#holy shit i was typing this post and just realized i haven’t talked about my main main verse for jon in a long time jesus christ. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cinnamonest · 3 years

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Since people actually liked it here's the continuation of the modern Xiao camgirl!darling post I cut from the original, as promised, most if it's under a cut. Here’s the original post. I didn’t think people would actually like the camgirl concept so I thought I was rambling too much and cut this part out lol but here it is now!

Tws: derogatory language/female slurs, mentions of reader being a cheater, reader is promiscuous, murder, incel-y mentality (our modern boy would be a 4chan user, look me in the eye and tell me I'm wrong) and mentions of upsetting realistic things, this one's darker than the first part. If you're bothered by other modern stuff for being too realistic best avoid this too probably, involuntary pornography ---------- Coming up on one year since you gained your most loyal subscriber, you get a rather... Unsettling request. He has something he would like this month, in fact, he adds a few hundred to the regular amount (he's been saving up just for this) and asks for just the answer to one simple question. What's your name?

Your real name, he clarifies. He doesn't need a last name, nothing like that. It would just... Make him feel closer to you. He avoids using the term "anniversary," even though that's what comes to mind. He also doesn't tell you that he already knows, that this is just a test of your honesty. For someone who's so cautious, you would think you would think to give a fake name whenever you go to coffee shops for them to yell out, or change it on the packages you get. You hesitate. And it would be easy to give him a fake one, yet, you don't really think about it too much, you kinda think about that as an afterthought, what you should have done, but your very real name is typed out and sent before you really process it, and you feel a sort of unease, but it's already sent. No big deal. He can't do much with just your first name, right? If your name is common, you feel pretty safe, but even if it's a rarer one, surely there are other people with it, right? He's happy though. Kinda surprised, really, that you didn't lie to him. Maybe you trust him?

You're not stupid, you know something is wrong, you're becoming paranoid. And you connect the weird feeling to him, bc he goes radio silence for several days leading up to finally taking you. This dude who used to respond to any messages you sent within 10 seconds suddenly... It's like he disappeared? He hasn't responded to anything you send him ever since you said your name. You send him messages saying you haven't heard from him in a while and you're worried... The way you word it makes it sound like you're worried about him, but you both know that's not what you really mean. You're hesitant and suspicious of every guy you meet. You buy pepper spray and start carrying some around, you nearly spray a poor guy who you thought was trailing you, turns out he just lives in your building. He makes note of it. He watched you buy it, and is quick to realize you always hold it in the same hand. That must be your dominant hand, that's an important mental note for the future, since you're more likely to try to attack him with that hand. He'll remember. He has a note in his phone with information like that. Height, weight, birthday, social security number, parents' names, school she graduated from. All in little bullet points. He adds dominant hand to the list. He's not worried at all really. Already watched you struggle to carry packages he could lift with one hand, your strength doesn't cross his mind as a threat. At first he just doesn't know what to say, and that's why he stops responding, he feels too awkward but... He starts to enjoy the weird feeling of power the whole situation is giving him. You're worried, you're constantly paranoid, and it's because of him. Now you finally understand the same feeling you inflict on him, how you consume his thoughts every waking moment of every day. It used to irritate him that you held so much power over him, while he meant nothing to you. Now, the tables have turned. You're forced to have him constantly in your mind, whether you like it or not, just like you are in his. It's giving you what you deserve. It gives him a feeling of significance. He matters, even if it's not in a good way. And he keeps telling himself that once he's all you have, he'll matter even more. He's smart enough to realize that if you're paranoid, you might have mentioned him by username to someone else, so to ensure he knows what to do from this point, he has to sneak into your apartment at night as you sleep. It's so unbearably tempting, you have no idea -- you're right there and so vulnerable. He has to hold himself back because he knows that if he so much as touched you, he couldn't hold back. But it's torture, standing there so close, watching your chest rise and fall as he fiddles with the phone. Even when he unlocks it with your thumb, he tries to hold the phone from an angle to do so, even if the skin of his hand grazes yours, it would be too much. You have a lot of contacts across your messages and a bunch of different apps. You have one guy in your online chat you've exchanged far more messages with than anyone else! Hundreds upon hundreds of messages, and huge paypal cash drops, who the hell is -- oh, wait, that's him. Nevermind. But, to his pleasant surprise, he's the only one of your... customers that you regularly talk to, the rest just have a few paypal notifications or clarifications on your policies, but no actual conversations like you have with him. Of course, that's literally part of your deal, he's literally paying for it, but it makes him happy nonetheless. But as he goes through your personal messages, he finds that you are... in no shortage of options. Like, holy shit. It was kind of expected. You *are* really pretty, that's how you have so many followers after all, but this is a lot. So many contacts named some variation of "DO NOT ANSWER!!!" or "creepy guy that forced me to give him my number at the club", etc etc. Plenty of unsaved numbers texting you to never get a response. You've ghosted enough dudes to make your place haunted. It's... kinda awful, really. It also kinda hurts his heart a bit more than he expected. You have so, so, so many options, even without the cam thing, he's more insignificant than he even realized. ...Well, for now, at least. He'll be significant to you soon enough. And then you seem to have a sort of "boyfriend of the month" deal going on, aside from that. Plenty of male-name contacts whose last exchange is a "don't talk to me again!" message from you, plenty of messages corresponding to the same time as those to your girl friends about how you can't find a good guy and every relationship ends badly. How unfortunate. See, it's because you choose bad guys. You probably go for dicks and not.... well, he can't exactly pull the "nice guys like me" mentality, he doesn't delude himself into thinking he is one. He's lucid enough to realize that most nice guys would not be sneaking into your house and standing over your sleeping body to stalk your phone as they make plans to kidnap you. He knows he would probably fall under the classification of a creepy guy. He's just too far gone to care. Still, he would be so much better to you, he tells himself, not a cheater or a player like you complain about. To say he resents those kinds of guys -- ones that can do the unthinkable and actually talk to girls, let alone successfully, only to be assholes, and yet girls like you still go for them -- is an understatement. You're basically just a slut, you probably ignore all the guys that would be nice to you, just like all those internet forums he reads talk about. Typical.

Well, those forums also make fun of guys like him who pay for girls like you, but he can't blame them. It *is* kinda pathetic. There is one dude you talk to, though, now. Current boyfriend of the month, from the looks of it. You have a little heart emoji next to the name. He knows it's kinda pathetic that something so simple and insignificant sets him off, but it does, makes him pout and grind his teeth and curl his other hand into a fist. It's so unfair. Some dude you barely know gets to fuck you, and you haven't even known him nearly as long as you've known him! He doubts this dude -- hell, any of your boyfriends -- has put in the same amount of money that he has into you. They fuck you practically for free. And that, unfortunately for you, only solidifies his decision. If you're fucking some dude for a month because they buy you dinner every now and then, if we're going by that scale, then you owe him quite a good deal of pussy. Any hesitancy or guilt he had about the whole thing is gone. And he's a little mad. Keeps grumbling to himself that you're just a loose whore, fucking so many people and putting yourself out there on the internet. He wonders if they even know about what you do. Probably not, you probably don't tell them. Yeah, that sounds like what you'd do. Really, you're kinda lucky that someone like him is so willing to commit to you, since you are a slut. You don't deserve it, but he loves you anyway. And you'll probably have the nerve to be ungrateful for it too. Sigh. On the bright side, by some miracle, it would appear that you have not told any real-life people about him, you haven't sent out any hey if I disappear you should probably look into this creep type of messages. But he can't afford to have you doing so in between now and when you move in with him, so, he decides he has to act within the next 24 hours. While he's here, though, he decides to do a quick sweep of your place. Makes note of what snacks and drinks you like, what brand of toothpaste and shampoo and the like you use, so he can buy some for you. Maybe you'll adjust better if you have some of your favorite things. And then, after days of silence, he sends you a message, says it's fine, his internet went out for a few days. He means it to reassure you, but somehow it makes you feel more uneasy. He has everything planned out, or so he thinks. But you deviate from your usual schedule. When you leave work or class, you don't go home, you go somewhere else, first. How strange. Maybe picking up groceries? He follows from a distance. No, looks like you're going out to eat...? Maybe you're meeting friends or family or -- no that's a guy. Fuck. You must have planned this just earlier today, since there were no messages on your phone. It makes a bitter feeling rise in his gut. He hates that he can't get close enough to listen to your conversation. Well, he hates the whole thing, sits there and seethes the whole time. Watches you through the windows in the parking lot, thankfully you chose to sit outside. Feels his eye twitch and his hand clench every time you smile and laugh. It takes way too long. The fact that you split the bill feels like a punch to the stomach too. Shouldn't you be used to taking guys' money? Oh, and what's this...? This guy isn't the picture on boyfriend-of-the-month's contact. Well, well, well. You really are a whore. See, it's a very good thing he's taking you off the market. You're probably a reckless heartbreaker too. He's doing all the other men of the world a favor by taking on such a burden as you. And it makes him feel far more justified in keeping you locked away, since he has every reason to believe, now, that you'd run off and fuck someone else if given the chance. Halfway through, the guy briefly gets up and runs to the bathroom or something. While he's gone, he sees your face fall a bit. And then he sees you look around. You turn your head from one side to the other. Your eyes scan the area. You shuffle uncomfortably and you bite your lip and your eyebrows furrow. You're scared. You feel like -- no, you know you're being watched and it scares you. That makes him a little happy, for some reason. He wouldn't be sure what to do if you went home with the guy, but thankfully you don't. No big deal, this was just a bump in the road, he still beats you back to your building and he still goes through with the original plan. Even better, now that it's even darker outside. If anything, now he's got extra aggression and testosterone in his blood, running over the events in his head and going through some... very forceful and violent fantasies. The message he sent had you uneasy, and it's also how you immediately know what's going on when it does finally happen. You keep telling yourself you're being unnecessarily paranoid, that it's nothing, maybe that guy actually got his life together or got a girlfriend or something. Things like... What you fear, don't happen in real life, that's stuff that only happens in movies and stuff. You keep calling it that or it in your head. That won't happen to you. It's not going to happen. The series of events that play out in your head, scenarios you try to push out of your mind. Sure, in the movies it always takes place in the stairwell, but that's fiction, so you go up the apartment stairwell as always. You're not gonna let a bunch of B-grade old films scare you. And it's always some dude standing and waiting, but that nice young boy that you've never seen before is just leaning against the wall, scrolling on his phone, he only glances up for a second as you pass by, he's not a threat, you're being paranoid. You flash a smile and a little wave as you walk by, he doesn't return either, just looks back down at his phone. See? This guy doesn't even care, you're being paranoid for nothing, you tell yourself. But as you make the turn to go up the next set of stairs you hear the click of a phone being put on the lockscreen, a few metallic footsteps ringing out in the open hall and echoing, coming up right behind you, but for that split second you expect a tap on the shoulder, maybe he has a question, it's not like movies, it's not like movies, you're not gonna get a cloth shoved over your face and--- Well, it's not exactly like the movies. You were prepared, but it all happens in one motion - one hand grabs the hand with the spray and twists it, making you drop it, the other wraps some material over your mouth. You were prepared enough that you don't gasp in surprise, you hold your breath and thrash, but it doesn't make any difference, you wiggle and writhe for a few moments but can't even begin to break free, eventually succumb to the lack of oxygen and take a deep breath. It takes a few seconds to settle in, it's not so immediate. You instinctively panic and thrash again, but he has a complete iron grip. The dizziness takes a second to set in. He huffs a bit in frustration and says stop moving, it's fine. It's definitely not, but it occurs to you that that's not something a kidnapper looking for any potential vulnerable girl says. It's a poor attempt at comfort. It's someone specifically looking for you. And if that wasn't enough, he says your name. Your very real name. Maybe it was a mistake to tell him after all. But the worst part of it all is that there's not a single doubt in your mind, even in your panic you have the realization, it's definitely him and this is literally exactly what you were afraid of. And it's the last thing that goes through your head. And once he's got you out cold he just takes a sigh of relief. He may have been very neutral faced to you, but in reality he was incredibly nervous. He hasn't exactly made or used chloroform before, our boy is operating on YouTube tutorials here. He's got adrenaline pumping through his veins and carries you with his arms trembling. He's on autopilot carrying you out, but his mind is also consumed by holy fuck I'm touching her she smells so nice she's so warm her face is so close I'm actually touching her-- you get the idea. He feels bad about taping your hands and feet together and putting you in the trunk of his car, kinda. It feels too much like what a really bad person would do to a girl they didn't care about, like he's a trafficker or a murderer or a criminal or something, but that's not true at all. Sure, he's still mad at you for being a whore and all that, but it feels improper, he just has no choice. It's late at night, but he can't risk getting pulled or being at a stoplight and someone seeing an unconscious girl in his backseat, so, trunk it is. But once he's home, to his tiny little downtown apartment (he'll probably be able to move into a better place soon, since he's not paying you tons of money anymore), he takes a quick check to make sure the coast is clear, and drags you out, up the stairs, all the way into his apartment, sets you down on the bed, where you'll be staying. He even washed the sheets and cleaned the place up a bit for your arrival. You probably would not like to see what this place looked like before the five trash bags worth of cleaning was done. He'll probably be more motivated in the future, though, since now he won't be so depressed all the time. And then the adrenaline of the fear of being seen is over, and that's when it sets in that this is real. It's very, very hard to hold back. You're real, in the flesh, he can reach out and touch you with his hands! It feels like a dream. And he realizes he can take this opportunity to do things he would be far, far too embarrassed to do when you're awake. He takes a few minutes to do just that, cautiously reaches out to poke your face, and then run a hand down your neck, your skin is so soft! Your hair smells so nice, he lays down beside you and runs his fingers over it. Puts hands on your body and just lays there in awe of the fact that you're real. He's pretty certain he's never actually touched a human female before now. Everything about you feels soft. Weirdly feminine, which is something very foreign and confusing to him. And he kinda uh... Loses it. Goes buckwild with just taking in every aspect of you. Again, since you're unconscious he can be gross and entirely shameless about it. Peels your clothes off and runs his hands and mouth over every inch of flesh, takes the tape off your lips and presses his tongue into your limp mouth until he's forced to let go to breathe, fingers you and tonguefucks you and sucks on your nipples and your neck. Lays pressed against you and just breathes in your scent. It takes every ounce of self control he has not to fuck you already. But he does jerk off a few times. That way he'll last longer, so it's a win-win. And then... you twitch. Tape goes back over your mouth. And then, you twitch again. And this time, you make a little "mm!" under the tape, you start trembling and he sees you try to pull your hands apart. You whimper. It sounds scared and distressed. He feels kinda bad, but it also makes him hard, and that outweighs any guilt by far. Besides, it's what you deserve after what you did earlier. You tortured him mentally, it's only fair. On the good side of things, you suppose, you don't have to worry about the usual fears one would have over such a situation - you're fairly certain he's not going to kill you, nor sell you. In fact, the bed you wake up on is pretty soft. You're naked and the tape is uncomfortable, but... At least he was considerate enough to give you a blanket. He does care about you, after all. First thing he says is asking if you're awake. Can you hear me? You hesitate a moment, and then you nod. He's a bit new to this whole abduction thing. He wants to make sure he didn't pull a muscle or something with the tape. So... Do you hurt anywhere? Does your head hurt? Oh, right, the tape. He's not stupid either. You have to promise you're not going to scream. In fact, he's angry enough about earlier that he gets a bit meaner than he originally told himself he'd be. If you scream, I'll make you regret it. Understand? You nod, so he takes it off, holding it close in preparation in case you were lying, but you don't actually answer him, you're silent again for a minute, then just ask a question of your own. You're that guy, right? He's silent for a few seconds, there's no need for any clarification. Finally just says yeah. You just breathe again. Silently. Finally you summon the courage to ask him what he wants with you. And why are you doing this to me? And his answer is fairly simple. What do you think? You don't say anything for a minute, and neither does he. He's not good with words, and you don't really have ones for this situation. It occurs to you that offering to pay him to let you go is probably not the solution. After all, this is the guy that's dumped unimaginable amounts of money onto you, you couldn't even come close to paying him back. You figure maybe, after he gets what he wants... well, you get the courage to ask. Is there anything... that I can do o-or... anything that will make you... are you gonna let me go, after you....? And the answer is, again, simple, but the one you did not want to hear. No. He's a blunt boy, so he doesn't beat around the bush, but he doesn't torment you by keeping anything from you. In fact, he's already rehearsed this speech a few hundred times in his head. He just wanted to make sure he's very clear so there's no misunderstanding, and while he likes some discomfort in a vengeful sort of way, he doesn't want you to be too freaked out to where you have a panic attack. He says he's just going to... keep you here. He has the things you'll need. He got your purse with your keys, so he'll even run to your apartment after this to go get some of your stuff. You don't need to tell him which number, he adds, he already knows which apartment you're in. He needs you here, he says. And he makes sure to add that it's your fault. If you were never out there selling yourself in the first place, this never would have happened. If you're good, he can make things a bit better for you. But you need to go ahead and accept that you're going to be staying and that no amount of begging or offers is going to convince him to let you go. He can be nice to you, he promises. A better boyfriend than the others. You just have to be a good girlfriend -- you know, obedient and sweet and do what he says. Just like you always were when you talked to him. Just keep being sweet like that and doing the things he tells you to do. You would argue that the terms boyfriend and girlfriend are not appropriate descriptors of the sort of relationship he's creating, but you keep that thought to yourself. Instead, you ask, How long are you going to keep me here? Which is a dumb question, since he's pretty sure he already made that clear. Forever. -----

There's a double homicide in the area. Takes place on the same night, and the same diameter of knife is used, so police believe maybe the two incidents are connected. Especially because they do have something in common, one girl. She was romantically involved with both of them. The girl in question's apartment has been vacated, very suddenly, and the girl has disappeared without a trace, taking things with her from the looks of it, so police believe she may be responsible, but other than that, they have no leads. A few weeks later, a video circulates all over the internet. Some famous camgirl finally started making porn, apparently. Just one video, but the description (which was totally written by her, it has to be since it's written in first person right?) says something about how she decided to quit camming, so this video marks the end of her career. She got into a relationship, so she says in the description, so she has to quit. It's roleplay porn, apparently, she's doing a good job at the acting. All tied up and gagged and getting fucked by some big-dicked guy holding the camera. He's silent, but she's making a ton of noise, cums several times. Really good acting, the fear and desperation in her eyes looks so real. Talk about going out with a bang. It gets a lot of likes. Tons of comments about how sad people are she's quitting. And of course, a lot of comments say, what a lucky guy.

