruin the experience of such a beautiful place. It’s fascinating, really, to look from the balcony above and to not see the end to all the gardens, green labyrinths, with many fountains and statues placed at nearly every corner.

It was almost impossible for you to decide where to start, so you just decided to roam freely, with no end goal in mind. You don’t even bother with your camera much, once you reach the seemingly endless green maze. The view from higher ground is magnificent but as you walk around, all you see is green hedges, incredibly tall green hedges – a very literal maze of plants. The smell is comforting – a mixture of the familiar smell of rain and of plants – more specifically, grass.

You wander around, enjoying the peace and quiet. There are more people in the maze but they are far from you and compared to the crowd you were in just minutes ago, they are ignorable, unless they are heading directly in your direction.

You recognize him instantly – other than a few locals you’ve asked for directions, he is the only person you exchanged more than one sentence with – it’s the guy from ‘Shakespeare and Company’, walking towards you. Your fear of awkwardness makes you lower the umbrella so that you can pretend that you simply didn’t see him. You only lift the umbrella up when you see his feet walk by you.

It would be weird and awkward. What do you say to someone you recognize but don’t really know? Hey? What if he doesn’t remember you and you embarrass yourself for no good reason? No, this was completely ignorable, luckily for you.

You are not fast enough the second time. The next crossroad in the maze leaves you making eye contact with him, as he is standing parallel to you, with a solid distance in-between. Solid enough for you to still pretend you do not recognized him. The eye contact made you feel a bit uneasy because what if he remembers you too? The awkwardness you’ve wanted to avoid might have just doubled.

So you walk on, taking a left turn as soon as you find one, finding the first ‘hidden room’ of the maze and a breathtaking, extravagant fountain that all but begs for you to take photos of it. Consciously steering away from the direction he seemed to have been taking, you walk along.

Left, straight, left again, straight, a bit to the right – you even manage to lose track of your surroundings, hoping that you are heading towards the gigantic fountain you’ve seen from the upper balcony.

Yet somehow, you still manage to see him again and much to your dismay, make direct eye contact. He is standing parallel from you and before you turned around and started walking, you could see what looked like mild confusion on his face.

Crap. He must have recognized you to a certain extent and now you’re making it painfully obvious that you are running away from him. For no good reason, too. You could have simply said “Oh hey, I remember you from yesterday, enjoy Versailles” or something along that line and made your exit but no, god no, you just had to make a fool of yourself.

You’ve never taken pride in your title of awkward social potato and this little mishap has to rank pretty high on your list of embarrassing moments. Sure, weird eye contact isn’t that big of a deal but the fact that it could have been easily avoid it and wasn’t only makes it 10 times worse.

Surprisingly enough, as soon as you realize that you’re being ridiculous, you have a chance for a do-over.

By the time you’ve reached the grand fountain, with a very confusing yet majestic statue of horses in the middle of it, you see him again, standing right on the edge of it, luckily not looking your way. Once again you are reminded of just how good looking he is and it’s not helping you with what you are about to do, since insanely attractive men tend to make you nervous and tongue tied.

“Well, at least the Versailles was open,” you try to sound as casual as possible as you stand a few feet away from him, watching as confusion disappears from his face as he puts two and two together.

“I thought I recognized you,” he laughs and you realize that his laughter is as melodic as his voice. Damn him. “They opened yesterday minutes after you left,” he tells you and to that you shrug.

“Nine days in Paris aren’t enough – I had museums to see,” you tell him, watching as he nods in understanding, still smiling at you. “I hope you enjoyed it, though.”

“I did,” he tells you. “Since you’re here, would you mind taking a photo of me?” he sounds as sheepish as you did yesterday. “You’re the only stranger I’d trust with my camera,” he adds. He makes a simple sentence like that hit you like a full force flirt and by the time you actually take the camera from his hands, you are positive you are blushing.

You take a few photos of him, his insanely good profile in particular, hoping that you are not drooling all over yourself. “Return the favor?” you ask, lifting your own camera, to which he laughs and extends his hand to you.

Posing is always awkward, period. Posing to a hot stranger is borderline traumatic. You do it anyways, looking away from the camera because you’ve had enough “eye contact” with him to last you a lifetime. Awkwardly standing in front of him, you wait as he checks the photos before smiling up at you and offering the camera back to you. “Perfect.”

“Thanks. Enjoy the rest of Versailles,” you casually announce your departure, feeling relieved and regretful at the same time as you walk away from him, backwards. In all honesty, the kind smile on your face made you want to stick around for a while longer.

“Thanks, you too.”

You turn around and walk away, taking a deep breath to relax yourself. The Louvre awaits – hot strangers will have their turn some other time.  

Four days in Paris were enough for you to start your own list of unpopular, maybe even popular, opinions about the city. You were always interested in the city but never obsessed with it, like many are, so you’d say that your opinions are unbiased, at least to a certain extent.

For example, Parisians are nice and they actually do make an effort to speak English if you ask them something. Of course, not everyone has the same experience but the urban myth of them being condescending, rude and downright ignoring people who speak English was proven to be false.

Yes, the city is gorgeous but it has so much to offer beside a fairly tall tower.

And last, but certainly not least – the Louvre is overrated.

After waiting in rain, again (not the museum’s fault, obviously), you finally got inside, only to proceed and get lost four times. Actual four times, you had no idea where you were and where you were supposed to go next. You were nearly trampled in front of the Mona Lisa, all while watching in shock as the people were pushing each other to try and take a selfie with the iconic painting behind them. That was the first instance when you thought how much you hate people. The next one was when you saw a grown adult, a man in his 30s, grabbing an antique Greek statue by the balls.

It was at that point that the museum walking became torture to you. Paired with its confusing layout and the employees who either truly had no idea how to help you or simply didn’t want to bother with helping a pesky tourist, you ended up wandering aimlessly, looking at everything and nothing at all, wondering how much it would cost to get an exclusive, chaperoned, after-hours tour of the Louvre. Probably too much for someone who’s keeping cheap ramen in their rented apartment.

Muse d’Orsay, your present location, is something else entirely. It is painfully obvious that at least a third of the yesterday’s crowd only went to the Luvre because someone told them they should, you overheard a few say as much, and compared to that, the visitors of Muse d’Orsay came here on their own accord. It is decently full, but not crowded. The only place where you actually had to wait in line was in front of Van Gogh’s artwork, which was to be expected.

The entire place is casual, yet sophisticated, far less confusing compared to the gigantic mess that is The Louvre. You can take your time and go wherever, without having to consult a map and pray that you’re not confusing yourself even further. You can also sit and relax for a little while, which is something your tired feet are extremely grateful for but in a very unusual way, the people around you are making you feel uncomfortable. Most of them are casually sitting and sketching the gigantic clock, the centerpiece of Muse d’Orsay and while observing that is beautiful, it also remindes you that you are, to put it nicely, talentless in the same field.

So you keep on roaming, until you find your place on a bench set before an enormous painting. Definitely three times, if not four, your height, The Women of Gaul has your full attention. The piece is as eerie and hauntingly beautiful as it is confusing – like many times over the last couple of days, you’re not sure where to look first. What catches your attention, bizarrely, is the center character – a woman, standing tall and proud with an angry look on her face and holding a dead baby by the arm.

It appears as if she has killed the baby on her own accord – she’d rather lose everything she has than surrender. Admirable and scary at the same time. With all due respect to the masterpiece, she looks ready to bitchslap some soldiers.

“We meet again, stranger,” you only realize someone is talking to you when they sit a few feet away from you and you nearly choke on dry air when you realize it’s him – the Shakespeare guy, the Versailles guy, your unofficial photographer, in all of his ripped jeans glory.

“Wow,” you laugh. How big is Paris? How many people live here, how many tourists roam the streets every day? And yet three days in a row, you see him. “We keep bumping into each other.”

“Looks like our travel itineraries keep overlapping,” he chuckles. “I’m Jimin, by the way,” he adds, before the silence turns awkward. “It’s nice to officially meet you,” he offers you his hand, which you accept instantly.

“Y/N,” you shake his hand. “So, how’s Paris working out for you?”

“I love it,” he admits, looking away from you to focus on the much less friendlier woman in the painting in front of you. “I like it more than I thought I would, in all honesty.”

“Same here,” you admit, finding it quite easy to talk to him, given that you are usually definitely more apprehensive when it comes to people you don’t know. But hey, you know his name now – that counts, right? “From word of mouth alone, I thought it was a bit overrated but it has its charms. Plenty of them, actually.”

“Museums or city streets?” he asks, turning to look at you again. He has striking, dark eyes that have no trouble looking directly at yours – you, on the other hand, swallow a lump. “Which do you enjoy more?”

“A bit of both, depends on the day,” you sound way more casual than you feel. “You?”

“City streets,” he answers, focusing on the painting again. “Art is amazing but art is art, wherever you are. While cities… they’re all different. Each city has its own thing and as much as I enjoy looking at artwork, I’d rather pick… exploring the city, breathing it in. Polluted air and all.”

“Makes sense,” you agree, knowing just how right he is. A museum is a museum, whether it’s in Paris or the tiniest of towns. It’s fascinating but it’s still a building with four walls and a roof – outside, the streets, the people, the charm distinct to each city – that’s where all the fun is at.

“Have you seen the impressionism area?” he asks.

“Not yet, why?”

“Me neither,” he laughs, confusing you a bit. “Travelling alone is fun but at times it can get painfully dull. I thought maybe you’d want to look around the museum a bit more and then we can go somewhere?”

Oh. Okay. He wants your company. Surprising, yet flattering.

“I’d love to,” you find yourself answering, ignoring all the possible red flags you probably should have not ignored – after all, this is fairly similar to the plot of Taken, and you don’t have a Liam Neeson waiting to rescue you. Mr. Ripped Jeans Jimin has a point – travelling alone can be very dull. With how the two of you have been running into each other for days now, it seems like the universe wants you to have someone to talk to for a while. “Anywhere you’d like to go in particular?”

“Montmartre?” he suggests after considering your question for a few seconds. “The stairs in front of Sacré-Cœur are always a good idea?”

He isn’t wrong - Sacré-Cœur is very much on your bucket list – scheduled for tomorrow, right on time to see the sunset. But at the same time, you have no specific plans for this afternoon and Jimin does seem like he could be good company.

Why not?

“Sounds like a plan,” you agree, feeling a metaphorical punch to your gut when his face lights up once you agree with his idea. “Let’s see those impressionists first, shall we?”

The language barrier is quite something. Despite knowing a few basic French words and phrases, your pronunciation is so damn tragic, no transaction was possible without the use of English and sometimes, like right now, lots of waving and pointing.

Jimin was looking at you in amusement while you desperately tried to explain that you need one chocolate croissant. By the point the lady behind the counter understood what you wanted, you were more than happy to leave with whatever the hell she’d give you, even if it’s not your precious croissant.

“Do you want something? Are you hungry?” you ask, wanting to treat him to some food since he insisted on paying for the bottle of wine that is currently in his backpack.

He nods, proceeding to speak to state his order in what sounds like fluent French. “I got some for you too,” he tells you as he elegantly stands in front of you, taking out his wallet and smiling as he sees that you are about to protest. “No way,” he shakes his head. “I’m paying – I ordered more. Besides, if you are buying the chocolate croissant, you obviously have no idea what you’re doing.”

A comment like that could have sounded extremely condescending coming from anyone else, but from Jimin, with his kind smile? No way. “You did not just diss a chocolate croissant!”

“Oh, yes I did,” he chuckles as he rushes to offer money before you can – defeated, but a little glad, you return your wallet into the bag, thinking how maybe you will treat yourself to more than instant ramen for your lunch tomorrow. “I love chocolate as much as the next guy but the raisin one? Hell, even the plain one – much better,” he tells as he takes the bag and exits the bakery, leaving you to follow him.

“I’m all for experimenting but come on – it’s a chocolate croissant. It can’t be bad.”

“I’ve never said it was bad,” he laughs at you as you finally catch up with him and the two of you walk side by side. “I’ve just said others were better, which you will confirm once you try them. Now – do we walk or do we waste money on the lift?”

How can a question so simple be so complicated? Your feet hurt, you’ve walked more since you landed in Paris than you have the whole last month – of course you want to take the lift and avoid unnecessary stairs. On the other hand, stairs pretty much guarantee that you will have more time to spend with Jimin and so far, he’s been a decent companion.

“How about… we take the lift to go up and we walk on our way down?” you suggest.

“Deal.”

He didn’t have a chance to see Montmarte either, he tells you on your way up. Much like you, he had a schedule and he kept to it. Until today, when he spontaneously dropped his plans and invited you to spend the rest of the day with him. You did not have solid plans to begin with, so it wasn’t much of a change, save from the fact that you were in good company.

And good company he was – surprisingly, there weren’t many moments of awkward silence as the two of you tried to find a place that fits you both – that was a challenge, seeing as many people have gathered to enjoy the view, a nice drink and an impromptu performance by buskers. In the corner of the stairs, a little bit away from the crowd, the two of you sit and it’s a matter of seconds before Jimin is opening the bottle of wine with a swiss knife he pulled out of his bag – a bag that looks like it costs more than your monthly rent – not that you were paying any attention to it.

“So…” he starts, pausing to smile at you as he gives you your cup, before moving on to fill his own. “Tell me something about yourself. I only know your name and that we live in the same city.”

“And yet somehow we’ve met on a different continent,” you add, smiling when he ‘clinks’ his plastic cup against yours. “What would you like to know?”

“Anything,” he shrugs, nodding in approval at the taste of the wine. “Why Paris? Why alone? What’s your favorite color? An actor you hate but can’t explain why? Tell me anything.”

“Why Paris? Why not Paris? There are so many places I want to see, cities I want to explore and it all had to start somewhere. My friend had wanted to see Paris while I was pretty much up for anything. Of course, she then decided that Ibiza with her boytoy sounds like a better idea than Paris with her friend,” you add, sounding just a little bitter. It’s not the nicest thing she has done but you’ll get over it.

“And your boyfriend was not interested in the beauty of France?”

Now you are confused. His raised eyebrow and tiny, barely there smile, tell you that he is absolutely asking about your boyfriend for no other reason but to confirm whether or not you have one. However, this wouldn’t be the first time for you to completely misread signs and confuse flirting with casual conversation. You decide to play it safe and not waste time on reading between the lines.

“Don’t have one,” you shrug, looking away from him and focusing on the buskers. “It does get quite boring after a while. It would be nice to have a travel partner.”

“And if you don’t, you can always ask a random, kind stranger to take your photos for you?” you join in on his laugh, glad that you spoke up that day in front of ‘Shakespeare and Company’. If you hadn’t, chances are you wouldn’t have a conversation in Versailles, which then would not continue today.

If he can do it, so can you – the can of worms is wide open. “And what does your girlfriend say about you traveling without her?” you asks, before backtracking quickly. “Or boyfriend. Or one of each, really,” you add, making him laugh.

God, there really is no smooth way to ask about the relationship status of someone you barely know, someone you’re not even completely sure you like. If two are at a club, where the music is loud and they can’t even keep a conversation, ‘are you single’ is completely acceptable. And that setting is perfect for a rejection – if they say no, you just dance away to your drink or to the next person.

This? It’s a warm day in Paris and you are surrounded by people of all ages, families even. You have been talking about the city, travelling, art and now what, ‘are you single’ or ‘would you be interested in sleeping with me’ is the next topic of conversation? No, it doesn’t work that way. Especially when you’re not even sure what you want, much less what he wants.

“Well, I don’t have either of the two so I can’t really answer that,” is that a hint of a smirk you see on his face? Okay, you may not be a champion at flirting but it looks like things are heading that way.

“Interesting,” you mumble, earning an eyebrow raise from him. Shit. You panic and focus on the plastic cup full of wine, hoping that if you drink enough of it fast, the blush that is taking over your face can be attributed to the alcohol. It doesn’t help – you move the cup away and meet his eyes, only to find him obviously waiting for you to explain your comment.

“Are you going to explain why that’s interesting on your own or should I ask about it and force you to elaborate?” he asks and you immediately turn to your cup, making him laugh, loudly, in a way that makes his eyes crinkle and his whole body move.

“I’m awkward, please don’t make it any worse,” you tell him, a part of you hoping he won’t hear you.

“As you wish,” he is still laughing and you still want to die of embarrassment. That being said, him teasing you is a good sign, you think. Now, you’re fairly certain that you absolutely are in the flirting territory and while that doesn’t make things easier for you one bit, at least now you know you perhaps won’t make a fool of yourself if you are more straightforward. Or maybe you will. Who knows?! “Y/N, do you believe in destiny?” he asks and while you’re glad the topic is changed… really?

“That’s such a broad question,” you chuckle, pausing to think about it for a second. “I suppose I do, but you’re going to have to be a bit more specific than that. What kind of destiny?”

“Okay… first, do you believe that it’s all planned out? Like, your entire life?” he asks.

“Hardly,” you answer immediately, having thought about that already, many times in your life. “I suppose that to a certain extent, it is destiny. Like… the situations that you will be put in. But your reactions to said situations are your own. Destiny can’t control how you, or the people in your life, react to something. So I guess… no?” you try to sum it up, laughing at your own rant.

“Makes sense,” he agrees as he leans back, now almost lying down on the staircase, propped on his elbow as he looks away from you and towards the magnificent view of Paris. You realize once again that he looks like a full course meal, skinny jeans and all, and you reach for your plastic cup for solace, again. “Some things are set in stone… like where you’re born, who your parents are, maybe even who you’re going to be in life. But not the tiny details… like what kind of friend you are, if you can cook or not, who will be your first kiss and so on… Is that what you meant?” he asks, suddenly turning his eyes on you and faced with them, you nearly choke on the drink you’ve been hiding behind.

Damn him and his eyes. And his smirk. And yes, his ripped skinny jeans too.

“Yeah, something like that.”

“And what about us?” he asks, smirking your way again. “We’ve been running into each other all over Paris… that’s why I thought that there has to be a reason behind it… don’t you agree?”

“Could be,” you agree, knowing that no matter how skeptical you might be about the concept of destiny, even you have to admit that the amount of times the two of you have crossed paths this week is something unusual. “You think it was destined for two of us to meet and hang out on these stairs?”

“Why not?” he laughs, sensing the trace of skepticism behind your words, even though you mostly agreed with him. “I can accept that not every cute girl I meet is destiny playing its tune but we couldn’t have avoided each other even if we tried, could we?”

You’re cute. Okay. You can live with that. You can definitely live with that.

“What else does destiny want us to do?”

You’ll admit it, you feel bolder now, knowing how shamelessly he had admitted that he obviously thinks you’re cute. Sure, you’re not nearly as bold as you wish you were but… step by step?

“Well, there’s this party down at the 8th Arrondissement that I thought of going to. Nothing huge, just a regular club. We don’t have to, if you don’t feel like partying. If you do, we can sit here for a while longer and then take a cab down there or something?” he suggests.

First he thinks you’re cute. Then he wants you to go clubbing. Sure, he isn’t hitting on you per se, but he obviously wants to spend more time with you and knowing that makes you feel like you’ve won the lottery. Maybe it’s the butterflies that you’re feeling now, after ages of them being MIA, maybe it’s the way Jimin looks at you, with the tiniest of smirks gracing his face, or maybe it’s just Jimin himself – you’re not sure and frankly, it doesn’t matter. Bottom line is, he wants to spend more time with you and despite you not really giving a shit about destiny, you do want to spend more time with him too.

“Sounds like a good idea.”

And then he goes and bites his lip, mid-smile.

Yeah, there’s no way in hell you’ll survive clubbing with him. But you’ll be damned if you don’t try.

It didn’t take you long to realize that Jimin is a piece of work, in the best ways.

He is confident when approaching strangers, whether it was you, earlier today, or a random person to ask if the two of you could join their table. He can handle his drink and he does, in fact, drink quite a bit. His behavior doesn’t change – he’s still smiley, friendly, his words never slurring, his walk as perfect and sexy as it was when he was 100% sober – the only real change in his appearance is that three tequila shots in, he’s red in the face.

You? You’ve stopped drinking one shot ago, not wanting to push yourself into the state of ‘please fuck me in the alley behind this park, Mr. Stranger’ because you do tend to turn clingy after drinking a bit too much. No, this time around, you’ve kept yourself tipsy enough to throw away some inhibitions but sober enough to not jump on the guy in the middle of a crowded club.

And lord almighty, it is crowded.

You would have never thought that Parisians and a couple of tourists would be this into 90s trash music but here you are, dancing the night away with a hot as hell stranger to the tune of ‘Be My Lover’. You’ve been dancing nonstop for what feels like hours, the only break happening when he goes to the bar to get the two of you drinks and you take that chance to lean against the wall to catch your breath.

You want to chastise yourself for trusting a stranger with your drink but after debating it while you were still sober, you’ve come to the conclusion that you’re going to trust said stranger. 

Taking a deep breath, you rummage through your bag, trying to find something to cool yourself down with, settling for a brochure you had picked up in Musée d'Orsay earlier today. You fan yourself, staying comfortably away from the crowd that’s dancing like their life depends on it.

It’s hot, it’s crowded, you’re tipsy and if you’re being completely honest, you’re turned on. Yes, in a tiny, dark, hole of a club, with a 90s eurodance song in Spanish blasting through the speakers, you can still manage to feel that way and it’s solely because of him.

For the past two hours, he has been flirting with you in ways that make you wonder if he’s actually flirting of he’s a hallucination of your deranged mind.

He hasn’t stopped touching you all night, but he does so in ways that are not… obvious. He holds your hand while you are walking through the crowd. He puts his hands on your waist while you’re dancing, but they’re positioned in a way that makes you think he just enjoys having a dance partner, not that he wants to fuck your brains out. He is close, but not close enough to make you wonder if maybe, just maybe, he wants to kiss you. It’s driving you insane and you’re feeling hot – literally and metaphorically.

The song changed to something a bit more bearable for listening, but still trashy enough, when you finally felt your body relaxing and calming down after the onslaught of senses it has been through in the last two hours. However, the moment you think you’ll manage to cool your head, you see him.

It’s not that he is hot. Sure, he is hot as hell and nice on the eyes, which is something you see others noticing, as they turn their heads while he walks past them, drinks in hand. It’s not that he is so damn charming, although that plays a part too. What’s really getting to you is simply the way he looks at you.

Even now, in the crowd, as he makes his way to your little makeshift hideaway, his eyes are directly on you. He’s not even paying attention on if he’s spilling your drinks or not – nope, he is looking right at you. And despite the feeling of panic that causes, you can’t look away. You can’t hide from it, you can’t fight it – you just have to keep eye contact with him, even though you feel like weak prey.

You’d lie if you say that there weren’t moments when his eyes would look… elsewhere. Your lips, your neck or at the tiny trace of cleavage your shirt lets him see (is that one a blessing or a curse?)…  That you could deal with, as much as you were figuratively on fire. But a man with confidence to look you directly in the eyes, all the time? Yeah, you’ve kind of wanted die.

Especially now, with him sliding through the cracks between people, smiling your way, eyes burning into yours. With mere seconds to get yourself ready for him, you take a deep breath, thanking your lucky stars that he looked away, enough to put your drinks on the table next to you.

“I know you didn’t want anything, but I got you a cocktail in case you change your mind later,” he tells you and the only reason you actually understand every word he is saying is because you are staring at his lips. The music is loud, loud enough to make you want to come closer to him and ask him to repeat his words but at this point, you are a certified lip reader because good god, his lips.

“That’s okay.”

You wanted to say more, you really did, but the moment he put those drinks down, his hands were on your waist and he was close now, closer than he was before, with just an inch of space between your face and his. And even this close, even with a damn inch between the two of you, he stares into your eyes, directly into your eyes, as if he knows what he’s doing to you. And frankly, he most likely does.

“Let’s dance, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You let him take you down into the crowd again, not even noticing the loss of your precious brochure you’ve used as a makeshift fan. You let him stay close to you and you let him keep his hands on you at all times. You let him take over your entire mind, knowing that at this point, you can’t think of anything that isn’t him.

Where? Where are guys like these? Where are guys who are confident, funny, charming and sexy, without trying to get into your pants like desperate teenagers? He has the right amount of everything and a part of you wonders where are others like him? But with him in front of you, directly in front of you, with barely an inch of thin air between you, does it really matter?

You’ve given up, totally and completely. You let him eat you up with his eyes, sway your hips to the beats of bad music in any direction he wants, smiling back at him when he smiles at you.

He is closer now, even closer than before, your noses brushing against each other every other moment. He is closer and you feel like you’re going to faint if he doesn’t do something, anything really.

It’s a weird feeling to describe. You don’t know what you want but you want it, bad. And while in theory, it would be easy to take the last step and just kiss him, you can’t do it. What’s stopping you – you don’t know, you really don’t. Yes, he hasn’t explicitly said that he wants you to do anything but his actions speak enough on their own. You could close the space between the two of you and end the misery but you can’t. Something is stopping you and at this point, it feels suffocating.