#.camgirl

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taestefully-in-luv · 3 years

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Always You | JJK (Three)

Summary: you and Jungkook have been best friends since freshmen year of college, there’s a lot of unsaid feelings and tension but neither make a move. what happens when his friend Taehyung (also your crush) needs a fake girlfriend?

Pairing: Jungkook x Female reader, slight Taehyung x Reader

Genre: friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, slight slow burn, roommate au, college au, SMUT (starting ch2), fluff, angst (in later chapters) slight crack, lots of drama

Word Count: 10.4k

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol consumption, sexual tension (?),oc and jungkook being adorable bffs, shady tae, oral (female receiving), vaginal fingering, mentions of sex, vaginal intercourse, hickeys, orgasms,

Notes: I actually really enjoyed writing this part! Where’s my bff for bff bubble bath? Lmaaoo. Anyway, thanks again for taking the time to read. Don’t forget to send me an ask if you want to be added to the taglist or if you just want to chat about the story!

Taglist: @mooniyooni @thisartemisnevermisses @giadalin @kookiebunny097 @cosmosjk @moonchild1 @just-jeon @anpanman-sonyeondan @starlight-night0 @yessii-i @apollukee @mikasaredescarf1 @kaye-rosales @bunnyjeonjk @dyriddle @jkslachimolala

Previous----Next

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“You want me to what now?” your voice is unnecessarily high pitched.

“Meet my parents.” Taehyung gives you that awkward Chrissy Teigen meme smile. “Listen—I know it sounds crazy and horrifying but they’re really nice…”

“But why?”

“It’s my fault…I didn’t consider having my sister on social media…and I keep posting you and she told my parents and they’re real excited about me having a girlfriend…and I don’t want to crush them.”

You and Taehyung are seated on your living room couch, enjoying a lazy Thursday afternoon after classes. He brings his cup of water to his lips and takes some generous gulps.

“Listen, y/n I will literally pay another month’s worth of coffee…please just think about it.”

More free coffee? Fuck, that’s kind of a steal considering how expensive that shit is and you no doubt have an addiction.

“…fine…” you say hesitantly, “when?”

“Really?” Taehyung lights up like a spot light, “Well, I was thinking this weekend?”

“T-This weekend? That soon? Which day?”

Taehyung showcases a sheepish grin as he rubs the back of his neck, a habit of his no doubt.

“Like, the whole weekend.”

Your eyebrows crawl to the top of your head as you gape at him, “What do you mean?”

“Like, we would get there in time for dinner on Friday, then stay all day Saturday and leave Sunday morning before they leave for church. Unless you wanna go to church with th—”

“No, not really.” You run your fingers through your long strands, “Holy shit, okay we are doing this.” You nod to yourself, “What’s our story? You know they’re going to ask.”

“Huh? Uh…just the truth. I met you through Jungkook and we hit it off and we started dating.”

You sigh to yourself, wishing that were actually true.

“Just be yourself, y/n.” Taehyung smiles at you. You beam back at him, and his boxy smile only grows wider. “They’ll like you, it’s not that hard to…” his hand reaches for yours, your palms are a bit sweaty since you are feeling like a nervous wreck at the thought of meeting his parents.

Suddenly, the front door swings open and in comes your best friend (who is still mad at you). He walks in slowly eyeing the two of you on the sofa. He notices Taehyungs hand wrapped around yours and Taehyung quickly pulls away. Jungkook takes a look at your face, you’re lost in thought, nibbling on your bottom lip.

Jungkook is yes, still mad at you but also, since he jacked it to your face he is being a little nicer. But as much as he has tried not to have those type of thoughts of you before, it’s not like he hasn’t. So, he’s gotten good at pretending all is well.

“What’s with her?” Jungkook pries, walking closer to the sofa.

“Noth—”

“I’m meeting Tae’s parents.” You cut in to say.

Jungkook’s brows crease as he looks between you and Taehyung. He shakes his head in disbelief, stepping closer to the two of you.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Jungkook mutters under his breath. “You’re going this far?” now Jungkook’s face is tilted towards Taehyung. “Why are you going this far dude?” Taehyung stands to his feet, “I—”

“No man, you’ve already dragged her into your shit and now you want her to what, meet your parents?” Jungkook’s voice rises in volume and you start to feel uneasy. Taehyung shakes his head, “Jungkook—”

“End this.” Jungkook spits out, getting in Taehyungs face. “How is this fair for her…”

You stand up too, your hand pulling him back by the shoulder. “Jungkook stop.” Your voice is unusually calm.

“I’m helping Tae out because we’re friends and also, ya know, free coffee.” Jungkook turns to face you, his teeth gritting in frustration.

“You have no idea what you’re doing.” Jungkook whispers. And with that he takes one more look at Taehyung, shakes his head in disapproval and walks off towards his room.

You and Taehyung continue to stand there in silence, you feel embarrassed because of Jungkook’s actions and ashamed you didn’t do more to stop him. Taehyung on the other hand looks completely defeated.

“I’m sorry about Jungkook I don’t know why he—”

“I should go,” Taehyung cuts you off, he gives you a weak smile before grabbing his things and heading towards the door.

“Are we still on for this weekend?” you sway from side to side, feeling as awkward as you probably look.

Taehyung doesn’t answer right away, instead he rubs the back of his neck with a frown decorating his face. Finally, he meets your eyes and offers another weak smile.

“Yeah, I’ll pick you up at 4 tomorrow.” He doesn’t wait for a response as he is already walking out the door, closing it softly behind him.

You’re left alone in the living room with nothing but a cold, empty couch and your million racing thoughts. Why is Jungkook so against you and Tae? Maybe Jungkook is afraid that you’ll become so close with Tae that he thinks you’ll replace him…but you know in your heart of hearts Jungkook is irreplaceable. Why can’t Jungkook understand that? You haven’t been spending as much time with him lately and maybe that’s the problem. What can’t a drunken slumber party not solve?

You knock on his door, waiting for a ‘come in’ but it never comes. So you knock again. And again. Until finally Jungkook swings open the door with a frustrated sigh and pained look on his face.

“Look, before you scold me—”

“Actually, I had an idea.” You say quickly.

“Oh?” Jungkook’s features relax.

“It’s been a while since we’ve had one of our BFF slumber parties.” You slant your head to the side, a sly smile forming on your lips.

Jungkook stares at you for a few seconds before his eyes fill with something interesting.

“Yeah,” he clears his throat, “it’s been a while.”

“What do you say? Tonight? Me and you? Wine? Anime? Video games? BFF bubble bath?”

“Wow, you want the works.” Jungkook grins. “But you realize I’m still…” he takes a deep breath when he notices your worried, pleading eyes. “Step into my office and we can discuss the details.” He says, opening his door wider, inviting you inside.

His room looks clean besides the few articles of clothing scattered on the ground. He has a scented candle going and LoFi music playing lowly on his speakers. Lofi and candle? He only has that combo when he’s stressed and trying to calm down.

You take a seat on the edge of his made bed, and Jungkook follows you, also taking a seat on his bed next to you.

“14% and up only for the wine.” He states.

“Agreed. Action or horror for the anime.” You pitch in.

“Agreed. Mario Kart for the video game.”

“Agreed. Life altering secrets only for BFF Bubble Bath.”

Jungkook chews on his lips as he thinks of your request. “Okay.”

You clap your hands excitedly for tonight, your chest bubbling with happiness. This is what you and Jungkook need.

~~~~~~

Jungkook is even more excited for BFF slumber party night than you are. He’s missed you. There’s been a real disconnect with the two of you lately and thinks tonight is exactly what the two of you need. He is just coming home from buying 4 bottles of 16% wine and lots of snacks. He got the salty, the sweet and the sour. Feeling proud of his choices, he sets the groceries down and calls for you.

You walk out from the bathroom with a facemask glued to your face with another packet in your hand,

“For you, sir.”

Jungkook chuckles as he grabs the pack from your hands, “Okay, I’ll go put this on, while you pour us some wine.” He nods towards the bottles.

You happily oblige. You grab the cork screw from its designated place in the kitchen drawer and begin to open the first bottle of wine. It opens smoothly, without a hitch.

“Wow…engineering is amazing.” You whisper to yourself in awe.

“What’s amazing?” Jungkook walks into the kitchen, you take a long look at his appearance. The white facemask making him look like a ghost.

“Your face.” You chuckle, a finger going up to touch the material on his skin.

You twirl to face the kitchen cabinets and pull out two wine glasses for you and your BFF and poor a gracious amount of wine in each. You hand him the glass and you clank the glasses together in cheers.

“To us.” You chirp happily, chugging back a gulp of your drink.

Jungkook just watches as you wince at the disgusting flavor and cackles to himself before taking a sip of his own drink.

The two of you grab the bottle of wine and your glasses and make your way into the living room.

“Alright we go by the normal house rules, whichever place you get is how many seconds you chug your drink.” You explain.

“Are you talking to an imaginary audience y/n? I already know the rules.” Jungkook teases.

“I was just trying to get the competitive mood going.” You poke your tongue out, Jungkook is quick to try to grab it between his fingers.

“Ugh, you are so gross.” You groan.

“You love it.” Jungkook smiles so wide his eyes begin to disappear. “Well, let’s play!”

One thing you absolutely can’t stand but also completely adore about Jungkook is that he is a sore loser. And also an ungracious fucking winner.

“You SUCK!” Jungkook cackles obnoxiously in your face, “Like I hope you enjoy chugging for five—no, SIX seconds you mother fuckin loser.” He continues to laugh loudly much to your annoyance but a part of you feels warm that he is having so much fun. You haven’t seen him laugh like this in weeks.

“Okay I get it.” You roll your eyes so far back into your head all you see is whites.

This was the 3rd time in a row you’re getting 6th place, your vision is started to blur at the amount of alcohol you’ve chugged. But only a little, nothing you can’t handle.

“Okay y/n let’s stop now, we can watch some anime while we order some pizza?” he grins your way. “I vote Tokyo ghoul. And the rule is we drink every time Kaneki is fucking cry baby.”

“Well damn, guess we’re getting fucked up.” You declare. You and Jungkook laugh to yourselves at the thought.

The show is on, pizza has been ordered. Life is good. You sneak a glance at Jungkook as he pays attention to the show on screen. You smile when he smiles, you smile when he laughs, you smile when he pouts. Jungkook finally manages to notice you staring at him and snaps his head to you.

“What?” he asks with a toothy grin.

“Nothing…” you sing, your bright smile rivaling the light coming from the TV.

It’s been several hours, two medium pizzas have been demolished, 4 wine bottles have been drank and lots of anime has been watched. You and Jungkook sit on the sofa wrapped in blankets, neither one of you wanting to get up to turn the fan off.

“So cold.” You slur.

“Come closer.” Jungkook slurs back.

“Or we can warm up with BFF Bubble Bath?” you offer, leaning your head on his shoulder.

Jungkook zones out for a second, thinking of your request.

“Been a while since we had one of those, huh?” he finally says something.

“yeah, which is a real shame, isn’t it? I mean, we literally get into our swim suits, draw a hot bubble bath, get in sitting opposite of each other and tell each other our secrets, our hopes and dreams. Then we make a wish that the other person HAS to support and we can’t tell anyone else or else it won’t come true.” You mumble mostly to yourself.

“y/n…once again are you speaking to an imaginary audience?” he chuckles, “I know what a BFF Bubble Bath is.”

“Then hurry up and draw that bubble bath mister know it all.”

Jungkook stares at himself in the mirror, he’s got on his red swim trunks. His hair is a fucking mess, and his eyes are giving away how intoxicated he is but he’s got this dopey smile on his face that he decides is a good look on him. He looks happy. He feels happy.

You walk into the bathroom and eye your best friend. You can’t help but drop your gaze to his thighs, God, you love when he wears tight pants or shorts.

“What’s up buff guy?” you tease, grabbing a hold of his bicep.

“Shut up” Jungkook shudders from your touch. Then he takes one long look at you and he wants to faint. You’re also wearing a red swim suit, it’s one of those strapless kind. The two of you eye each other up and down, observing your matching swim suits and shoot each other some finger guns.

“hehe…well, shall we?” you say, gesturing towards the bubble filled tub.

Jungkook nods his head yes and motions for you to step in first.

The water is hotter than you are expecting, your toes wet with lava. But it’s just how you like it, you have both legs in as you begin to sink deeper into the bubbled water.

“come on in” you wave Jungkook over, he drunkenly stumbles forward until he’s wincing at the hot water that meets his skin.

“You’re really the queen of Hell if this temperature is enjoyable to you.” He deadpans.

“Why thank you, does that make you my loyal servant?”

“ha-ha.”

You and Jungkook stare at each other for a while, enjoying the drunken haze.

“So anything new going on with you?” you begin to pry.

You prying is never a good thing but you can never help yourself. His past is such a mystery to you and it drives you nuts. You’re supposed to be best friends yet he can’t even tell you about his parents without it getting real awkward. He knows all about your family history, but all you know about his is that his dad cheated the whole marriage and his mom finally left him for it—leaving Jungkook behind as well. You understand why it must be hard to talk about but...doesn’t he want to confide in you? You of all people?

“Not really.” Jungkook fingers play with the bubbles at his chest.

“Any girls? Like not just hookups but—”

“Don’t worry about that.”

Such a fucking Jungkook thing to say, it’s always ‘don’t worry about that y/n’ and never ‘let me actually tell you some real information y/n’.

“Jungkook,” you wine into the bubbles.

“Hm?”

“Don’t you have a girl you like???” and suddenly drunk y/n doesn’t want to know this answer. Would sober you?

Jungkook looks down at his wrinkling hands and doesn’t know what to say. Does he?

“No.” is the answer he settles for. And suddenly relief is washed over you.

You want to ask him the thing you are most curious about—his family. But he has said it a million times to you every time he’s asked—its ‘a touchy subject’.

“Ask about it.” He suddenly says, “I know you want to.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about, yes indeed I have no clue.” You slur.

“Y/N.” he warns.

“Fine…when’s the last time you talked to your dad? I know he made mistakes…but I also know he has tried reaching out to you over and over. He calls almost every day Jungkook! Maybe he’s changed. I know your mom left because of everything and you blame your d—”

“Mom…” he begins to cut you off. You notice his eyes gloss over and you feel your heart drop. Jungkook rarely cries and rarely cries in front of anyone. Then he’s clearing his throat, “You’re right. Moms not in the picture anymore and I do blame dad.”

“I hate that your mom left you Jungkook…” you say softly. “She’s the worst for that,”

“You have no idea.” Jungkook breathes out. “Let’s change the subject, please.”

“But—”

“Please, y/n.” his eyes are pleading and you feel your heart drop again. You wonder if he will ever be ready to talk about it.

“Actually…” he awkwardly plays with the bubbles in front of his chest, “There’s something I want to say.”

“What is it?” you can’t help but feel anxious all the sudden.

Jungkook avoids your eyes as he plays with the bubbles, he takes a few deep breaths before lifting his head.

“I’m sorry.”

You tilt your head, “Sorry for what?”

“I’ve…” Jungkook scrunches his face up, contemplating what to say. “I’ve been really unfair to you. I should of never treated you this way…I don’t know what came over me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I was hurt, yes, that you chose Taehyung over me but since the beginning I’ve been such an asshole. Fuck, y/n…” his voice cracks, “I’m so sorry. I just wish I could…” he pauses, shaking his head. “No, it’s nothing. I just hope you’ll be careful with Taehyung.” He shakes his head again, “Oh my god, I am so selfish.” He laughs pathetically. “I’m sorry…”

You stay quiet for several moments, you want to agree with him. Yeah it was fucked up what you did, but he wasn’t any better this whole time.

“Why were you such an asshole?” you finally ask.

“Don’t worry about it y/n.” GOD DAMN. You are tired of that response!

You scoff, “And why are you so wary of Taehyung? I don’t get it!”

“Can you just trust me? Please?”

“I’ll just trust my own judgment for now…”

“y/n…” then he is looking into your eyes more seriously, “I’m sorry.”

You bite your lip as you think about his apology. Is he sorry? By the looks of it, yes. But he was so childish…you decide to grab his hand and play with his fingers. He stares down at your hands and smiles softly.

“Will you behave?” you tease lightly. Your fingers weaving through his. He looks up at you with his big doe eyes and nods his head slowly.

“Yes.”

“Then I will forgive you for now but you’re on thin fucking ice, buddy.”

Jungkook can’t help but laugh a little. “Yes mam.”

“Fine!” you say clasping your hands together, “Secret time!”

“Oh great,” Jungkook chuckles. “You first”

“Okay, hmmmmm.” You hold your chin up in deep thought. “Okay I got one I have never told you.” You grin mischievously.

“Okay, go for it.”

“When I was really drunk I most definitely made out with Trina.”

“Yeah, I was there. I’m the one who told you that you should kiss her. I said kiss though, like a peck. But your ass added tongue and all.”

“Wait what? Why would you tell me to do that!”

“I thought it would be hot.” He shrugs.

“Wack.” You slap his hand, “Your turn.”

“Ummm…” Jungkook leans back in the tub, “I’m the one who told Jimin to dare me to kiss you our freshmen year.” Jungkook says just above a whisper. He’s been holding in that secret for 3 years.

“Wait, what?” you ask, totally off guard.

“Yeah.” Is all he responds with.

“You wanted to kiss me back then?”

“Wasn’t it obvious considering how things escalated…”

Your eyes expand in size, the memory of that night flashing in your mind.

“We agreed to never talk about it, ya know, to save our friendship and what not.” You point out.

The bubbles cover your bathing suit perfectly so little was left to the imagination. Jungkook keeps eyeing the swell of your breasts and the pop of your collarbones, you look naked if he has to be honest. And if he has to be honest it was starting to turn him on. Should that be a secret he shares?

“Jungkook?” you say for the 4th time trying to get him out of whatever drunken daze he was in.

“Huh?” he comes back down to earth. “What did you say?”

“I said, what are your dreams?”

“You know them already,” he shrugs.

“Video editor still?”

“Yeah. Maybe Director.” He smiles timidly, “What about yours?”

“I… I don’t know.”

“Well, you’re in school for marketing. So something with that?”

“I just chose that because I know I can find a job in the field.” You sigh.

Jungkook studies your features, you look troubled. He leans forward to grab your hands again and says , “Whatever you wanna do, you’ll be great at it,”

You crease your brows together and a pout forms on your lips, “You think so?”

“I know so.”

The two of you smile at one another until you break the silence, “Its getting too hot we should get out soon.”

“Agreed.” Jungkook nods his head.

“Alright let’s make our wishes that we MUST support.” You stick your pinky out for Jungkook to take, “I’ll go first.” Then you become shy with your next words, “I wish Taehyung would feel the same way about me I do about him.”

Jungkook’s smile falters but he takes your pinky anyway.

“My turn…I just…I wish you will be happy.”

You widen your eyes, “Wow,” you say, “What a selfless wish. You shouldn’t waste it on me!”

“It’s my greatest wish right now though…” he slurs his words.

You can’t help but smile as you take his pinky in promise.

Now in some fresh pajamas, you and Jungkook both stand in front of his bedroom door. The two of you are pretty damn drunk but holding it together quite nicely. He sways from side to side with that bunny smile and you can’t help but lean in for a hug. He takes a moment but he hugs you back. You pull away much too quickly for his liking.

“Hey y/n…”

“Yeah?”

Jungkook clears his throat a few times, his eyes darting all around the place, “Could you ever…hate me?”

“Never.” You answer quickly.

Jungkook is hit with a wave of guilt, a wave so big it comes crashing and knocking him down.

“Would if…no, never mind.”

“Never.” You say again.

Jungkook’s smiles fades a bit before a new smile takes over.

“I understand. Goodnight y/n.” and he leans down and places a kiss on your cheek. “sleep well.”

Fire. You feel the burn of fire. His kiss lingered for a second too long because you are burning. His kiss was scorching hot and you can’t help but melt from the heat. You are left speechless. From a kiss on the cheek.How did a kiss on the mother fucking cheek have you reacting this way?

“G-Goodnight Jung—” but the door is already softly closing in your face before you can finish your sentence.