All of it. Him, the crowd, the sweaty bodies all around you – it’s too much. You need fresh air. Right now.

“What time is it?” you yell at him and you can see he’s surprised – you’ve mostly been quiet, overcome with everything else to form rational thoughts. Not only that, but you’re asking about time, of all things.

“Almost 1:30AM,” he tells you, after glancing on his wristwatch, before returning the hand back on your waist. “Why? Do you want to leave?” he asks and for one second, one damn second, you see a trace of something other than pure confidence on his face. It’s not insecurity or worry, not even disappointment. It looks like a mix of all three and something else, but it’s all very faint and lasts for barely a second before he smiles at you. “It’s okay if you do. Truly.”

“It’s not that I want to leave,” you mumble, before remembering you’re in a damn club. So, you close the space between the two of you and put your lips to his ear, brushing his skin as you speak. “It’s not that I want to leave. But I need some fresh air. We can come back if you want to.”

“You want me to go with you?” he asks as you pull away and you nod. “You sure?” he asks, looking at you with worry in his eyes. He’s questioning it, if only a little bit, probably worried that you’re running away and he’s being pushy. Which isn’t the truth. You are running away, but not from him, not exactly.

“Yes,” you laugh, taking his hand, as if to show that you mean it. He smiles back at you and leads the way. You think he’d go back to your borrowed table, so that he can finish his drink but he doesn’t seem to care. Instead, he leads the way to the area where you left your bags in exchange for 5 euros.

Seeing as you are the only ones leaving this early, the exchange for your stuff is quick and by the time you are breathing in the cool Paris air, it hasn’t been more than a few minutes since you’ve expressed your desire to leave. And the cool air helps. Well, it’s either the cool air or the fact that Jimin isn’t attached to you at this moment. With a bit of distance between you, you can actually use your brain.

“Are you okay?” he asks as he watches you take deep breaths. “We can walk it off if you’ve had too much to drink? I can walk you back to your place if you want to leave?” he suggests.

“No,” you smile at him, feeling a little bit overwhelmed by how helpful he is, as well as worried. “I’m not wasted. I don’t even know if I’m tipsy anymore,” you tell him. Sure, you might not be tipsy from the alcohol but he is a different story – you are very much drunk on him. But you won’t tell him that. “I just needed a bit of air. Maybe we can walk? Then come back or something?”

“Sure, yeah,” he nods and you lead the way. “You know, we don’t have to come back here because of me. I’m perfectly fine with just walking around. We can go somewhere else or find a bench to sit on. I can call a cab for you if you want to go back to your place.”

“I’m enjoying tonight very much,” you reassure him. There are… so many other things that you’d like to say, about him and the way he makes you feel, but you just… don’t have the balls to do so. So you simply settle with reassuring him that you’re enjoying the night. “Let’s just walk around and then figure out what we want to do next. The same goes for you – I’m fine with doing whatever you want to do.”

“You know, the last light show of the night is at 2AM,” he tells you, glancing at his watch quickly. “We can still catch it, if you’d like to. Maybe we even have time to go to the tower itself but we can definitely make it to Trocadéro on time?” he suggests and even though you normally refuse to be such a basic tourist, a huge part of you is excited at the thought of seeing the tower light up.

“I haven’t seen it yet. You want to go?” you ask, continuing with the tradition he had started of questioning everything for whatever reason.

“Sure, let’s go.”

There are people roaming around the area – of course there are, it’s Paris, there are tourists in every nook and cranny of the damn city. However, the numbers are smaller than they were when you went here the other day. You were definitely not alone but you did manage to find a section of the fence where no one was waiting with their cameras ready. Which is exactly what the two of you are doing now, waiting to capture the perfect moment of the tower lighting up.

You’ve been fairly quiet since you’ve left the club but it wasn’t the negative kind of silence, not at all. It was the silence that comes after a slightly overwhelming moment. You’re not sure if Jimin feels the same and if he does, he sure didn’t show it, but he was quiet along with you, speaking up only when you do, smiling your way whenever you’ve felt brave enough to make direct eye contact. It was comfortable and it made you realize just how much you have let this total stranger get under your skin.

“Doesn’t this feel a bit like the New Year’s countdown?” you ask, adjusting your camera so that the tower is right in the center of it – as much as Jimin is overwhelming, you still want to capture a decent photograph. It’s a once in a lifetime event. At least for us, non-Parisian commoners.

“It does,” he chuckles. “Ah, here we go!”

It’s impossible not to laugh at all the sighs of wonder you hear coming from around you. Yes, it’s a beautiful sight but… come on! It’s not a natural phenomenon; it’s a tower with lights on it! You sense Jimin reacting to it the same way you do, laughing a bit at the amazement of everyone around you but still taking a photo and enjoying the moment.

“Wait, let me take a photo of you,” he tells you and to your surprise, he doesn’t ask for your camera – he simply steps back with his. You don’t say anything and you try not to think too much of it but at the very least you are now expecting an exchange of social media or emails, knowing that you now have a perfect excuse of contacting him. Unable to hide a smile at the realization, you try to strike a casual pose, all while feeling like a complete idiot because he is looking at you again. “Wait,” he suddenly says and walks back up to you, reaching his hand closer to your face. “May I?”

You nod, not even sure what exactly you’re agreeing to here. Gently, he runs his hand through your hair, similar to the way he runs it through his own hair a few times a minute, messing it up a little bit. You don’t exactly have a mirror on you right now, but you imagine it’s the cute kind of messy, not the messy kind of messy. Why would he want you to look like shit for the photo? So, you let him, trying to ignore the way your pulse races because of him being so close. “There,” he steps away from you, smiling.

“Messy enough?” you joke, laughing when he does.

“It’s not messy, it’s sexy,” he tells you and yeah, your stupid heart is in overdrive, the butterflies in your stomach wilding and your face absolutely blushing. “It’s cute, natural. It’s more you than the preppy pose you’ve just tried to pull off,” and now he kind of insulted you.

“Hey!” you snap back, unable to keep a straight face when he starts laughing again. “You’ve known me for a few hours, how do you know preppy poses aren’t my thing?”

“I just know,” he shrugs. “Now act natural. Smile.”

You wanted to fight him back in a passive aggressive way and remain preppy but you just can’t – not with him making you smile. So you smile and giggle, pretending like he doesn’t have a camera in front of his face. If he wants you to be natural, you’re going to be natural.

After a few shots, he moves the camera away from his face and gives you the most blinding smile he had given you so far.

“Your turn,” you order him, unsure how you can even talk anymore. You feel like jelly on the inside and it’s actually quite worrying, seeing as you haven’t felt like this many times in your life. Of course, you liked people, you dated people, hell you’ve even loved a guy or two! But god good, they’re not Jimin. The guy has it all and all of it is affecting you in ways you didn’t know you could be affected.

You swallow a few lumps as you try to focus on the tower too, and not just him, because yes, it kind of needs to be in the picture too and that is the whole point of this, isn’t it? It takes you a few tries but you end up with a good shot. No matter how tonight ends, you’ll have a palpable memory of Jimin saved in your camera and you’d be lying to yourself if you say that doesn’t make you feel a bit more at ease.

“How can something be so tacky and so breathtakingly beautiful at the same time?” you ask while walking back towards the fence, letting the camera dangle around your neck as you stand next to Jimin.

“It really is amazing, isn’t it?” he chuckles. This time around, you are the one shamelessly staring – he is too preoccupied with looking at the tower. “I don’t know what it is. I don’t know if it’s Paris, or just tonight or maybe even you, but everything feels so… I don’t know, honestly,” he laughs, shaking his head as if he’s in disbelief. “I guess I’m just… really enjoying tonight.”

Here he is, this… beautiful, hot, kind, charming stranger, right next to you. Just a few days ago, he was no more than a fellow tourist. Just a few days ago, you didn’t think much of him. Today was a different story. Today, he didn’t let you push him into the back of your mind. Today he had made himself the focus of your day, night and quite frankly, this whole damn trip.

You don’t have to see him ever again if you don’t want to. If destiny keeps messing with you, you might run into him back home but by then, enough time would have passed for you to be able to keep your cool. If it goes good… it’ll go good. And if it goes bad, you can go back to pretending like none of this ever happened, and that your whole Parisian escapade was not Jimin centric. It might be easier said than done but you’re a tough cookie. You can do it.

Why not go for it? Seriously Y/N, why not go for it?

So you do.

You step closer to him and reach your hand out, putting it on his cheek and turning him to face you – he doesn’t have enough time to react properly but you can see the flash of surprise on his face. There is no time for him to say or do anything, because you lean in and press your lips to his.

Fuck it. Seriously, just fuck it. You’re here, he’s here and with doing practically nothing, he’d made you feel more than you’ve felt in months. As tacky as it is, you truly do only live once and you know yourself well enough to know you’d end up regretting not doing this.

You might regret it anyways, who knows. But you’d eat yourself away if you hadn’t gone for it.

You’d be lying if you said that the kiss is magical. Really, it’s awkward. Your lips are not much in comparison to his beautifully plump ones and while that could be overpowering, he technically isn’t moving. What you thought would be a kiss that would rock your world, ends up being nothing more than one slightly longer peck because he isn’t moving.

You can feel it – you’ve fucked up. You went for it and in hindsight, you shouldn’t have. Feeling absolutely mortified by his lack of response, you pull away, feeling even worse when you see the way he’s looking at you – no awe, no surprise, no excitement. He doesn’t look pissed either, or confused. It’s difficult to describe it but he’s almost… scowling at you.

You’ve fucked it up. But that’s okay. At least you won’t wonder about the ‘what ifs’.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, looking away from him quickly. As much as you’re trying to reassure yourself that it’s better to know than to wonder, you’re absolutely dying on the inside. If there’s a hole near here in which you could hide, right this second, you’d go there. Alas, you’re out in the open and have to deal with the mess you’ve made. “I guess I’ve misread the signals. I-“

With his hand on your back, he pulls you smack into his chest, not leaving any room between the two of you whatsoever. All that you see is him leaning into you with his eyes closed.

It’s not a peck – it’s anything but a peck. His lips guide yours to open and not even a second later, you feel his tongue moving against yours. He pulls you even closer to him, your bodies practically stuck together, with your hands squished between you. You feel him run his other hand through your hair, turning your head a bit towards the side so that he can have more access to you, as if he hadn’t had enough to begin with. His tongue is relentless and you’re absolutely sure that you’re about to faint, knees barely managing to keep your body standing.

You have never been kissed like this. Definitely not in public.

He pulls away slowly, tugging on your bottom lip with his teeth as he goes. He’s not scowling like he was moments ago, but he’s also not the cute, smiley Jimin he was for the better part of the day.

And you? You’re honestly struggling to breathe. A kiss is a surprise itself but a kiss like that is not something that’s easy to survive. You’re well aware that you’re practically panting because of him but it’s hardly something you can hide. You’re affected and you’re going to be affected, no matter how embarrassed you are about it.

“If you’re going to kiss me,” his voice is low, much lower than before and it’s not helping your situation at all. “You should kiss me like you mean it.”

Fuck everything.

You grab his shirt and pull him towards you once again.

Life works in mysterious ways. Just this morning, you were a regular tourist, doing regular tourist things, sticking to your itinerary as you try to cram all of Paris into one week. And now? Now you’re pressed up against a wall of a random building in a part of town you haven’t ventured into before, making out with the hottest guy you have ever met, who is also pretty much still a stranger.

You don’t even care about how uncomfortable you are in this position – him kissing you makes it all better, very literally. He is a marvelous kisser – hungry, but not overpowering, with lips for days. He smells of cologne you have never smelt before but somehow know you won’t be able to forget anytime soon. Even the soft cotton of his white shirt that your hand is digging into feels heavenly.

Jimin, Jimin, Jimin. All you can focus on is Jimin, to the point of even almost managing to ignore a whistle directed towards the two of you.

You’ve had it coming, really – almost dry humping in the middle of the street. When Jimin starts to pull away, probably because of the wolf whistle, you still chase after him, desperately trying to keep your lips stuck together. He still moves away but not too far – he nuzzles into your neck, leaving you gasping for air at the feel of his lips attacking your neck.

Is it too far? Maybe. But too far is the exact direction in which you want to go.

“Do you want to go somewhere?” you suggest. You’ve never directly propositioned sex to someone you weren’t in a relationship with and while you were internally panicking, you also know he probably won’t refuse you. Unless the thing you’re feeling against your thigh is his phone and not him being happy to see you. “My airnbn is a bit far but we can go there?” you suggest, not wanting to be too direct and invite yourself to his place. Honestly, you’d even go into a public toilet at this point, but you’ll keep that bit of information to yourself.

He doesn’t respond immediately and you would have worried about it, if he wasn’t preoccupied with biting your neck, with enough force to leave marks and make you want to crumble. You shudder, actually shudder with pleasure as you feel his tongue run over your skin. “The place I’m staying at is just a few minutes away,” he finally speaks up, stepping away from you for the first time in what feels like forever. “Do you want to go there?” he asks.

The way he looks at you tells you he’s asking you more than to just go over to the place he’s staying at. You know it, he knows it. Even though it was your suggestion, he is still checking in with you, despite probably already knowing that you’d agree to pretty much anything. You laugh at his question.

“Jimin… I’m… I’m more than fine with going to your place, yeah,” you settled for that. Letting him know that you’d let him fuck you in the middle of the street, right here, right now, might be a bit too forward of you. Incredibly accurate but perhaps too forward.

The beaming smile you get from him when you agree serves like a confirmation to yourself that no, this is absolutely not a bad idea. This is everything you’ve hoped for but didn’t think would happen. This is the brief romance that novels are written about, a story you might remember when 30 years from now, your 20something-year-old daughter goes on her first trip to Paris and you remember him. Jimin will be your story, one that you might revisit often, depending on how the night ends.

Taking your hand in his, he leads the way and you follow blindly, enjoying his touch even during simple handholding. You want to do more, so much more, but if you do, you’ll never get to your end destination. Jimin must have sensed that, because the two of you are walking faster than you did this whole day – now you actually have a goal in mind. And what a goal that will be.

“Not to bring the mood down but we could have been going to your place a lot sooner if you’d kissed me back in the club,” you admit. Maybe that was a little bit unnecessary but you want to break the silence between you – and if you can compliment him in the process, why not?

“Hmm, maybe,” he sighs, suddenly letting go of your hand, only to hug you around the waist and pull you into his side, giving you a quick kiss on the lips. “You’re not the only one that was worried about misreading some signals. I wanted to be sure, so I consciously waited for you to do something.”

“Thank fuck I did because that was a close one,” you laugh in disbelief, amazed to know how close you were to this simply never happening.

“Not gonna lie, I was worried,” he laughs too, giving you another quick peck. You’re positive that you’re blushing again. Every time he kisses you, your stomach does somersaults, excited at the thought of him wanting to kiss you as much as you want to kiss him. Which is a lot. More than a lot. “I’m glad you mustered the courage to kiss a guy that’s quite obviously wanted to kiss you all afternoon.”

“For future notice – be more direct,” you warn him through laughter. The lucky girl who gets to experience him next deserves to be spared the inner turmoil you’ve went through. He spent the entire night dancing on the line between being very direct and not direct enough. One step in either direction would have settled your dilemma, so hopefully the next person will have more luck.

“I’m a bit preoccupied with you right now, thanks,” he chuckles as he sneaks his hand down to your ass and squeezes it shamelessly. You jump up in surprise but don’t feel particularly troubled about being in public, seeing as there is no public around you, at all. It’s just the two of you, walking along the river, the boats moored along the way seemingly empty. Feeling brave, braver than you ever remember feeling, you’re the one who initiates the kiss this time, making sure to show him how much you want this. You move slowly, enjoy the feeling of taking the lead and the lazy movements of your tongues, interrupted only when you feel the need to bite his bottom lip, which is way more often than you’d be willing to admit. Somehow, you once again end up being sandwiched between him and the half wall behind you. Seizing the opportunity, you sit on the half wall, pulling Jimin towards you by the belt – his hands find their way to your waist as he situates himself between your legs. This time around you’re sure it’s not his phone you’re feeling. It’s a very prominent bulge, noticeable enough to make you salivate at the very thought of what’s hidden. You’re not the only one acting braver – for the first time tonight, Jimin’s hands find their way under your shirt, eliciting goosebumps on your back almost immediately.

It’s when his fingers move to the front and graze your bra that you remember the two of you are still very much out in the open. And while at this point you wouldn’t particularly mind letting him have you here and now, the last thing you want to add to your Paris story is being arrested for indecent exposure.

“If you keep kissing me like this, we’ll never get to your place,” you warn him and contradict yourself immediately, attacking his neck with bites that make him sigh and shudder.

“Thank fuck we’re already here.”

You reluctantly detach yourself from his neck, looking around in confusion – you don’t see a house around you, at all. There’s nothing but the walkway and the park across the street. And as much as you like Jimin, you’re not going to fuck him on a bench which he sleeps on. He sees your confusion and nods towards the river. It takes you a bit too long to connect the dots.

“You’ve rented a houseboat?!” you ask in surprise and he gives you a quick kiss, pulling away with a smile.

“Of course,” he chuckles. “Hotels are boring. Boats are awesome.”

“Who even rents a boathouse?” you ask in wonder, all the while feeling slightly pissed at yourself because why the hell didn’t you think of that? It sure would beat your tiny airbnb, with a building that has no damn stairs – nothing but an elevator. Why would you be locked in such a claustrophobic space when you can have a damn boat? Lesson learned.

“I do,” he smirks at you. “And tonight, I’m going to fuck a very beautiful girl on that boat. So I guess it was a good call. Don’t you agree?”

“Yep. Wholeheartedly. You win.”

You know you’re going to die of embarrassment when he realizes just how wet he’s made you but you’re past the point of caring. With the words he says and the way he kisses you, you and your pussy never stood a chance.

Before you can kiss him again and prolong the wait, he takes your hand and leads the way, first down a set of concrete stairs and then towards the second houseboat in a row; it’s close to the ones on its side, but not too close for comfort. Climbing up the stairs that lead to the impromptu balcony on the boat, you immediately realize the appeal of choosing housing like this – once you can take your eyes away from Jimin’s ass, that is. No, once you are not looking at it, you can appreciate the view the boat has – you can even see the Eiffel tower, a bit down the river. The deck has a huge table, a few chairs and way more plants that a boat deck needs. It looks comfortable, beautiful and with how easily accessible it is, just a bit dangerous. All the words you can use to describe the man who is now kissing your neck, standing behind you as you reach and lean yourself on the boat rail, hoping it is safe.

“I see you’re an exhibitionist,” you laugh when he pulls you back so that your ass is right against his crotch and good god, you can feel how hard he is as he rolls his hips against you.

“No. Maybe just a little,” he chuckles. You laugh too, until you feel one of his hands leave your hips and reach for the button on your jeans. You gulp, eyes widening and as if he can sense your alert, he doesn’t unbutton them immediately. “You?” he asks. God, consent is so fucking sexy.

You’ve never dabbled in it, never really thought about it either but now, in this predicament? “Maybe just a little,” your voice is low as you give him permission. You weren’t joking when you thought that he can do anything he wants, were you? It doesn’t matter, because you said yes and holy fuck, his hand is going down your pants.

You jolt immediately and how could you not, when he went straight for your clit, right off the bat. Jimin does not play around, that much is obvious. You can only pray the fence is secure enough to keep you out of the water.

“Didn’t think you’d be this turned on by foreplay in public,” he laughs directly in your ear because the moment he ran his fingers against your slit, you threw your head back to lean onto him more, afraid of your legs actually turning into jelly because of him. “I’m proven wrong.”

“You don’t know me well enough to assume my sexual preferences,” somehow, you manage to laugh and remain sassy, thought that is cut short the moment he returns his attention to your clit, circling it very, very slowly. “But I suppose you found out some.”

“And I have the whole night to learn, don’t I, Y/N?”

“You do,” you bite your lip to hold back a moan because he started rubbing his fingers against you, the sudden change from slow to fast catching you off guard.

“You don’t have to keep quiet baby,” he presses a quick kiss against your neck, pushing you more into the rail as he rubs himself against your ass in a manner that almost has you begging for more. You are, internally, but not aloud. Not yet, at least. “I don’t think anyone could hear you down here. And I know I want to.”

“Duly noted,” you moan out because he presses his fingers into you harder – with the pressure and the speed, you know you’re going to fall apart way sooner than you’d though.

There has to be some flaw, right? He cannot be this perfect, no human being can be this perfect. If you were to stick around long enough, maybe you’d find a personality trait of his that makes him less perfect than what he is now, in your eyes, but you won’t be staying long enough to find out. For tonight, you’re more than fine with letting him be your little perfection.

“Let’s go inside?” he suggests as he drags his hand away from you and that is by far the worst thing he had done the whole night. You never want him to stop touching you, but that can be arranged at a more appropriate location. You nod, or so you think you do, unsure of your movements and thoughts, and you let him pull you by the hand and towards the door, pausing to fumble with the keys.

He opens the door and you stumble inside as he puts his bag on a hallway table – you choose to throw yours on the ground, waiting for him to turn on the lights. The moment you can see him clearly, the passion takes over you.

Driven by it, you all but slam him into the wall, almost laughing as his eyes widen in surprise. You don’t though – you don’t laugh, you don’t say anything. You simply reach for the hem of his shirt and lift it up slowly, making sure that your fingers cross every inch of skin you uncover. Seeing him shiver is worth the torture you’re putting yourself through, because a part of you wants to drop to the floor and start unbuckling his belt. You fight your own instincts, wanting and hoping to give him at least a fraction of the pleasure he had given you just moments ago.

Soft to the touch but very well defined, his body is a work of art that could rival those that you have spent the last few days observing. The tattoo you discover on his ribs serves as a perfect imperfection, a blemish on the canvas that somehow looks so right. Gulping, you let him take off his shirt and as soon as he does, you’re against him, kissing those lips of his again.

You don’t stay there long – slowly traveling under his chin, down his neck and all over his chest, staying there long enough, pressing soft kisses and licks until he is properly panting. When his hips roll, subconsciously looking for any kind of friction, you decide to move further down, slowly kissing a trail down his stomach, looking up at him, enjoying the sight of him so visibly… distraught. The moment your eyes meet, he closes his. And now you know you’re doing it right, if for the first time he is the one afraid of eye contact and how deadly it can be.

“You’re killing me,” he chuckles nervously, his voice breathless. And you simply smile, slowly unbuckling his belt and pushing the pants down to his knees as slow as you possibly can. You want to offer a remark about how he’s clearly enjoying it but his cock is one major distraction, in the best way possible.

He’s hard and ready, the sight filling you with instant pride because you know that you did that. You made him like this. A little bit pliant, a little bit breathless and very much not ready for what’s about to come. He’s hard, twitching under your gaze, making your mouth water. You still take it slow, enjoying the pace set to tease him – slowly licking the tip of his dick, smiling as you watch his Adam’s apple bob from above you – he still can’t look at you.

“I love how you’ve been staring me down the whole night and now you can’t handle looking at me,” you admit as you slowly drag your hand up and down his cock. Of course, now he opens his eyes and looks down on you but the lump he swallows shows you that even though he responed to your challenge, he is still very much affected and you’re living for it.

“I see you like to tease,” is what he says, making you smile.

“Very much,” you nod, giving him a quick lick that is followed by another muffled curse coming from him. “But I can be kind too,” you conclude, before finally taking him into your mouth properly.

It’s a bit of a challenge but you are more than happy to take it, slowly sinking your mouth up and down his dick, enjoying the symphony of noises that is coming from him. Every sigh, every curse, every moan – it all just makes you even more adamant to give him the best head of his life.

“Fuck Y/N,” he barely manages to say, moaning as you speed up your movements. He gathers your hair in a makeshift ponytail and slowly starts guiding you faster, eyeing your reaction, despite being momentarily distracted by the sight of you taking all of him into your mouth. “Fuck, you look so… You’re gonna make me come,” he lets out a slightly panicked laughter, gently pushing you away from him, to which you pout. Despite not being that big on blowjobs, giving one to Jimin felt somewhat like a privilege and you wouldn’t admit that lightly. Not wanting to stop completely, you squeeze him in your hand, slowly moving up and down, watching as he goes through another crisis. “Y/N,” he laughs in warning, making you stop, albeit reluctantly.

“Isn’t it the point to make you come?” you ask but still stand up when his hands grab yours by the elbows and he lifts you up to stand next to him.

“Absolutely,” his eyes don’t leave your lips and he gives you a quick kiss, biting into your bottom lip hard enough to earn a moan. “But not like that, not before I fuck you. Not before I have my way with you.”

The smile on his face looks sinister enough to make you even wetter than you were moments ago. He doesn’t sound like a man who makes promises lightly and you get your confirmation as he puts his hands on your hips and starts pushing you back towards the room behind you. You’re too fucked out to notice anything other than the fairly modern design of the furniture around you. Before you can notice anything in particular, your ass slams into a hard surface and you jump up, letting him settle between your legs again and kiss you even harder than he did all night.