~~~~~

The sun is coming through the blinds in the most offending way, you want to open your eyes and start the day but you just cannot. You have a raging headache from all the wine you quickly drank and you come to accept your fate—you’re hungover. As hell. You crack one eye open to see the time on the clock: 1:52pm

Immediately you sit up in bed, realizing you have slept way too long. How late did you and Jungkook stay up last night? Oh, last night. You smile softly at the memories of the night before. It was a perfect BFF slumber party. You haven’t seen Jungkook that happy in a while and you wonder if the same goes for you.

But then reality sets in—Taehyung is going to be here in 2 hours and you haven’t even thought about what you’re packing for your trip. You still need to eat, shower and get ready. You begin to mentally pack for your trip when you hear a single knock on your door before its opening up and a wild Jungkook appears.

“Morning sleepyhead.” He says with his signature bunny grin on his face.

“Jungkook! Help me pack!” you jump out of bed and walk to your closet, dragging out an oversized overnight bag.

“Like, parent appropriate clothes—I am freaking out by the way. I am meeting Tae’s parents and would if they don’t like me?”

“Relax, relax.” Jungkook walks inside your closet, bringing out a few clothing options. “They’re going to love you.”

“Do you…” you chew on your bottom lip, “Do you think your parents would have loved me?” you ask cautiously.

Jungkook freezes. He is silent for several long moments, making you believe you should not have asked that. But then he turns to face you with a strange smile, “Mom and dad would have adored you.” Then he pats your shoulder. “I put in some good options by the way.” He says pointing to the bag.

“Oh thanks.” You say totally caught off guard. “Okay I’m going to shower can you please, pretty please make me something to eat? I will love you forever.”

“You already love me forever.” Jungkook states matter of fact. “But sure, but don’t blame me if you don’t like what I make.”

“Oh god, you’re making me instant ramen aren’t you?”

“Love you.” He says, walking out of your room.

~~~~~~

“I made a playlist for our drive.” Taehyung hands you his phone, “It’s called ‘Meet the Parents’” he laughs to himself, pointing at the playlist on the screen for you to click.

“The first song is called ‘Please love me’ by Colde” you chuckle, “You think you are funny, don’t you?”

“Maybe a little” he smirks. “But really, relax. My parents are chill, they’re gonna like you, I promise.

“Well, we have a 2 hour drive Tae Tae.” Taehyung blushes hard at the nickname and for once it does not go unnoticed by you.

“I have a question for you y/n…”

You quirk a brow at his curiosity, “What is it?”

“How do you have the opportunity to fake date me? Like, don’t you have someone you like or guys chasing after you?”

“Oh I don’t have much luck with that.” You answer honestly. “With dating and such.”

“And why’s that?” he pries deeper.

“To be honest most guys I have dated end up dumping me if I don’t…”

“Don’t what?”

You grip your purse in your lap, your hold so tight your fingers become sore.

“Dump Jungkook.” You breathe out, “They were always so jealous of him…and… gave me a choice. Them or him,” you pick at the material of your purse, “I always chose Jungkook.” You huff, “Besides I didn’t like those guys that much anyway.”

Taehyung is quietly listening to you, nodding his head at your words. Once at a stop light he turns to face you,

“Yet when I asked you to dump Jungkook, you did.” He points out in a hushed tone.

“I…” you pause, thinking carefully on what to say. “I guess I did.”

Taehyung smiles. But it isn’t his boxy grin, it’s an odd smile. You become anxious, “But it’s more complicated than that.”

“Right.” Taehyung says before facing the road again, accelerating through the green light.

“How did you and Jungkook becomes so close anyway?”

You can’t help but simper.

“Well, we met at a frat party but ended up at a 24 diner until like 9 the next morning. We just—we just really hit it off. I felt like I could say or be anything in front of Jungkook and he would always just give me a silly look and accept whatever it is, whatever I am. You know when you just vibe with someone so well?” you ask, not really expecting an answer.

“Well that was us. We could say anything and still always want to continue the conversation. We ended up taking some of the same classes and studied together then that turned into regular hang outs and then it was like bam—I was with him almost every day.” You smile fondly at the memories.

Taehyung glances at you, he wears a sad smile as he asks, “Have either of you ever caught feelings for the other?”

You choke on the air around you, “What?” then that night from freshmen year flashes in your mind, “No…no.” you say trying to convince him, or is it to convince yourself?

The next few minutes are pretty quiet during the drive, but nothing awkward. You unzip your purse to pull out your phone to see you have unread messages from Jimin.

Jimin 5:30pm

Hey babe, heard you were going to meet Tae’s parents

Jimin 5:31pm

How is Jungkook feeling?

y/n 5:44pm

what do u mean

Jimin 5:45pm

y/n…nothing girl

y/n 5:45pm

????

Jimin 5:46pm

It’s really nothing. Anyway

Jimin 5:46pm

You and tae huh

Jimin 5:46pm

I am happy for you and tae…if that’s what you really want

You stare down at the phone in your hands, contemplating whether to tell Jimin the truth. He is one of your best friends after all.

y/n 5:55pm

tbh with u jimin…im not really dating tae..were just pretending to get this girl off his back

Jimin 5:56pm

What???? Really?? Wait, what girl?

y/n 5:57pm

Some chick named Anna

Jimin 5:57pm

Wait…Anna…?

Incoming call: Jimin

“Are you going to answer that?” Taehyung asks from beside you.

You want to but you two are pulling into his parents drive way and you don’t want your first impression to be that you were on your phone, so you send Jimin a quick text that you can’t talk.

You and Taehyung step out of the car and his parents are already standing outside on the porch. His father has his wife in his arms, they look happy to see Taehyung—they look happy in general.

“Oh! My baby bear!” his mother strides forward until Taehyung is wrapped in her loving arms. She sways their bodies back and forth as she smiles and laughs, the joy of having her son with her evident.

Taehyungs dad is about the same, he pulls him in for a tight hug and scolds him for not visiting more. Then it is your turn. You stand there awkwardly but not for long because Taehyungs mother is embracing you all the same.

“I have seen lots of pictures of you! But you are even prettier in person!” she gushes, her hands holding yours. You can’t help the blush that creeps up on your face as she speaks to you.

“Why don’t you two come inside?” his father gestures towards the house, “We got dinner nice and hot.”

Taehyung blushes as he watches his parents interact with you, he knew they would warm up to you fast but still it makes his heart race.

Dinner goes by quickly, his parents talking a storm. They begin sharing childhood stories about Taehyung and show you baby pictures as he sits there protesting. His pouting face is so cute you could die.

“And here he is with just a towel!” his mom squeals. “But I am sure you have seen that view already.”

“mom…” Taehyung draws out the word in a whine. You just giggle as she continues to show you pictures of baby Tae Tae.

Finally, Taehyungs sister joins the party and she teases him just as much as their parents. You feel right at home with the Kim’s. They are warm and inviting and make you feel so…at peace.

“Oh!” Mrs. Kim pauses, “look at the time!” she points down at her watch that rests on her left wrist.

“It’s gotten so late, my my. Well, us old folks are heading to bed. You two should get some rest as well.” She motions towards you and Taehyung. “Taehyung can show you the room you two will be staying in.”

“Room? As in singular?” you sputter out.

“Well, we only have one room open. One bed.” She juts her lip out innocently. “I figure you two are a couple so…”

“Yeah, we will be fine.” Taehyung cuts in. “Get some rest mom…dad.” He nods towards his father.

One room? One bed? With The Kim Taehyung. Granted that yes, you have become like, friends with Tae so you are more comfortable. But to share a room? Share a bed?

You follow Tae up the stairs and down the hall to a bedroom. It has a single queen size bed in the middle of the room against the wall. You feel flustered like it’s the first time you spoke to him.

“I can sleep on the floor if you want.” Taehyung offers with a shy smile and all your worries vanish. That’s right, Taehyung is a gentlemen and you have nothing to worry about.

“No, it’s fine” you assure him, “We are adults Tae, we can share a bed.”

Your hangover still lingers and the drive is starting to take its toll, your eyes feeling heavy as sleep invites you to visit.

“Let’s sleep.” You yawn out.

Taehyung nods his head with a smile and walks towards the bathroom, “I’ll get ready for bed in here,” he motions towards the bathroom, “and you can change in here. Just let me know when you’re done.”

“Alrighty”

You fall asleep quickly, letting your dreams take over for the night.

Winter break just started and you are supposed to go see your parents but when you found out your new friend Jungkook was going to be spending the holidays alone in his dorm you just could not let that slide.

“It’s not a big deal, y/n. I’m used to it.” He states in a plain fashion.

“it IS a big deal JK. My parents can handle one Christmas without me, but I am afraid you cannot.” You say with a smirk.

“Why are you doing this for me?” Jungkook is typing away on his laptop working on a last minute assignment his professor is letting him turn in late.

“Because even though I’ve only known you for like, 4 months, you’re like my closest friend here.”

“Don’t act like you have a closer friend somewhere else”

“Why do you have to call me out like that?”

Jungkook snickers, click clacking away on his keyboard, “Finally, I’m finished.” He says closing the laptop. Jungkook looks up at you.

“Go catch your flight y/n.” he says with a soft smile.

“Not happening.” You say more seriously.

Jungkook just stares at you for a long while and you stare right back. When the two of you look into one another’s eyes it’s never weird or awkward. You always relish in it.

“You’re something else aren’t you?” he breaks into a toothy grin. “What would we do anyway?”

“We can have a slumber party? And call it BFF slumber party.”

“Sounds fun” Jungkook stands from his rolling chair and sits on the edge of his bed with you.

“You know, you might be the best friend I have ever had.” He whispers.

Christmas passes by in a flash and NYE’s is right around the corner. Your friends are going to be back for NYE’s because of all the parties that required all of your attendances.

New Year’s eve has arrived and you sit in your dorm with Trina as the two of you get ready for the night.

“I hope Stephanie is going to be there tonight…” Trina mumbles under her breath, “If not this outfit is a complete waste.”

You giggle as you apply your red lipstick in the mirror. You get a text from Jimin that he and Jungkook are already headed to the party so you rush Trina to get ready to go.

The party is booming. There are decorations everywhere, people everywhere, and drinks everywhere. You sip on a few beers, wanting to stay at least a little sober so you remember the night, and you hope Jungkook isn’t too trashed either.

Hours pass, lots of dancing goes down and more drinks go down…your throat. It was all fun and games until Jimin called for your group of friends to head to a bedroom to play an innocent game of truth or dare.

You stick to Jungkook’s side as the two of you stumble up the stairs, laughing loudly and holding hands to keep each other stable.

You all sat in a circle in the room, talking and laughing until Jimin clanked a glass with a spoon like a fancy bitch to get everyone’s attention.

“Okay first, lets start with Trina! Truth or Dare?” Jimin smirks.

“Dare, obviously.”

“Okay,” Jimin thinks for a few moments, “I dare you to flash everyone your tits.”

“Oh? Is that all?” Trina says as she quickly lifts her shirt. She was already braless. You and Jungkook cackle at the scene unfolding.

“Okay, Hobi…truth or dare?”

“Dare.” He says with an excited grin.

“Dare you to take 3 shots in a row.”

And the night went on like this until it was Jimins turn again,

“Jungkook, truth or dare?” Jimin had an evil glint in his eye, you should of known he was up to no good.

“Dare.” Jungkook says with a cocky smile.

“I dare you to kiss y/n.”

“y/n?” Taehyung shakes you a bit more, “y/n?”

“Huh?” you begin to open your eyes and take in your view. You are in a small bedroom, there are posters on the wall and a small desk next to the bedroom door. And most importantly a Kim Taehyung in front of your face.

“What…What time is it?” you ask, sleep still evident in your voice.

“9:00” he grins down at you. “We’re going strawberry picking today, get dressed!”

You rub your eyes, trying to rid yourself of the sleep that crusted them but it is no use, you are still exhausted.

“I dare you to kiss y/n.”

Why? Why did you dream that memory? You shake your head trying to rid yourself of the lingering dream in your mind. That was a long time ago, time to move on.

You quickly shower and get dressed and meet Taehyung and his parents for breakfast.

“Wow, smells good!” you inhale the air, while smiling sweetly to Mrs. Kim.

“Do you cook y/n?” she asks, looking eager to know.

“Yeah, I do. Well, sometimes.” You laugh to yourself “My roommate is useless in the kitchen so someone has to cook.”

“That’s great!” Mrs. Kim exclaims, nodding approvingly to her husband. “Taehyungs last girlfriend couldn’t even toast a poptart.” She rolls her eyes but then smiles at you again.

Last girlfriend? You don’t recall Taehyung ever having a girlfriend in the time you have known him. Must have been a while.

“Mom…” Taehyung warns,

“Oh alright, we aren’t talking about her. What was her name again?”

“Mom.”

“Okay okay.”

You awkwardly play with your fingers at their back and forth. Who was his girlfriend? Were they dating more recently? Why has the energy shifted so much in the kitchen?

“So you two are going strawberry picking huh? That’ll be fun. Be sure you bring back the reddest, juiciest ones you can find!” Mr. Kim chimes in.

You and Taehyung arrive at the strawberry farm a couple hours later, you two are some of the only people there.

“Small town.” Taehyung explains.

“More for us.” You poke your tongue out. “You must really like strawberries Tae.”

“Actually, no. I’m tired of them.” His laughter fills your ears, you watch as he sways into your side “But it’s still fun and we can take some cute pics here.”

“Yeah, true.” You try to smile brightly but fall short. “Well I’m glad we’re getting some because Jungkook eats all the damn strawberries at home!” Taehyung watches as you giggle and he frowns.

You spend time walking side by side, taking lots of photos, and enjoying one another’s company. The wonderful breeze rushes through you, making you feel alive and well.

“No way! Trina did not do that!” Taehyung laughs so hard, shaking his whole body.

“I swear! I told her she was going to get caught but that bitch does not listen to me.” You laugh alongside him.

“And I swear to you, I was not about to get caught with her so me and Jungkook ran for it. I would rather fucking die.” You laugh again.

“You don’t say that type of stuff in front of Jungkook, do you?” Taehyungs tone becomes serious, surprising you.

“What stuff?” you tilt you head in confusion.

“You know ‘wanting to die’ bullshit. He really hates that because well, you know.”

“Oh yeah, I don’t say that around him, he’s real sensitive about that for some reason.” You laugh awkwardly, swinging your arms side to side as you two walk.

“Well for good reason. Right?”

“Huh?”

“It’s nothing…” Taehyung releases a shaky breath. “It’s not my place to tell you.”

“If it’s about my best friend—”

“Sorry. Not my place.” Taehyung says more harshly. “Let’s just change the subject.”

Your mind begins racing…why is Jungkook so sensitive about that? What isn’t he telling you?

“Don’t think too much about it y/n.” Taehyung says softly. “He will tell you eventually.”

“Oh…” you bow your head down, “Okay…”

“Well, tell me more about you Tae.”

“what do you want to know?”

“let’s start with the basics! What’s your favorite color?”

Taehyung looks up at the sky and hums to himself, “I don’t have one but today maybe it’s blue.”

“You don’t have a favorite color? Why blue today?”

“The sky. It’s so pretty. I wish I could find this exact shade of blue and recreate this sky…” he sighs to himself, “But then again maybe today it’s green.” He gestures towards your top. “Because it brings out the color in your eyes.”

You pause mid walk, tilting your head up at him. “You like green today because I…I’m wearing it?”

“Is that strange?” he stops walking as well, “Because your eyes—”

“Why not choose the color of my eyes?” you tease.

“Because I like what wearing green does to them specifically.” He rubs your shoulder, “Come on, let’s keep going.”

You nod your head and the two of you continue your walk, he takes your hand in his and you smile to yourself. This feels like a real date.

“What are you most afraid of?” you feel his hand grow sweaty in your palm. “Like, for example, Jungkook doesn’t like spiders or…”

“Being left.” He blurts out. “But yeah, not a fan of spiders either.” He chuckles.

“Being left?”

Taehyung walks towards a bench and sits down, you follow his lead taking a seat close to him. He takes a few deep breaths and lowers his head.

“Imagine a parent or a significant other or even a friend…they say they love you and stuff…but then change their mind or something happens and they end up leaving. That’s what I’m most afraid of. Being left alone.”

You bite your lip, you realize he and Jungkook have this in common. Your hand rushes to find his, you gently stroke your thumb over his golden skin. “Someone would be absolutely crazy to abandon you, Taehyung.”

Surprising you, he scoffs.

“I’m serious…you are…just amazing. You’re sweet, funny, caring and kind and you make great art and you have great taste in movies…you also know the best pizza…” you continue to stroke his skin as you ramble, “You have the most genuine heart, Taehyung.”

Taehyung lifts his head to face you, he looks pained.

“y/n…”

“You don’t have to say anything, I’m here for you, you know?” you scoot closer to him on the bench and Taehyung leans into you.

“You’re too good to me…” Taehyung whispers so quietly you barely hear him. “You really think that of me?”

“Of course, I do. You make me feel…” the words die on your tongue when you feel Taehyung cup your jaw with his hand.

“You make me feel….too.” he whispers just loud enough that you hear him loud and clear.

Then Taehyung leans back, his hand dropping from your face, “I have to tell you something.”

“No.” you cut in. Whatever it is it can wait. Because…because you know it’s not something that will make you happy and you don’t want this weekend to be ruined. You just know.

“Tell me another time?” you lean into him, your fingers intertwining with his. “Please…”

Taehyung exhales deeply, frustration written all over his face. He turns in his seat to face you.

“Soon.” He promises.

“Ha, you sound like Jungkook.”

“Do you always find a way to talk about Jungkook?” Taehyung lifts your chin with his fingers.

“W-What?”

Taehyung looks serious for a second before he cracks a smile and laughs, “I’m just teasing you.”