You’re the target now, and good god, you’re loving it. His lips alter between being gentle and harsh, kissing you with so much passion before biting, as if he wants to show you that he’s the one in charge. And you let him. By god, you let him.

He takes your shirt and bra off quickly, not wanting to drag it out like you did, but the moment you’re half naked before his eyes, he slows down. If him staring you down made you feel nervous before, you are positively burning right now because he is eating you up. He doesn’t even have to touch you – just the sight of him, looking like he’s about to ruin you is enough to cause goosebumps to form all over your body. He comes closer, attaching his lips to your chest. You are losing your mind because he is purposely slow, kissing you all over before finally attaching his lips to your nipple, taking it into his mouth and slowly rolling his tongue against it. You swear you can feel him smiling, but you’re too far gone to check – especially not when his hand reaches for your other breast, squeezing it shamelessly. You’ve been able to control your noises for a little while, but the moment his teeth come out to play, you’re a goner. With his fingers and lips moving at the same time, you can only moan, reaching towards something, anything to hold and settling for his hair. You grip it, perhaps a bit too harshly if his moan is anything to go by – but he doesn’t stop you. In fact, he simply sucks harder, making you arch your back towards him.

He’ll ruin you. He will absolutely ruin you and you are perfectly fine with it.

After what feels like an eternity, he detaches his mouth away from you and your eyes meet. He truly is a sight for sore eyes, especially now when he looks so blissfully fucked out. His hair is a mess, his lips red from all the kissing and sucking, his torso a work of art. He looks so fucking hot, you moan. At the very sight of him, you moan. He’s not touching you, he’s not teasing you, he’s not doing anything but looking at you and that is enough to make you moan, moan and rut your hips in his direction, looking for friction which you find in the form of his thigh. He lets you, he lets you move against him. Your moment of pleasure doesn’t last long, because he steps back, fumbling to unbutton your jeans. You lay down, ignoring the cold of the table against your naked back, lifting your hips to help him undress you completely. Unlike the slow, sensual moves that you used on him, he is quick, taking them off as fast as he possibly can. When you’re left in nothing but your underwear, that is when he slows down again, crouching down out of your sight.

“Fuck!” you gasp in surprise when you feel him nuzzling his nose against your clothed center – you can feel how wet you are and you know, you know he can smell it, feel it, see it and you absolutely do not care. In fact, you’re even more turned on by the thought of it – he clearly is enjoying it and you want nothing more than to let him know how good he’s making you feel.

He doesn’t torture you for too long and other than a muffled curse, he doesn’t comment on how wet you are for him. Instead, he goes right down to business, using his fingers to move your underwear to the side and he immediately attaches himself to your clit, sucking on it harshly, with the same fervor as when he was sucking on your nipples.  

“Fuck, Jimin!” you moan out, gripping his hair with all the strength you have, knowing that that must have hurt – again, he shows no signs of having a problem with it. Fuck, he probably even likes it.

“What is it baby?” he asks, not waiting for your response and instead choosing to lick up your center. “Are you enjoying it?”

“Yes, fuck yes,” you manage to reply, momentarily distracted by the feel of his finger sinking into you.

“If you let me, I’ll eat you out for hours tomorrow morning,” he tells you, pausing to bite on your thigh, a bite that you know will leave teeth marks, but you don’t protest. “As much as I’d be willing to do it for hours right now, I really need you on my cock.”

“Yeah, okay,” you laugh, biting your lip at the feel of him sinking another finger into you, slowly dragging them in and out as he stands up, keeping his eyes on yours the whole time. You say nothing more – you couldn’t, even if you wanted to. You move your hips in time with his fingers, riding them like you would, and hopefully will, ride his dick in a matter of moments.

“Bedroom?” he suggests as he stops his assault on you. You nod, somehow managing to sit up, nearly laughing at the sight of him. Half naked, with his jeans still hanging right above his knees, his member standing up proudly. How he could wobble you towards the table in that state is beyond you. You don’t have a chance to ask, too distracted with the sight of him licking his fingers, all while looking directly into your eyes. He’ll be the death of you, that’s for sure.

You stand up, leaning against the table as he loses the last articles of his clothing – you barely have the time to take a few deep breaths before he starts kissing you again, his tongue overpowering yours as you moan at the taste of him. You don’t bother opening your eyes, letting him lead you towards the bedroom, trusting him that you won’t end up overboard, hoping that if you do, you wouldn’t be too turned on to notice. You hit a wall and a door on your way there, giggling by the time he is pushing you onto a bed, finally letting you breathe. Standing above you, he somehow manages to look both menacing and hot at the same time. His eyes tell you to wait, which you gladly do, watching him as you settle yourself on top of the covers. You choke on your own breath when you notice his ass, for the first time without the barrier of skintight jeans – it’s a sight, alright. You watch as he fumbles through his suitcase, smiling at him when he turns around, waving a condom at you.

No matter how much you’re into him, there’s no way he’s fucking you without protection. You’re glad he’s on the same page, not even stopping to suggest going bare. While you’d like that and you’re guessing so would he, it’s simply not happening. He walks towards you, not putting the condom on immediately, instead choosing to give his member a few strokes, enjoying the view of you on his bed, naked and waiting. Though your lip bite was an unconscious reaction at the sight before you, he is affected, grunting at the sight – the moment the condom is covering his dick, he is rushing to get on top of you, finally letting you feel his whole body against your own.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he tells you before kissing you passionately, flicking his tongue slowly as he settles between your legs. He doesn’t enter you immediately, instead choosing to grind onto you, making the both of you moan into the kiss. You’re the one who pulls away, if only for a moment.

“Please,” you moan out, enjoying the feel of his dick rubbing against you, pushing you closer to the edge – too close, considering you didn’t even have a chance to feel him inside of you. “Please just fuck me.”

“Gladly,” he gives you a quick kiss before finally sliding into you. Slowly and with ease, he fills you up in a way that makes you moan – louder than you did the whole night, feeling absolutely shameless. You don’t care, you don’t care where you are or who can hear you, if anyone – he feels that damn good.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” you gasp, taken by surprise with him slowly rolling his hips into you. It’s as if he can tell you need no more time to adjust to him, he starts moving a bit faster with each roll of his hips, making you curse out as you grab onto him, your fingers digging into his skin. It seems he enjoys you being rough with him, showing him how good he’s making you feel because he isn’t complaining and you know it has to hurt. He wastes no time, dipping down to take your nipple into his mouth, never stopping his dick from moving in and out of you in the best of ways.

“God,you’re so tight baby!” he grunts as his thrusts become harder and faster, so much so that you faintly notice the sound of the bed thumping into something, most likely the wall. You don’t care, you really don’t – you pull him closer to you, blindly reaching for his lips, enjoying the way he overpowers your senses, even smell - he smells like sex and expensive cologne, the most mouthwatering scent you’ve ever had the pleasure of smelling. The moment your lips touch, you feel his hand graze your clit, eliciting a particularly loud moan for you. Unable to focus on anything, you give into pleasure and let him do whatever he wants with you, the onslaught on your senses killing the little sanity you had left.

You dare and think it can’t get any better than this and right as you do, he delivers a particularly hard thrust, pinching your clit between his fingers at the same time. You weren’t ready – you weren’t ready for it at all and with his actions catching you by surprise, you lose the little control you’ve had, coming hard. The orgasm washes over you stronger than any orgasm in your recent memory, making you gasp and moan, holding onto him with all the strength your body has left. He is losing his cool too – his hands give in and he’s pressed up against you completely, lips grazing your ear. “Just like that, come all over my cock,” he urges you through your high, his words making it even harder for you to calm down.

Body shivering, you somehow calm down your breathing – it’s a challenge, seeing as he still hasn’t stopped moving completely. He slowed down enough not to send you in complete overdrive too soon. Even his consideration is a turn on – almost as strong of a turn on as him using your body to pleasure himself, still rolling his hips into you and moaning softly, directly into your ear, the moan turning more high pitched when he feels your nails running up and down his back.

Turning your head towards him, you search for his lips. He kisses you eagerly, stilling himself inside of you for a moment, as if he wants to focus on the kiss and kiss alone. Slowly, he moves away from you and leans back, running his hand up your thigh. He raises his eyebrows as he pushes your leg up, asking you for permission. You nod, moaning as he moves your leg towards the side. Quickly, you turn to your side completely and judging by the moan he lets out, that’s exactly what he needed you to do.

You want to do more, you do. You want to ride him till you can no longer move but he is so damn overwhelming, all you can do right now is just… take it. And you’re not complaining. Slowly but surely, the pleasure builds up again and you realize there’s a strong chance you’ll come again. Suddenly brave again, you look at him, directly at him, as you put a hand between your legs and start rubbing yourself. The moment he realizes what you’re doing, he looks down, lifting your leg up so that he can have a better view. “Fuck,” is all he says, followed by the sexiest groan you have ever heard a man make.

“I’m so close,” you warn him, wanting to feel all of it again but somehow not wanting it to end.

“Come on baby, come for me again,” he urges you on. As much as you want to, you really don’t want it to be over anytime soon - the buildup was so damn hot and you simply don’t want to stop. Thinking about his earlier promise about eating you out for hours is what pushes you over the edge. Feeling Jimin and think of the dirty words he whispered in your ear is enough for you to come again, your entire body shivering with pure pleasure. Looking up at him, you notice the way his face scrunches, the way his voice is deeper and his moans never stopping… he takes over you again.

“I’m going to come,” he warns you, making you remember that he can’t come inside of you and fill you up, which is something you would really, really like. You settle for the next best thing.

“Come on me,” you tell him, moving your leg out of his still firm grip, and spreading your legs as much as possible, now having a perfect view of him slamming into you, much faster than he did before. “Come anywhere you want,” you urge him, biting your lip as his hips lose rhythm at your suggestion. In the speed of light, he slips out of you, leaving you empty and wanting more, more of him, more of his dick, more of anything he’d be willing to give you. You watch as he takes the condom off in the speed of light, still rubbing yourself and ignoring the overstimulation you are feeling, absolutely urged by the hottest sight you have seen in your entire life: Jimin, stroking himself with a firm grip, moaning loudly as he closes his eyes, his face scrunched in pleasure.

You watch in awe as he finishes all over you, the streaks of his cum reaching all the way up to your breasts. You have never, never in your entire life, experienced anything hotter than this. You know now, there is nothing hotter than watching Jimin orgasm. And you have never in your miserable life had sex nearly as good as the one you had now.

Jimin’s body gives up and he falls directly on top of you, making you chuckle. Your hands roam his back, as if you are comforting him through the aftermath, completely ignoring the fact that his now softening member is still rubbing against you. Both of you are sweaty, your bodies covered in his cum but you don’t care and neither does he. Once he is finally able to move, he simply leans a bit to the side, just so that he can look at you. And he does. With the brightest, sweetest smile that shouldn’t belong to a man who fucked you as hard as he just did.

“Hi,” you speak up first, shocked at how rough your voice sounds. Perhaps you were a bit louder than you thought you were. He smiles and you feel yourself melting again, accepting that you are whipped for him, way more whipped than you should be for someone you barely know. He doesn’t make it any easier on you when he leans in for a kiss, his lips slow and lazy and yours following suit, ignoring the butterflies that are going berserk in your stomach again. You ignore it all, shutting your brain off and enjoying the post sex glow that he is radiating with.

He pulls away but not before caressing your face and pushing hair behind your ear – a very sweet action for someone whose mouth can do all those dirty, lovely things.

“That was… wow,” he admits and for the first time since you’ve met him, you think you see a blush on his face – a blush that isn’t caused by alcohol, that is. Is he suddenly shy? Is it the post sex blush? You don’t know and you don’t care, as long as you can keep looking at him.

“Wow seems appropriate,” you agree, joining in his laughter. He is still chuckling as he nuzzles into your neck, giving you a few quick pecks before pulling away.

“Do you want to stay the night?” he raises his eyebrows, giving you a way out if you don’t want to take him up on his earlier offer. “I could call you a cab or even walk you back to your place. I’d like you to stay the night though.”

“Good, because I don’t think I can use my legs at the moment.”

It wasn’t supposed to be such a funny remark but for some reason, he laughs hard and after fighting it for a few seconds, you can’t help but join in. If you look past his hotness and the ease with which he communicates with people, he really does have a comfortable aura around him – if he laughs, it’s contagious and you don’t mind joining in.

The two of you calm down and after a few moments of silence, he runs his hand through your hair again, pushing it away from your face as his eyes focus on different parts of it – first your eyes, then your lips, then your cheeks. It looks as if he is trying to memorize you and to that you can relate because this is one night you’d never want to forget, not one part of it. And not one part of him. “Let’s go and get cleaned up?” he suggests.

You’ve lost count of how many times you have let him take you by the hand and lead the way for the both of you. You are yet to regret those decisions, gladly letting him lead the way now, knowing that wherever he takes you… it’s going to be good.

You wake up feeling content, well rested and sore, all at once. With a dumb smile on your face, you giggle and bury your face in the pillow – it smells of him, making your memories of the night before even more vivid.

His promise of devoting hours to you and your body this morning did not wait until dawn. It all occurred the night before, with you still kissing one another by the time sun had started to rise and the birds had started chirping.

It all comes back to you in flashes, the bath you took together, the way he caressed your skin as he was washing you up, before his hands went a bit further south. Both the sweet words and the dirty talk are engraved in your mind forever, just like the way he made you feel all of last night.

You knew it before, you’re sure of it now – he has ruined you. He has absolutely ruined you, in the best way possible. And you don’t want it to end.

You knew it had an expiration date. This is a trip romance – short, sweet, steamy and memorable. It had an expiration date the moment the two of you shared the first smiles in front of ‘Shakespeare and company’. While the thought of it does leave a bitter taste in your mouth, you’re a big girl and you can live with it. Smiling, you decide to enjoy the morning, or early afternoon, with Jimin. You’ll deal with the negative side effects later.

“Afternoon, beautiful,” you hear him, turning around towards the direction his voice is coming from – he is leaning against the doorway, smiling at you, looking too hot for his own good with gray sweatpants, a white shirt and a part of his dark hair pulled back in a makeshift bun. “Did you sleep well?”

“Surprisingly, yes,” he smiles as you close your eyes and shamelessly yawn, remembering a second too late that you should put a hand over your mouth. You open your eyes just in time to see him sitting down on the edge of the bed, placing his hand on your naked thigh and slowly moving it up and down your skin. It’s not as sexual as his touches were last night – in fact, this feels more comforting than anything else. “How long was I out? Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah, I slept like a log. And it’s 2PM now, so you’ve had a few hours.”

“2PM?” you’re shocked to realized you’ve already lost half the day. It was very much worth it, though.

“You have somewhere to be?” he teases you, probably unaware how he makes the butterflies in your stomach go nuts. You have a sneaky suspicion that he’s not aware of your dilemma – do you go, do you stay? Does he want you to go or does he want you to stay? What are you even supposed to say now?

“No, not really,” you shrug, cowardly throwing the ball into his court. You’ll admit it, you’re a whimp and you are more than happy to let him decide if you should be on your way or stick around a bit longer.

“Well, I’ve made us some quick lunch. I wanted to order something but wasn’t sure if you’d want to stick around for food… so I figured I’ll make something and eat both portions if you bolt,” he admits through laughter and you’re immediately relieved – you weren’t the only one uncertain about everything.

“I don’t have to bolt. And I’m also kind of starving,” you admit, shuddering when you remember that the last thing you ate was a croissant almost a full day ago – you’re absolutely starving.

“We can eat on the deck if you want?” he suggest, before breaking out into a sudden smile.

“What?” you ask, confused with how he’s looking at you. You either have something on your face or he’s going to make this whole thing 20 times more difficult and you’re afraid the second situation is more likely.

“Nothing. You’re just beautiful like that,” he shrugs as you let him run his hands through your hair.

“Half-dead and messy looking? I’m sure I am,” you roll your eyes.

“Not messy. Sexy,” he corrects you, the same way he did last night. With a sigh, he pulls away and stands up. “I’m starving too, so you’d better hurry up if you don’t want me eating you up instead.”

“I don’t think I’d mind that, to be honest,” you admit, hiding your face in his pillow, knowing that you no longer have the dark to hide the blush that appears whenever you say something a bit more straightforward.

You expected him to say something or maybe laugh – you absolutely didn’t expect to feel his teeth on your right ass cheek. You jump up in surprise, nearly hitting him in the head when your leg jerks, but that only makes him laugh. You’re smiling way too wide for someone who’s just been bitten on the ass and you decide to scream into the pillow once he’s away enough not to hear it.

“Your clothes and underwear are dry and clean but feel free to steal that shirt from me,” he winks at you. “I’ll wait on the deck.”

With that, he leaves you alone to get dressed, try to gather your thoughts and maybe, just maybe, control your emotions a little bit. It would have been a lot easier if he was the ‘wham, bam, thank you ma’am’ kind of guy but surprise, he’s not! No, he fucked you like a full-fledged sex god, giving you the best night of your life, while caring enough to throw your clothes into the washer and drier and even wanting to feed you the next day. Nope, still no flaws in sight for Park Jimin.

You wash up quickly, slapping yourself a few times for good measure, hoping to calm yourself down enough to be able to turn around and leave very soon. You still don’t know if it had worked but your bag is packed and you join him on the deck, dressed in your jeans and the shirt he wore yesterday that he generously let you sleep in and steal for good.

He doesn’t notice you immediately, leaned back in the chair with his eyes closed. The sight of him sitting like that, with his dark hair pulled back and tied, his neck in full view and all but glowing in the sunlight makes you want to cry. The man is actually so goddamn pretty it almost brings tears to your eyes. It doesn’t help when he notices you and smiles at you, pointing at the two bowls set on the table.

“I know it’s just noodles but honestly, I’m too pretty to know how to cook,” he explains as you take a seat. You burst out laughing at his comment.

“Cocky yet very true,” you nod in appreciation. “Don’t worry, I love ramen.”

“It’s lame but I at least I’ve added poached eggs,” he tells you, looking oh so proud about adding an extra ingredient.

“Nothing beats instant ramen,” you reassure him. “It smells of youth, not having enough money and artificial flavoring. I’ve never felt more at home,” this time around, it’s he who laughs, wishing you a good meal as the both of you dig into the food. You weren’t lying when you said it’s more than okay – you just need some food in the belly and it’s not like you’ve expected him to greet you with a full course meal. It’s the thought that counts and it’s more than enough. Actually, it might even be too much.

Halfway through your lunch, the silence between you turns slightly uncomfortable. It isn’t anything that either one of you did – it’s just the entire situation. The clock is ticking, the both of you know it and neither one of you is quite sure how to act about it. You can’t stay here for another day, even if you wanted to – your stuff and a huge chunk of your money is back at your airbnb. Even with that little detail aside, you’re not even sure if you want to say – not to mention, if he wants you to stay or not.

But it feels… wrong. It feels wrong to leave just like that, pretending like he hadn’t given you an amazing night. Not only was the sex mind-blowingly good… even before that, he was a perfect travel partner yesterday. He’s good company and knowing you’ll be saying goodbye to all of that… it doesn’t sit well with you.

Despite avoiding eye contact for a few minutes now, you fail and the moment your eyes meet from across the table, you know you’ve reached that page of the little novella the two of you wrote. He knows it too, setting away his chopsticks, sighing as he leans back into the chair. You say nothing, watching him as he stares you down, slowly shaking his head.

“I don’t want this to end,” he admits. You stay silent, following his suit as you put away your own chopsticks and lean back into the chair, completely shutting down the rest of the world – you no longer hear the birds or passing boats. You don’t see the tourists walking along the river, you don’t even feel the subtle waves that gently sway the boat you’re on – you can only focus on him, on his face, on the way he looks bothered by this. “It feels wrong to end this but at the same time, doesn’t it feel like the only proper way to go about it? Am I making any sense?” he asks, letting out a nervous chuckle.

“Yeah,” you nod immediately, assuring him that you do understand it. “It feels good, it feels right, like it would be a shame to walk away from but… what else can be done?”

“Exactly,” he agrees, leaning towards you. “It feels equally right and wrong. What are we going to do?”

You can go back to get your stuff and spend the rest of the trip here with him. You can exchange numbers and meet up back home. It could lead to something beautiful, a continuation of a marvelous chapter one, just as easily as it can lead to a complete disaster. Life’s unpredictable and you don’t know if it’s worth it to possibly ruin this amazing… encounter.

How can you even find an answer to that? Not like this whole thing hasn’t been…

“You believe in destiny, don’t you?” you ask him, suddenly putting two and two together, smiling at the confused nod he gives you. “We met here so many times. Different days, different times, we somehow ended up together. Who’s to say that won’t happen again?” you ask.

“What are you suggesting here? To… see if we meet again?”

“Exactly,” you nod, feeling proud of the solution you’ve come up with. “You believe in destiny and I don’t. If we meet again, I’d be willing to question that belief. We go our separate ways. If it ends up being a onetime encounter, we’ll remember it with smiles on our faces. And if we meet…”

“I don’t let you walk away again,” he smirks at you. You don’t say anything as that smirk turns into a genuine, real smile. He means it, he actually means it. And if you meet him again… you will too. “What happens if we run into each other back home?” he asks.

You remember how you talked last night, realizing that the two of you were hanging around the same places before, perhaps even at the same time. It made you wonder how many times you have passed one another, without a second glance, thinking of other things, of other people. Running into him back home seems more likely than seeing him again here in Paris.

“Then we say hello and see where that takes us,” you answer adamantly.

“Deal.”

“Deal.”

He offers you his hand from across the table and you shake it firmly, suddenly a lot more hopeful than you were moments ago. No, you don’t believe in destiny but if there’s someone that could make you question that, it’s Park Jimin himself.

“Fucking hell,” you curse under your breath as you wrestle your way through the crowd – for the first time since you’ve arrived in Paris, you were stuck in the metro during rush hour and you have never felt so many backpacks smacking your face in such a short amount of time.

Trying to get Google Maps on, you make your way up the stairs and into fresh air, taking a deep breath when you do. If your phone is correct and based on your previous experiences, it’s probably not, you’re a five minute walk away from the Luxembourg Gardens.  A perfect way to end your last full day in Paris – outside and hopefully away from any kind of crowd.

You walk in the direction your navigation deems right, checking every few seconds if it had started spinning out of control like it did yesterday – there is nothing more stressful than your GPS telling you to turn right and once you do, immediately telling you to take a sharp left.

It’s the smell that makes you take a detour – it’s always the smell. Sure, you could continue to sheepishly follow your navigation but when the smell of freshly baked pastry smacks you in the face, you know where you’re heading. The bakery is fairly empty and you test your poor French as you order a plain croissant.

Damn him and his plain croissants. Something that should be so simple and so irrelevant now irks you, almost to the point of you changing your order to a chocolate one. You don’t, already knowing that you’re nowhere near proficient enough in French to explain your change of heart.

The lady behind the counter is a bit of a bitch, not waiting for you to put your wallet away before she hands you your meal, giving you a dirty look when it takes you a second too long to take it from her. Offering her a sour, kiss-my-ass smile, you take the pastry and head towards the door, now trying to juggle your food, phone, wallet and the door handle, all at once.

You’ve just managed to close the door behind you and turn around, nearly avoiding a collision.

“Jesus Christ!” you gasp, gripping your phone and the pastry harder, stopping them from flying out of your hand.

“Shit, I’m so sorry!”

Your heart stops at the sound of his voice. You slowly look up, scared of both confirming and denying your suspicions, unsure which one would hurt more – him being here or him being a product of your imagination. You know that voice and you know it well.

It’s him, looking panicked and checking if you have a hold on your things. “I’m sorry, I…” he goes mute once his eyes meet yours and he realizes it’s you.

Jimin stares at you, not saying anything. One second before the encounter turns uncomfortable, you watch in amazement as he grins at you, a grin so wide and genuine your heart skips a beat.

“I… I could have dropped my croissant.”

He huffs a small laugh at your horribly timed Vine reference, pursing his lips as he tries to hide his smile – why, you don’t know and don’t care to find out because he can’t do it. He can’t hide his smile and it’s evident that he’s happy to see you. So are you, thanking and cursing at destiny at the same time.

Taking your empty hand in his, he says nothing as he intertwines your fingers and starts walking, slowly leading you away with him. You follow him, desperately thinking of what to say, of what to do but somehow too panicked to actually do anything. It feels like one of you should do something and apparently, he thinks the same because he suddenly stops and turns your way.

He puts his hands on your face, pulling you in for a kiss. The moment your lips are pressed against his, you remember how much you’ve wanted to do this since the last time you’ve kissed him, before walking down the steps of his boathouse. The relief that fills you as he deepens the kiss makes you a reluctant but firm believer in destiny.

No words are needed, you know that now. So when he leans away and smiles at you, you smile back, reaching for his hand again. He leads the way and again you follow, knowing you’re definitely not going to regret it this time either. THE END

[sometimesiwritebadly]

Rogue Thoughts (Spencer Reid x FBI Agent!Reader)

Summary: Soulmates can occasionally hear each other’s thoughts. You happen to hear the thoughts of a fellow FBI Agent while you’re interviewing for a position at the BAU.

Check out the series

Warnings: Some language, but it’s just fluff

Notes: SOULMATE AU MOTHER HECKERS

Word Count: 2k

Masterlist

After nearly 30 years of listening to your soulmate’s thoughts, nothing could surprise you at this point. While most of your friends or family heard relatively normal things from their soulmates before they met, your head consisted of random facts about anything from mental illnesses you’d never heard of to Greek philosophy. Once, you had what you learned to be some of Friedmann’s equations stuck in your head for a week. Despite how little you cared for mathematics, your curiosity had given in eventually and you ended up googling it after 3 days. Whoever your soulmate is, he’s an absolute genius. 

Sometimes the thought of just how smart your soulmate is feels a little daunting; You’re not dumb, you have a master’s degree in Criminology and worked for the FBI, but you couldn’t help but wonder if your soulmate would be disappointed when the two of you finally meet. There’s no way of telling which of your thoughts your soulmate had heard from you over the years; maybe he learned about your study of criminals or some of the bad guys you’d managed to catch over the years...or maybe he learned about how you have almost every episode of Friends memorized. Recently, the thoughts you heard have become more frequent. Back when you were a kid, the thoughts you heard could be weeks or even months apart, but as you got older, you heard his thoughts more and more often. Your mom had said that must mean you’re going to meet your soulmate pretty soon; the same thing had happened with her and your father. 

“17 interviews and we still don’t have a replacement…”

The thought entered your head for a moment, but flickered away before it completed. “Don’t distract me today, soulmate. I’ve got a job interview.” You thought. Even though you don’t have any control over which thoughts he would hear, you hoped he had gotten your message. You currently worked in Crimes Against Children with the FBI, but after 4 years excelling in that area, one of the higher-ups, Strauss, had suggested applying for the renowned Behavioral Analysis Unit. You had become a profiler of sorts within CAC; when you were in college you had attended multiple lectures on the subject matter. Even though you weren’t officially trained, your bosses all agreed that you had the potential. Plus, the BAU had been down an agent for a while, so today you were meeting with SSA Hotchner.

When you arrived at the FBI headquarters today, instead of heading to your usual building, you went to the building where the BAU was held. Your nerves were getting the best of you as the elevator slowly made its way to the 6th floor, and to make matters worse, your soulmate’s thoughts were flying through your head at an astronomical rate. “I should book a flight to visit mom soon…” “Maybe we’ll finally get a new agent today....” “if Morgan tries to make me do his paperwork one more time…” Clearly, he hadn’t heard your plea to try and keep it down today. Or, he has just about as much control over which thoughts you heard as you did with his. Despite the foreign thoughts filling your head, you tried your best to stay focused as you exited the elevator and made your way towards Hotchner’s office. 

As you walked through the room, your eyes were pulled from your destination to the various people sitting at the desks. Or, more specifically, to a certain guy filling out paperwork diligently. “Holy fuck, he’s cute.” You thought. Almost immediately, his head snapped up towards you. “Did he…?” “Wow.” You both thought at the same time. This time, you stopped walking, and he pushed away from his desk to get a better look at you. Your interview had almost completely slipped your mind until you heard someone call your name.

“SSA Y/L/N?” You turned away from the guy, who you were now incredibly intrigued by, to the man you recognized as Aaron Hotchner. 

“SSA Hotchner, it’s good to see you again.” You said, giving him a wave. You weren’t a fan of shaking hands, although you were nervous your avoidance of the motion would come off unprofessional. Luckily, Hotchner didn’t seem to mind.

“Please, call me Hotch. My office is just this way, if you’d like to follow me.” Hotch led you to his office, where you took a seat in the chair across from his desk. Luckily, the thoughts from your soulmate - who may or may not be sitting right outside this office - had calmed down, so you had a clear head for your interview.

~~~

“Garcia!” Spencer burst into Garcia’s batcave, shocking the girl. Morgan stood next to her, looking at Spencer like he was insane.

“What’s wrong, pretty boy?”

“I need to know the name of the agent Hotch is interviewing right now.”

“Ok, you could’ve just asked like a normal person instead of giving me a heart attack!” Garcia grumbles, sitting in front of her computer to pull up the information. “Do I at least get a reason as to why you need to know about,” She paused, reading the name that had popped up on her screen, “SSA Y/N Y/L/N?” Spencer leaned down next to Garcia, so he could see the picture of you on the screen.

“Y/N Y/L/N…” The name felt perfect coming from his lips. It was like he never wanted to say another name again

“Reid? Seriously, what's up with this girl? Do you think she’s bad news?” Morgan asked, clearly concerned about Spencer’s actions

“N-no, I, um, I think she’s my soulmate.” Spencer whispered, not really registering what he had said until Garcia’s excited squeals finally tore his eyes away from the computer screen

“Oh my god this is the best thing that’s ever happened! Are you sure? Oh my god I need to do more research! No wait - if you think she’s your soulmate what are you doing in here with us! You need to be with her and fall in love and get married and name your first born after me like yesterday!” Garcia began rambling, grabbing Spencer’s hand and practically dragging him out of her office and back towards the bullpen. She continued talking as they walked over, while Morgan trailed behind with a wide smile on his face. 

Prentiss and JJ had been chatting at their desks when Garcia dragged Spencer in. “Code Red, ladies! Spencer Reid met his soulmate and she’s with Hotch right now!” Garcia announced, finally letting go of Spencer’s arm. 

“Holy shit!”

“Oh my god, Spence!”

Emily and JJ both gave Spencer a hug, while a blush rose to his cheeks. “I-I don’t know for sure yet. I just, it was like something was pulling me to her. And this time when I heard her thoughts it just felt so…” Spencer was at a loss for words, which was very rare for him. He couldn’t describe this brand new experience.

“Like everything suddenly made sense?” JJ suggested, as the only one in the group who actually knew what the experience of meeting your soulmate was like. 

“Yeah.” Spencer nervously began to play with his hands, turning to look at the door. Through the blinds of Hotch’s office, he could just make out where she was sitting. “Good luck.” He tried to send her the thought, knowing that if they really were soulmates, he should have more control over which thoughts she would hear or not. He may have been imagining it, but he swore she saw her figure get less tense through the blinds.

~~~

“Well, Agent Y/L/N, you’re certainly one of the best candidate’s I’ve interviewed so far. I know you still have an active case to finish with CAC, but once that’s resolved we’d love to have you transfer over here to the BAU.” Hotch said with a small smile.

“Thank you so much, Hotch! My current case is almost wrapped up, so I should be able to officially transfer within the next week or so.” You said with a smile. The both of you stood from your chairs, and Hotch opened his office door for you. Immediately, your eyes found the man again, and you found he was already looking at you. 

“Did you want to meet the rest of the team? Clearly, they’ve all decided it’s social hour anyways.” Hotch suggested, clearly not too pleased with the group that was very clearly not doing any work at the moment. He had mentioned that the team didn’t have a case right now, but you were sure there was still plenty of paperwork to get though.

“Yes! Please.” You said, maybe a little too enthusiastically. Even though you did want to be on good terms with the whole team, right now the only person you cared about was the man in the cardigan.

“Guys, this is SSA Y/N Y/L/N, she’ll be joining us here at the BAU soon. Y/L/N, this is SSAs Derek Morgan, Emily Prentiss, Jennifer Jareau, and Dr. Spencer Reid. Penelope Garcia is our technical analyst, and SSA David Rossi should be around here somewhere-” 

Hotch was practically cut off by Penelope, who immediately pulled you in for a hug. You did your best to hide your discomfort, but you had always been a bit of a germaphobe.“Oh my God it’s so lovely to meet you, we’re all so excited for you to join our little family…” Penelope began to ramble as she pulled away from the hug, which you found endearing. 

“Is she like this all the time?” You thought. 

“Yes. You’ll get used to it.” Your eyes immediately move to Spencer’s. Dr. Spencer Reid.

“I’m sure I will. Don’t know if I’ll get used to talking in our minds though.” You think. You were completely tuned out of the conversation the other Agents had started, now focusing only on Spencer.

“Well, studies show that transitioning to life with a soulmate can be jarring, but not because of discomfort of hearing thoughts. It usually takes couples a long time to learn how to turn it off, which can result in soulmates getting to know each other’s secrets rather quickly. That’s why nearly 38% of soulmates will break up within a few months of starting a relationship, although it should be noted that 87% of those that break up will end up getting back together at some point in their lives.” Spencer’s thoughts began racing, and you suddenly understood all the random facts you had learned from him over the course of your life. As he told you the facts and figures of soulmates breaking up - not the best subject for a pair of soulmates that just met, but you didn’t mind - you noticed that the rest of the team had stopped talking and were now just watching you and Spencer converse in your heads.

“That probably explains why we’re talking with our thoughts instead of out loud. And why your team is staring.” Spencer’s cheeks reddened when he looked away from you and realized you were right.

“Honestly, I forgot they were there. Which is rare for me, I have an eidetic memory.” You laughed aloud at his remark, earning more confused looks from everyone else.

“Sorry, guys, I guess we got a little...distracted.” You spoke aloud for the first time in a few minutes. Spencer moved closer to you, his hand itching to take yours.

“Oh, please, don’t apologize, I was the same way with Will after we met. I know how overwhelming it can be at first.” Jennifer waved off your worries, and extended a hand towards you, “You can call me JJ, by the way.” 

“Oh, um, I don’t really shake hands, I’m a bit of a germaphobe.” You worried once again about coming off as rude, but this remark only made JJ, and the rest of the team laugh.

“Wow, you two really are soulmates, aren’t you.” Derek remarked, swinging his arm over Penelope’s shoulder as he spoke.

“I’m the same way.” Spencer explained to you, “It’s actually safer to kiss.”