~~~~~

“Wait, wait. So you’re telling me you ALSO love museums?!” Taehyung squeezes your hand in excitement.

“Yeah, they’re really interesting.” You smile.

“Oh my god, all our friends think they’re so boring. Well, Namjoon likes them. Anyway, why haven’t we gone on a museum date? I want to take you so bad now!” His eyes are shining like a child, you can’t help but adore him.

“Then let’s go sometime Tae.”

Taehyung lowers the basket he’s holding to the ground and takes your basket and sets it on the ground as well.

“I really…” Taehyung pauses, reaching his hand to grab yours. “Really had a nice time with you today.

You look down at your joined hands and smile. “Me too, Tae Tae.”

Taehyung leans over and pecks your cheek. It makes you smile.

“What was that for?” you ask shyly. “There’s no people around.” You chuckle a bit bitterly.

“Just felt like it,” his soft smile making you swoon. “Should we head back? My parents will probably be in bed by the time we make it back home.”

“Sure.”

~~~~~

The house is dark and quiet when you enter through the front door. Only the sound of the ceiling fan rotating in cold, noisy circles could be heard. It was oddly calming and made the long day catch up to you.

“Let’s get ready for bed.” Tae whispers into your ear and it tickles.

The two of you head up the flight of stairs and enter the bedroom. You take turns using the bathroom to get ready for bed, once all done you make your way under the covers and slowly close your eyes.

“y/n?”

You turn over in bed to face Taehyung, your faces just inches apart.

“Yes?” you whisper.

“I can’t thank you enough for doing this.” The guilt in his tone doesn’t go unnoticed by you, as usual. “I wish there was something more I could do for you…”

“You’re already buying me coffee.” You giggle.

“I want to do more,” Taehyung gulps “I want to…” he scoots even closer to you, his hot breath fanning your face. You can smell the mint from his toothpaste and his natural scent. It fills your nostrils and you suck in a sharp breath.

“You want to what?” you say with a shaky voice.

Taehyungs breathing begins to quicken, you can feel each rushed breath and you wonder what’s gotten into him.

“What do you want to do, Tae?” you ask again.

You can see Taehyungs tongue dart out to wet his lips and you can’t help but stare. His lips look so plump and delicious, you want a bite.

“I…I don’t know…” he turns to lay on his back. “Can I tell you a secret?” he whispers.

“Sure.”

“I wanted to kiss more than your cheek today.” He turns back over to his side to face you again. “Is that wrong?”

Taehyung wanted to kiss you? Like, kiss you kiss you? You feel happy, yes. But do you feel your heart racing in excitement? You don’t know.

“Tae—”

“Even now, I still want to…kiss you…” his hand brushes against the skin of your cheek and you start to feel your heart beat just a little faster. Finally…

“But,” he pulls backs, “It’s wrong, isn’t it?”

“Why would it be wrong?”

“Because…y/n…I have to tell you some—”

You quickly lean over to seal his lips with yours. Usually your kisses are short and sweet and tender but this time you use more force as you press your lips over his mouth, the kiss sloppy and heated. He instantly kisses you back with fervor, your tongue prodding its way into his mouth and he obliges in seconds, his tongue playing with yours. You moan into his mouth and Taehyungs hands are all over you, they travel into your hair, down your back, grabbing your hips and rubbing your ass.

“Tae…” you whine out

Taehyungs fingers play with the hem of your shorts and you push your hips into his.

“Please.” You beg for more.

“But wait—”

“Please.” You repeat.

Taehyung stares at you for several long moments, thinking of what to do…he wants to devour you, if he had to be honest. But is this right? But he…

Then his eyes go dark, his gaze piercing.

“I’m going to taste you.” He says in voice so deep you even question that its him.

Next thing you know your shorts are pulled down along with your panties and Taehyungs mouth is an inch away from devouring you.

“Gonna make you feel so good.” He groans into your heat, his tongue licking a strip from your hole to your clit. And again and again. You quietly whimper into the pillow as his tongue fucks you.

“More Taehyung, more…” you moan, your hands gripping his hair.

Taehyung smirks up at you and inserts two fingers into your greedy cunt, he curls and scissors them inside you making you weep pathetically.

“That feel good sweetheart?”

Then he’s diving back in, his tongue assaulting your clit until you feel the buildup of your inevitable orgasm—you mean, it is Kim Taehyung.

He gives your clit one last good suck before you are reaching your high, pulling on his locks and moaning at a higher pitch. Fuck, that was good.

“You sound so fucking hot when you come…” Taehyung moves back up the bed as you lay there breathless. “Next time I want you coming on my—”

Taehyung stops himself from finishing that sentence. You watch as he groans into his hands, “I mean, if you want there to be a next time.”

“Of course I do, Tae.” You flip to your side and find his lips. You give him a long kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue. “How could I not?”

Taehyung savors your lips on his, he finds his hands in your hair again as he deepens it. He should feel like shit but somehow he feels…good. And he’s confused as hell for it.

~~~~~

The next morning comes by quickly, you are saying your goodbyes to the Kim’s with promises that you will return soon. And you secretly hope you do.

The drive back to Uni is a slow one, you and Taehyung listen to his playlist and chat every now and then while he holds your hand. You smile like an idiot the whole time.

Taehyungs phone is in your hand as you slide through the music options, you’re about to choose a song when he receives an incoming text.

Anna 10:08am

You think that will work, Taehyung? Try harder.

You slide the message up, trying to ignore it. You don’t want some stalker to ruin the good mood you’re in. But you can’t help but wonder what she is talking about. And why hasn’t he blocked her? You don’t say anything to Taehyung, he is also in a good mood and you don’t want to ruin it. He’s humming the tune from the car speakers and lifts his hand that holds yours and kisses it.

Another hour passes and you and Taehyung are in front of your apartment.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to walk you up?” Taehyung questions sweetly.

“I’m sure!” you stand on your tip toes to kiss his cheek and turn around to walk away.

“Oh no you don’t.” Taehyung chuckles as he pulls you in for a kiss on the lips. Then another kiss and then another. “Now you can go.” He teases.

You break out in a wide grin, and tilt your head up to kiss him one last time.

You walk up the steps to your apartment, and walk towards your front door. What an amazing weekend, you think. You got to know Taehyung a lot better, you met his parents and you two shared an unforgettable night—at least for you. Oh no. Should you have returned the favor? Instead of worrying about it you decide it’s okay, he owes you after all. You chuckle to yourself as you unlock the front door.

You step inside your apartment with a an idiotic, dopey ass smile plastered on your face.

“What’s with you?” Jungkook asks from the living room couch.

“Oh nothing,” You sing, “Just had a really good weekend.”

“Oh? So I guess meeting his parents went well?” Jungkook stands to meet you at the entrance, he takes your bag for you and sets it down.

“That too.” You giggle.

Jungkook cocks his head to the side, “I’m serious, what’s up with you?” he can’t help but smile. You look so happy.

“Nothing we just… we just…” you bite your lip, contemplating on what to tell Jungkook.

“You… just?” his smile begins to fade as realization hits him. Then his face hardens. “Did he fuck you?” Jungkook’s voice is lower than you have ever heard it.

“What?” you choke out.

“I asked if this asshole fucked you?”

“Okay, one: he’s not an asshole. Two: no, he did not fuck me.”

Jungkook visibly relaxes.

Telling Jungkook the truth will probably only upset him for some reason so you decide against it. You don’t need his negativity right now. Finally, fucking finally, Taehyung is crossing a line with you…on the side where friendship is beginning to become blurred and nothing makes you more excited. You have been waiting for this, you have spent so much time with him and and… you need this.

“Okay…” Jungkook leans down and picks up your bag and heads to your room. You watch as he swings the bedroom door open and set the bag inside.

“Wanna order some food?” he calls out, walking towards you again.

“Honestly we got up pretty early this morning so I think I’ll take a quick nap. But after? If you’re willing to wait a couple hours?”

“Yeah, that’s fine. Get some rest.” He smiles, jumping back on the couch and pressing play on whatever show he was watching.

Your bed is so unbelievably soft and warm that as soon as you sink in the sheets your eyes are already closing in exhaustion. But your mind stays awake…you think about the weekend you just had with Taehyung and all the progress you have made. You like him so much, you want nothing more than for him to feel the same way. At least you think you…anyway. You recall his lips kissing down your body, his tongue teasing your thighs, his hands gripping your hips.

Taehyungs dark eyes as he stares up from you is without a doubt one of the sexiest things you have had the pleasure of witnessing. Wait—why one of? Why can’t it be the sexiest thing you have ever seen? Then different images bombard your brain but you’re quick to throw them away. Only Taehyung lives in your mind rent free, god damn it. He ain’t gotta pay a penny.

You think about the light, teasing kisses he left on your neck…you think about his fingers and how they fucked you, god they felt so fucking good. You smile as you think about what else he could do for you…your lazy smile widens at the thought.

Your eyes are still closed and images of Taehyung run wild in your mind as you start to doze off. Yes, you can fall asleep with him in your thoughts. Your body feels heavier and heavier as sleep finally takes over, you welcome Taehyung in your dreams as well. At least you hope you dream of him.

The bed creaks beneath you as Jungkook guides you further up the mattress, his body hovering your own. His hands come to slide up your arms as you shiver under his touch.

“I’m giving you goosebumps.” He says while lightly stroking your arm, feeling each bump under his fingertips. “What else do I do to you?”

“So many things Jungkook…” you heavily breathe out, your chest is heaving at this point. The anticipation of his touch is driving you nuts.

“Need to find out.” He simply states, his head lowering down to the crook of your neck. He breathes you in and lowers himself between your spread legs.

“Can I touch you?”

“Yes, please.” You don’t mean to whimper, but you do. You fucking do.

Jungkook’s slender fingers make their way skimming across your bare stomach until he reaches the hem of your panties. He lifts the band up and slaps it against your skin.

“I want these off, is that okay?”

You only nod your head.

“Words y/n. When you’re with me you use your words okay baby?” His fingers begin lowering your panties down. “Lift yourself for me.” And you obey. Jungkook slides your panties down your legs and you’re left completely naked underneath him.

“God, I can just see how wet you are.” You immediately force your legs shut, feeling embarrassed at his words.

“Not uh, I don’t think so. You got this wet for me? I want to see it. Open for me, baby.” Very hesitantly you begin to move your legs apart, the blush on your face deepening.

The rest is almost a blur. You can recall his fingers spreading your folds, you whining for him to touch more of you. You can recall his mouth hovering your pussy, his tongue swirling around your clit. You can recall his fingers stretching you out and moaning out his name. It’s what came next that is very clear in your mind. Its him kissing your lips, whispering sweet nothings into your ear and his cock sliding between your folds. The desire you feel for him is very real and he can feel that.

“Please, Jungkook!” You gasp out, as he teases his cock at your entrance.

Jungkook slides his gorgeous cock into you inch by glorious inch. His cock twitching inside your pulsating pussy, his harsh breaths fanning your face. Jungkook slams his eyes shut, his teeth gritting in anticipation as he waits for you to give the ok. You only gasp for air as he bottoms out, his dick reaching places no one ever has before, you slowly nod your head giving him permission to fuck you into oblivion. He says he could, so you’ll believe him. .

Jungkook opens an eye to look at you carefully, your face contorted in pleasure showing him how you are indeed okay to go on. Jungkook’s hand massages your hips, his touch setting your skin on fire. He begins to slowly ease out of you until just the tip remains then he slams his hips into yours. His body falls forward and he lifts your head up with his free hand and brings you closer for a wild kiss. He grinds himself into you deliciously, his hips rocking back and forth causing you to moan out for him over and over.

“Please…please.” You pant, rolling your hips into his as you meet his desperate thrusts.

“Please what, princess?” he breathes out heavily, “Told you that when you’re with—” He begins fucking into you faster, “When you’re with me…to use your words.” His pace is bruising, causing you to choke on the air around you.

“Please, harder.” You manage to get out while gripping on to his wide shoulders, your finger nails digging into his soft skin.

Jungkook smirks down at you, his eyes shining with something you can’t quite describe.

“Harder?” he questions, his lips coming down to suck bruises into your neck. “Deeper too?” he bites a particular spot that makes you groan.

“Just—just need more of you…” you grab his hair by the handful and yank his head back and bring his face to yours. Your lips meeting his.

His tongue slips past your lips, tongues dancing to the beat of his thrusts. His cock is buried so deep within you that you feel you are no longer a single person but now a person merged with another. You have never felt more connected.

Jungkook whines at the sight of you—your lips apart and eyes barely open. Your head is thrown back showing Jungkook all the pretty blooming bruises on your skin.

“So fucking pretty.” He grits out, eyes lit on fire.

You’re barely able to respond as he thrusts into you even harder, your tits bouncing with each movement.

“Gonna come soon…” he says between heavy breaths, his pace becoming sloppy.

“Gonna come inside me?” you cry out, your fingernails digging into his back.

“Need you to come with me baby”

You could of came from his cock alone, that you are sure of but when his fingers meet your sensitive clit, you are seeing stars. He’s rubbing messy circles, easily sliding around from how wet you are, his fingers getting drenched.

It’s almost embarrassing how quickly his fingers bring you to orgasm.

You gasp out, voice hoarse from all the moaning and screaming he’s drawn from your body. “Fuuuuuucckk.” You whine, your orgasm leaving you breathless.

“I—I’m coming…” he pants in your ear, his breath tickling your sensitive skin.

He fucks into you quickly before stilling his hips and shooting his cum deep within you, decorating your walls. He doesn’t move. You don’t move. He stays buried to the hilt, breathing heavily into the crook of your neck. You aren’t much better, your breaths also harsh. You look to the nightstand to read the clock that says 4 AM. Fuck, what did you do?

You just fucked your best friend.

Panicked and out of breath, you sit up in bed. Sweat forming on your hairline and dribbling down the side of your face. Why? Why this dream of all dreams? Why this memory?

#bts #bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #kim taehyung #taehyung smut #taehyung fluff #taehyung angst

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k3rm1e · 3 years

Note

Hi!!! Can I be ♠️ anon?? Also can I request a chaotic bench trio scenario where they decide meet up and decide to do a cooking stream?? Thanks!!

hello!

Hi!!! Can I be ♠️ anon?? Also can I request a chaotic bench trio scenario where they decide meet up and decide to do a cooking stream?? Thanks!!

hi! of course you can!

summary: you and ranboo fly from america to meet up with tommy and tubbo!

cw: cursing

bench trio meet up:

you had finally done it. after months and months of staying inside and waiting for something, you were finally able to do something. meeting up with what the fandom called “the bench trio” was a far-away dream of yours. being kids, it was more difficult to travel, especially with covid. but finally, here you are… in a humid airport lobby waiting for tommy and tubbo to come pick you and ranboo up. the two of you had just spent over 5 hours in an airplane in close corridors with the others on the plane.

“RANBOOOOoooooooo! MY HUSBANDDDDDDDddd!” you both perked your heads up. a short teen with dark hair was barrelling towards the two of you at top speed, dragging a taller blond male behind him. the two boys stopped at about a foot in front of you. after a few seconds of confusion, realization set in. tommy and tubbo were right in front of you!

“holy shit! oh my god, it’s you guys!” both of you stood up and hugged the others with some inaudible noises muttered. tubbo’s poor parents stared at all of you as you screamed.

“let’s go to the car!” and so you went. tubbo began posting instagram stories with the two of you. tommy tweeted out “why the fuck did my best friend leave me for this” follwed by a photo of ranboo in pajamas with the mask and glasses on. as tubbo’s parents drive you guys to his house, there was a lot of screaming. severe regret of life choices was beginning to set in.

the moment you arrived at tubbo’s house, he had begun planning. after about two hours of fixing yourselves up, making sure you looked like living human beings and not empty, fleshy shells, he had started stream.

several variations of “hello chat” were yelled out. “say ‘hi!’ to today’s guests chat. guests’ say hello!” tubbo was much too energetic considering the time.

a very unenthusiastic “...hi chattttt” came from you, tommy and ranboo.

“chat, do you wanna know what we are making today?” he stared at the camera, before directing the question towards you “what are we making today? tell the chat what we are making today.”

“i don’t know what the fuck we’re making today tubbo, as this was not prematurely discussed with us.” tubbo stared at you with immense disappointment. silence ensued. the awkwardness was like poisonous gas.

“we are making brownies! but not just any brownies…”

“DRUG BROWNIES” was shouted out by tommy.

“NO” tubbo once again gave the disappointed face towards you three. “we are making brownies, with COOKIE DOUGH on the bottom, OREOS in the middle, and BROWNIES on the top! in other words: s l u t t y b r o wn i e s !”

“i love when my brownies are sluts PogChamp”

“tommy, how dare you slut shame the brownies. shame on you. you fucking misogynist.” you stared dead-pan at tommy and watched him go into stuttering shock.

“right, tubbo what do we do first.” ranboo asked him with false excitement.

“thank you, ranboo. ranboo my beloved.”

and so the baking began. taking out bowls, you separated the brownie mix and the cookie mix. tommy and tubbo were working on the cookie mix while ranboo and you made the brownie mix.

“while i go measure out the vegetable oil crack the eggs into the bowl please.” you instructed ranboo to do.

walking away, you suddenly heard a quiet “on no…” coming from behind you. “RANBOO WHY IS THE SHELL IN THE MIX.”

he stuttered for a few seconds before yelling out, “I CAN'T SEE THE BOWL WHILE WEARING THE GLASSES” he stared miserably at the bowl as you ran over to pick out the eggshells.

“would it make you feel better if i got you a bag of spaghetti, ranboo?”

“yes thank you tubbo”

and soon enough there was spaghetti added to the brownie mix. after layering the cookie dough on the bottom of the pan, putting oreos on it, and covering it with brownie mix, it was time to put it in the oven.

“ok chat, for now we can just talk and listen to music until they’re done.”

“now gimme the aux!” tubbo screamed and put on cash by love-sadkid.

“CASH CASH MONEY MONEY BABE THAT'S JUST ALL I’M WORRIED ‘BOUT-”

after about thirty minutes the brownies were finished and had been cooled. After ranboo cut them into squares, you each got ready to take a bite.