“I’m sure we’ll put that to the test when we’re alone.” You didn’t think it was possible, but Spencer’s face became even more red after your thought entered his own head.

~~~

tagged: @dr-reid-ismyspiritanimal

[chuckbass-love]

Intrusion | Andy Barber

A/N : I’m so excited to be entering my first ever writing challenge on this blog. This is probably the first of many entries and i hope everyone enjoys. This is for the Shameless Hoes for Chris challenge. Feedback is welcomed and encouraged, it’ll help me improve. 

Disclaimer: My work is not to be posted anywhere else other than MY Tumblr, Wattpad and Ao3 without my permission. However, reblogs are welcome.

Thank you so much for doing this challenge @stargazingfangirl18​ & @navybrat817​ enjoy...

Pairing : Andy Barber x Reader

Word count : 2,462

Summary : You accidentally walk in on Andy naked...

Warnings : explicit language, sexual content and smut. 18+ 

I used scenario prompt 13. ‘Accidentally seeing the other naked’

GIF NOT MINE!!! Credit to whoever made this gif, if anyone knows who made it pls let me know so I can give credit. I genuinely just search gifs up on google and I never manage to find out where the original gif is from bc of so many people re posting gifs. I never wanna give credit to the wrong person! So if this gif is yours or if it’s someone you know then let me know and I’ll credit them. Thank you💗

It’s Friday afternoon and you’re stuck at work in the last meeting of the day before you get to go home and relax for the weekend. 

You’ve got plans to hang out with your neighbour Andy tonight. The two of you got rather close once him and Laurie split, he got quite lonely in that house which was understandable. 

You recall the time you saw him get takeout for the third time that week and you couldn’t stand the sight of it. So you made some lasagne and took it over to him in an oven dish. 

He was beyond grateful for the kind gesture and even invited you in to eat with him to which you gladly accepted.

Ever since the two of you have developed quite the friendship. He wasn’t ready for anything romantic so despite your little crush on him, you decided it was never going to happen. You had gotten used to it being strictly platonic. 

You always had plans with him every Friday night and tonight was no exception. Tonight is movie night at his place.

“Right okay, that’ll be all then guys” your boss calls out, breaking you from your daze. You have to admit, you didn’t pay attention during that meeting. Hopefully it wasn’t anything too important though.

You gather your stuff and head back to your office to collect your bag before heading out to your car. Once you reach it you check your phone to find a text from Andy.

‘Hey, just checking we’re still on for tonight. I’m gonna jump in the shower, back door is unlocked so let yourself in’

You smile down at your phone before starting the car and driving out of the parking lot. Once you reach your road and pull onto the drive next to your house, you contemplate showering first before going over but decide against it. Instead you walk across the road to Andy’s, going straight to his backdoor. 

You notice some popcorn on the kitchen counter, he must’ve picked that up on his way home. You start to wonder around whilst you wait but he seems to be taking forever. 

Surely he wasn’t still showering, he must have been in there for 30 minutes now. You wonder over to the staircase and start climbing, noticing that the shower isn’t on and you don’t hear any noise coming from the second floor.

“Andy, are you in he- OH SHIT” you curse as you walk into his room to find him stood there butt naked. You quickly rush out of the room and run downstairs. You’re utterly mortified. You can’t imagine he’s feeling any different.

Well, now you’ve seen your friend naked. Guess you can tick that one off the old list of things to do. You put the popcorn bag into the microwave and stand there in shock, attempting to process the sight that stood before you no less than a minute ago.

As much as you hate to admit it, the crush you had on him was still very much present now. Walking in on him naked has not helped in the slightest. You can’t get over his body, hell even his dick is huge. Just like you always imagined it to be. 

You try to wash away the impure thoughts, luckily for you, you’re snapped out of them by his voice.

“So... about that” 

“That was my fault, i’m sorry. I just wondered where you were. I shouldn’t have snooped” you ramble.

He lets out a deep sigh, walking over to you. You get the popcorn out and pour it into a bowl before walking away from him and into the living room. You plop yourself down onto the couch, seconds later he joins. 

“What movie have you picked?” you ask, in hopes that he’ll drop the awkward subject. Thankfully he does. 

“I chose American Psycho” one of your all-time favourites. You grin at his suggestion as he sets it up on the tv.

“I love this movie” you kick your feet up onto the couch, your skirt riding up your thighs slightly but not enough to give anything away.

-----------------------------

The credits roll up and you yawn and stretch, moving the bowl to the coffee table in front. It’s been a long week at work and tired is an understatement, you are well and truly shattered.

You sit upright and turn to Andy who is looking back at you, his lips curling into a smile.

“What?” you giggle nervously, unsure of what he’s smiling at.

“You just look really good” you both freeze, did he really just say that? You sit there for a second, not sure of how to respond to him but soon enough the sarcasm comes.

“Well, don’t i always?” you flick your hair in a sassy motion, he chuckles “I can’t deny that” is this what you think it is? is he hitting on you?

“Anyways, i bet-”

“Did you like what you saw?” you know exactly what he means but you decide to play dumb.

“I’m sorry what?”

He shuffles closer to you on the couch, closing the space. 

“You know what i mean, did you like my body earlier, when you walked in on me?” you try to fight the smile that tugs at the corners of your mouth but it’s no use, your cheesy grin comes out to play and you feel your cheeks heat up.

“I’ll take that as a yes then” he traces his finger over your bare arms until he reaches your shoulder. His mouth soon replaces his finger as he presses a kiss to your shoulder, then moving the kiss to your neck, then jawline and then finally he reaches your mouth.

Your faces are inches apart and you can feel his breath hitting you, you can’t help yourself anymore. You tried but failed. You crash your lips to his passionately. All your feelings for him come out in the kiss, you can just tell he feels it.

His kiss is rough and nasty but also intimate and loving all at once. You feel like you see fireworks going off in your mind, like all of time is standing still for the two of you. 

You get the impression that he’s wanted this for a long time, just like you.

You break away and your chests are heaving.

“That was one hell of a kiss” you pant, he releases a small laugh, nodding his head in agreement to your statement.

“I’ll admit, i’ve wanted to do that since the moment i first met you” you just give a look as if to say ‘i know’

You can’t believe your ears though, you felt it but to hear him say it out loud is something else entirely. 

“I’ve had a crush on you for so long” you look everywhere but his eyes, you feel nervous now, really, really nervous.

“I know” you cover your face with your hands, had you made it that obvious?

“You actually admitted it to me when we were drinking once. I ignored it because i wasn’t in any position to act upon it despite feeling the same. But i’m more than ready to act upon it now” you make direct eye contact with him and within seconds, he pulls you onto his lap so you’re straddling him.

He grabs a hold of your hair, pulling your head back as his mouth attacks your sweet spot. You feel him start to bite down, almost as though he intends to mark his territory. Like you belong to him now.

You let out a breathy moan, biting down on your lip at the intense feeling, he’s not holding back. You were sure to wake up with more than just a couple of hickeys in the morning but none of that matters right now. You want to live freely in this moment.

“Let’s take this elsewhere” he stands up and your legs wrap around his torso.

He makes sure the doors are locked before taking you to his room and throwing you down on the bed like you don’t weigh a thing.

He removes his shirt and pants, leaving him in just his boxers. You can see the huge situation forming and you can’t help but lick your lips at the sight and thought of him eventually being inside of you.

“Now, let’s remove this shall we?” he tugs at your blouse, you untuck it from your skirt and he rips it off your skin. That’s one blouse you won’t be wearing again. 

“I’ll buy you a new one” he mutters whilst sliding your skirt down to reveal your red laced panties.

A grunt leaves his mouth as he removes them too, exposing how soaked you are for him. You spy his dick getting harder and harder.

“All this for me baby?” you hum in response, desperate for him to touch you.

“Please Andy” you whimper underneath him.

“Please what?” you prop yourself up onto your elbows “touch me” you beg, he smirks down at you.

He starts peppering kisses along the inside of your thigh, teasing you until he’s inches away from your sex. You try to buck your hips up but he pushes you down.

“Patience baby girl” he warns and you relax onto the bed, awaiting his touch.

It feels like you’ve been waiting forever but just when you go to speak up his mouth starts sucking on your clit and he slides two fingers inside of you, without a warning.

“Ah yes, just like that” your eyes roll to the back of your head, the pleasure he’s giving you consumes you entirely. He’s skilled, you gotta give it to him.

“Please fuck me daddy” did you really just say that? You feel the touching come to a halt and he crawls his way back up so he’s face to face with you.

“Daddy huh?” you open your eyes to find a cocky expression plastered across his face.

“I’m sorry-”

“You want daddy’s cock huh? Well then you’re gonna have to beg for it sweetheart” you gulp, his mere presence turns you on and is words only make matters worse. You feel shivers run down your spine. 

“Please daddy, please fuck me” you put on your seductive voice, spreading your legs wider for him and reaching your hand down to palm him through his boxers. You then use your other hand to rub at your clit.

“I need it, so badly” your eyes go wide, your teeth tug at your bottom lip. You know for certain that he’ll give in now. Sure enough... he does. 

He sighs as he watches you beg for him, he can’t hold it any longer. He gets off the bed to rid himself of his boxers. His face returns to it’s position between your legs and his tongue licks up your folds, stealing one last taste of you. 

“You taste so sweet” you giggle at him, pulling him up the bed.

You pump his hard cock a couple of times before urging him to bring it closer to your entrance. He tuts at your desperate state, taking your hands, lifting them above you and pressing them down into the mattress.

“No touching”

You feel his tip pushing at your tight hole and all of a sudden he rams himself into you, shifting you up the bed.

“Oh fuck” you curse as he stretches you out but the pain soon gets replaced by mind blowing pleasure. Your back arches and you try to remove your hands from his grip but you fail.

“Is this what you’ve wanted all this time?” thrust “to be fucked like this, fucked like the dirty girl you are” thrust “bet you walked in on me on purpose, wanted to see me all exposed” thrust. You wrap your legs around him, signalling for him to go deeper. Your wish is his command.

He releases your hands and you hold onto his biceps. He grips your legs, forcing them all the way back to your head.

“Andy, fuck” this new angle is allowing him better access, he’s hitting your cervix repeatedly. You know you won’t be able to last long if this goes on. You clench down onto his length, earning a grunt from him.

“Such a tight fucking cunt. That’s it, cum on this cock princess” his words push you closer and closer to your peak. You always guessed he was a talker in the bedroom and hearing it now is a million times better than all those nights you imagined it whilst touching yourself.

“Keep going, i’m gonna cum daddy” you whine, digging your nails into his biceps, the sharp pain causes him to jolt slightly, he only uses the pain to fuck into you harder. The sound of his skin slapping against yours mixed with your combined moans is like heaven to your ears. All your fantasies about this moment were nothing like this, this was better in every way.

With every thrust, moan and hit to your cervix your toes start to curl a little more. You feel it, it’s coming.

“FUCK” you release all around him, clenching down harder than ever before. Your back arches, your now chest to chest. He sits up, leaning back and pulling you with him. You’re now straddling him, you clench down again, milking him for all that he’s got.

He twitches inside of you and you feel his hot seed fill you up. You throw your head back and he wraps his arms around your body, squeezing you tight.

You stay like that for a couple of minutes, allowing you both time to ride out your intense highs. He eventually lifts you off of him and you both fall down onto the bed. 

“Well that was quite something” you both burst out into laughter.

He stands up, walking over to the bathroom and whilst his back is turned you can’t help but check out his ass. He was definitely a sex god, sculpted to perfection.

“Here, let me clean you up” he bends down to wipe up the mess the pair of you made before cleaning himself up too.

You can’t believe that just happened. It happened so quickly, you’re still in shock.

He joins you in bed, pulling you onto his chest and his arm drapes around your shoulder. He starts tracing his finger along your back, making you shiver.

“You up for staying the night because i’d quite like to do that again in the morning” a smile forms on both of your faces as you lean your chin on his chest, looking up into his eyes. 

“I’d love to”

You stay like that for a a while before eventually drifting into a deep slumber. It finally happened. You feel so happy.

[belleta]

The Forest - Part One

Consists: Supernatural, SKZ as different SN creatures, adventure, romance, drama, action, ......still trying to figure out all the details....lol XD

"Come on Y/N!", I was racing around the house. Trying to make sure I had everything for this trip. "Omg Y/N, let's GO~!" I swear to the universe she's going to thank me later. " I'm coming child!" I screamed back. Alrighty I just need my retainer. I bounded up the stairs and glided down the hallway with my cotton socks. Bursting into my room, I quickly scanned it for the sparkly emerald case. I caught sight of it out of the corner of my eye, "Boom!" I ran forward and snatched it off my windowsill. While leaping for my door, I paused and turned back to what I call my sanctuary. Call me paranoid but I'm kinda afraid of camping in the middle of the woods. Ever since I watched "The Blair Witch Project", I've been creeped.

It doesn't help that Jazzy forced us to watch the film, previous to this morning. I was drifting in the fairy floss clouds of my mind when a loud honk poured water on them. I sucked in a breath, blowing raspberries. Padding back over to my bedside, I grabbed my Ice Bear plushie. Giving it a quick squeeze and finally deciding that he's coming with me. Galloping back through the house, I made it out, locked the door and hopped in the back seat like a spring rabbit. "What took you so long?" I gazed up through my fringe at my girl bestie Jazmine. She had long beautiful honey blonde hair, and a mousy nose. Her blue eyes were alike with pebbles under a lake, with cheeks connected by a dash of light freckles. "I swear I just aged waiting for you" and Danny, our guy bestie. I've been best friends with Danny, since 3rd grade. Jazzy moved over during the 5th grade. All three of us have been with each other through thick and thin. Daniel was Hawaiian Japanese descent, had perfect colorful nails and absolutely gorgeous eye makeup. We were all dressed in casual, comfy clothes for the trip. Jazmine, or Jazzy as people call her, as the oldest. She was driving Danny's dad's truck. It was spacious and definitely was fit for the environment. Danny, second eldest was in shotgun and I, being the "baby", was in the back. "I was just making sure I have everything." The two rolled their eyes. Danny looked back at me "Girl, you need to chill. We've got everything and more" the boy stated. "I know, I know.....I'm just paranoid, you know.....being in the woods for a week" I looked down at my feet and played with my fingers to cover my embarressedness. "Awww, is the baby scared", Jazzy giggled, imitating a child. I swatted at her, "Let's just...finally go" I grumbled, reaching inside my bag to pull out my headphones. "Fine" they answered teasingly. While Jazzy was pulling out, I fastened myself and slid my headphones on. Bluetoothing them and unlocking my phone, I scrolled through my YouTube Music playlist finding the one named 'Bell Mix'. After that, I went back to the truffula trees and fairy floss. Just listening to my music and thinking about things. There were a couple times, where I thought I might get sick, but I had remembered my motion sickness bracelets. In your face! It's better to set out a little later, rather than having our vehicle reeking of my insides. 2 or 3 hours went by, or something. I'm not really sure, my brain doesn't really have a sense of time when I'm inside of it. We stopped to use the bathroom, get food and fuel at a gas station, maybe 2 hours away from the forest. "Can I, can I, can I, can I PLEASE?!?" I had been begging Jazzy to let me buy a bag of Haribo for 10 minutes now, and she was starting to break. I'm very persuasive as you find out, and I happen to be a very prominent weakness to many throughout my life. She finally gave in and I bounced away to the candy isle with glee and happily picked out a bag, promising to share. Jazzy just rolled her eyes and paid for our things. We trotted back to the car and continued our journey. It was nearing the end of 2pm when we finally arrived at the edge of the forest. It's lushes were absolutely perfectly splendid. The road continued for a hot minute, until it gave away to dirt and rocks. We didn't want to stray too far from the dirt road, so we slowly kept moving in until I suddenly exclaimed at the sight of a pretty little clearing. It had a few little bushes marking the edges, thick but soft looking grass, and a little dirt patch at one side that should be perfect for a firepit. We pulled over to take a look around, flattening a few bushes in the process. As soon as the truck came to a stop I shoved the door open and sprung down onto the flourishing forest floor. The first thing I did was take a deep breath to soak in the sweet scent of the untouched earth. I reached up, stretching and cracking a few of my bones in the process. Then I raced through the trees and undergrowth, toward the beautiful glade. It felt so nice to get away from civilization, I had always loved

getting away like this. Being able to recharge away from annoying people and sounds, my fears of the night were long forgotten. I was two steps away from the grass when I suddenly tripped over something. Tumbling forward and scratching my cheek. I landed on my face, but on the bright side it was luckily with no rocks around. The dirt however spared me at nothing, crawling into my fresh scrapes, was a sharp and quick stinging as I grabbed my face. "Seriously Y/N, we haven't even completely left the car yet and you've already managed to hurt yourself" Jazzy declared. Danny chimed in, "Did you hurt yourself at all?". Quickly inspecting myself, I responded "Yes, a tiny bit on my cheek, hands and knees", I could hear them muttering to themselves about how reckless I was sometimes. They started toward me and as I waited for them to catch up, I decided to look around and figure out where to put things for these next few days. While ogling the decently wide stretch that was conveniently shielded by a mighty sugar maple. I thought I saw something in the undergrowth a few meters away from me. I grabbed my glasses and narrowed my eyes, but right when I thought I saw whatever it was, two flashes shot in the opposite direction between the ferns and disappeared. They were kinda hidden but I could sorta make out one of the shapes was darker and slightly bigger. The other was a little bit easier but still was difficult, it was kinda brown, or maybe reddish? At that moment I felt two hands on my shoulders, "Let me see", it was Jazzy. She inspected my injury. "It'll be fine, just wash it off", "Okie-Dokie-Artichokie", she laughed and ruffled my hair. I gazed back at where I saw the two shapes but not even the bushes were still moving. "Hey!" I cocked my head back to the voice "Can you help me?" Danny was struggling to unpack from the back. "Sure thing Danny-O" I quickly stood up, maybe a little too quick. My vision went funny and I almost stumbled. "Oh my god Y/N! Be careful!" Jazzy scolded, "My bad!" I was a little all over the place at the moment. Finally we were on this trip! I mean, I waited 6 months for this and it's finally here! I'm not all childish, I'm actually very 4D. I'm just really excited okay? I more carefully walked back to the truck, where Danny was struggling to keep ahold of what appeared to be the tent. Over the course of the next hour and a half we set up everything. Goofing around and laughing. Danny had been pulling too hard on our sleeping bags, to wedge them out of the trunk. And had accidentally fallen onto the slightly wet dirt, causing a very prominent brown streak across his gray sweatpants and sky blue tie dye hoodie. I was currently on my way to find the stream that is supposably close by, with a screenshot of google maps and a compass. Service wasn't exactly a 5 star out here, but I didn't mind too much. I brought a portable WiFi router with me, so if Jason Vorhees just decided to pull one, we could call for help. Every so often I would hang a wooden heart ornament on one of the tree's branches, so if this was the correct way then we would never get lost. Also so that I didn't get lost right now. I had been making these last night, for these exact reasons. I swear only dumb people don't mark their surroundings, this is one of the main reasons why people disappear and are never found or get lost. There are no traces of where they've been, like these fruit loops really-...... After about another 20 meters I started hearing the sounds of water. It became louder and louder really quickly. Is there a waterfall here? I pondered, while quickening my pace with curiosity. 35 seconds later I came across a thinning in the trees and beyond a clear water stream. I finally broke out of the shelter provided from the thick leaves, the sun kissed my skin with it's warm touch. I looked around and sure enough, there was a small waterfall that looked straight out of a fairytale. It had multiple uneven levels, with smoothed boulders everywhere. And to top it all off, it had little water plants scattered around it. Absolutely

beautiful.... I scanned around and spotted a few giant boulders poking into the stream. I carefully picked my way over to them, clutching onto Danny's muddy clothes. Hopping onto the sunlight warmed stones, I positioned myself perfectly so that I could reach the water but wouldn't fall in. I reached into my pocket for my zip lock of natural soap, of course I didn't want to hurt this literally untouched land. I leaned down to dunk the fabric into the stream's crystal-like water and kneaded the brown smudge. It was decently cold, just perfect for a stream. I turned back to the small bag with a green bar wrapped with brown paper and a little herb decoration. I unzipped it and reached for a tiny hand towel I brought with me so that I would have a better grip on the soap, even if I got wet. After dunking the clothes in I took the bar of soap and swiped it all over. I dipped it into the water once to help the bubble come, then I started aggressively rubbing it. Once the outfit was foaming with suds, I slapped it into the brook. Holding onto the sleeve I rub it harshly all over to get the stains out. It was relatively still easy because the events of cause were only moments before. I was starting to disappear into my thoughts, getting deeper and deeper and deeper....... And just then a crash and from the trees, followed by snarls and barks. I was so lost in my thought that this jolted me into the canal. The water suddenly became ice cold, my scream had been washed away. A surge of water filled my lungs from the way my mouth was open to yelp. I could still hear the sounds of fighting every so often, when I would surface. My head was hurting, my skin was stinging and my lungs were screaming. Someone.....please help..... It was hurting so much, I was trying not to panic. So I could find the surface and get back to shore. I would break through it's crisp arctic clutches every so often and would cry out for help but then get cut off by the now frosty darkness. I was giving up to the stream and submitting to the coldness. Letting it swallow me whole. I was numb, I couldn't feel my body being thrown around anymore, Is this how my story ends? No! I don't want to! I still have things to do! I need to graduate, and find my passion! I need to find a man who will love me as much as I do! I need to birth young and care for them! I want to grow old with my partner happily! I can't die yet! I just can't! But it was just so cold. I had stopped moving violently, so I guess I had been poured into a lake or something. I didn't care anymore. My blood felt frozen, I couldn't even bend a finger. That's when I felt a force near me, it parted the waters. Moving me in a different direction with its power. Then not long after I felt something grab hold of me in an awkward way. I was starting to be pulled into another direction, as the water streamed around, parting to let me and whatever that was saving me through. Then I broke through the surface and that was the last thing I felt before slipping into a comfy unconsciousness.

[chuuulip]

The First Kiss of Love

Pairing: Hannibal Lecter x Female Reader

Warning:  Fluff with a smidges of angst

Words: 3262

Prompt: hey i was wondering id you could do a hannibal lecter one where the reader doesnt realize that hannibal likes her and she gets jealous when hes talking to another woman. when she calls him out on it he cant help but laugh. the reader is basically a oblivious dummy type and way too much of a klutz .

Summary: “Dr. Bloom is really beautiful.” your small, joyless voice continues its sentence. “Ah...yes indeed.” Hannibal replies casually.

A.N: This is for an anon that request some Hannibal fanfic. I’m sorry that it takes me so long xD I hope you like it! whoever you are ❤️ Thank you for @jewels2876​​ for helping me with this piece, love you ❤️ Also tagging fellow Hannibal fans 😉 @venusdemonroe​​​ and @detectivehannibal​​​ thanks for feeding me Hannibal content and discuss him with me ❤️

__

It’s been a couple of months since you’ve worked with Dr. Lecter. You were once a librarian; due to an accident, you lost your job as a consequence of a long time recovery.  Hannibal Lecter literally was an angel or your angel to be precise. Vividly, you remember the time you met him. By chance, Hannibal is in the clinic when you do your physiotherapy. He catches a small stack of books that you buy that day. He manages to balance the books in his left hand while his right-hand catches you before your face kisses the floor.

Long story short, both of you have some sort of conversation that leads to you applying for a job to be Hannibal’s secretary. You are excited but also nervous when you do your interview. You have no idea that Hannibal is a well-known psychiatrist not only just in Baltimore but also in Maryland. There is a fear that Hannibal will not choose you because of your clumsy tendencies. You are naturally what people will call a klutz. Physical activity somewhat hinders your ability to shine among others. You are either too slow or too weak. Not to mention lucky stars seem to distance themself from you. But not that day, the day when you get an email of your employment. Hannibal is pretty impressed with your CV and how good your skills on scheduling and data management, 

“Good morning.” the soft, accented voice of Hannibal greets you. Today, he wears a dark blue windowpane pattern jacket suit. He chooses a somewhat dark metallic floral pattern adorning the red-brown tie. His white buttoned-up shirt makes the color of his suit and ties pop. Hannibal always dresses elegantly, something that you always look forward to seeing.  

“Good morning, Dr. Lecter.” You stand up and follow Hannibal inside his office. He takes a seat on his brown leather chair. Everything looks immaculate as always.

“Schedule for today?” he unbuttons his suit jacket and you quickly help him hang the suit. “Thank you, my dear, you didn’t need to do that.”

“It’s alright Dr. Lecter.”

Sometimes when it’s only you and Hannibal in the office, he accidentally calls you my dear. You aren’t sure if it's because that’s the way he usually addresses someone he is in contact on a daily basis, or it means something more? Oh, you wish.

“Dr. Lecter…, for this morning you will have two appointments. Mrs. Potter and Ms. Randall. Also-- Mr. Franklin said he might need to reschedule.” Your slightly breathy voice points out other appointments Hannibal has outside the office. Your work had become kind of a blend between his secretary and personal assistant, to be honest. It was actually Hannibal's idea to engage you more into work that’s not strictly his office related. Not that you are complaining because it let you take a peek on Hannibal’s other persona. Not to mention that the payment is pretty generous. 

Not once does Hannibal ask your input on what type of thing should be added in his office, and by that, you are pretty proud of yourself. Not a lot of people give any thought about your opinion. Although Hannibal, like when his office has this sleek look and somewhat minimalist style, he always mixes something that you could say was classic inside his office. You have been inside his office quite a lot, but sometimes you help him tidy up his books and document. He’s somewhat more of a hard copy type of person than a soft copy one. Like you. You like the smells of an old book although some of Hannibal’s books smell too clinical for you. Like the smells of a hospital or a place with a lot of disinfectants.  

Pretty proud of your experience as a librarian in the past, and knowing Hannibal is a perfectionist himself, you practically turned the side of his office into a perfect mini library. The medical record shorts are alphabetically arranged while his other books are listed by genre, then in an alphabetical manner as well. When Hannibal stays longer in the office, sometimes you catch him drawing. A hobby that he said he has since childhood. One day he told you, “Growing up, I found my hobby really useful when I decided to be a medical doctor.” and you can’t help but agree. After he finishes with what he sketches at that time, he specifically calls you into his office and shows you the final product. That action simply makes your heart flutter in excitement.

“Thank you, you can leave for now.” He gives you his subtle yet beautiful smile. Those eyes of his when he smiles always send some sort of quick rush to your brain.

Giving Hannibal a short nod, you quickly excuse yourself. You stumble upon your own shoe and almost fall, face first. Luckily you can prevent that from happening, hoping Hannibal doesn’t notice, although you think he did. Scurrying from his office, you station yourself on your spot. Continue typing and archiving what Hannibal asks you. 

Sipping your now cold latte, your eyes shift to the books next to your PC. It’s a book called Les Fleurs du mal renaissance, a volume about French poetry that Hannibal had lent you after you finish some short of psychology 101. You have read a few pages of it, and since it’s in French, it takes you some time to understand it. 

Sometimes Hannibal invites you to his office to let you read his book while he draws things. Trying not to get caught red-handed, you glance at him from the corner of your eyes, savoring the scene in front of you. Wondering what Hannibal actually does on his day off, is there anything he can’t do? Your brain likes to take a detour on what Hannibal does at home when he’s not seeing other people’s minds.

A soft clink of steps on the mahogany floor wood, momentary pauses your fingers on the keyboard. 

“Good morning Mrs. Potter.” you stand up immediately. Greet her with a polite, shy smile. One of the things you are still learning from working with Hannibal is being confident. Since the secretary is usually portrayed as bold and beautiful, while you on the other hand are quite the opposite, Hannibal makes sure you take your time to adapt from ‘less contact with people at work’ to ‘in contact with different people almost every day.’

“I’m here for my appointment.” her British accent tickles your ear. It’s rare for you to meet a Brit, especially as posh as Mrs. Potter. Although you never glance at a patient’s medical record, you do actually google them. When you find out Hannibal’s reputation, you know that most of his patients are a somewhat well-known person. Mrs. Potter is an owner of exquisite but limited jewelry store on the east coast. From several articles that you read, she has had quite a lot of scandal. Despite that, you will not deny her beauty. She may be quite older than you, but the way her cheekbones stay supple and very few wrinkles decorating her face sometimes makes you jealous. 

“Yes, sure. Please wait a moment,” immediately, you walk to Hannibal's office door that's just a foot away from your desk. Giving a soft knock, you open the door and inform Hannibal that Mrs. Potter is already here. He gives you a quick nod, and you open the door wider, to let Mrs. Potter start her session. 

Hannibal isn’t a strict boss. Or that’s actually what you thought about him. Of course, you are a professional employee as you can be, but sometimes you spend time reading the book you borrow from Hannibal between your desk job. Mostly because you already do whatever Hannibal tasks you with. On some occasions, you join Hannibal when he attends some appointments, such as when he needs to be a keynote speaker in a well-known conference around Maryland and DC. An experience that you guess is his way to widen your social ability. 

“Thank you Mrs. Potter. I’ll see you in the next session.” Hannibal’s accent cues you to stand up and bid your goodbye to Mrs. Potter. The rest of the day comes out like it usually is. Typing and arranging schedules for Hannibal while also scrolling on another book to read. Even though you were a librarian before, there’s just so many books and so little time to read. 

When it’s time for you to go home, you knock on Hannibal’s office door and open it slightly when he answers you with a soft, “come on in”. You excuse yourself while also giving Hannibal’s friend a smile. Although Hannibal doesn’t have a lot of appointments today, his friend, Jack Crawford visits the office and you know that means Hannibal will stay late until dinner time.   

*** 

The next day your work finished earlier than you thought so you spend some time at work to continue reading the poetry book. Some people may find it weird that you like to stay a little bit longer at work than going back home. There’s always this thought of knowing there is someone close to you, without the need to do conversations in every millisecond, calming. When your eyes shift to your gold bronze table clock, you haven’t realized that you are pretty late, as the sky already turns dark. 

You know Hannibal is still in the office and you plan to excuse yourself before it’s getting really late. You don’t want Hannibal to drive you back home since you feel embarrassed about it. He always makes sure you arrive at home safely when you spend more time at the office or going home pretty late since Baltimore isn’t the safest place on earth. However, there is always a thought in your head that Hannibal being a little bit protective towards you, his employee because you are just a much of a klutz and he feels responsible. 

You aren’t sure what possessed you to move too quickly and it just messes up your footing. The point of your left oxford shoes hit the castor office chair. Ungracefully you trip to the floor and bring the chair with you. The falling chair let out a loud bang while you landed on your hands and knees, grimacing in pain. 

You aren’t sure when but your brain kind of mid freeze for a second. When you look up, you see Hannibal crouching down and calling your name, worried, “-- are you ok? Can you stand up?”

“I--I’m ok Dr. Lecter,” you try to stand up but you hold up your right hand in a sign of I need a minute. 

Hannibal takes care of the office chair first, putting it back in its original position. He carefully lifts you up, supporting you and letting you sit back on your office chair. “I’m sorry my dear, but I need to check?” He asks you for your permission and you quickly give him your approval. With an expert examination of his hands, Hannibal checks your knees for any swelling or visual deformity. Since your past accident, you are prone to any joint and soreness on the knees. Delicately, he gives a little pat on both your knees. “I think everything is ok, you may need to have some pain killers.”

“Thank you Hannibal.” you blurt it out. Sometimes you call him by his first name when you aren’t in office hours, although rarely.

He graces you with that smile of his, subtle yet it always makes your heart quiver, the kind of smile you infrequently see. You notice that sometimes he has his professional smile, it is short and kind of cold. The smile you always notice when he meets his colleague. You don’t know a lot of Hannibal’s friends, but when he has some impromptu meeting with Jack, you slightly witness more smirk and sometimes there’s this naughty element like he is planning something evil, although humorously.

“Wait a minute, I will drive you home.” Hannibal left you to go inside his office. 

There’s a guilt in your stomach that you feel you are being a burden to your boss. When your concentration dispersed like vivid smoke, the corner of your eyes caught the beautiful woman you have seen a couple of times visiting the office. Unlike other women who mostly visit Hannibal for a session, this woman is indeed different. 

“Ms. Bloom.” You greet her. Your smile may look blankly courteous even, but you definitely are not in the mood to give her your big smile this evening.

“You look unwell, are you ok?” 

“I-- I’m ok.” you try to answer her, less tense.

“Alana?” your eyes shift to Hannibal as he opens his door.

“Hey, Hannibal. I try to call you but I thought I might as well just drop by.”

Hannibal’s eyes divert from you to Alana, and he gives Alana a quick nod, letting her quickly enter the office. “It will be quick. Can you wait for a while?” you give him a nod and smile at him nervously.

At first you aren’t sure why you are nervous but something finally clear on your head. Maybe you are jealous. You know a lot of women near Hannibal are not only beautiful, or rich, they are also acutely intelligent. Although you aren’t rich, you aren’t that bad looking and you will not say you aren’t intelligent but when you compare yourself to someone like Alana, there will always be inferiority engraved in your mind. Not to mention that she has known Hannibal longer and better than you.

Hannibal's office door opens and Alana exits the door with Hannibal following her. “I heard what happened to you from Hannibal.” Alana stops in front of your desk and gives you her sympathetic smile. “Get well soon.” She gives you a pat on your shoulder and says her goodbye to you and Hannibal.

“Shall we?” Hannibal changes his focus towards you and you nod in agreement. Let him help you out of the office. 

***

“So…,”

“So?” Hannibal glances at you momentarily while driving, asking you to continue what you have in mind.

“Dr. Bloom is really beautiful.” your small, joyless voice continues its sentence.

“Ah...yes indeed,” Hannibal replies casually. 

Your eyes glance at the dark street. Hannibal’s office is located in a quite busy place and it’s nice to see less traffic when you get out of the area. 

“Did both of you date?” you blurt it out. Your eyes widen in horrors as you blatantly just spill out something unprofessional. “Hanni-- Dr. Lecter, I-- I-- didn’t mean to pry on your personal life.” 

Hannibal looks at you and lets out a laugh. Something really rare, something that you even have witnessed. The crinkle on his eyes when he laughs lets his somewhat cool and calm demeanor melted. It takes you sometimes to register on what just happens. 

“I’m sorry my dear, that’s just quite funny.” Hannibal stops laughing and sends you a quick smile.

“Also that might not answer your question but the answer is no, Alana and I, we aren’t dating. I’m her mentor and our relationship is more of colleagues and friends.”    

You aren’t sure why you hold your breath, but after listening to Hannibal's answer, you let out a long exhale, feeling that something heavy has been lifted up from your shoulders. 

Hannibal’s Bentley stops in front of your apartment complex. Ever the gentleman that he is, Hannibal asks you if you need help. You decline his help as if you can’t embarrass yourself enough in one day. 

“Before you go, I have something to tell you.” Like a deer caught in a headlight, you look at Hannibal. He switches on the light inside the car and pulls his bag from the backseat. He handed you several papers that looked likely to be a job application. Your eyes widen, vision blurry as a sudden tears drop from your eyes. This is it, maybe Hannibal has enough of your clumsiness. He doesn’t find you worthy as he sometimes needs to ‘babysit you’ when you do something you don’t intend to do. 

Feeling that he may be approaching this the wrong way, Hannibal tries to comfort you. You put both of your hands in front of your chest, like a shield in a defensive manner. Try to accommodate his tall frame, awkwardly Hannibal turns his body to the passenger seat and embraces you. He shushing you and pat your heads 

When your silent cry turns into a hiccup but more calmer, Hannibal pulls away from you. With a stutter, you explain to Hannibal that you understand if he doesn’t want you to work with him again and you are thankful that he’s been a very great employer to you. 

“Hey,” Hannibal swipes the tears that rolls down on your cheeks with his thumbs, “--it’s not that. Look, my dear, the reason I handed this paper to you is not that I want to fire you, but I have been pretty impatient lately.”

You look at him, eyes full of question on what the fuck he means by that? Although you don’t let it out loud because you don’t want to make any rude comment. Because Hannibal doesn’t like that.

“I’m one of those people who do not agree with office romance.” 

Office? Romance? What the hell? No one has any romance in the office, you thought. 

“I have been pretty much intent to court you,” his eyes flicker to your lips and back to your reddish eyes. “Alana came today because she wants to give me the application personally, there’s a librarian vacancy in her University and I pretty much just want to hand it to you.” Your brain wiring, try to connect the words as if you forgot how to speak English.  

“Apologize if I’m being rude my dear, but I have observed you for some time and I encourage myself to just lay it all here so I didn’t make you upset. Of course, if I am proven wrong, you can stay and still work as my secretary. No harm, the position will always be yours.” 

“Hanni-- Hannibal, does this mean that you like ‘like’ me?” 

He answers you with a quick nod and the smile that always makes your heart flutter. You try to reach Hannibal but your knee prevents you from doing such a thing. Hannibal let out a small chuckle as he finds your difficulty quite amusing. 

You eye him in disbelief but your anger melts right away as his face gets closer to yours. His right hand's cup at the side of your face as his lips inches closer towards you. With eyes close, you feel the brushes of Hannibal’s lips. The kiss is soft and delicate as if he is just testing the water. 

You let your hands sneak at the back of his collar as you seek more contact. Both of your lips slide and glide against each other. Letting out a whimper, you grant Hannibal’s tongue to slip past your lips. Teasing and flicking languidly, exploring something that makes you shudders in want. 

After some time, Hannibal withdraws his lips from yours. Eyes fluttering open, you can see Hannibal’s pupils expand. He let his foreheads rest at yours while his hand still cups on your face. “So...I believe it is a 'yes''?” There's humor in his voice. 

With a broad smile and less reddish eyes, you answer Hannibal with a confident nod and grant him another kiss on the lips.

__

As always, like, comment and reblog are really appreciated ❤️. Let me know what you think about this xo

[raysofcrosby]

CHANCES – M. TKACHUK

requested: yes | no

warning(s): none that i can think of.

word count: 5,066

listened to: chances by the backstreet boys

inspiration: mixed luggage au [ i can’t find the og au-prompt masterlist, but if this is your au idea, lemme know and i’ll link you for credit (: ]

authors note: listen– i don’t know what it is, but i’ve literally been on a tkachuk thing lately. like, i used to despise this little curly-headed gremlin, but now??? it’s all hearteyes motherfucker. this is purely a writing to help me get back into the writing groove again after these last six months of nothing– so i might be a lil rusty. anyway, i hope you enjoy <3333

part two | google doc w/ all parts | my masterlist | stuff i have planned | who i’ll write for | requests

I’m sorry Y/N, but if you’re not here in the next 5 minutes I need to keep going.

That text haunted you– it was all you could think about the moment you got off of your flight. The uber your sister had ordered for you was close to canceling– all because there were too many planes taxiing on the airstrip and your stupid flight ended up circling in the air for thirty minutes. If this were any other airport, no doubt you’d be screwed. Luckily though, you knew good ole St. Louis Lambert International like the back of your hand. So getting from point A to point luggage claim would be no problem at all. The only delay would be the luggage getting put out onto the carousel.

Which of course, did prove to be the problem at hand.

You were the first one from your flight at the carousel and hoped to be gone before any disgruntled passengers you managed to bump into, could show up. Unfortunately for you, just as the bags were being loaded onto the carousel, your fellow passengers were arriving too– more than a few giving you a look that would normally result in you rolling your eyes in response. Yet, your focus wasn’t on them, it was glued to the small carousel door, keeping an eye out for your suitcase.

Teal bag with a grey handle. Teal bag with a grey handle. Teal bag with a grey handle. Teal bag with a grey hand–

“Ah-ha!” You smiled, catching eye of your suitcase and rushing to meet it instead of letting it eventually make its way to you. You grabbed the suitcase and extended the handle to drag it away, already walking towards the exit.

One minute.

You had one minute to catch your uber before they left you and you hoped and prayed that luck was on your side and the black Toyota Corolla just happened to be parked near the door you chose to exit from. The warm summer air of the Missouri summer weather practically smacked you in the face and it fit wasn’t for the awning covering the pick-up zone, you would have no doubt been blinded by the sun too.

“Oh, thank God,” you sighed, catching sight of a black Toyota Corolla that your sister said to find, parked just six cars down to your left. You sped walked to the uber, coming to a stop at the window and waving at the driver, catching her attention. “I’m so, so sorry I’m late.”

The woman, probably in her early 60’s gave you a friendly smile instead of the scowl you were expecting. “Are you Y/N?”

“Yes ma’am,” you replied, nodding.

“Go ahead and put your suitcase in the trunk, it’s opened for you.”

You walked to the trunk and lifted it open, placing your suitcase inside before closing it and walking to the back passenger door, getting into the backseat. “Again, I’m so sorry for making you wait. We had to circle in the air for 30 minutes because of the traffic on the airstrip and,” you exhaled, relaxing back into your seat. “I’m so sorry.”

She laughed, pulling away from the airport. “It’s no problem sweetheart. I saw your reply. I was going to give you a little extra time. I know how hectic airports could be. Especially this time of the year. Everyone’s traveling for vacation.”

“Yeah, I think I might have accidentally elbowed one too many people trying to get to luggage claim.”

“Are you visiting or coming home?”

“Coming home…kind of,” you laughed, staring out the window at your hometown. “I actually just graduated from college a few weeks ago, so my roommates and I rented a house on the Jersey Shore to celebrate. But, my sister is getting married tomorrow, so that’s why I’m back.” You looked back towards her, laughing softly to yourself. “But then come September, I’ll actually be moving to Calgary for a new job and to get my Masters.”

“So a lot of traveling, I see.”

You took a deep breath and sighed, nodding. “Yeah, but I’m glad to be able to spend all of this time with my friends and family before I start working. Especially since I’ll be moving so far away.”

“It sounds like a great time,” she smiled, looking at me through the rearview mirror. “I’m a sucker for weddings, why don’t you tell me about it?”

Normally, you weren’t one to talk a lot whenever you and your friends would take Ubers downtown on the weekends– but this driver was sweet and you found yourself talking nonstop as she drove you towards your final destination. After all, she didn’t abandon you at the airport like you thought she would.

~

The car ride to your parents' place went by a lot faster than you thought it would and it was all thanks to Mrs. Sheila, your lovely uber driver. Whom, you learned, started driving after she lost her husband late last year. Her kids lived out of state and once they went back home after those first few weeks, she wanted to find something to do to keep herself busy and get herself out of the house– so, she became an uber driver.

Walking into your parents' house, you were greeted with empty echos of your footsteps. Your parents were still at work and wouldn’t be home until just a little before the rehearsal dinner tonight. Your brother, well, as far as you knew, he had absolutely nothing going on, so you didn’t know why he wasn’t around. If anyone was guaranteed to be home, it was your sister. She was the one who ordered your uber and had them take you here, so she was more than well aware of what time you’d be arriving home.

“Hello?” You called out, leaving your suitcase by the door and making your way to the living room. “Char, are you here?”

“Is that my favorite sister?” You heard her voice call out from upstairs. Looking up, you could see her rounding the hallway corner, carrying a closed laundry basket full of, no doubt, stuff for tonight’s bridal party sleepover.

“I’m your only sister,” you laughed as she made her way down the staircase.

“Unless you count all of the times we got bored and turned Nick into Nikki,” she giggled, reaching the end of the staircase and putting the basket down before stepping forward and hugging you. “How was the flight?”

“It was great up until our 30 minutes of circling in the air,” you laughed, pulling away from the hug. “Where’s my dear brother?”

“Working out with some friends. We probably won’t see him until tonight.”

“Nothing says welcome home like being greeted to an empty house.”

“Excuse you, I was here to greet you.” She laughed, picking the basket back up. “But if you really want to be upset, you should see all of the packed boxes in your room.”

“I leave in three months! Why are they packing me up now?” You gasped, acting dramatically.

“Nick and dad are planning on transforming it into some kind of training room or something.”

“But they–“

“Already took over the garage? Yeah, I know and mom is pissed.”

You rolled your eyes, grabbing the handle of your suitcase again. “He literally told the Blues that he was going back to Michigan in the fall to try and win a championship. Why the hell are they even treating him like he’s already a hall of famer?”

“Perks of being the youngest, not to mention dad’s only son,” she laughed, looking at the door. “Ready to head to the Airbnb?”

“Can we get food first?” You asked, dragging your suitcase along. “I’m starving.”

She laughed as you held the door open for her. “Good, because we’re most definitely getting food before we go and take a nap.”

You laughed, walking out of the house with her and then closing and locking the door behind you. “I knew we were related.”

~

Lunch and a nap turned out to be exactly what you needed. The two of you had stopped at a subway to get some food before driving over to the Airbnb that you, your sister and the rest of the bridesmaids would be staying for the night.

It was a beautiful three-bedroom, modernized cottage that looked like it was stripped directly from the pages of a fairytale book. It was tucked away, just off to the side in the backyard of a beautiful colonial house, whose farm would tomorrow be transformed into a whimsical fairytale wedding location. The men would be getting ready in the house, while the women would be getting ready in the cute cottage. Sort of like a secret getaway paradise before the wedding.

When you got back with your food, your sister took you on a tour of the property while the wedding planners and staff were setting up all of the bigger decorations for tomorrow. You were off at school during the entire planning process, only ever seeing every one of her ideas in pictures. The only things you were able to take part in, were the dress shopping and her bachelorette party since they were both held at a time you were on a fall break from school. Besides being there for those two things, the only other thing you helped with– was the proposal.

Colton has been in your life for as long as you could remember. He and Charlotte have been best friends since Pre-K. It was the cliché friends to lovers kind of story that was told time after time– but in theirs, there were no other people in it. It was just them. There were no other boyfriends or girlfriends, no other crushes– from the very beginning, they were it for each other. They were each other's first everything– kiss, date, girlfriend/boyfriend, time– in their love story, they had found their one great love…all before they turned five.

Wherever Charlotte was, there was Colton– they were stuck like glue and your parents loved it. It was their friendship that brought both of your families together to the relationship that you all had now. Your families were best friends, all because of their relationship. You often took vacations together, spent holidays together, hell, you and Colton’s middle brother, Mason, even had joint birthday parties– as did your two younger siblings, Nick and Addie. Your families even try to go as far as to dropping hints that all three kids should date.

Colton and Charlotte. You and Mason. Nick and Addie– all the same age and practically family already.

It was perfect.

Until you and Mason tried to date in the tenth-grade and realized that kissing the person you’ve shared every birthday party with, used to take baths with and shared every key moment growing up– wasn’t all that great. In fact, it was weird. So the two of you remained as the almost black sheep of the families, especially since Nick and Addie were headed down the same path as Charlotte and Colton. They started dating in eighth-grade– like Colton and Charlotte– and have maintained a healthy and strong relationship to now, even long-distance, when they’ll both be sophomores in college in the fall, Addie at the University of Missouri and Nick playing hockey at the University of Michigan.

You and Mason were there, always making jokes about how it runs in the family but skipped a generation. Never letting your siblings live it down that the two of you will be the ones to break the cycle. Funny how you two were also the ones who played the biggest roles in Charlotte’s engagement.

Both of your dads are huge St. Louis Blues fans. So naturally, they tried to rub that off onto their children. And it worked, all except for you. You tolerated the blues, but never really adopted hockey as your favorite sport. You understood it, watched it whenever you never had a choice– but like your mom, you gravitated more towards football and adopted her hometown team as your own– the Pittsburgh Steelers.

Colton and Charlotte, however, were both diehard Blues fans from day one. There were even pictures to prove it. They even went to a game on both their first ‘supervised’ date and ‘unsupervised’ date. So, when the Blues were making a run for the Stanley Cup– it was imminent for your families to attend at least one game. You and Mason did everything in your power to get the Blues attention. You emailed anyone and everyone who worked in their front office, you spammed their social media accounts– anything and everything to get their attention so you could share their story and Colton’s plan.

And at game four it all came to life. Charlotte was ‘randomly’ selected to participate in an intermission event after the first period where she’d be blindfolded and needed to walk along the ice to find Louie after collecting ‘Blues momentos’ along the way. The Blues had played the short slideshow of Colton and Charlotte that you and Mason had sent them, as they introduced her to the crowd. Unbeknownst to her, both of our families were on the ice with her, standing behind her while she was blindfolded. You and the other three siblings were scattered in front of her, each holding a single rose.

The Blues staff member helped her walk along the ice and the moment that she took a flower from someone, they needed to go back to where she started, which was where Colton was standing with the ring in his pocket. The four of you each had a sign, that when held up together read ‘Will you marry me?’ Once Charlotte neared Louie, he cut the distance to just by center ice where all of you were waiting. And when she found Louie, the entire crowd had erupted into cheers as she took off her blindfold, all smiles until she turned around to see the signs and Colton on one knee.

She said yes. The Blues won. The proposal went viral and your families were given a box to game seven where the Blues won the Stanley Cup.

All in a day's work between the two middle siblings, and one that led you all to this moment– the wedding tomorrow. Where Colton, who was already like a big brother yo you, would officially, pretty much become your big brother.

“Y/N,” your sister said, shaking your arm. “Y/N, get up. We’ve got like 45 minutes to get ready for dinner before we have to leave and no offense, but you need to shower.”

“Your lucky that you’re getting married tomorrow or I’d kill you,” you mumbled into the pillow, taking a deep breath and exhaling before pushing yourself up. “Can you charge my phone for me? I won’t take too long, just need to rinse off and I’ll be back.”

“In your backpack?” She asked as you walked out of the room.

“Mhhm, small front pocket. The charger is with it.”

You walked out of the room and into the connected bathroom, closing the door behind you before walking towards the shower and turning on the water. Your nap was more than enough to help you make it through dinner. You hadn’t thought that you were even that tired, but the moment you laid down to relax after eating your sandwich– you were absolutely knocked out.

To be fair though, you had spent the last two weeks partying it up on the beach with your college roommates, trying to relive every moment from your last four years of partying, downing booze, and making out with any attractive guy who caught your eye. You know what they say, no rest for the wicked– and boy, oh boy, were the wicked actions of shotgunning beers with strangers in the hot summer jersey sun, coming back to haunt you.

At least you got one hell of a tan and more memories to last you a lifetime, out of it all.

You turned off the shower before you stepped out and wrapped a towel around your body, then wrapping your hair up in a second towel. You walked out of the bathroom and back to the bedroom, only to find it empty. "Hey, Char?"

"In the living room...er, kitchen, I guess!"

You walked out of the bedroom and into the living room to see Charlotte sitting at the kitchen counter, a make-up mirror propped up in front of her and hot curling iron in her hand. "Why are you doing your hair in the kitchen?"

"You were in the bathroom and the lighting is lacking in the bedroom." She let a curl, fall from the iron and turned to you. "What's up?"

"Well, for one, the bathroom is free," you laughed, looking around. "And two, I was wondering where you put my suitcase? It was in the room and now it's not."

"No," she dragged out her reply, focusing on wrapping another piece of hair around the iron before averting her eyes towards the door. "You left it by the front door. Never brought it in."

You turned towards the front door and sure enough, right there not even three feet away from the door...was your suitcase. "Awesome, thanks!" You said, walking over and tugging on the handle, extending it out before walking back to the room. "And my phone?"

"Charging in the kitchen. It was dead by the way."

"Great," you huffed, walking into the bedroom and over to the bed. You lifted up the suitcase, letting it plop down onto the bed and exhaled a deep breath. It was a lot heavier than you thought it was. But maybe your body was just tired from traveling and last night's final night out.

You caught a glimpse of the alarm clock that was set up on the bedside table and saw that your getting ready time was vastly starting to dwindle. So, not thinking anything more of the heavy suitcase, you unzipped the zipper and threw the cover back, ready to grab the romper you had placed directly on top, just so it wouldn't get wrinkled. You stared down at the contents of the suitcase, quickly grabbing the cover and shutting it again.

Okay, maybe you were imagining things.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, exhaling, and then opening your eyes and opening the suitcase again.

No, you definitely weren't imagining things.

The same spike ball netting was still staring you right in the face. Surrounding it, were three spike balls and a crumbled up bag that was supposed to house the set. Beneath it, a bunch of crumpled up clothes and other things.

"No," you shut the suitcase again, repeating the same steps: close your eyes, take a breath, hope you're dreaming, open your eyes and then the suitcase, only to be disappointed. "No, no– oh my God, this can't be happening. Charlotte!!"

You heard her footsteps echo off of the wooden floor as she made her way to the bedroom, half of her hair curled and set. "What?"

"This isn't my suitcase."

"Of course it is," she scoffed. "Colton and I got you that big traveling set for graduation, and that," she pointed at the suitcase, "is it."

"No, it's not," You opened the suitcase and reached in, grabbing the first thing you felt and holding it up to show her. "See? Not mine!"

"Y/N," her eyes widened before she started to laugh. "You might want to put those down."

"It's just the spike ball bag, it's not big–" you turned to see what you were holding and sure enough, it was not the spike ball bag you thought you had picked up. It was a pair of Ant-Man boxers, and it was unknown whether or not they were clean or not. "Ah, ew!" You tossed them back into the suitcase, wiping your hand on your towel. "Ew, ew, ew, I just touched a stranger's dirty underwear."

"You don't know if they were dirty."

"You don't know if they were clean!" You argued back, looking around the handle for an identification tag. "This definitely isn't mine. My travel tag isn't on the handle."

"Who uses a travel tag?" She laughed, shaking her head.

"Me," you turned towards the suitcase, slamming it shut and zipping it. "I use a travel tag, so if my luggage gets lost or switched, they can contact me. It's common travel knowledge."

She sighed, walking over towards the suitcase and unzipping the two pockets on top, looking in and shaking her head. "Nothing hidden in those pockets. Did you think to go through the rest of the suitcase? Maybe they have a tag in there."

"And risk touching another pair of possibly dirty boxers and God knows what else? No thanks," you zipped up the suitcase and picked it up, placing it back onto the ground. "I'm doomed. That suitcase had all of the clothes that I took to Jersey, in it. It had my outfit and makeup for tonight."

"I have something you can borrow," she walked over to the closet, opening it to reveal it was empty besides two dresses hanging up. "And I've got make-up and whatever your little heart desires for your hair."

"Your wedding present was in there too," you sighed, walking over to the closet. "Which one?"

"This." She held out the rose-colored dress, handing the hanger to you. "You can get away with no bra and I can give you a pair of underwear from the new pack I bought this morning–"

"Why would you buy new underwear?" You asked, taking the dress.

"In case of emergencies," she closed the closet and turned back to you, nodding. "Which, this is. Unopened pack in that laundry basket I was carrying, feel free to take a pair and keep them. As for shoes...you're kind of on your own on that one."

You sighed, defeated as she walked out of the bedroom, leaving you to get dressed. You unwrapped the towel around your hair, letting it drop onto the floor as the towel wrapped around your body went with it. You took the dress off of the hanger and untied the straps, lifting the dress over your head and tugging it down. Your mind was going over every detail of just how you picked up the wrong suitcase. Fair, it was a dead-ringer for the suitcase you took with you to Jersey, but even you should have known to realize that there was no bright red luggage tag hanging on the side handle. And it was all you could do but hope that whoever picked up your suitcase thinking it was theirs, would at least call or text.

"Oh shit," you said, holding onto the straps that hung down on the side, trying to tie them in the back. "Charlotte! My phone!"

You ran out into the living room to see her now finishing up her make-up at the counter, turning to you with wide eyes. "Okay one, sit down and let me brush your hair," she stood up and grabbed your wrist, bringing you over to counter and sitting you down. "And two, your phone is right there."

"If they figured out our luggage was switched, they'd call! My luggage tag!" You reached across the counter, grabbing your phone and turning it over to see that the screen was still black. "Oh come on, my phone wasn't that dead!"

Charlotte tugged you back and started to brush your hair, not bothering to go slow. "I plugged it in the moment you went to take a shower, just give it a few seconds."

If looks could kill, your phone would be nowhere ready to turn on. You were glaring at the screen as if pure intimidation would turn it on. This could go one of two ways:

1) This person left your suitcase in the dark abyss that is lost luggage at the airport.

or

2) Like you, they didn't realize that they had grabbed the wrong luggage until they went to open it and they'll find your luggage tag and call you.

"Ah!" You yelled, jumping out of the chair as your phone lit up. You leaned over the counter, your heart racing as Charlotte tried to keep brushing your hair. "Come on, come on, come on..."

"Right there," Charlotte said, pointing at your screen as a text message notification popped up on the screen from an unknown number. "That has to be them!"