“one… two… THREE!” let’s just say the spaghetti was an interesting addition.

i hope you like this! I haven’t really written in this form (ie like a cohesive story type thing) in a while so sorry if its bad ^^;

also here’s a link to the song tubbo put on: cash by love-sadkid

#♠️ anon #mcyt x reader #tubbo x reader #ranboo x reader #tommyinnit x reader

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elareine · 3 years

Note

Tim realizing that since Jason has been in the pit, Jason is always cold. He cant get warm. Tim throws himself into working this out, there has to be something to warm Jason.

Hi, anon, thank you for your patience. I… took the sappy route with this. Since this got longer than 1k, I posted it on ao3, too.

Attempt One

“How’re you doing?”

Tim eyes the bundle in front of him critically. Jason dropped by his safe house thirty minutes ago, teeth chattering after an encounter with Mr. Freeze, and he only looked marginally better. The chattering stopped; that can be a good sign or a very bad one.

Jason gives him a weak grin. “Alright. No danger of turning into an icicle any time soon.”

Hmm. Tim will see that for himself.

When he moves, Jason lifts a hand in protest. “Hey, no—“

Tim completely ignores Jason’s protests—he’d feel worse about it if it wasn’t the only way to handle injured Bats—and sticks his hand between the isolation blanket and Jason’s neck… just to flinch back. “Holy shit!”

“Nah, it’s—“

“It’s hypothermia, is what it is!” Whatever bullshit is coming out of Jason’s mouth, Tim is not listening. “You’re going into shock! We gotta get some extra heat in here, or maybe actually call the hospital; I’m not equipped for this—“

Jason’s hand closes over his mouth. Tim gives him a second to remove it, then he licks it.

Jason just grins. “As I was trying to say: It’s always like that. My body temperature never went back to normal after daying.”

“Nnr?”

“Never.” Jason shrugs. He looks completely unbothered in a way that leaves Tim incensed. That’s just stupid. Did Jason just accept the fact that he’s in constant discomfort as if that’s not a thing there should be—should be—multiple solutions to, what the fuck. Tim is gonna fix this, so God help him.

Tim is so busy coming up with 315 possible solutions that he even forgets to bite Jason’s hand for a moment.

(Only a moment, though. “Ouch!”)

Attempt Two

“I’m not sure how you think piling more blankets on me will help me raise my core temperature.”

“Of course it’s not.”

Jason raises an eyebrow at the three blankets currently on top of him. “Right. Silly of me.”

Tim rolls his eyes. Men. So ungrateful. “Your core temperature is obviously affected. That’s why I brought heating blankets.” Many, many heating blankets. Jason ends up looking somewhat like a disgruntled duck by the end. Tim has pictures to prove it.

Thirty minutes later, Tim takes Jason’s temperature. Still way, way too low for a human. He sighs. That would’ve been too easy, huh.

“You know,” Jason waggles his eyebrows, “there’s a rather more traditional way of warming up under the blanket.”

Tim swats his head. “Keep it in your pants.”

“Even if I wasn’t, you wouldn’t be able to tell under all these blankets,” Jason tells him mournfully.

Tim decides that retreat is the better part of valor. For today. Just until he can stop imagining what Jason could do to… warm up.

Attempt Three

“A hot bath.”

“…you think I haven’t tried that?”

No. No, actually Tim doesn’t, and his expression must adequately convey that cause Jason throws his hands up. “Okay, no, I haven’t, not really. My place isn’t that fancy.”

“It certainly doesn’t have this tub. Now shoo, get out of these clothes.”

“Why, darlin’, you only ever had to ask.” Without ceremony, Jason pulls off his shirt, then begins working on his belt. “Alright, tell me: What makes this tub special?”

“From observation, I conclude that your resistance to high temperatures has also increased,” Tim begins in an excellent mad scientist voice, just to drop it right after. “Or you wouldn’t be able to wear that fucking jacket in summer. So I engineered a tub that will slowly heat up to a temperature just above 50 degrees Celsius.”

“I sure hope so,” Jason grumbles as he climbs in, unabashed in his nudity, “cause right now it’s really fucking cold, babybird.”

Funny cause Tim thinks it’s definitely getting hot in here.

Hoping his face doesn’t heat up—haha—, he looks down at his phone and activates the heat settings on the tub. “At least,” he says thoughtfully, “we don’t have to worry about accidentally causing a heart infarct or anything like with normal freezing victims. I think.”

“I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear that.”

“We’ll take it slow, anyway.”

Almost two hours later, Jason’s skin is red and wrinkled and covered in glitter from Tim’s bath bomb. He’s still cold to the touch.

Attempt Four

“Tea? Really?”

“You like tea.” Jason has been hanging around Tim’s place often enough that the younger man knows. (If there’s a corner of the top shelf just dedicated to Jason’s favorite blends, well, they don’t talk about it.) “And anyway, this tea is special.”

Jason put down the cup. “Tim.”

“Yes?”

“Tell me you didn’t get this from Ivy.”

“I didn’t get this from Ivy,” Tim recites just a little too dutifully. Truthfully, he hasn’t—it’s of his own creation in the lab—but seeing Jason squirm is just too funny.

“The things I do for you, babybird,” Jason sighs and exes about half of it. When nothing obviously terrible happens, he drinks the rest in small, careful sips.

“Nothing?”

“A hint of chamomile—I get that one, soothing—and… bergamot?”

“Yeah, that’s your favorite, right?” Tim’s taking down notes and is only half-listening. “How do you feel? Any warmer?”

When Jason doesn’t reply right away, Tim does look up. “Jay?”

The older man has a slight smile on his face. “A little warmer, yes.”

Tim brightens and jumps up. Jason lets him stick the thermometer under his tongue without any objection. Tim is a little disheartened when it climbs up to 33°C and stays there, again, though he tries to stay focused on the positives: “I guess it’s a start, though. After all, the perception of warmth is just as or more important than the objective temperature.”

“Uhuh.”

“Also, you didn’t turn green, so that’s good.”

“Tim!”

Attempt Five

“Okay, if this doesn’t work, I don’t even know anymore.”

“Please tell me you’re not hooking me up to electrodes.”

“Sorry, that’s too dumb a lie even for me.” Tim is about to demand that Jason takes his shirt off again—an unfortunate side effect of this type of experiment, really, how terrible that he has to ogle those pecs and abs again—when he pauses. “Wait. Is that… a bad thing?”

Which is terrible phrasing for Is this something that was used to torture you? but Jason seems to get it cause he shakes his head. “Nah, just didn’t know you’re into that.”

“I’m not!” Tim isn’t.

…at least, he doesn’t think he is? There’s certainly something to be said about the inherent homoeroticism of applying gel to another man’s skin and attaching electrodes. He’s so caught up in the entire thing—and the way Jason’s muscles jump and twitch when Tim applies his own brand of stimulant ray to them—that he doesn’t notice how quiet Jason is, too.

However, in the end, the thermometer still reads 33°C.

“Fuck,” Tim mutters. “I really thought I had it.”

“Guess I can put my shirt back on.” Jason makes no move to do so.

“Yeah.” Tim is looking at his notes again, trying to figure out where he went wrong. His joking words at the beginning aside, there are still options, avenues for him to pursue. It’s just that these are the most promising ones, and Tim can’t bear the thought of failure. The idea that Jason will just—will just have to live like this, forever cold and disconnected—

He lifts his face when he hears Jason putting his shoes and jacket on. “You don’t have to leave. I can still—“

“Nah, it’s fine. There’re only so many sex jokes I can make before even I can take the hint,” Jason sighs. “Thanks, though, Tim. I really appreciate the effort.” He turns toward the window.

It takes 4.7 seconds for Tim’s brain to catch up with that, and then another 2.4 for it to convince his body to move.

“Jay! Wait!”

The Solution

The afternoon sun throws golden rays into their bedroom. Tim can feel her rays tickle his face, his eyes, so he turns further into the embrace that’s been offered to him all night. Jason doesn’t wake up, just snuffles out a slight snore and pulls Tim half on top of him as if his boyfriend is some sort of overgrown teddy bear.

Tim snuggles into the crook of Jason’s neck contently. In his opinion, there’s no better place to be: His lover underneath him, chest rising and falling with every breath he takes, warm and alive and here for Tim…

Wait.

Warm. Jason’s warm.

Tim scrambles up and frantically reaches for his bedside, where the damned thermometer has a place of pride after the last time he got sick, and Jason returned the favor by taking his temperature every five minutes.

“Babybird…?” Jason’s voice is rough with sleep. Tim feels a little bad about waking him up, but: !!!!

The thermometer climbs. And climbs. When it stops, it reads 36°C degrees.

“That makes absolutely no sense,” Tim whispers, awed.

“Nope,” Jason agrees amiably. “You’ll figure it out, though. Can I have some more snuggles first?”

On the one hand, Tim is dying to look this up in the literature and maybe talk to someone who knows Lazarus Pits better. This doesn’t make sense scientifically, so there has to be some magic involved, right? Perhaps the pits are more into metaphors than they thought, or—there are so many possibilities, and Tim can’t wait to explore them.

On the other hand… Jason’s looking soft and warm, opening his arms for Tim, and he’s smiling. It’s no contest, really.

Tim presses a kiss to Jason’s cheek and sinks back into his embrace, scientific pursuits forgotten.

#elareine writes #jaytim

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chronicsyd · 2 years

Text

Lets Have A Chat She-ra Fandom

alright so I haven’t checked up on the She-ra fandom on tumblr in a bit but my discrepancy has mostly to do with the fandom over on tiktok (because yall are just HORRID over there) but I don't have the time to post a 3 minute video with several takes trying to figure out my wording so you're gonna hear it here.

I’m getting BEYOND tired of the back and fourth of “I like it I hate it” narrative from the fandom. one minute you Love Double Trouble and like that they’re our nonbinary rep the next minute you Hate them and the fact that they have shape shifting powers. one minute you Love Entrapta and are excited that she’s autistic the next minute you Hate it and hate anyone that likes her as autistic rep. one minute you Love Catra and her complex story of being a victim of child abuse and how that affected her relationship with others the next minute you Hate her and claim she’s the most “evil vile toxic person in the show”

And no its not like I'm seeing different people with different opinions on my fyp or anything its the Same People CONSTANTLY going back and forth of “I like this- wait no I don’t anymore” and the MOST chronically online take I've seen as of late about the show is “its the most racist cartoon in most recent years” Now I KNOW the show/ND Stevenson aren’t great when it comes to POC representation. I KNOW this but claiming THAT when I could list shows that are still airing that are Blatantly more racist is just Completely ridiculous.

It’s like you guys don’t even know what you want anymore. And the crazy thing is I’ve seen this happen with EVERY single show that has since had lgbt representation. I saw it happen with Adventure Time, I saw it happen with Steven Universe, I saw it happen with Legend of Korra, and will most likely see it yet again with things like The Owl House (in fact I'm ALREADY seeing it with people getting mad at Amity for being upset that Luz had Blatantly Lied to her. Twice. even AFTER Amity apologized after Luz explained to her what was going on. and some people with Raine and them being our nonbinary rep. like SHUT UP. OH MY GOD SHUT UP)

Next problem is that you people probably wouldn’t be able to tell what an ACTUAL Abusive relationship was if it Smacked you upside the head. am I gonna pretend that Catradora is perfect? no. but comparing it to LUMITY of all things is utterly ridiculous. the issue on that lies within the fact that Catra and Adora and Luz and Amity are VERY different people with different upbringings, issues, Whatever. (and that is Another problem I have with people Constantly comparing wlw ships. like knock that shit off)

And a whole other issue of people ACUTALLY saying “Adora and Catra share character dynamics to Jinx and Vi so therefore Catradora’s relationship is actually sister like and its incest” like do you HEAR yourselves sometimes?! Holy Hell you DO realize that character dynamics and types or relationships are TWO Separate Things correct?

And I could make a whole OTHER post about people talking about “Glimmradora being the “healthy option” out of the ships” (yall IGNORED S4 with That trash take) but like I said this is getting incredibly long and I think I've said what I needed to.

#shera #shera fandom #lets have a conversation #yall have some trash takes #i like it i hate it #SheRa and the Princesses of Power #im getting so tired of it #honestly #relationships aren't black and white #they never have been #and why do you hate our rep #hot take

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anythingforspence · 4 years

Text

the capstone - chapter one

Summary: Reader is a semester away from getting her masters in Psychology and duringher last semester she has to complete her capstone, or passion project if you will. This year, the professors decided that each student will be personally mentored by a psycologyst in distinct fields. When Y/N meets hers, she can’t decide whether she is lucky or if it will be a long 5 months.

Pairing: Female reader x Spencer Reid

Word Count: 1.8 k

Chapter warning: harsh language, sexy talk, no smut yet

A/N: omg tysm for all of the love on the teaser post. i hope i dont dissapoint.

Although I’m wide awake, I let my alarm clock keep beeping and beeping and beeping as I stare up at the white ceiling of my cheap studio apartment. My neighbor woke me up bright and early this morning by doing what sounded like lugging a dead body throughout his apartment. I lifted my head slightly just to slam it back against my bed, whining about being awake at 5:30 am. I’m probably just nervous. I have to complete this passion project for my psychology class by being mentored by a famous psychologist and write a paper about their career and their wisdom I guess. I have a meeting with my mentor today and I don’t know what to expect. My professor kept the identity of our mentors a secret. For the “excitement” and whatnot.

With a sigh, I swing my legs over the side of my bed and bend over to switch off the alarm. Resting my elbows on my knees, I run my hands down my face, basically prepping myself for the fact that I have to stand up soon. The moment I stand, I stretch all throughout my body, ending with my hands high above my head, stretching into the ceiling. My mouth getting ready to yawn when a bang was heard next door, like a book being chucked against the wall ajoined with my neighbors apartment causing me to yelp. I’m pretty sure I heard a chuckle in response to my scream. I glared at the wall, thinking of all the ways I could storm in there and punch my neighbor. I had two choices. I could storm in there and do all the things I wish I could do, or I could mind my business and get ready for the day.

Rolling my eyes I decided to just get ready. I still wanted payback, however, I blasted Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now by The Smiths as I head into the showe. I grab brown trousers, a white button up, and a sage green set of lace undergarments. Not that anyone would see them, unfortunately there has been a drought of sorts in my pants. I just wear them for the aesthetic. Getting undressed, I put on my favorite playlist with all of the songs that make me feel like I’m the main character in an indie film. I heard a light tapping at my door, like some wanted my attention but at the same time wished I never paid attention to them. I decided to ignore it and step under the stream of water in my shower.

Once I was all finished with my shower, I stepped out into my foggy bathroom. Singing along to Bug Collector by Haley Heynderickx, I start drying off and slip on my outfit for the day. I keep my hair in a towel to help it dry some so I don’t have to use any heat on my hair. For my makeup I decided to go for a red lip, neutral blush, mascara, and brows today. Something simple and professional. I let my hair out of the towel and brush it out, not doing too much to it. Blowing myself a kiss in the mirror, I grab my purse and wrap my student ID around my neck, letting it fall next to the golden flower chained to my neck.When I open the door, I laugh in shock at the note my neighbor left for me.“nice taste in music”

I felt something against my leg and knew exactly who it was. “Hi, Payton,” I sweetly spoke to the Sphynx cat at my feet. I named her Payton even though she’s not technically mine and just wanders through the apartment complex. I bend down to give her scratches at her neck. “How’s my cutie patootie. Did you see the asshole who left this not?” She just tilted her head more into my hand, telling me to keep on scratching. “Guess not.” I stand back up and check the time on my watch, “Shit”. I had five minutes to get there.

-----

A bell rang as I entered the coffee shop I was supposed to meet my mentor at, of course with my favorite mask on. My eyes scan the place a little before I walk up to the counter to order my favorite drink. “Hi can I just get a 16 ounce Earl Grey, please?” The barista said something along the lines of yes of course and how my total was 2.16. “Alrighty, thank you.” It didn’t take too long for it to be done. They weren’t very busy and it’s just a tea bag and hot water.

“Excuse me, are you Y/F/N Y/L/N?”

Woah. His voice sent a tingle down my spine. Probably just because I haven’t had much human contact or the fact that I haven’t been laid in a while but, my god, what I would give for him to say my name again. But that was nothing compared to what I saw when I turned around. I’m just glad I was wearing a mask so he didn’t the way my lips parted when my eyes met his. He had curly brown hair and he dressed like an old man, doesn’t sound like much but for me, that’s everything. Oh my gosh, and he had nerdy little cute glasses? When I realized I was staring I averted my eyes and started blushing.

“Um, yes, hi, that’s my name. I’m so sorry, but what’s your name?” The tremor in my voice made me want to just drop dead. I’m a woman of science but if the Earth knew how to open up and swallow people, now would be the time to prove it.

“Oh hi. I’m Doctor Spencer Reid. I’m your psychology mentor. Did your professor not tell you?” He seemed so confused, oh my god he’s so cute.

“Oh. Oh my God I’m so sorry! My professor didn’t let us know who was mentoring us, just in case we did prior research or something. I’m sorry. But yes um I’m Y/N. It’s very nice to meet you, sir,” I kept on rambling, looking anywhere but his eyes. Unfortunately, it made me look like I was checking him out. Oh fuck.

Chuckling a bit, he goes, “Oh no your fine. No need to apalogize. It’s a pleasure to meet you miss Y/N.” Not going to lie, the way he said my name sent tingles to my pussy. Oh my god what is wrong with me! I can’t be thinking these things about the person who is going to mentor me! Stop being so horny.

I started to blush and I cleared my throat and gestured towards the window. “Um, should we go sit out there?”

“Oh yes of course. Please after you,” he said, his hand finding the small of my back, hitching my breath and making me nervously mess with the rings on my fingers. We sat at the iron tables outside of the coffee shop, he pulled my chair open for me, finally his hands off of me. I felt like I could breathe again but at the same time I felt sad, empty. He took off his mask to take a sip of what he was drinking and holy shit. He had some scruff and his lips just looked so inviting. I wanted to distract from the silence that was biting at me. “So, uh, what do you do?” My voice trailing off, making everything so much heavier with awkwardness and the sexual tension that was just coming from me.

“What do you mean what do I do?” Fuck. I looked so stupid of course he does something in pschology. That’s the whole reason you’re here.

“W-well, um, like what specific area do you work in?”

“I do criminal profiling with the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI.” My eyebrows bunch together in confusion. What does that have to do with psychology? Almost as if he’s reading my mind he continues, “We psycho analyze crime scenes, victims, bodies to understand why a criminal would do what they did, which helps us to understand the type of person they are, their background, and it leads us to the criminal, or unsub.”

“Wow that’s actually really cool. But, like, how does that all work?”

“Tell me, Y/N, when was the last time you had sex?” I didn’t say anything. I was so shocked. First off, how inappropriate, but also how did he know? “When I first walked in, you kept on looking me up and down as if you’ve never seen a man before. You keep fidgeting with your rings. Usually new jewelry makes people fidget but the stains on your fingers suggest you wear rings frequently which means you're nervous. Also ever since I’ve taken my mask offyou haven’t stopped staring at my lips. So, sweet girl, tell me when was the last time you were satisfied?”

I just sat there, gapping at him like a fish out of water. What was I supposed to say? Why thank you for asking, although the last time I’ve had sex was a year ago but the last time I’ve orgasmed has been longer? Before I could come up with an answer he got a phone call. Someone named Morgan needed him or something. Whatever it was, it seemed urgent.“Sorry our meeting got cut short, Y/N. Very important FBI business came up. Here is my card, has my name, email and phone number. I recommend calling me because I don’t usually check my emails or my texts. Your professor already gave me your contact information so I know how to find you. I am very excited for the upcoming months.”

“Oh- uh, thank you,” I whispered, still shocked. He grabs my hand so that he can hand me my card since I haven’t moved a muscle.

“Oh and Y/N?” My head wips up at him and I let out a “hmm?” that could be mistaken for a moan. “Green is a nice color on you.” Confused, I looked down to see my button up shirt had popped open, letting my green covered tits be seen by the world. Eyes blown open, I immediately cover myself and say a thank you that sounded so embarrassing because my voice cracked. He just chucked and told me he would contact me soon. Before he left, I could’ve sworn he looked at me as if I was a sexy hollywood actress or something. But I brushed it off. Maybe he was concerned for me. After all, I had my tits out and made it obvious that I was desperately horny. God these five months will be awful if I keep thinking about Dr. Reid as a sex partner than a mentor. Then again the concept of having sex with your mentor can be hot. Nope. No. I should stop there.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #dom!spencer #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut

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fangroyal · 3 years

Note

#3 What is that one scene that you’ve always wanted to write but can’t be arsed to write all of the set-up and context it would need? (consider this permission to write it and/or share it anyway)

Fun Meta Asks for Writers

Adding the link to the ask game at the start this time, 'cause this is gonna be a long one, y'all. 😂

Where do I even begin? First of all, @angie-leena, thank you so SO much for sending me this ask! It was the kick in the ass I needed to get me to actually write this scene, and for that I’m extremely grateful. I still don’t know if I’m entirely happy with the finished product, but it exists now, and that’s something.

So some of you may remember (if anyone actually follows my ramblings, haha!) that I’ve been simultaneously complaining about and obsessing over this gigantic WIP I’ve had since fucking March 2019. Nearly two and a half years have passed since I put the first word to paper, and oh how I’ve loved to cry out in frustration about how I have about 12k written on the stupid thing and yet not a single scene finished.

AT LEAST

NOT UNTIL TODAY

YES, I’VE DONE IT. I’ve finished a scene on this amazing, wonderful, and incredibly stupid WIP, and I could just cry.

FYI for anyone who doesn’t know what the fuck I’m talking about (which I’m sure is everyone, ‘cause I don’t expect anybody to remember this insane thing I’ve been shouting about all this time, LOL): this is the Slytherin My Gryffindor WIP. Yes, that is a working title. 😅 I will find a better one.....some day.......Ron/Draco is the main pair, but there will also be plenty of others sprinkled in the background.

Anyway, about this ask and that context I haven’t been arsed to write yet...

Context required in order to understand this scene 😂:

Fred Lives AU

The Muggle world and the Wixen world has kind of mixed in recent years, and it’s very common for magical people to be using Muggle technology

The Weasley twins have opened a second shop in Diagon Alley...selling sex toys (yes, really)

Their first original product line issssssss..........dildoes shaped like the Weasley brothers’ own dicks (and a fleshlight kind of thing for Ginny)

Yes this is crack!fic (but, like, also not???)

Ron has been made general manager of the shop and is there all the time, as they’re incredibly busy

Draco wants 👏 that 👏 D 👏, but is worried about Ron finding out, so keeps coming into the shop randomly hoping he won’t be there (and of course he always is)

Eventually there’s a day where Ron’s in the backroom, Charlie’s visiting and helping out at the register, and when Ron emerges, Charlie informs him that Draco Malfoy has just run in and bought Ron’s dildo

Cue Ron being incredibly turned on by this notion

So that pretty much brings us up-to-speed for this scene - it’s been a few days now, and Ron’s been trying to figure out a way to contact Draco to talk to him about the whole thing, since they never became friends or anything after the war and don’t regularly talk unless they’re just seeing each other around

The fic is meant to touch on, like...fame in the aftermath of the war (i.e. why anyone would be interested in sex toys modelled after the Weasley siblings in the first place)

Ron has evolved from his teenage self and grown to hate the fame - it prevents him from being able to date, because the press can never let him keep anything private

After this scene, the fic will focus on Ron and Draco developing a sexual - and eventually romantic - relationship (originally under the guise of “testing out” other products from the shop together)

They will try their best to keep their relationship a secret, but, like...everyone knows 😘😘😘

Also Draco is a model in this one (not important for this scene, but just thought you might want to know 😂)

In addition, some warnings/content to make note of before reading:

NC-17 (smut incoming!)

Technology circa 2005

Phone sex

Semi-public sex

Sex toys

Both Ron and Draco are a little drunk (but very consenting!)

Crack taken way too seriously

Of course, this hasn't been betaed or Britpicked, so I apologize for how very rough it is right now, lol. It will likely be a little (or a lot!) different if I ever actually finish this whole fucking fic and post it later on. I am treating this scene like a “sneak peek” of the fic, because I definitely do still want to try to finish it someday...

HOLY SHIT, I had a LOT more to say about it than I thought. 😅 So anyway. Scene under the cut.

Friday night at the Dragon's Head was packed. It took a bit of initiative, but Ron, Seamus, and Dean finally managed to snag them all a table in the back corner, hoarding the extra seats till Harry and Neville finally arrived, trailed closely by Ginny and Parkinson ― who were curiously short one blond wizard.

Ron tried not to think about it. He bought the first round with Harry, listening to him chat about the recent Puddlemere match against the Magpies. They ordered nibbles for the table. Ron munched on chips, his heart skipping every time the door opened across the room and another few patrons trickled in.

He was on his third pint of the evening when he started getting antsy. He sipped his Simison, using the light smoke curling around the rim of the glass to discreetly glance around the pub, hoping to spot a familiar head of blond hair in the crowd. His foot tapped impatiently on the floor.

"Is he coming, then?"

Ron's head snapped to attention. Ginny checked the door as well before turning back to Parkinson.

"Who?" Neville asked, snagging a vinegar-soaked chip from the bowl in the center of the table.

"Malfoy," Ginny said, craning her neck to see her girlfriend's screen.

Parkinson tapped away on her mobile, shaking her head. "No. Says he's already curled up with a bottle of wine and a good book, and doesn't fancy getting all done up."

Fucking hell. Ron drained the dregs at the bottom of his glass. It wasn't often Malfoy joined them on a mostly-Gryffindor outing ― not unless Parkinson could convince him. Somehow, Ron felt he should've known it wouldn't be in the cards tonight. Conversation pivoted again, and Ron ran his fingers up the sides of his empty pint, thinking.

At some point, Seamus and Harry set off to get another round, and Ginny hurried away with them after a quick peck to Parkinson's cheek. Neville and Dean had gotten into a chat about proper Mimbulus mimbletonia care, and Ron saw his chance. He could feel his heart start to thud in his chest as he cleared his throat, raising his voice to catch her attention.

"Parkinson?"

She turned back from watching Ginny leave, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Yes?"

"Think you could give me Malfoy's number?"

The smirk she gave him in response made his hands shake a little as they drummed against the tabletop.

"Whatever for?"

Ron stared her down, knowing full well any excuse he told her would never be enough. Parkinson's expression was predatory ― as if she already knew the answer anyway. He waited for her to comment, bracing himself.

To his surprise, she instead dug her mobile back out of her handbag.

She turned the screen towards him, and he typed the number directly into the dialer on his phone. He waited a few minutes until everyone ― Parkinson included ― had moved on to other things and forgotten about him, and then slipped from the table.

Ron shouldered his way through the crowd to the loo, pushing inside and locking the door behind him. It was a small room, hardly bigger than a broom closet. There was a toilet and a sink, a grimy mirror hanging above it, and a dim ceiling lamp that barely lit the space.

Ron backed up to one side of the room and slumped against the wall. He gripped the phone in clammy hands. Those pints had picked a perfect moment to hit him all at once. Ron blinked away the creeping dizziness, staring down at the numbers glowing dauntingly on the tiny screen. He'd been unable to get it out of his mind for days ― the image of Malfoy riding his dildo ― and now that he had a way to contact him, he was frozen. The leaky faucet dripped, the sound maddening as it mingled with the rush of blood in his ears. This was stupid. This was so bloody stupid.

He hit call.

Ron held his breath, cupping the phone to his ear. The line rang and rang, until he started to realize he didn't have a plan B. What if Malfoy didn't answer? What if he had to leave a voicemail? What would he even say? He should've just texted him, damn it.

Then, suddenly, the ringing stopped. There was rustling and a mumbled, "Bloody useless thing." Then, louder, "Yes?"

"Malfoy?"

"Yes, this is ― Weasley?"

Malfoy sounded surprised. Ron breathed out gradually, his heartbeat slowing with it. Malfoy's voice was clear and present on the other end. No looking back. He tried to think of something to say, and only came up with one thing.

"Haven't seen you round the shop yet this week."

"Don't tell me that's really why you called." Malfoy sighed, trying to sound put-upon, but Ron could hear the hint of nerves underneath. "If you must know, that would be because I found what I'd been looking for."

"I know."

There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end. For a moment, Ron thought Malfoy might hang up. But then he cursed quietly. "Damn that brother of yours. Incorrigible."

So it really was true. Charlie hadn't just been taking the piss. Ron felt a warmth flare up in his belly, spreading down to the tops of his thighs.

"Try growing up with him. And the twins? Now that's a real nightmare."

"I was trying for discreet, but you were always there."

Ron leaned further back against the wall, staring up at the dark ceiling above. He thought of all those times Malfoy had dropped in at the shop, only to hurry out again if Ron ever came too close. Malfoy had jumped at the chance when Ron had been called away to the back that day.

Malfoy cleared his throat. "Well. You know. So what, then? Looking to mock me for it?"

"You always assume the worst with me. Why is that?" Although Ron couldn't exactly blame him. He hadn't given Malfoy much else to go on in years past. Neither of them had. "No. No, I was calling because…" Why had he been calling? It had seemed such a natural thing when he'd asked Parkinson for Malfoy's number not five minutes ago. "I was curious. If there was, er." He waved his free hand, searching for the words. Nothing sounded right. "Any particular reason for it."

Malfoy laughed ― a short bark of a sound. "I mean, obviously yes. It's a sex toy, Weasley."

Ron snorted, taken aback. "That's not ―"

"Actually, I thought it'd make a nice statement in the middle of my dining table. It would be an excellent conversation piece for dinner parties."

"For fuck's sake, Malfoy, I didn't ―"

A chuckle rumbled through from the other end of the line. There was that snark again. Merlin, it made Ron hot, his skin blooming from his collar up to his ears. He chewed his lip, pulling back the grin that threatened to spread across his face.

"I only meant ― was there a reason? That you'd picked mine?"

The line suddenly went quiet. Ron had to check his phone just to make sure the call hadn't dropped.

When Malfoy finally replied, his voice was soft, uncertain. "What would possess you to call and ask me that?"

Ron breathed in slowly, his hand tapping an incoherent rhythm on his thigh. "Well, I'm a bit pissed, to be honest," he admitted, still feeling the slight burn the Simison had left in his throat.

Malfoy didn't say anything more at first. The lamp above buzzed as the faucet continued to drip. Ron could hear the noise from the pub pressing up against the other side of the door.

Then, Malfoy said, "Maybe there was."

Ron felt his heart jump into his throat. "Was what?"

"A reason why I bought it," Malfoy said slowly, deliberately. "Figure it out, Weasel."

Oh, bloody hell. Ron took a shaky breath. Every nerve felt like it was on fire.

"And...how was it?" Ron heard himself ask as if from very far away.

Even over the din of the music beyond the bathroom door, he could hear Malfoy swallow. "It was good."

"Oh, ta." Ron chuckled despite himself.

"No, I mean...Bugger." It was nice hearing Malfoy so flustered. A rare occurrence, and one that the little fluttering pixie in Ron's stomach very much wanted to repeat. "It was brilliant, alright? Happy?"

Brilliant. The word tingled down Ron's spine. For some reason, he couldn't wipe the smile from his face. Bloody hell, was this really happening? He thought of fleeting insults thrown in the school corridors all those years ago ― then he thought of a night just a few months ago, the look in Malfoy's eyes as Ron told him about the shop.

"You wrote a song about me once, if I remember correctly," Ron said, feeling deliriously happy.

"I suppose I did." Malfoy sighed.

Ron's eyes flicked to the door, to the noise of the crowd beyond. "Why didn't you want me to know?"

"Oh, please, Weasley," Malfoy said bitterly. "Pick a reason."

"I know, but ―" Ron tried to argue, but Malfoy cut him off.

"You don't owe me anything. It would be incredibly unfair for me to expect you to be interested in return."

Ron supposed that was fair enough. He'd had similar feelings towards Malfoy until very recently.

"I would be, though. I mean ― I am."

Saying the words out loud gave them a weight Ron hadn't felt before. He let them roll off his tongue, flattened the tip of it along his lips as he thought about flashes of icy blond hair, high cheekbones, and long fingers swirling around the rim of a glass. He thought of the moment he'd finally realized Malfoy had been looking back.

"Oh." Malfoy paused, seeming surprised by that revelation. "Good to know."

Malfoy fidgeted. Ron listened intently, hearing the breath he released and the scrape of his fingers against his mobile.

"You wouldn't ― ah." Malfoy caught himself, and Ron waited for him to continue, his ears ringing. "Would you want to…?" Malfoy trailed off, finishing his thought with a scoff.

"Would I want to what ― oh."

Oh.

Ron swallowed hard. He wanted to believe Malfoy was asking him what he thought he was asking him, but even after everything, it was almost too good to be true. The long stretch of awkward silence on the other end told him he was right, though, and that made him jittery, his hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck.

"I could be reading too much into this," Malfoy muttered.

"No, no, definitely not. I mean." Ron licked his lips, his mouth suddenly feeling far too dry. "I just don't want you to think I expect this."

Malfoy made a sound, and Ron could practically feel him rolling his eyes on the other end of the line.

"Oh, so you don't ring up every person who buys a model of your cock and ask them how they enjoyed it?"

"What? No, of course not!" Ron stopped, realizing, and laughed at himself. "You're joking. That was a joke."

"Terribly clever, this one."

A sudden jiggling of the door handle made Ron jump, almost dropping his mobile in the process.

"Occupied!"

He fumbled with the phone, his heart thudding wildly. When he put it back to his ear, Malfoy was laughing. The sound made Ron feel weak in the knees.

"Where are you?" Malfoy asked, still snickering.

"In the loo at the Dragon's Head."

"Oh, of course." Malfoy sucked his teeth contemplatively. "Hang on. Is there anyone in there with you?"

Another frustrated turn of the door handle.

"It's a single."

"Good." Malfoy lowered his voice conspiratorially. "Do you want me to use it?"

Ron pressed his hand flat against the door, waiting until he heard the bloke give a huff and storm off. "Use what?"

"Your dildo, Weasley."

The silken drawl of Malfoy's voice spread like gooseflesh across Ron's skin. "Right now?" he asked incredulously, although he was already half hard at the thought.

"I could give you an exclusive product review. Unless you don't want to."

"No, I do!" Ron replied quickly, and Malfoy laughed again, making him blush.

"Eager, are we?"

"Yes." Ron passed a hand over his face, trying to laugh as well, but it came out shaky. Merlin, it had been all he could think about for the past few days. Still, he'd never imagined Malfoy would offer it outright. "Just didn't take you for the phone sex type."

Malfoy hummed. "You caught me in a randy mood. Now how do I ― ah, right."

Ron assumed he'd been put on speakerphone, as there was now an echo. He dug out his wand for a moment and cast a quick Silencio on the bathroom. It was a wonder how he had the brain power to spare, when all the blood in his body was suddenly rushing to his cock. He could hear Malfoy fumbling for something on the other end.

"Where are you?" Ron asked in return, trying to distract himself from the heady thrum of anticipation.

"In bed. Naked," Malfoy added with a hint of a smirk in his voice. Ron groaned, shutting his eyes against the image of Malfoy stretched out on soft sheets, hard and waiting for him. Merlin, had he been naked the whole time they were talking? Ron pressed the heel of his palm to the crotch of his jeans.

Malfoy went silent for a moment, until there was a faint intake of breath. His bed creaked distantly in the background.

Ron licked his lips, cupping his hand around the solid, hot line of his cock under his trousers. "Are you prepping yourself?"

"Of course." Malfoy breathed out steadily, the bed creaking again. "You're bigger than I thought you'd be. Although I'd always wondered."

Fucking hell. Ron arched against his hand. Was he really going to get his cock out in a pub toilet? The last shred of his resolve melted away when he heard Malfoy moan, low and guttural, a sound that shot straight through Ron, all the way to his toes. He imagined Malfoy laying back, his knees bent up, and slick fingers down between his legs, pressing in and out of his puckered hole. Ron was switching the phone to his left hand before he could give it a second thought. He flicked open the button on his jeans and pushed his pants down to hook under his balls, taking himself in hand.

Ron rolled his hand down over his length. Malfoy's breath hitched, and he cursed, the bed shifting with him. Ron caught his lip between his teeth, wondering how many fingers he had in him. He imagined himself leaning over Malfoy on the bed, licking a hot stripe along his neck as his hand worked him open, his thighs falling open as he settled between them.

"Fuck, I needed this," Malfoy breathed. Ron moaned, pulling his foreskin back and rubbing over the weeping head of his cock.

Malfoy muttered a Cleansing charm, and then a drawer was pulled roughly open nearby. Ron heard Malfoy pick up the phone, moving and setting it down again as he bounced on the bed, adjusting himself.

"Are you ―?" Ron wanted to ask, but he couldn't finish the thought, left hand gripping the phone hard as he tried to steady himself.