"Oh thank God," you sighed, thumb ready to swipe the message open. "Oh...yikes."

"Uh," Charlotte laughed as the two of you continued to watch your messages pour in, at least 5 coming in from the unknown number, along with three phone calls. "Yikes indeed, I guess they're panicking just as much as you are."

You swiped on the notifications, unlocking your phone, and going to the message.

unknown: hi y/n i think you grabbed the wrong suitcase...

unknown: yeah, uh, you most definitely grabbed the wrong suitcase.

unknown: is there any way we can switch in the next 30 minutes before i reach my house?

unknown: ok, so i'm sorry for the spam texts and calls...but this is kind of urgent.

unknown: like life or death.

"Life or death?" Charlotte asked, looking at you with a raised eyebrow. "What the hell was in that suitcase?"

"Spike ball and dirty clothes," you replied, shrugging. Your eyes went wide before you turned back to her. "What if they're a drug smuggler and there are drugs in there?"

She opened her mouth to speak before looking down at your phone, nodding. "Now's your chance to find out. Look who's calling."

You looked back down at your phone to see the unknown number flash on your screen. You looked back at her, shaking your head. "You answer it."

"Your luggage, you answer it," she laughed, pulling back segments of your hair to tie back. "But put it on speaker, I'm curious what the drug dealer sounds like."

You shoved your elbow back, avoiding her as you nervously slid your thumb across the screen, answering the call and pressing the speaker button. "Hello?"

"Oh thank God," the unknown called sighed, clearing his throat. "Sorry for the spam calls, I've just been panicking."

"Yeah, I’m sorry...my phone died," you replied, looking at Charlotte as your voice dwindled off.

"The suitcase," she mouthed, nodding her head back towards the room.

"Oh, the suitcase!" You said, almost a little too excited. You cleared your throat, calming yourself down. "I most definitely have your suitcase...maybe."

"Well I have yours," you could hear rustling in the background. "Y/N L/N, right?"

"Yep, that's me," you looked at Charlotte again, shaking your head. "Sorry to kind of do this...but how do I know I have your suitcase? I mean, what if I grabbed someone else's and you grabbed mine and there's three of us in this and–"

Charlotte smacked your back lightly with the back of the brushed, shaking her head as the voice on the other side of the phone laughed. "Um, shit," he coughed, smacking his lips. "Uh well, there should be a spike ball set in there. If not, then I left it at Johnny's. Otherwise, it's just clothes."

"Congratulations," you laughed, leaning back into the chair. "I've got your suitcase."

"Oh thank God, I was really worried there for a second," they replied. "Is there any chance we can exchange them soon?"

"Okay, so about that," you sighed, biting the inside of your cheek. "I kind of have a wedding rehearsal and dinner to go to in 20 minutes...and I don't think that will be over with till about...two hours from now. Is that okay?"

There was silence on the other side and you couldn't help but feel horrible at the fact that you were keeping this stranger away from his luggage and that he had to keep yours until then. "My family and I are going to dinner in two hours, reservation and all."

"Where at?" You spoke before your brain could even catch up with what your mouth was doing. "I'm sorry that was creepy."

He laughed and you felt a little flutter feeling in your stomach. "No, it's fine. I think we're going to Maggiano's in–"

"In the Westfield town center?" Your eyes widened as Charlotte placed the brush down on the counter behind you, looking at you with a smile. "We're going to Pieology in the Westfield town center!"

"Pieology for a wedding rehearsal dinner? Sounds like my kind of party," he laughed. "So, do you just want to exchange then? When I get there and you're leaving?"

"Sounds perfect!"

"Great! So I'll just, text you when I get there and I promise I won't forget the suitcase."

"Okay, I'll see you then."

"All right, bye, Y/N!"

"Bye!" You hung up the call and Charlotte leaned against the counter a smile on her face. "What?"

"He sounded cute." She stuck placed the extra bobby pins she didn't need, onto the counter. "Maybe he can be your date for my wedding."

"Not this again," you groaned, getting out of the chair. "For the last time, I don't need a date. Besides, this guy is a total stranger– I don't even know his name!"

"You can learn it later," she laughed, wiggling her eyebrows. "Either way, do your makeup quickly because we need to leave in ten."

She walked off towards the bedroom the two of you had claimed and you sighed, sitting back down into your seat, grabbing her mascara, blush, and golden liquid shimmer eyeshadow. It was the best you could do for now, until you got all of your stuff back from this stranger. As you applied the eyeshadow, you couldn't get Charlotte's comment out of your head. She was right, he did sound cute. But who's to say that he's not a total creep? Or that he's even your age? He could be in his 40's or even barely cruising 18. And then stood the real issue, you didn't even know his name.

Your phone screen lit up once again and you looked away from the mirror, seeing that you had another text from the unknown number. You furrowed your eyebrows and unlocked your phone, opening his text.

unknown: my name is matt, by the way 😊

[yootaesowlwrites]

You’ve Done Enough - Pascal Wehrlein

A24— “You’ve done enough.”

Warnings: Fluff.

W/C: 823

You stood in tears in front of Pascal, your heart blossoming at the gesture he had done, you weren’t sure what you had done in your previous life to have deserved him, you weren’t even expecting him to remember your one-year anniversary, but here you were being surprised by him, he had arranged for a table to be set up on a rooftop that had a beautiful view over the city lights, candles were lit, and flower petals were scattered over the floor, the wind luckily wasn’t blowing, otherwise it might have ruined some parts of his surprise, he held a single rose in his hand and wore a smile on his lips, you step forward, carefully and slowly, not wanting to fall on your face in from of him, you stop in front of him, bringing your hand to cover your mouth.

“I wish I could do more for our anniversary.” He says, he outstretches his arm, holding the rose out for you, you gently take it in your other hand as you lower your hand covering your mouth.

“Pascal…” You softly say, you throw yourself against him, your arms wrapping around his neck. “You’ve done enough.” tears roll down your cheeks. “More than enough.” One of his hands moves to the back of your head, while his other hand moved to the small of your back, holding you tightly against him.

“Then why are you crying?” He asks.

“You’re a gotdamn fool, Pascal.” You say, slowly pulling back from the hug but remaining in his arms. “These are happy tears.” He lowly chuckles.

“Oh.” He says.

“Gosh… thank gosh you’re my fool.” You say, you move one of your hands to the back of his head, gently pushing on it, he quickly gets the message and lays his head against yours. “I don’t know what I’d do if you were someone else’s and I was stuck with an asshole.”

“You’d have been so sad.” He says, you softly giggle, your eyes crinkling as you do.

“You’re right… I’d be very sad.” You say. “But thankfully the universe was kind to me and brought you to me.”

“This is our anniversary, I’m supposed to give the speech, baby.” He says.

“Well, too bad.” You say, you brush your lips against his, you had waited long to taste him, almost all day, he had missing for most of the day, which had you thinking that he had forgotten all about your anniversary, but no, he surprised you.

“Baby…” He whispers once you pull away from the kiss. “Did you think I forgot?” You kept your eyes closed, but you could feel his gaze burning into you.

“I… yes.” You say, you feel him unwrap his arms from around you, your eyes instantly open. “Wait.”

“Oh, no, no, I can’t let that go.” He says. “Now I need to make sure you remember today, remember that I’ll always remember our day.” He takes your hand and leads you to the table that had been set up, he picks up a glass and an open bottle of appletiser, knowing that you weren’t big on drinking alcohol, but also wanting to give the feeling of celebration since it looked like champagne, he pours some into your glass before handing it to you, he picks up a glass for himself and fills it, he puts the bottle down and steps closer to you. “Like this, let’s be cheesy.” He hooks his arm with yours.

“Isn’t this something they do at weddings?” You ask.

“I don’t know… do they?” He asks. “But who cares, no one can tell us no, now come one, don’t make me do this alone while you watch.” You smile wide and move the glass closer to your lips, both of you stumbling and struggling a bit, but eventually, you manage to take a sip, your faces were close to each other causing the glasses to clink against each other’s every time you slightly moved, you move the glass away and wait for him to finish drinking.

“This is actually good, I thought it would taste bad.” You say, you unhook your arms and place the glass down on the table.

“I went in search for the best.” He says. “Google helped a lot.” You smile and move towards the edge of the building, looking down at the twinkling city lights, Pascal walks up behind you, and wraps his arms around you from behind. “Happy anniversary, Y/n.” You softly smile, feeling his chin resting on your shoulder and his hands covering your middle. “Thank you for staying with me an entire year.” You place your hands on top of his, his scent and warmth enveloping you. “Thank you for agreeing to go on a date with me a year ago.” You turn your head slightly, your lips touching his cheek, he turns his head, moving it so that his lips were touching yours.

[onthesandsofdreams]

The Actor In The App [2/?]

Pairing: Cassian x Jyn Rating: T Summary: Jyn stumbles with her words, how in the hell was she to guess that the actual Cassian Andor was in a dating app? “Uh, hi,” is all she manages to get out. Then she shakes her head quickly, “I’m Jyn from the app, you gave me your number.” “Ah, I was wondering if you would ever call.” Words: 1581 Notes: Celebrity AU Tagging: @mousedetective

Read @ AO3 | Chapter 1

Jyn stumbles with her words, how in the hell was she to guess that the actual Cassian Andor was in a dating app? “Uh, hi,” is all she manages to get out. Then she shakes her head quickly, “I’m Jyn from the app, you gave me your number.”

“Ah, I was wondering if you would ever call.”

She can hear the smile on his voice. “I – uh, I was terribly busy.” It’s not a lie, but also helps that she had to make up her mind. For someone who was so intent in unmasking the man, she now feels like she has egg on her face. But then again, how could she know he was real?

“Yes, I imagine that. I have some friends who are chefs, it’s a demanding life.” He sounds very understanding. “And how have you been?”

“Good, I mean, busy.” She says automatically. But then, her brain wakes up and she adds, “And how come Cassian Andor is on a matchmaking up?”

It is then that he laughs, “Well, I haven’t had any luck when it comes to dating, so I said, ‘why not?’ and made an account. But you’re still the only one to contact me, if only to try and expose a fake.”

She snorts. “Yeah, I’m not going to apologize for that.”

“And you shouldn’t.” He says firmly. “You followed your gut, and I’ve always been a believer that you have to trust your gut.”

Huh, she was not expecting that. He was far more reasonable than a celebrity would be, at least compared to some she had known in her line of work. “Thanks.” Then, she hesitated. “Listen, I’m still trying to wrap my head around you being an actual celeb, do you – uh, mind if we video chat?”

A chuckle was his answer, “Not at all, do you have something to write it down?”

“Yeah,” Luckily, she’s sitting at her desk and she has an assortment of pens and notepads. “When you’re ready.”

“I’m on skype, it’s Jeron2.0 – yes, very original I know. Cap on the ‘j’. What’s yours?”

“Stardust.Erso, with caps on the s and e. And before you ask, it was my dad who called me stardust.” As she speaks, she turns the laptop on and logs in and adds Cassian to her contacts. “I’m on skype now, just added you.”

“Give me a sec.” She hears him fumble with something, and muttering quietly in Spanish. And then, “I’m in and I’m adding you back. So… see you in a bit?”

“Yeah,” She’s thankful that for once, her make up is still intact. There’s no need for her to make the wrong impression right of the bat. A few seconds later, they connect. And there, on the other side of the screen is Cassian. And he’s smiling at her and she feels her heart skip a beat. “Hey, nice seeing you.”

His smile widens, “Likewise.”

And that is how it really starts. For her, it’s strange having a celebrity on her contacts, most of the ones she’s known, it’s due to her work and that was still on them employer-employee line and there were certainly not any sort of crossing. And they somehow manage to talk for an hour that first time, the next call lasts nearly as long.

“…and so I had to lie to my make up artist and said I was getting laid.” He stops and the sighs. “She probably thinks that I’m a weirdo.”

She can’t help it. She laughs, because it’s really funny that he was so excited about getting that movie role. “That’s hilarious.”

“Well, I’m very glad you think so.”

But she discovers that Cassian is easy to talk. It feels strange, at first, having someone to talk who isn’t Bodhi or Chirrut or Baze who can sit quietly and let her talk. Who pays attention and asks questions about her. She’s not so callous as to only talk about herself, she hears him talk about his work. About the ups and downs and how mentally exhausting it all can be.

“And let me tell you, that director is a monster and I refuse to work with him again. He’s a tyrannical asshole.”

“Sounds awful. I’m sorry you had to deal with that.” And she is, she’s had bosses who believed themselves lords of the kitchen and a single thing done their wrong would result in getting yelled face to face. “But you were awesome in that role, I must say.”

She has no experience on that, but she offers her sympathy and rants alongside him. They exchange texts almost daily, they talk whenever possible – as long as Cassian’s schedule permits, that is – and they are now friends on instagram too, she had already followed his public one, but now she has his finsta. Once, even he had sent her a video tour of his newest movie set. And she likes that little peak at celebrity life that he allows her to see.

One time, as they talk, he tells her, “You know, I considered a music career once.”

That catches her attention, “I didn’t know you could sing?”

She watches as he bursts in laughter, and she likes the way his eyes sparkle even on her screen. “I can’t. That’s the thing. I’m a better dancer than singer.”

“Yes,” It’s her turn to laugh. “I did see you in ‘Dancing Queen’, you were pretty good. Looked quite professional.”

He laughs again. “You have no idea just how much I practiced for that movie, but I had fun making, not going to lie.”

“How’s this one going, it’s a what? Horror?”

“Yeah, it’s fun. For the most part, I don’t quite like being sticky with fake blood.”

“Ohh is one of those movies.”

“Yeah,” he sighs. “But I liked the script. And it’s a challenge for me, I want to open myself to more genres of films. Why not start with horror? You know, just… jumping into the deep.”

“And what is something you’d like to do?”

“Historical could be fun. Never made one, and it would be interesting in just walking around in period clothing.”

She snorts, “Didn’t take you for someone who likes fashion.” He has always looked impeccable on the red carpet and photoshoots, but she has seen paparazzi pictures and his looks have been comfortable. Like a regular guy in jeans and shirt.

“I’m not,” he laughs. “But c’mon, those period pieces look great. Oh shit, Jyn, I have to go, my assistant’s glaring at me, it seems that we have to return to filming. Talk to you soon.”

“Yeah, go. Off to work. Bye.”

“Bye.” He hangs up and she can’t help but to laugh again. She had met his assistant, Kay, once and it had nearly ended in a virtual fight. Apparently, Kay was very protective of Cassian and he didn’t trust her at all. Not that she could blame him, she was new to Cassian’s circle, but it galled.

Shaking her head, she put her phone away. Maybe she should write? That way she could take away her mind of Cassian, if only for a little while. Because now, she finds that he has been rounding her head quite a bit and well… it’s slightly worrisome.

“And how’s your book coming along?”

She sighs. “I have the worst writer’s block that I’ve ever experienced.” She waits for him to say anything about writer’s block being only in her head. But when only a ‘Mmmh’ comes, she frowns. “I just don’t know what to do.”

“How about this,” he speaks slowly, as if he were measuring his words. “Why don’t you take a few days off of writing – wait don’t hang up yet! – and do something that you normally wouldn’t do.”

Her frown deepens. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, miss Erso, that I think you need to refill your creative well. Listen, it also happens to me. I’m not a writer, but sometimes I feel like quitting, so I do something I would normally wouldn’t do and rest and recharge. I feel much better afterwards.”

“Any suggestions?”

“Painting, pottery.”

Huh, she’d never given that much thought. “That came quite quickly to you.”

A chuckle. “Yeah, I did pottery once. I’m terrible at it, before you ask. But it was a fun activity, I still have the crappy plate I made. And painting? Well, my mom used to paint, and she always said that you could always be terrible, but someone out there, would like it.”

She doesn’t coo, but she damn near does. It’s heartwarming listening to him talk about his mom. That’s something they have in common, their undying love for their mothers. “You know what? I’m going to do it.”

“That’s the spirit! Let me know how it goes.”

“I will. Listen I have to go.”

“Got it, see you soon Jyn.”

“Bye Cass.” Because yes, they’ve progressed into her calling him ‘Cass’. And she hangs up, but as soon as she does, she goes into google and finds the nearest pottery workshop closest to her.

She takes a class, finds herself enjoying it and she ends with a halfway decent mug. She feels both relaxed and accomplished. She snaps a picture of the mug, posts it on her instagram and tags Cassian. And if her heart skips a beat when he answers with a ‘Go Jyn!’ and a heart emoji, well… no one needed to know.

[suchalonelysunflower]

“Entangled” (c.h) (h.s)

Pairing: Calum Hood X Reader / Harry Styles X Reader

Requested: Yes!

Summary: You never wanted to be caught up in a love triangle, you never asked to be entangled in this situation. Now you have a choice to make. You know it has to be one of them at the end but, who would it be? And why is it so hard?

Warnings: Love Triangle! Pinning, unrequited love, language, angsty with a little fluff, mentions of alcohol and some grammatical error (English is not my first language, I’m sorry)

Word Count: 7.2 k

Author’s Note: Requested by my darling @rime-warrior a few weeks ago, I decided to turn her wonderful promt into a series. This part serves as the intro of the series! It starts with the reader in the “present” (just go with it) and then it will follow their journey with the boys since 2014. Reblogs, comments and feedback are always welcome 💕 You can read my other works for Harry and 5SOS HERE. Hope you like it and happy reading 🦋✨

@rime-warrior : Hi! I’m back lol I loved the heather imagine and I was wondering if you could do a calum/reader/Harry imagine where they’re on tour and trying to get the readers attention by being goofballs

Part 1: The beginning.

Never in a million years did you think you would end up making a decision like this. Hell, never in a million years did you think you would be here in the first place! If somebody would’ve come to you a year ago to tell you that you would’ve been in one of the biggest reunion tours of one of the biggest boy bands that's ever existed and one of the greatest pop/alt bands of the new generation you’d call them crazy and probably pepper spray them as you run away. But here you are and, surprisingly, it’s the last place you want to be at.

You are currently sitting at the stairs outside the venue, it’s the last concert on the “Here We Go Again” One Direction/5 Seconds of Summer Reunion Tour. Tapping your feet relentlessly against the cold metal and regretting not bringing a jacket with you as you can hear the fans going crazy inside the stadium, and who could blame them? They waited so long to see their favorite people again, not only that but together! After almost six years apart. You would’ve been just like them if it weren’t for the stomach ache your nerves are giving to you at this exact moment.

You knew what you had to do. It was the right thing after all, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt like crazy. Somehow you were going to lose someone tonight and you weren’t ready for that, you’ll never be ready for that.

How the hell did this all start in the first place? How did you become so entangled in this mess without realizing? And how would you get out of it?

So many thoughts are running through your head, yet none of them seem to stick around for more than ten seconds before rushing onto another. Head spinning at a thousand miles per hour as you clenched your fists at the side of your body, knuckles turning white as they grasped the cold and dirty metal of the staircase.

You could run… you were kinda fast and they are all inside so they wouldn’t be able to catch you. Maybe you could move to Peru, you always wanted to visit Machu Picchu and its alpacas, plus the ponchos look really good on you. The problem was that 1. You didn’t know Spanish. 2. You had exactly 9.57 dollars left on one of your pockets because you left your wallet inside and 3. You weren’t a coward.

Well, you were. That's why you let it come this far. But you were not going to do that anymore. You need to make a decision and it has to be tonight. But why was it so hard though?

***************************************************

A few years ago

“Y/N! C’mon!” You heard your best friend say “We are going to be late again!”

Lottie was impatiently pacing around the hotel room once again, she had her bags around her shoulders as she considered leaving you behind.

“You know I have to start early today! There’s gonna be four more people to style and I don’t want to do it all rushed.” She whined, sitting on one of the beds.

You came out of the bathroom soon after, cheeks a little bit flushed because it wasn’t like you to slow things down, especially when it came to work. But you wanted to look cute today, well, more cute than usual.

The tour was about to start and you were lucky enough that management let you come with Lottie to work on the stylish team with her. Her older brother, Louis, was a close friend of yours as well, so when he proposed the idea a few months back, you just couldn’t resist.

“Sorry, love” you replied sheepishly “I lost track of time”

Lottie lifted her gaze towards you and rolled her eyes playfully “Oh, shush. You and I both know that you are bluffing. I know exactly what you’re doing wearing that outfit and honestly? Can’t blame ya”

She was right, she’s always right when it comes to these kinds of stuff.

It’s not like you’ve never met the guys! I mean, you know Louis and Zyan because of Lottie, you’ve never seen the other members of the band in person, yet. But it’s not like you don’t know them either, they are everywhere! It was impossible to escape from the impact One Direction had. And now you were going to work with them as a stylist, it seemed like a dream.

Not only that, but you were also in charge of styling the opening number: An Australian band called 5 Seconds of Summer that Louis likes. You don’t know much about them other than this is the second time they’ll open for One Direction and they’ll be around for the European and American leg of the tour. You googled them to have a reference of what they’d look like so you’ll know how to work around them and, honestly, where do they get those guys? They don’t even look like eighteen year olds! And they are also talented and successful at such a young age? You promised yourself that you were going to listen to some of their songs, but still haven’t gotten around to do it just yet, but tonight will definitely change that.

You were nervous. You could feel your hands get clammy just thinking about the pressure that’s on you to make those guys look like absolute gods on stage (though that wouldn’t be a challenge, knowing the nine of them are incredibly handsome already) But that thought didn’t ease you a bit. You wanted to be good. No, scratch that. You know you are good. You want to impress them, hence the cool outfit.

“Think you know it all?” You said, already grabbing a pillow and throwing it to Lottie’s face.

“I know it all, darling” She laughed, throwing it back at you “Now, move your ass. We need to ge to the stadium as soon as possible”

You could hear the fans from a mile away before you walked through the backstage doors. The adrenaline was contagious, everyone was moving around like crazy but you could feel the excitement in the air. You already knew this was where you were meant to be, haven’t even started but you love it already. This was meant to be.

Lottie was walking fast, easily leaving you behind as you stared in awe at your surroundings, not paying any attention towards where you were going until you felt something hard crashing into you, making you lose your balance and you fell to the floor with a massive weight crushing your lungs.

All you could feel was the painful sting that shocked your body as your ass touched the ground with a big “thud” Luckily, the person that knocked you down was quick enough to put a hand behind your head so you don’t hit it too harshly as it came in contact with the cement floors. You tried to curse but the weight in your chest made it almost impossible to talk, making you only gasp in surprise.

The person lying on top of you groaned in discomfort, they must’ve hurt themselves too when you both hit the ground. “Are you okay?” The deep voice said, trying to hide the pain. You opened your eyes at the sound of his voice and were shocked to find two green orbs staring right back at you.

Harry’s face was too close to yours. Noses almost brushing as you took in all the details on his panicked expression. He was beautiful. Breathtaking in the metaphorically and literally since he was still on top of you, crushing your chest with his.

You tapped on his arm trying to push him off you. He seemed to get the hint as he quickly apologized and stood up, offering you his hand to help you do the same. You gladly took it as the air came rushing back to your lungs, a little whine escaping your throat as you felt how your muscles ached after the impact.

“Oh shit, are you hurt?” Harry asked, faced filled with worry as he looked at you up and down, trying to make sure there were no visible injuries.

“Not really, but-“ You said bringing a hand to your lower back and rubbing it gently, hissing when you felt a hint of pain when you touched a certain spot “Definitely gonna bruise in a few hours”

“I am very, very sorry. I didn’t mean to- Do you need ice? I can get you some ice if you-“

“I’m fine” You raised your palm to cut him off, smiling as you saw how worried he actually was “Really, I’m fine. It could’ve been worse if it wasn’t for your hand working as a cushion for my head” You giggled “Are you okay, though?”

Harry nodded, smiling as well “I truly am sorry, I was not paying attention to where I was going”

“Well, that makes two of us. But why were you running?”

“Oh, ’m running away from my bodyguard. You see, they really don’t like it when you do that and steal the keys to the van” He said with mischievous eyes, flashing a smile as he showed you the key dangling in his finger. Soon after, you heard someone yell ‘Harry Styles come back here!’ You couldn’t help but laugh at how ridiculous the situation was. Harry stared at you for a little while, eyes gleaming at the sound of your giggles “Gotta go! Are you sure you’re okay…?”

“Y/N” You said, nodding your head.

“Y/N…” He repeated in a low voice, eyes scanning you once again as he backed away slowly “See yeh round, love” The last thing you saw was his flirty wink before he started running again.

You felt your cheeks get warmer but you were quick to hide it. This was your job, you need to be professional. Though, you gotta admit, having Harry Styles knocking you off your feet on your first day wasn’t bad at all. Really not bad at all.

“There you are!” You heard your best friend call from the other end of the hall “C´mon, we need to set everything up before they come here” Lottie came close to you, softly grabbing you by the hand and tugging it so you could follow her. She had an understanding smile on her face “Don´t worry, I was in the same position as you when I first visited the tour. It's amazing, isn't it?”

“Kinda intimidating, actually”

Lottie laughed and linked your arms together as you walked through the enormous hall downt to a small room.

You spent the next hour or so getting everything ready for when they come, laughing and joking around each other like you always do, making you almost forget that you were here to do a job and not just hang out. That's one of the many good things about the Tomlinsons, they make you feel so comfortable that you forget all your worries.

The playlist you chose was blasting on the small speaker you had brought to entertain yourselves while waiting for the boys. You were both laughing and jumping around with brushes in your hands, pretending they were microphones and you were having your own little concert with the Spice Girls. You were in the middle of your solo, already lost in the sound of Baby Spice´s voice when the door opened at the same time you were stretching your arm in an improvised dance move, accidentally hitting the person next to you with the heavy brush.

“Ouch!” The boy said as he quickly brought his hand to his nose, trying to make sure it wasn't bleeding.

You covered your mouth immediately and threw the brush into one of the cushions “Oh my- I´m so sorry. I'm so so so so sorry” You soon apologized and went over to him, trying to assess the damages and hoping you didn't break his nose “Are you okay? I really am sorry I didn´t-”

The boy opened his eyes, locking them with yours. You have never seen such an intense stare in your life, it was intriguing, magnetic. You could feel yourself blush, but you didn't know if it was because of the embarrassing situation or because you felt intimidated by those brown eyes.

“Uh.. Yeah” He said blinking when he realized he was staring at you for a little too long “I just wasn't expecting that” He chuckled to ease the tension. He had a beautiful smile, like the kind that's just so welcoming and warm, so you couldn't help but join in his laughter.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Lottie trying to hold herself together so she wouldn´t burst into fits of laughter at the scenario playing in front of her. You quickly cleared your throat and asked “Are you sure you are okay? Nothing's broken?”

“Nah, that's just his face” A voice with a thick accent said.

The boy rolled his eyes as you peeked over his shoulders. Leaning into the door frame were three other people, boys of apparently the same age, taller than life and equally amused by his hurt friend. You recognized them immediately (mostly thanks to the color haired boy) They were the opening act. They were 5 Seconds of Summer. And you just hit their bassist on the nose.

“Way to make an impression, Cal” Laughed the boy with the long curly hair. Ashton? or was that Luke?

Calum flipped them off as they made their way into the little room and you felt your cheeks get warmer again. The three of them went to say hi to Lottie, having already met her at the last tour, and started a whole new conversation with her.

“Uhmm, I can go get some ice. If you want?” You asked, feeling a little self conscious now that there were more people in the room.

Calum smiled.

“I´m good, but thanks sweetheart” He winked at you “I´m Calum, by the way” He extended his hand for you to shake.

“Y/N” You said with a smile.

“Beautiful” He said, barely even a whisper before his eyes met yours again and you swore your heart just skipped a beat right there and there.

“Hey, Calum!” Lottie greeted him with a hug “We are starting with you today, okay? Go grab a seat” Calum nodded and sat in front of one of the vanities. Lottie came closer to you and whispered “Talk about a meet cute” She teased.

You rolled your eyes and muttered a “Shut up” before you walked away and started to work with one of the other boys.

This was going to be an interesting first day.

For the next hour or so, you found yourself amazed at the fact of how much you had in common with the Aussie band. You bonded over music, fashion and you laughed at the same dumb jokes, and were genuelly surprised at how grounded they all were. They were just as excited as you for the tour, knowing what big of a chance it was and how lucky they were to be here, just like you. In a matter of minutes you were acting like old friends.

From time to time you would look at Calum over the mirror, only to find that he was already staring at you, flashing you a smile every time your eyes met. He wasn’t much of a chatter like his friends, but he still engaged in every conversation, especially if you were part of it.

When their time at “your office” as Lottie calls it, ended, he was the last one to go out. But before he stepped out the door, he gave one last look at you and said “You’ll be watching our set tonight, right?”

You smiled “Wouldn't miss it”

Calum's smile grew until it almost reached his ears, he muttered a last goodbye before closing the door.

“Well, someone has a crush” You turned around and saw Lottie wiggle her eyebrows in a suggestive way, pressing her lips into a teasing fine line. You just rolled your eyes.

“What are you talking about? He was just being friendly”

“Who was being friendly?” A familiar voice said.

You looked behind you and ran towards the slim figure that just opened the door, pulling him into a hug.

“Louis!” You squealed in excitement, circling your arms around his back as he held tighter to you.

Louis was the closest thing you had to an older brother. Growing up as Lottie’s best friend made you an unofficial member of their family and you loved them all as your own. He was always the life of the party, making jokes, teasing you and sometimes reprimanding you if you messed up. You couldn’t count how many times he took you both for a late night snack or let you hang out with him and his friends when you got bored. He also gave great advice, and you trusted him more than anything (besides Lottie, of course) The day that he went away to chase his dreams was one of the most bittersweet moments of your lives, for one part you were happy for him but you would miss him like crazy.

And now, almost five years later, here you were. The three of you, together again like old times but with a more busy schedule. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Y/N/N! It’s so good to see you, love”

“What? No hug for me?” Said Lottie sarcastically, cocking an eyebrow to his older brother.

“Only if you tell me who was being friendly with Y/N” He said as he let you go and her in for a tight bear hug.

“Who’s being friendly with who?” Someone called out from the door.

The three of you turned around to see Harry leaning onto the door. His brows frowned as his eyes scanned the room until they met yours. If he was surprised to see you there then he didn’t show it. After all, you didn’t get to tell him what you were doing here.

“H!” Lottie gasped in delight as she pushed her brother away and went to hug the curly haired man.

Harry hugged her with the same energy, holding her close and muttering a sweet ‘hello’, just like Louis did with you.

“Oi, mate! Have you met Y/N? The new stylist and best friend anyone could have?” Asked Louis as he put his arm around your shoulder, showing you off like a proud big brother.

Harry looked at you and smiled “Yeah, we ran into each other earlier” He shared a knowing smirk with you and you couldn't help but chuckle a little bit.

“Quite literally, I must say”

He was about to say something when the door opened again, you realized no one here bothered to knock first, apparently. Niall, Liam and Zayn entered the room, ready to get themselves ready before the show. Lottie introduced you to each one of them and immediately started working when she noticed how knotted Niall’s hair was.

The conversations started flowing with ease, all of them genuinely curious to get to know you, convinced that any friend of Louis was a friend of them. They were all very sweet and welcoming, and, just like with the members of 5SOS, you bonded rather quickly. All the nerves you once had easily faded away as you felt more comfortable in this space, more convinced than ever that this was where you were meant to be.

“Oi, what about those pretty eyes you saw earlier, Harold?” Liam’s voice filled the room “Seen them again?”

Harry instantly lifted his gaze to watch his friend through the mirror and shot him a deathly glare “Don't know wha you’re talkin ’bout” He stated.

You could’ve swore he looked your way, just for a moment his green eyes met yours through the mirror. It was quick, almost like a reflex. Maybe you were just imagining things.

“Ooh, does Harry have a crush?” Lottie teased while applying some oils to his curls. He just rolled his eyes “Wouldn’t be the first one to catch feelings in this room”

You snapped your head towards your friend, knowing and dreading what she was going to say next.

“Spill” Said Louis, living for the drama.

“Well…” She started, searching for your face in the mirror. But you quickly averted your eyes, suddenly finding Zayn’s hair very interesting “Let’s just say that one of your Australian mates already started making eyes at our Y/N”

The room filled with “oooohs” and “aaawwws” from all of the boys. All except Harry, who was just staring straight at his reflection with a rather serious look.

You laughed and shook your head “Honestly, Lottie. You are just imagining things”

Staring at the mirror one more time, your eyes quickly met Harry’s green orbs, already staring at you from his seat. You shot him a smile and he returned it as the topic of the conversation changed once again.

Time flew without any of you really noticing it. All the boys were done with their hair and make up, ready to move on to the wardrobe department. Lottie tagged along with Louis, wanting to say hi to a few friends she made last year. You wanted to go too, but a quick glance at your phone made you aware of the time and the promise you had made.

“Oh shoot” You breathed, quickly grabbing your phone from the vanity as you rushed through the door.

“What’s the hurry, love?” Asked Harry, amused at your behavior. You didn’t notice that he was the only person left in the room.

“The show’s about to start and I kinda promise someone that I wouldn’t miss it” You smiled “But, now that I think about it, I don’t even know how to get to the side of the stage!”

Harry got up from his chair, wiping his palms onto his black skinny jeans “I could take you there, but only if you promise to stay there for our set as well”

“What? Are you kidding?” You laughed “You really think I wasn’t planning on doing that already?”

His eyes gleamed with joy at your words and you swore you saw a glimpse of his pink tinted cheeks as he nudged his head and asked you to follow him.

You followed Harry though a complicated mess of halls filled with people running around, making sure that everything was already set to start. You had to admit, he really knew how to navigate, not only on stage but backstage as well, you would’ve gotten lost the moment you stepped outside the door if it weren’t for him.

Once you reached the side of the stage, making sure that you stayed way out of the fans point of view, Harry said he had to go back and change.

“‘S not Ashton, is it?” He asked, just before he turned to leave.

“What?”

“The boy who was a crush on you” He stated, eyes locked to the stage, almost like he was trying too hard not to meet yours “‘s not him, right? Cos I’ve seen him look at my sister and I don’t-“

“Nobody has a crush on me!” You laughed as you rolled your eyes, reminding yourself to kill your friend right after the show. “Lottie was just teasing. Besides, I’m here to work, not to look for a relationship”

Harry nodded, seemingly pleased with your answer, making his way back to the maze called ‘backstage’

You watched him walk away with a soft smile on your face. Harry was not like everyone in the media said he was, and you were glad. You didn’t need more drama in your life, no boyfriends nor toxic relationships. You could feel that this was going to be your safe space, and who knows? maybe when the tour finishes you’ll have a new friend to lean on.

The sound of a guitar riff caught you off guard, pulling your attention away from the black background and into the stage. You could hear the fans go absolutely bonkers as the four Australians came into view, smiling as they took their places on stage.

Sharing one understanding look among each other, Ashton banged his drumsticks together, setting the pace for their first song. The crowd goes wild as they recognize the melody immediately, singing and jumping along the words of a song about a girl friendzoning one of the guys.

They sounded incredible. It was hard to imagine that they were still teenagers like yourself, like most of the people in the crowd, actually. The way they moved on stage was erratic, always walking around and messing with each other as they sang and played their instruments like it was nothing. It was easy to tell that they’ve been friends for a long time now and they feel comfortable with each other, having the most fun up there, seizing every moment like it was their last,

You, on the other hand, found yourself enjoying their set a little too much. Since you’ve never gotten the chance to actually listen to most of their songs before tonight, you were quite surprised at how much fun and kinda edgy they were, making you want to dance and jump like the rest of the fans. So you did. You didn’t care about if people around you were watching, you just let yourself go to the rhythm and enjoyed your night. This was the beginning of your new life, what better way to celebrate it than letting all your worries go while your new favorite band played on stage, just mere meters in front of you.

You were so lost in your own little world, completely immersed in the music, that you didn’t notice the looks Calum gave to you while onstage. Everytime he had the chance, his head spinned towards you, watching with joy as you danced along to their songs. Once you caught his eyes staring at you, you smiled at him and stuck your tongue out, mocking him. He just laughed wholeheartedly, bringing one finger to the side of his nose, the same one you punched a few hours ago. You did the same without questioning it, turning that little gesture into your first inside joke.

The guys played a few more songs before their set ended. Calum came to you as soon as they finished their bows.

“Hey!” He said, still pumped with adrenaline.

He was sweaty, very sweaty. But his energy was contagious as he flashed one of his beautiful smiles to you, eyes shining from excitement.

“You came!”

“Told ya I was going to!” You exclaimed “You guys are amazing!”

“You really think so?” Calum looked like a boy on Christmas, genuinely happy that you like how they sound like “Or are you just being nice because you almost broke my nose?”

“Almost! That’s the key word there” You chuckled “But no, I’m being honest. You killed it tonight!”

Calum’s smile almost reached his eyes, making all of his little dimples pop out as he looked at you softly.

“Hey… Uhm.. I need to get back to our dressing room, Wanna come with me?” He asked, suddenly shy.

“Sure!” You said, making his eyes sparkle “Then we can come back and watch the others perform”

Calum furrowed his eyebrows “Oh, you’re staying for that?” He sounded a little bit disappointed.

“Well, yeah? How could I miss it” You chuckled, but stopped once you saw his expression change “Why? You’re not staying for the whole show?”

“Management doesn’t let us stay long after our set”

You muttered a surprised ‘oh’ That wasn’t fair at all! Why couldn’t they enjoy the show like the rest of you? Or even just stay backstage and do nothing but chill until the show was done? You could see Calum was disappointed in that fact too, it must be a bummer for them not to have the full experience.

“But..” He said smiling, bringing his eyes up to meet with yours again “There is an after party at the hotel later tonight, will I see you there as well?”

You nodded “Of course! I’ll be there”

“Yes! Can’t wait!” He jumped in excitement as he took a step forward and started walking towards the dressing rooms. Not before turning back around and saying “See ya there, Y/N” Putting his finger to the side of his nose and smiling when you did the same.

A few minutes later Lottie showed up beside you, knowing the concert was about to start.

“How did the guys do?” She asked.

“Oh, they were amazing! I don´t know why I´ve never heard of them until a few weeks ago!”

She hummed “Yes, they are pretty good. How was Calum?”

You looked at her confused. Was this going to become a thing now? Couldn't you just have a friend without getting involved in some relationship drama? It was frustrating and it will only end up making things awkward for everyone. It has happened before and you were not ready to experience that again.

She seemed to notice your discomfort and immediately changed the topic. Not wanting to upset you. Clearing her throat she said “Uhm.. the boys really like you”

You snapped your head towards her direction.

“They´ve talked about you a little bit, they all say you are really nice and all the yadah yadah I already know” She smiled “Harry was especially pleased with your work. He says could come and stay with me permanently on the team”

You blushed at his compliment, but before you could even say anything you were interrupted by his voice.

“Straight off the plane to a new hotel..”

The fans go wild. Quite feral, you might add. But you couldn't blame them, not even a little bit. The five boys walking down the runway was truly a sight to behold.

You felt the goosebumps run around your body as the energy grew into something quite impossible to understand. This was it. This was the feeling everyone's been talking about, and now it was your turn to experience it every night.

As the music flew through the stadium. All five of them took over the stage like it was their home, and in some way, it was. They practically grew up there, being in the spotlight since a very young age and stealing the hearts of millions around the world. They were as professionals as they were goofy, always finding an excuse to have fun and tease each other in the middle of the songs and with the public, creating an atmosphere of pure bliss wherever they went on that huge structure in the middle of the stadium.

With every song they sang, Lottie grabbed your arm and started dancing and jumping like it's the first time she heard their music and you did the same, getting completely lost in the feeling, so much so that you didn't even notice how much time had passed and just before you know it, the concert was getting to an end.

When the last song came through, the guys were scattered around the stage, running around as they took in everything they could from this experience. At some point, Harry stood right in front of you, just like Calum did a few hours ago, and while he sang his heart out, his eyes connected with yours. His green eyes sparkled like stars when he met your gaze, only for a second too long before he joined his brothers in the middle of the runway, ready to give one final bow and exit the stage where he came from.

“C´mon!” Said Lottie, pulling you out of your trance “They are going to shower and get ready for the after party. We should get going now, because I am not going to show up there with this outfit!”

You laughed at her and followed her to grab a cab, feeling more than excited for the afterparty.

You walked along the lobby, Lottie right by your side. Both of you clean, fresh and looking hot as hell as you made your way to the venue. To say you were nervous was an understatement, you were downright terrified. This was your first VIP party celebrating, not only your first day, but also the first day of one of the biggest tours of the year.

“Hey,” Lottie calmed you down, placing her little hand on your shoulder. “We did an amazing job today, sweetie. It’s time to celebrate”

You nodded and let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, trying to calm the stomach ache that your nerves created and opening the door of the hotel club.

You immediately got caught up in the dark atmosphere, flashing colored lights flying around the room and reflecting themselves onto the mirrored dance floor. Out of the corner of your eyes you spotted a few people sitting on the bar stools, some were already on the dance floor and others were just sitting on dark booths pulled against the walls, chilling as they watched the party go by. You recognize some of them, but most of them were strangers, elite people that came to celebrate and wish another successful tour for the boys.

The pressure on your chest became tighter. You grabbed Lottie‘s hand and felt some kind of comfort when she squeezed it for a second, at least you weren’t alone.

“LOTTIE!” Someone called from one of the dark booths. You could recognize Zayn’s thick accent anywhere. With one reassuring look, Lottie pulled your hand and guided you through the sea of people flooding the room.

Once you reached the booth it was easier to identify its occupants. Zayn was sitting next to Louis who, at the same time, was beside Ashton and Luke. You all exchanged your hellos as you took a seat next to Lottie.

“What’d think of the show?” Asked Louis, taming a sip of his beer.

The group started rambling on and on about the different parts of the show, their favorite moments and about the craziest fans they managed to see. You spend quite a bit talking and laughing with the guys, slowly getting more comfortable being there. It’s not like you didn’t enjoy parties at all, on the contrary, you loved them. The problem was that this was new territory, pleasure mixing with your responsibilities and you didn’t want to fuck this up. The sheer thought of that possibility made you feel ill again and you wanted nothing more than to breathe a little air into your lungs before you passed out from overthinking too much.

Scanning the room you spotted a glass door that led to some sort of balcony, you cheered internally “I’ll be right back” You whispered to Lottie, who was having a nice chat with Luke about his bone structure. She looked at you, worried. You smiled at her “I’m just going to get some air, keep talking. I won’t take long”

You almost sprinted to the door, heart racing at the thought of a moment alone to gather yourself. Once the cool air of the night grazed your skin, you felt like you could finally breathe properly. You always felt more like yourself when nighttime arrived, it was complicated to explain but it seemed like the stars could understand you better than anyone. They were your comfort and your confidants, because no matter what, you knew they wouldn't ever leave you alone.

“‘S nice to know ‘m not the only one who needed a break” You heard a familiar voice say next to you.

Harry was standing next to railing, green eyes fixed on you as you took a step closer.

“You’re not having fun?” You asked, resting your elbows on the cold metal of the balcony.

“Parties are all the same after a while,” He said absentmindedly “‘m just really tired”

“Well, that’s understandable. After the night you had? If I were you I would be sleeping until I turned 40!”

Harry laughed and shook his head at your comment “How’s your bum?”

“My what now?”

“Your ass” He said pointing at your backside “From the fall?”

“Oh! It’s fine, just a little bruised up. Which is surprising since I expected a lot worse from being run over by a six foot man”

He smiled “‘m sorry, love. If it makes you feel better I got my ass handed to me by a six foot five man right after that”

“Yeah, that does make me feel better” You chuckled, looking at the sky again “Still can’t believe I’m here”

Harry came closer to you, his arm barely inches from yours. You didn’t notice as he studied your face carefully, almost like he was trying to remember every detail “‘s like a dream, isn’t it?”

“It truly is. I-“ You turned your face to him, only to find his way closer than you remember “Is everything alright, Harry?”

He hummed, distancing himself from you as he laid his back to the railing “Just thinking”

“About?”

“That I might actually enjoy the parties if you’re around”

You were about to return the compliment when you heard the glass door open with a ferocious amount of force.

“Y/N!” Lottie yelled from the insides of the party “Get your little perky arse in here! They’re playing our song!”

You knew better than to say no to that. So you laughed as you made your way back inside, but not before saying bye to Harry.

“I’ll come and find you soon” He said with a dashing smile.

“As long as you don’t throw me to the ground, then that’s okay”

You grabbed Lottie’s hand and she pulled you over to the dance floor, not wasting any time before she started moving along to the song blasting from the stereos, you joined her almost instantly.

At that moment, you didn’t care who saw. You were having the time of your life dancing with your best friend in a party celebrating your new life. Your new beginning. Yes, you were scared. But why be scared now? Why don’t just enjoy the moment? Life’s too short to be moping around hypotheticals. Right now, you wanted to dance.

And you did, for five more songs you let all your worries go down the drain. Tonight you were living the dream and you silently promised yourself to cherish every moment like it’s the last one, no time for worries nor fears. Just fun.

“Ugh! I need a wee!” Lottie called over the music.

“I’m gonna grab some water!” You said to her before each of you made your way to your own destinations.

Once you reached the bar, you tried and failed to get the bartender’s attention. Them being to worried about the other clients waiting for a line of shots at the other side of the bar.

Wanting to rest your feet for a while, you decided to sit up on one of the tall stools they had, trying to catch your breath after that intense dance workout you just had. Your eyes began to wander across the room again out of curiosity, you wanted to know what your friends were up to at the moment.

You quickly found Liam and Niall on the dance floor, trying to copy some choreography they probably saw online and failing miserably while doing so. Louis, Zayn and Ashton were still at the booth, they were laughing hard at something that Josh had said, making Louis spill his drink onto the table. You scanned the room a little bit more, pretending like you were in a game of ‘Where’s Waldo?’ Without looking for anyone in particular. That’s when your eyes met Calum’s.

He was sitting at the other end of the bar, eyes already fixed at you when you met them. When he noticed you were staring, he quickly shot you a smile and brought his finger to the side of his nose, remembering your secret greeting from earlier. You smiled back and did the same, beckoning him to come talk to you.

He was by your side in a second

“Hey you!” He said excitedly “Was wondering where you went”

“I was just dancing with Lottie a few minutes ago” You pointed out the dance floor.

“Oh I know, hard to keep the eyes from ya” He smiled “Looks like karaoke is not your only talent”

“Oh shut up!” You laughed as you playfully punched him in the arm “I could still break your nose, you know?”

“I’m completely aware, darling. Wouldn’t mind it if you did, though”

You rolled your eyes at him “Are you having fun?”

“I am now”

You laughed again and Calum swore he had never listened to such a beautiful sound before. His brown eyes met yours again, trying to communicate everything you needed to know with just one gaze, just one moment. He was never a man of many words, but he hoped that this would be enough.

“So..” You said, trying not to get lost in his stare but failing miserably as you felt how his dark eyes took you in “What’ve you been doing, if you weren’t having fun?”

Calum smiled and shook his head “Trying to get Michael and Luke out of trouble-“

“CALUM” A voice was heard from across the room, probably Luke’s

“Like I said…” He pointed behind you at the two young men on the dance floor next to Liam and Niall, trying to balance some beer bottles onto Niall’s quiff “Cal! Come here!”

Calum sighed “I better go see what they’re doing”

“Make sure they don’t hurt themselves, I certainly don’t want to deal with covering them with make up tomorrow if they end up cutting their faces off” You joked.

“I’ll take that into account” He chuckled “I’ll find you later, Y/N” Calum said, turning around to their friends.

After a while, you decided to go over the booth and hang out with Louis, not wanting to be alone on a stool bar any longer.

“I can see you’re having fun, aren’t ya, love?” He said, putting his arm around your shoulder in a brotherly kind of way.

“I am, in fact. Thank you for asking”

“Been a bit flirty from what I can see as well, haven’t ya?”

You looked at him. He had a smug smile on his face, one brow raising teasingly as he waited for your answer. What did he mean by that?

“Uhm.. what? I haven’t been flirting with anyone” You state, confused by his question.

“Yeah? Do they know that?” Louis said, pointing behind you.

You turned your head to where he was pointing and you could see Calum and Harry, both coming from different sides of the room each one with two drinks in their hands, approaching the booth. Both of their eyes were fixed on you as they walked closer and closer, until they stopped completely in front of you.

It seemed like only then did they acknowledge each other, as they comically turned their heads to their side, looked down at each other’s drinks and then lifted their gaze to meet again face to face, mirroring each other’s movements and expressions.

“Guess you got a handful there, love” Louis whispered in your ear.

Oh, boy.

Part 2

[district2001]

Another Canadian

Seventeen AU: 14th member

ERA: Clap

Jangmi ft. Dino x The Boyz (Kevin) 

Recap: Jangmi and Chan meet Kevin (The Boyz) after Music Bank

Words: 1.3k

AN: Requests are OPEN: Please please please send me what you want to see from Jangmi. I’m also open to feedback :)

CHECK OUT MY MASTERLIST FOR MORE JANGMI CONTENT XX

Jangmi’s Masterlist

Yes. I actually googled and found out when SVT x The Boyz could have had interactions, And coincidentally SVT were performing on The Boyz debut music show performance. So this occurred on the 12th of December 2017 (we love research).

The Boyz comeback was todday and I absolutely love the song. And the dance. And the visuals (what else did we expect from them).

Also also: Did you guys like the little feature of another Canadian at the very end/ I think it’s time you meet all of Jangmi’s friends, and get to know her social circle out of SVT.

Send me requests for scenarios w. your ults (even if they aren’t in SVT) and I’ll write a lil something something Xx

“Chan-nah!” Jangmi whined. “Why do I need to come with you to the vending machine?”

Dino laughed, while dragging his twin-maknae down the Music Bank Corridor. “Because, last time Vernon left by himself to get food, we nearly left him for soundcheck.”

“That’s because Vernon’s stupid.” Jangmi stopped as Dino kept pulling a push door. “And clearly you’ve been spending too much time with him.”

Chan squeezed her hand tightly, causing her to yell in pain and shimmy her hand out of his grip.

They were currently on their last day of promotions for Clap, and Jangmi wouldn’t be lying if she said she was a little relieved that it was over. She was missing having sugar-filled cereal every morning, and not going to bed starving. Luckily, her members still snuck her snacks over promotions. And hopefully Chan would aswell right now.

Jangmi turned around to face Chan, as she used her back to push through the door. “Do you think there’ll be Chilli flavoured Chi-“

Her question was abruptly cut off, as she collided into someone. The impact wasn’t that strong thankfully, so she regained her balance quite quickly.

“Crap!” The person she bumped into muttered under their breath.

She quickly turned around to face them, hoping that it was a hoobae or someone she knew (preferably Monsta X considering they were performing aswell). She’d be absolutely mortified bumping into her sunbaenim.

“Oh my god! I’m so sorry” Jangmi cried out in English, finally taking in the persons appearance. He looked slightly older than her, or maybe the same age-she couldn’t tell.

She then realised that she hadn’t even apologised in the correct language. “Neomu mianhabnida.” She corrected herself, whilst bowing.

She heard Chan sniffle in his laughter. She mentally cursed him, as well as reminding herself to eat the majority of his chips.

“I’m sorry.” The boy replied, also whilst bowing.

Only then then did she notice that his white shirt was slightly damp in the middle, and that there was a small puddle of brown liquid near his shoes.

“Did I do that? I’m truely sorry, I’m such a klutz. Hopefully you don’t have anywhere to be after this.” She started rambling, as she took some tissues out of her demin jacket pocket, and started furiously wiping the floor.

The boy then crouched beside her, grabbing some of the unused tissues for her hand and started helping her clean up the mess, as well as dabbing some of the hot chocolate from his shirt.

Jangmi decided this was probably the best opportunity to find out who the boy was. He was clearly an idol, considering he was dressed nicely, and had some makeup on his face. She was fairly certain he wasn’t a sunbaenim, but she wanted to make sure.

“Anneyonghaeyo, Seventeen maknae Jangmi imnida” She introduced herself, swiping away the last bit of chocolate evidence.

The boy gave a mini bow to her, or as well as one could bow whilst squatting. “I’m Kevin. Nice to meet you”

“Ohhh! Kevin. You are a foreigner?” Jangmi was curious. She needed some Australian friends badly.

“Yes. I’m from Canada.” Jangmi mentally sighed in disappointment.

“Why is everyone from Canada.” She playfully groaned in English, as she stood up and patted her skirt down. “Well in that case, You can call me Rydel if you want. It’s nice to meet you.” She held out her hand.

Kevin shook her hand.

“Wait, like the highschool in Grease?” He asked as he grabbed the chocolate soaked tissues from her left hand.

Jangmi protested. “I’ve got that, don’t worry.”

“No. it’s ok. It was my drink anyway.”

“Yea, but I was the one not looking where I was going.” She laughed. “I’m a bit clumsy.”

“Aren’t we all?” Kevin threw the tissues into the nearest bin, before walking back to Jangmi.

“Are you a soloist?” She was curious about him.

“No no. I could never. I’m part of The Boyz.” He smiled widely. “We actually debuted today.”

“Congratulations,” Jangmi exclaimed, slightly louder than she anticipated.

“Jangmi-yah. Be quiet.” Jangmi then realised that Dino was still with them.

Kevin and Dino both bowed politely towards each other.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Dino.”

“Nice to meet you, I’m The Boyz’s main vocalist Kevin.”

Jangmi fake frowned, teasing her hoobae. “How come I didn’t get a proper greeting from you.”

“Sorry. I’m sort of new at this.” Kevin sheepishly replied in Korean.

“It’s ok. Everyone’s new at this at one point. Ask him about all the stupid things I’ve done.” She gestured at her twin-maknae

A silence followed. Jangmi looked over to see if Dino would contribute to the conversation, but he was too busy looking at something on his phone.

“What company are you under?”

“Crek.er”

“Wait, is that the one with Haknyeon, from Produce?” Dino asked, looking up from his phone.

Kevin nodded. “He’s actually in our group.”

“JR mentioned that he was one of the nicest contestants.” Jangmi added.

“Really?” Kevin asked. “That’s good to hear.”

“I think I read an article about your group.” Dino continued. “You have lots of members like us, yeah?”

Kevin nodded, taking a sip of his hot chocolate, or whatever was left of it. “Not as many as you though. We have 12.”

Jangmi was going to give some advice on being in a large group, when she was pulled away from their conversation, quite literally, by one of her managers.

“We’ve been looking everywhere for you two.” The manager pointed the twin-maknaes.

“Oops” Jangmi suppressed a grin.

“The vans loaded. It’s time to go.”

Dino whined. “We haven’t even got our snacks yet.”

“Once you are back at Pledis, you can have some-” Their manager stopped mid-sentence and frowned. “What do you mean by ‘we’?”

Jangmi’s eyes widened. “He was referring to getting snacks with Kevin.” She stuttered, as she quickly slung her hands over Kevin’s shoulders, and brought him closer to her, ignoring his shocked expression.

“Kevin, meet our manager. Our manager, meet Kevin from The Boyz.” She introduced.

They both bowed towards each other.

Their manager grabbed Chan’s hoodie and motioned for Jangmi to come closer to her. “You can get some snacks next time, we’re running late for their next schedule.”

She turned to her heel, and walked out the door, dragging Chan with her. “Jangmi, hurry up!” The manager called out as she exited the room.

Kevin cleared his throat, and only then did Jangmi realise her hands were still wrapped over his shoulders.

“Sorry about that.” She hastily removed her hands. “I’m on a strict chicken breast and salad diet, and if I get caught breaking it, I have to run 5km every morning for a week.” Jangmi switched the conversation to English.

Kevin chuckled. “That’s alright.” He too then began speaking in English. “5km though, damn. That’s brutal.”

“You have no idea.” Jangmi rolled her eyes.

“I better head off before they leave me.” She continued. “Congratulations on your debut once again though. Seriously well done! Keep up the hard work.”

Kevin nodded his head in acknowledgement. “Thanks. It means a lot coming from you.”

“I highly doubt that. But I’ll take the compliment.” Jangmi smiled.

“Nah nah. For real. I think you guys have cemented yourselves in the KPOP scene.”

“And I’m sure you guys will aswell.”

“You haven’t even heard our music.” Kevin sarcastically replied, whilst holding the door open for her.

“I’ll download it right now and listen to it on the drive back.” Jangmi immediately took out her phone and began searching up the group.

“You don’t have to do it.” Kevin protested, probably feeling bad that he was forcing her to listen to their music.

Jangmi sushed him and continued typing until she was interrupted by her Jun calling her phone. She pressed the “Can I call you back later?” button, before shoving it back in her phone.

“Duty calls.” She smiled. “If we ever see each other again, don’t be afraid to come and say hi.”

“Will do.” Kevin nodded, before pointing behind him. “I should probably head back aswell. They’re all probably wondering where I am.”

“Can’t loose a member on debut day.” Jangmi chuckled, while waving goodbye.

“Thanks for the advice and being so friendly.” Kevin bowed, and turned around, presumably heading back to his dressing room

“I don’t think I gave you any, but I’ll take it.” Jangmi yelled over her shoulder, as she turned the corridor.

She took out her phone and ignored all of Jun’s messages about all the other van’s leaving, and the performance team still waiting for her.

Jangmi found one of her best friends messages, which were obviously at the top of her texts.

‘Yo Mark’

‘I think I found you another Canadian.’

‘Now find me an Australian’

‘I’m outnumbered’

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