"Yes, gods."

Ron paused, listening as Malfoy shifted and panted on the other end. He didn't have to ask when it was fully in. He knew the moment Malfoy's breath faltered, the gasp he gave sending shivers down Ron's spine.

Malfoy huffed, the sound so loud to Ron's ears as the whole world funneled down to a point, to this moment as he listened to Malfoy move the toy inside of himself. He moaned, and Ron thought he could hear the squelch of lube on the other end of the line as it entered him.

"Talk to me, Weasley."

Malfoy sounded wrecked. It was enough to make Ron's toes curl just to hear it. It was almost too much to handle ― the idea of Draco Malfoy being thoroughly fucked out by a dildo modelled after Ron's own cock. Ron's head thunked back against the wall. His hand trembled a little as he began stroking himself again.

"Get on your knees for me," he said softly.

Malfoy swore. Ron heard him flip over, his panting breaths suddenly closer to the receiver. In his mind, he could see Malfoy bent over the bed, arse in the air and cheek pressed against the mattress, lips rosy and parted. He imagined himself knelt behind Malfoy, hands gripping his slender hips.

"There's, uh." Ron swallowed. "There's a self-shagging feature. If you want. The spell's ―"

"Oh, we're well acquainted."

"Fuck," Ron moaned. No way he was going to last like this. He rocked his hips, thrusting into the tight circle of his fist. Malfoy sounded like he was trying to collect himself, even as his voice broke on the last word. Ron couldn't begin to explain why that aroused him so much, but he didn't care, already speeding up his hand as it flew over his cock.

Malfoy cast the spell, and Ron felt his cry as the toy began to move on its own. The bed gave a jolt under Malfoy's weight. He gasped again, and Ron heard his fingers scrambling across the sheets.

Ron could almost see it. He imagined Malfoy's bowed back, his knees slipping and spreading apart, his toes curling. The bed creaked with each movement. A dildo of Ron's own making, Malfoy arching back onto it as it fucked him down onto the mattress. Merlin, he should've known Malfoy would take it so well, his eyes rolling back as he listened to the sounds Malfoy made as it thrust into him.

Ron closed his eyes and felt like he was sitting in the room, watching the whole show, watching a copy of his cock pound into Malfoy again and again. The pub outside the bathroom door fell away from him, and all he could focus on was Malfoy's voice and his hand on his own cock.

"Tell me how it feels," Ron choked out, wanting to hear it, see it, touch it, to watch Malfoy unravel under Ron's hands and cock, to capture each cry with his tongue.

Malfoy groaned. "So ― good ―"

"Tell me," Ron rasped again, thrusting his hips forward into his hand. "Tell me ― ah ― how good it is."

"It's so ―" Malfoy cried out, his hands skittering over the sheets. "So good ― so big ― I ―"

"Fucking hell, Malfoy."

At that point, Ron didn't know if he wanted to be watching the toy fuck Malfoy or if he wanted to take over for it. Was he really getting jealous of a dildo? He wished he was there. He wanted to tell Malfoy as much, but he couldn't manage it, instead moaning loudly as he felt his balls begin to draw up against him.

"Fuck, Weasley, you're gonna make me come," Malfoy whined, his posh accent slipping.

Holy shit, and that was what did it. Ron made a gut-punched sound, his wrist flicking over the head of his cock. He was coming almost before he'd even realized. He barely had the presence of mind to do anything about it before the first spurt had dribbled onto the floor. He pushed off the wall and lent forward, pumping the remainder into the sink. He heard Malfoy swear, and Ron slumped back against the wall again, listening as he came apart with a shuddering cry.

The line went quiet once more. Ron rested his head on the tiles behind him, closing his eyes, holding his softening cock. For a long time, all he could hear was Malfoy breathing on the other end, his own heartbeat equally loud in his ears.

"I liked that. A lot."

Eloquent as always. Ron half expected for Malfoy to say just that, but instead he heard a very soft chuckle ― and then, quietly, "So did I."

Now that his heart rate was gradually slowing, the noise of the club outside wormed its way back in, reminding Ron of where he was, and what he'd just done. He shuffled his feet uncomfortably, glancing at the door when he heard a chatty couple pass by. How long had he been in there? Were the others looking for him?

Another person suddenly banged on the door, and Ron started, pushing off from the wall and quickly withdrawing his wand, disabling his Silencio and spelling himself clean.

"Right." He wanted to say more. Merlin, he did. But instead all he said just then was, "Well, I should probably, er, get back to it. You know?"

"Of course." There was rustling on the line, and then Ron was off speakerphone, Malfoy's voice close and intimate again in a way that made him shiver. "Have a good night, Weasley."

"You too, Malfoy."

Ron exited the bathroom, ignoring the irritated look the other patron gave him as he slipped past.

The entire way back to their table, he felt like he was floating on a cloud. Harry gave him an odd look when he slid into his seat, pulling the fresh pint they'd bought him an indeterminable amount of time ago towards him. Ron couldn't even begin to catch up with what they were all talking about, his mind drifting to thoughts of Malfoy, his mobile a leaden weight in his pocket as the night wound on.

#writer asks #dron #ron x draco #ron weasley #draco malfoy #harry potter #hp #fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #hp fanfiction #fangqueen writes fanfiction #fangqueen speaks

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thewriterowl · 3 years

Note

I need people to be including tone indicators or something because I'm having a really hard time understanding what's happening. I read the original anon message and it was fine. They seemed maybe a little concerned but mostly they were just trying to get a situation sorted and better. You replied and seemed really genuine in wanting to rectify the situation. But then Starbound replied and his response seemed very disproportionate to what had happened. He made it seem like the anon was attacking you and that wasn't how I preserved the situation at all. Was I wrong about the whole thing? Was the anon being malicious? We're you being condescending? I don't agree with what Starbound said of fic writers not owing their readers tags but I also don't agree with maliciously attacking fix writers who 99.9% of the time apropriarly tag their posts and blowing that one instance way out of proportion. I'm so confused and nervous. Please help if you can. /gen

Hey! It is very hard to read tone over the internet, totally agree.

I read the ask as concerned too...but a bit aggressive. The anon made an approach in a way that it could be easy to read as they are saying I'm being ignorant of others and presenting an assumption i am not a survivor of anything and this is a multitude of offenses. I think they reacted in shock and to protect others but the language, cursing, and some choices presented can easily be read as guard dog. There is a positive intent there, I do believe that, but there is also a sense at being lunged at from them.

I've missed tags before--it happens. I hate when it does, but hey it can be easy to overlook at times. Or maybe there is something I haven't thought about. In my story Hope someone pulled me aside and said "hey, you know how you mentioned Luke has an unhealthy relationship with food--that may trigger someone. Could you tag that please?" and I was all, "oh man, that's a great point. I didn't think of it!" and I tagged it in the chapters. Now, Tumblr can be harder, it doesn't have the best tagging system in my opinion and when I start to get on a roll answering asks it can be easy to forget to do a tw: Dark or something. But normally I do if I see as what is being written as triggering.

The people who support me, whom I love dearly, saw this as someone who saw one thing and reacted before they really thought out what they were writing--because I don't believe they have ever approached me before. So, them coming up and saying I am personally making things unsafe was, in of itself, triggering because it felt as if there was no thought from their end on what exactly they were saying.

But I do agree with Starbound on the tagging. I think we as a community should try and tag. We should work together to focus on making things safer for others...but fan fiction and art and all of that is not something "owed" to people. There is a two-way-street of responsibility here. Some people won't tag, some people forget to tag, sometimes tagging has a challenge (seriously, in Tumblr v. AO3 tumblr has a ways to go to make things better) because when you tag something here it's not just being fed as not appearing in people who have blocked it...it may not appear at all. And for people who are maybe making commissions, who are talking about different things, etc. etc. that being "fully blocked" can't work. So they have to think of other ways to tag it--and other people will need to see it and react in a way that is responsible for them and pull away.

I will always tag. I will always do my best to tag it properly. But there has been a history of "dark content" and the creators of it being exiled and personally attacked even WITH tags (I saw it in the Sherlock fandom--it was not a pretty sight and very unfair). So those of the dark content can get a bit protective and frustrated when instead of being approached as a conversation, we can be approached with a lecture and accusations and the presentation that dark content creators are all ignorant or those who would instigate what they are writing about...completely overlooking that a massive amount of them are involved in these because they dealt with things themselves.

I feel that each interaction can be a lesson experience. We want to help teach people. But, like there are bad teachers, there can be bad "lessons" and when someone presents a "bad lesson" in where they approach things with something that can be read as an intent to bite, others will come out and bite right back...because then it feels like someone came on their yard to say "you've attacked someone, holy shit" not realizing they just came on and did the same.

Unless making a generalized post to vent, I think everyone needs to approach a blog with "greetings, please, thanks, bye!" type of mind-set when they see something they don't like. I feel that is the professional step and cannot be misinterpreted of a demand or of an attack.

Did I read it as an attack? Not really. But there were triggering language in their ask to me and people responded in kind, just as they did to whatever post I made (which I still am not quite sure which).

So, I think this can be a learning experience of just always take a step back and breathe before you reach out in regards to things that may not settle right with you.

I hope that helped and made sense! :)

#owl inbox

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hskrealm · 4 years

Text

innocence (m.)

pairing: drag racer yoongi x reader

genre: fluff, smutsmutsmut. (this post took a turn i swear)

word count: 3.2k

warnings: overstimulation, PET NAMES SO MANY PET NAMES WHAT WAS I THINKING, fingering, oral (f receiving), cute shit, virgin!reader, yoongi is a bit persuasive, etc.

summary: your best friend wants to take your innocence in every possible way.

a/n: i wrote this MONTHS ago, and i literally forgot about it up until yesterday, or sometime before that? i was sad because I deleted it, but my bby @bitchyaus reblogged it after i posted it, and i have NEEEEVEEER been happier.

You hummed as you sat on your couch while scrolling through your social media feed and taking small bites of your favorite snack every now and then.

It was only 7:09. You’d usually find something to occupy yourself every day until 8:00 on the dot (although he’d come early sometimes, but that wasn’t often), which was when Yoongi would come knocking on your door with a new story to tell and to raid your fridge of whatever he could find.

If necessary, you’d tend to the few bruises his beautiful face would sport.

Once he was comfortable enough to tell you what his occupation was, you cringed the moment you imagined him sitting behind the wheel of a vehicle, pushing 200 to nearly 300 miles on a daily basis.

You begged him to consider something safer, to which he responded with a small smirk,

“I’ve been doing this years before I even met you. If I’ve managed to keep myself in good condition for this long, then I’m sure that you have nothing to worry about.”

This had become a repetitive cycle in the short year that you had known him. He’d shoot you a text before he went out for the day, and come speeding back to your place once he was let off of work.

Or–when he let himself off, rather. He never really was the type to follow rules anyway.

You smiled fondly at the thought of seeing his gummy smile sometime in the next hour.

You checked your phone again.

7:14.

Well, 46 minutes to be exact.

You sighed and tossed your head back against the couch cushions as you tried to register what about this man had you so whipped for him.

Could be the fact that he was a sweetheart when it came to you,

Or it could also be the fact that he looked so fucking hot driving those cars despite how much you hated seeing him behind the wheel.

Or, it could be that he had really, really pretty hands–

There was a loud knock at your door. It carried the same loudness that Yoongi’s carried.

Okay, you have really got to find yourself a hobby.

The person knocked twice, and then there was a three second pause before the last and final knock came.

You grinned as you rushed over toward the door.

There was his signature knock that he had given himself sometime a few weeks ago.

He suggested that he should have a special knock so you knew it was him, although you told him multiple times that no one other than him or your best friend came to visit.

He still wouldn’t let up even then, muttering something about how it would be the safest measure. You then (jokingly) proceeded to tell him he knew nothing about safety, which led him to tell you about all of the safety precautions people in his profession must take before even considering driving one of those high speed cars.

He couldn’t take a joke, but that was alright. You loved him anyway.

You took a quick glance through the peephole just to make sure it was him before you unlocked the door.

As usual, he rushed in and threw his bag to the ground before making a beeline to your kitchen.

“Nice to see you too.” You smiled a bit, closing the door back and locking it behind yourself.

“I shouldn’t have to greet you anymore when I enter.” He spoke, although his voice was a bit muffled since he was bent over as he shuffled through your fridge.

“It’d be nice, though.” You sighed dramatically as you walked back over to your couch and flopped onto it.

“Sure.” He shrugged, returning from the kitchen to take his spot next to you on the couch as he always did.

“Hello, Princess.” He smirked, laughing at the way you rolled your eyes and looked away from him.

He’d called you that for forever now, and you’d be a terrible fucking liar if you were to say that it didn’t make your pussy clench.

He knew that it did, too, which was why he said it.

“Did you do something productive today?” He asked, as he took a bite out of one of the strawberries out of the bowl that he quickly prepared for himself.

“I did some school work earlier.” You shrugged, gesturing toward your closed laptop that sat on the arm of the couch closest to you.

He hummed, nodding approvingly.

“Good girl,” He noticed the way that your body shivered at his praise. He always talked like this, but for some reason it was really having an impact on you right now.

“Have you eaten something filling today?” You bit your lip.

You hadn’t had a ‘meal’, but you had some pretty filling snacks. You just weren’t in the mood to cook anything, or even order something.

There was no point in lying to him either, because he could see right through you.

“Depends on what the word filling means.” You responded, as if this wasn’t a question that he asked you everyday.

Yoongi narrowed his eyes at you and set the bowl of strawberries down on your coffee table before quickly reaching over your thighs to grab the bag of chips that you had been snacking on before his arrival.

His hand brushed over the exposed skin of your legs, causing you to gulp. He was always a forward person, but never this forward.

“This isn’t a meal, ____ . “ He scolded, and you rolled your eyes.

“I know, but I can promise you that I am satiated.” Yoongi shook his head in disbelief.

“You hungry?” He asked, cocking his head to the side as he stared into your eyes with his arms crossed.

“Nope.” As if on cue, your stomach growled.

“Mhm.” He mocked, handing you the bowl of strawberries before standing up.

“What are you doing?” You asked, confused as to why he was suddenly up on his feet.

“I’m about to cook you something, little girl.” He rolled his eyes as he walked into the kitchen.

“Yoongiiii-“

“In the mood for pasta? You’ve got all of the ingredients I’d need to make you some alfredo.” You groaned.

“My stomach growls all the time! I’m not hungry, I swear.” He was already pulling out pots and pans from your cupboards as your voice went through one ear and out of the other.

“Suck on those strawberries with those pretty lips of yours while I cook this, hm?” He said, leaning against the kitchen counter with his elbows resting against it.

“I don’t want the straw–”

“I already put the noodles in the pot, so you’re shit out of luck.”

———

Yoongi had been in the kitchen for half an hour while you caught up on your favorite Netflix series.

You should’ve just lied and said yes. He was going through way too much trouble for you.

“Alright,” He began, as he finally left the kitchen.

“Should be good to eat in a few minutes.” He slid back onto the couch.

“Mind if I use your laptop to check my stats? I’m sure they’ve gone up.” He bragged. You playfully rolled your eyes and handed him your laptop, before directing your attention back to your TV.

Yoongi began typing away for a few minutes, until his fingers paused, his eyes grew wide, and he choked on air.

“What? Those stats not what you expected them to be?” You laughed, Yoongi turning his head to look at you before clicking on a tab at the top of the screen and pushing the laptop in your direction.

“What– Oh my God, give me that!” You yelled, Yoongi easily fighting off your efforts to grab the laptop away from him by shoving his arm against your chest.

“Are these your nudes?” He asked, although it was painfully clear that they were.

Yoongi smirked at the way you began to blush profusely.

Holy shit, you were going to die of embarrassment.

‘Play it cool.’ You thought to yourself.

“Yeah? So what if they are?” You used this opportunity to snatch the laptop away from him and close the tab, before shutting the laptop off and setting it on the coffee table where the empty strawberry bowl was.

Yoongi raised an eyebrow, taken aback by your response.

“Clearly you don’t seem to mind.” You smirked, gesturing to the bulge forming in his pants.

He dropped the smirk on his face as he inched closer to you. You reflexively backed away from him.

“You talk pretty big for a virgin, sweetheart.” He growled. Your stomach fell to the bottom of your ass at his words.

You weren’t sure of what to say.

“Uh, I never told—“

“You’d be surprised of what you tell me when you’re drunk.” He reached forward to twirl a strand of your hair around his pointer finger before tucking it behind your ear, as if he had done this to you before.

“Since we’re letting secrets go, you should know that I’ve thought about fucking you plenty of times.” He hummed, as he traced your jawline with his fingers.

“You haven’t got any idea of what thinking about stripping you of your innocence does to me, sweetheart.”

Your chest began to rise and fall rapidly.

“I know that you’d let me, too.” He slowly pushed you backward until your back hit the couch.

“You would let me, wouldn’t you?” He looked into your eyes, waiting for your approval before he took anything further.

You thought about it.

Did you really want to lose your virginity to this sexy drag racer that you’ve grown to become best friends with over the past year?

Hell yes.

“Yes, yes I’d let you.” You stuttered, causing him to groan at your admittance.

He was going to corrupt you more and more day by day before you even realized it.

And fuck, he couldn’t wait.

“Hmm.” He hummed against your skin, as he nudged your head to the side so he could expose the skin of your neck.

He quickly began to suck love bites against the skin, eager to cut straight to the chase in order to get a taste of that perfect cunt that was spread wide in that picture.

“How far have you gone, baby?” He asked, as he tugged your shirt up over your chest and kissed his way around your breasts.

“I–I’ve, fuck,” You moaned, as he sucked one of your nipples into his mouth.

“I’m sorry, you’ve done what?” He mumbled against your hardening bud. You whimpered.

“I-I’ve masturbated with a toy.” Yoongi detached his mouth from your nipple.

“That’s all?” You nodded shyly.

“Fuck, you’re going to be the death of me.” He hungrily kissed down the rest of your body, stopping right above the band of your shorts.

“I’ve got to taste you to get you prepared to take me. Is that alright?” He wasn’t lying. It would help you adjust to his size a bit easier, but it was mostly for his own personal pleasure.

You nodded, and he wasted no time in tugging down your shorts and panties in one swift motion.

“Oh my God.” He nearly whimpered at the sight of your untouched pussy. You began to close your legs as he stared down at your most intimate areas, which prompted him to roughly throw one of your legs over the back of the couch so you were forced to keep yourself spread for him.

“Don’t ever do that again.” He warned. You nodded, murmuring an apology as he laid himself flat against the couch and pulled your hips closer to his face.

He breathed shakily against your core. You began to writhe in his hold as his cool breath hit your exposed pussy lips.

“Are you sure about this, baby? We could stop this at any moment.” He asked for the final time. It made you smile that he continued to ask you if this was really what you wanted.

“I’m sure. Please–oh, shit!” You yelped. Yoongi hadn’t even let you finish your sentence before he had his lips wrapped around your clit.

Your hands hesitantly tangled in his hair, as you were uncertain if he was okay with you touching him or not.

He sensed your hesitation and moaned in approval as you testingly tugged at his blonde locks.

His moan vibrated against your core, causing you to buck your hips up toward his face.

He grunted at this, using one of his arms to pin you down to the couch by your stomach, while his other arm pushed your flailing leg away from his face so he had more access to his meal.

“So good, baby. So fucking good,” He growled into you, his cock growing harder underneath him as more of your juices began to gush onto his face.

You didn’t know how it was possible, but he managed to pull you even closer to him as he licked a long stripe from your dripping hole back up to your clit, before he dipped his tongue inside of your clenching cunt and (quite literally) fucked you with his tongue.

You were a mess above him, your hair matted and stuck to your sweaty forehead as you relished in the feeling of his tongue collecting every drop of your arousal.

“‘M gonna cum, so fucking close, please please–” You begged him with your eyes closed. He took a glance up at you, wanting to watch you come undone on his tongue.

“SHIT!” You screamed, the euphoric bliss of your first orgasm knocking the wind out of you.

Yoongi hummed and pulled his tongue out of you, slipping two of his fingers into his mouth before lining them up with your cunt.

“You with me, babygirl?” He asked. You opened your eyes so you could see him, but you immediately closed them again ad he slid his digits into your wet hole.

“Ughh, oh my fucking God!” You let out a broken moan, tears welling in your eyes from the overstimulation.

“Hey, you’re okay, hm? I need to make sure you’re as comfortable as possible if you’re still willing to take my cock.” His words were caring, although there was a bit of cockiness behind them, almost as if he knew that you still would be in at least some pain from the stretch.

The thought alone excited him.

“Just a little bit more, okay? Hold out for me.” You were about to protest, when he pressed his hand against your lower stomach and began to piston his fingers in and out of you like a machine.

He curled them perfectly against that little spot inside of you that had your eyes rolling toward the back of your head, and your toes curling in pleasure.

Your mouth fell open in a silent scream as you came for the second time within a five minute span.

Yoongi left you to yourself for a moment as he hastily tugged his jeans down, not wanting to waste time to pull them off completely.

He was so eager to have your little cunt pulsing around him.

He fished around in his back pocket for a condom. He was thanking himself mentally for forgetting to take it out the last time he wore those jeans a few weeks ago.

“Could you be a doll and roll this on for me, baby?” He tore the wrapper open with his teeth and quickly tossed it aside as he handed you the slippery thing.

You took it with shaky hands, still not completely over your last two orgasms as you gently grabbed his cock and spread the condom over it.

“Oh, fuck.” He growled, the feeling of your little hand spreading over his throbbing dick enough to make him cum right there.

He desperately needed to be inside of you.

He grabbed his cock and began to rub circles around your clit, the small action making you gasp for air because of how sensitive you already were.

“Think you can still handle me?” You looked up at him. He wasn’t smirking, but you could hear the smirk in his voice.

“Mhm, j-just please, be gentle.” You whimpered, and Yoongi nodded as he lined himself up with your entrance.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

For now.

He pushed just the tip into you, instantly catching your lips with his to prevent any sound of discomfort from leaving your mouth.

“Ready for some more?” He asked sweetly, as he pressed his forehead against yours. You winced, but nodded anyway.

He pushed the rest of his cock into you inch by inch, attempting to nullify the pain a bit by leaving kisses along the side of your neck and jaw.

“You’re taking me so well, ____.” He sat still for a moment, letting you adjust before he rocked his hips slightly.

He looked at you for approval, and when you nodded once he began to set a slow, steady rhythm with the pace of his thrusts.

“‘M not gonna last long, baby. You’re squeezing me so tight, I can barely fit my cock through.” You weren’t sure what it was about the way that he was talking to you, but it just made you clench around him even harder as he began to pick up speed.

“I need you to cum with me, Princess. Can you do that for me?” You nodded eagerly, already on the brink of insanity.

He licked his thumb and brought it down to your clit. You squeaked, and he grunted above you as he tried to ease himself inside of you without hurting you.

“Now, cum now.” He ordered, his arms shaking as he held himself up above you to prevent from collapsing on top of your chest.

You came with your mouth held open in a silent moan, your legs spasming around Yoongi’s waist as he slowly pulled out of you.

The corruption was only beginning.

“Hungry? I’m sure the food is plenty cool now.” You laughed breathlessly at his lame joke, as you covered your face with your hands while trying to catch your breath.

“I’ll go grab some for you, but I’ve got a question for you first.” He paused. “No, wait, two actually.” You glanced at him.

“Go for it.” You said, voice hoarse.

“Would you let me take you out sometime? I mean, on a real date?” You scoffed.

“I thought you were going to ask me to be your girlfriend or something.” You laughed. He scratched the back of his neck sheepishly.

“I was.” You froze.

“I backed out, though.”

“I mean, I would’ve said yes.” He snapped his head toward you.

“You would have?” You nodded, a small smile on your face.

“In that case, will you be my girlfriend, then?” You giggled at his shy demeanor, a complete 180 from how he handled you just a few minutes ago.

“Yes, I will.” He leaned down to peck your cheek.

“My last question...”

“Yeeeees?” You encouraged him to continue.

“Why are your nudes on your laptop anyway?”

“I hate you.”

tag list! let me know if you want to be on it. (you could send me a message, an ask, or just comment under this fic)

@bitchyaus @dontaskshhhhh @taesluttt @1-in-abillion @designjet @peachy-bhun @patpus @koracynthia120 @safi4x @lcnycto @someonewhowannadielol @dreamingsmile @rinastylesworld @fan-ati--c @sincemalik @bts-bay-bee @cestlaviecia @jeonjungkookiiee @bunny-kix03

#blkjmn #bts smut #yoongi smut #yoongi fluff #yoongi x reader #yoongi imagine #yoongi au #min yoongi smut #min yoongi fluff #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi imagine #min yoongi au

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deans-baby-momma · 4 years

Text

Once In A Lifetime

A/N: Well guys. I guess you can say I fell down a rabbit hole....DEEP down a rabbit hole. And I’m going to blame Walker. LOL I’ve always been a Jensen/Dean girl with Jared/Sam curiosity and after a dream I had a few nights ago, THIS happened. Now the dream was only the first part of this story, meeting them in a restaurant but them, while writing it took on a life of it’s own and I am not sorry in the least.

Summary: During your shift as a waitress as a restaurant in Austin, you are surprised to find two of your favorite celebrities in your section. How will that encounter cause you to have a once in a lifetime experience?

W/C: 11,138 words ( I’m not the least bit sorry)

Y/N: Your Name; Y/E/E: Your employment establishment

Warnings: ogling, fantasies, smut, p in v, fingering, v on v, oral (both giving and receiving), fisting, anal play, cum play, dirty talk, slight breeding kink, squirting, daddy kink, mama kink

"Holy shit," I exclaim before clapping my palm over my mouth as there were three adorable children in the vicinity. "Sorry. My name is Y/N and I'll be your server today," I say as I try to calm down. Jared and Genevieve Padalecki were seated in my zone at Y/E/E. "Can I interest you in some appetizers or some coloring pages and crayons for the kids?"

I can't help but glance around at the five of them. They two boys sporting the longer locks like their dad and the little girl, all dolled up with her light brown hair flowing down over her shoulders. They were three of the six most adorable kids in the world; the other three being the Ackles kids but I had yet to see them in person, only on the computer.

“We will take some buffalo cauliflower bites and some mozzarella cheese sticks with marinara,” the loveliest voice I’d ever heard spoke. I look toward Genevieve to see her smiling at me, her brown eyes sparkling.

“And-” I pause to swallow. “-for drinks?”

“Whatever is on tap for Jared, I’ll take a sweet tea with lemon and the kids will have Sprite,” she tells me, the smile on her face unmoving. ‘God she’s gorgeous,’ I think to myself as I write down the orders. ‘Jared is one lucky son of a bitch.’

I grin as I tell them I will be right back with their drinks and head toward the server area. I throw my pad down on the counter and lean against it, my palms flat against the granite. How the fuck am I going to get through serving them? I have had a crush on Genevieve since I watched Wildfire a few years ago. And then when I caught an episode of Supernatural and got a glimpse of Jared, I was in lust, for both of them.

And now I had to cater to and serve them while being professional and less of a crazy fan. Yea that isn’t going to happen. I know myself too well. I’m going to do or say something that will absolutely humiliate myself in front of the two celebrities I have adored for years.

Thanks to some tactical breathing exercises while waiting on their food and an internal pep talk, I got through serving the Padalecki family and when they asked for the bill I was a bit saddened that their visit was coming to an end. I knew I’d probably never see them again.

As I printed out their receipt I lamented the fact that the one time I met anyone famous it was at work and I couldn’t ask for an autograph or photo with them. I smiled as I gave them the sales slip and walked away.

From my post behind the server’s desk I watched as the five of them got up and walked toward the door. Genevieve looked my way and smiled and waved as they left. I returned the gesture and giggled.

After making sure the coast was clear, I approached their table to collect the payment and take it to the register. What I wasn’t expecting with the cash, was a handwritten note with a phone number on it.

‘Y/N your service was magnificent. Here’s a little tip for you and a bigger one awaits, if you are interested. (xxx)xxx-xxxx. ~Gen’

Did she really expect me to call her? Was this even her real number? What kind of tip is she referring to anyway? I look at the money in my hand to see that they have paid almost $50 more than their bill! What bigger tip than that could it be?!

I waited until my shift was over and I was in the comfort of my own vehicle before I pulled the piece of paper with the number out of my apron.

Opening the text app with shaky fingers, I typed out the response I had thought of all evening.

Hey. Is this Genevieve Padalecki? It's Y/N from Y/E/E. I was your waitress earlier.

Almost immediately my phone pings and I see that whomever I texted had responded.

Hey Y/N. Yes, it's me. Glad to see you found my note.

Yea, I did. What I can't figure out is why you left it. Did I do something wrong?

Oh sweetie no! You were the perfect hostess. Sweet, friendly, easy on the eyes ;)

Whoa, was this married woman flirting with me? This famous married woman who had an attractive, sexy, famous as well husband.

Uh, thanks.

You caught not only my eye but Jare's as well. We'd like to get to know you better. Have you already gotten off? From work, I mean. Ha!

Ok, if that isn't flirting then I don't know what is. That was definitely an innuendo, right?

Yes. I'm sitting in my car.

Wanna come over? The kids are in bed. Us adults can talk without interruptions.

Uh, okay. I'm gonna kinda need your address. I might be a fan but I'm not that kind of fan.

Gen sends me her address, along with the code to get into the gate. I realize they live in the gated community about 45 minutes away.

I look in the rearview and notice my hair is frizzy and half of it has fallen out of the ponytail it was in. I really didn't want to show up on their doorstep looking like a charity case but then again was I going to pass up the opportunity to get to know two of my favorite celebrities?

If you aren't interested we completely understand.

Gen's message breaks me out of my reverie and I look at it, deciding what the hell.

On my way now.

We can't wait to see you again Y/N!

I place my phone in the cupholder and start the car up, still in shock that I'm headed to the personal home of Jared and Genevieve Padalecki.

What universe am I in?!

I get to their house and Genevieve meets me at the door.

"Hey Y/N," she greets me with a smile. "Did you have any trouble getting in the gate?"

"No, it opened right up as soon as I punched in the code."

Gen is dressed down for the evening. Well, as dressed down as I'm sure famous rich people can be. She is wearing velour sweat shorts, probably some name brand designer and her t-shirt has the Family Business Brewery logo and name printed on it.

And here I look like a slob who can't care for herself. I so do not belong here.

"Come on in," Genevieve continues as she opens the door wide. "Jared is in the kitchen making us ladies some drinks."

"Uh, I don't know. I mean, I still have to drive home later."

"Or you could stay," she says as she takes my hand and stands right in front of me. Genevieve is just a couple inches taller than I am so we are practically face to face.

"Oh."

That's all I can say. It is glaringly obvious now what this visit is. And if I said I wasn't down for it I'd be lying!

Gen smiles as she takes her free hand and reaches behind me, pulling the tie from my hair. I feel the weight of it fall to my shoulders.

"That's better," she says then turns and pulls me further into the house.

We get to the kitchen and Jared is standing there, dressed down also in a pair of running shorts and a t-shirt. I can't stop myself as my eyes run down the length of his body.

The t-shirt doesn't do much to hide the breath of his shoulders or the bulk of his pecs, the arms of the fabric stretched tight over his biceps. As my eyes wander lower, I realize that all the rumors I'd heard about the heft and length of his 'conda were not exaggerated as I can definitely see the outline of it behind the silky material of his shorts. But what really draws my attention is the definition of his calf muscles; even relaxed they distend from his legs, the skin taut over them.

"Hey. You made it," his voice brings my attention back to his face. "I'm Jared."

"I know," I say sincerely, internally wincing at how nervous I sound. I smile to hide the uneasiness.

"Yea, I kinda figured that out at Y/E/E by your reaction," he chuckles as he hands a glass to his wife. "Gen wanted a margarita but we have some craft beer in the fridge if that is more your taste. It's really good. Our friends, Jensen and Dee, own a brewery."

"Family Business," I state with a nod. "I've wanted to go check it out but haven't had a chance, yet."

"Well, maybe we can get you a private tour sometime," he tells me with a wink. "Now, name your poison."

I settle for a Cosmic Cowboy, Jared grabs a Grackle for himself and the three of us make our way to the living room.

Their house is magnificent. There are logs, de-barked, as beams across the ceiling and even the staircase is made of the same type of wood. I'd seen it in a family picture on the internet but never in my wildest dreams did I ever think I'd be inside this home to appreciate the beauty of it.

The Padalecki's and I talk for what seems like hours. We all seem to have so much in common. Eventually I had traded the beer for one of Jared's famous margaritas, thanks to Gen's suggestion and before I knew it I was on my third one and not feeling any pain.

A smile was glued to my face and I couldn't stop giggling. I was drinking with Jared and Genevieve Padalecki! Who would have ever thought that.

Jared takes the almost empty glass from my hand and laughs at the pout I give him.

"Ok lush," he says with his own deep giggle. "If you get too drunk we can't talk about what we invited you here for."

In my inebriated state, I say words I never in a million years thought I would ever utter. "You want to fuck me."

Jared looks surprised and glances at Genevieve, which causes me to look at her as I realize what I just said.

Can you go from intoxicated to sober in less than 5 seconds? Because I just did!

"Oh my god!" I exclaim. "I'm so sorry. I have no filter when I've been drinking."

I start to fidget and prepare to be thrown out of their house. I am taken aback when Gen smiles and says, "Yes we do."

There is a trail of clothing from the top of the staircase down the hall to where we are now. My body is being held up against the wall as Jared devours my mouth, Gen's lips on my neck and shoulder.

"You are so fucking sexy," she whispers and I whimper into her husband's mouth. "You caught my eye as soon as we walked into Y/E/E this evening. I knew I wanted you and Jared agreed."

"Let's take this into the bedroom," Jared murmurs against my lips and hoists me up by the back of my thighs, urging me to wrap my legs around his waist.

He carries me into the room with Genevieve following closely behind. He lays me back on the bed and hovers over me, his body pressed tightly to mine. I can feel his erection digging into my lower stomach.

"Jared," Gen calls in a sultry, seductive voice. "Share."

Jared pushes up off of me and Gen steps between my open knees. "Let's get these panties off of you," she says and I notice that she has already removed hers plus her bra and is standing at the edge of the bed in all her naked glory.

To say Genevieve Padalecki was beautiful would be an understatement but her nude? Well it just amped up the sexiness by a bajillion. She has no hair on her pussy, shaved (or waxed) clean. Her tits are perfect handfuls with pretty little rosy pink nipples that are erect and hardened.

She has pulled her soft brown hair up into a makeshift bun and I watch as she reaches forward, her dainty fingers curling into the hem of my plain panties. Thank god I took the time before work to landscape!

She gasps as my equally shaven cunt is exposed as she pulls the garment down my legs and off my feet.

"Such a pretty little pussy huh Jared?"

Jared comes back into my line of vision and he smiles at me before his eyes trail down to look at my bare body.

"So pretty," he says breathlessly as his hands come up and around his wife, his big hands covering her tits. "Bet it tastes so good. You gonna let Gen eat you out Y/N? Let her taste that sweet box."

I nod and he tsks. "Words Y/N. Use your words little kitten."

I swallow audibly and speak. "Yes. I want Gen to eat my pussy."

Gen smiles as she turns her head and kisses Jared passionately. After a few seconds though he pulls away, and pushes her closer to me. "Get to licking, baby while I open you up."

Gen bends down and I feel her hands on the inside of my thighs close to my center. The first touch of her tongue against my folds has me moaning like a porn star. She doesn't even breach my slit, just licks up the middle and then sucks on my outer lips.

She moans and I look to see Jared has disappeared, on his knees behind her eating her out as she does the same to me. I can already feel the coil deep inside constricting. This is the most erotic sexual experience I have ever or will ever have!

When Gen does finally lick me open, she immediately wraps her lips around my clit suckling and flicking the tip with her soft tongue. I feel a finger stroking around my entrance before it enters me.

"Mmmmm," Gen moans and I open my eyes that I didn't even realize were closed. Jared is back in my line of sight, looking down as he notches his cock at her entrance.

He then places his hands on her hips and drives himself forward, burying inside his wife. Gen moans against my skin and I feel that coil tightening. I don't want to cum just yet so I brace against it, holding my release back.

With Jared's deep hard thrusts Gen's body bounces forward pushing her face closer into my pussy. She trades her finger inside me with her tongue and her thumb is rubbing circles around my clit as she licks my fluttering walls.

My orgasm is bearing down and I'm beginning to fear I won't be able to hold it back.

Jared is grunting and groaning behind her, his eyes fixate on his wife's task of fingering me and licking my clit and labia.

There is so much pressure between my legs I have to bite my lip to contain the scream that is begging to be released.

"Holy fuck!" Gen exclaims, pulling my attention to her. "Look babe. I have my whole hand inside her."

Jared's eyes travel to the spot and they widen as they take in the view. "Fuck! That is so goddamned hot."

Gen begins a soft thrust with her arm, twisting her wrist and letting her fingers hit my sweet spot. I see stars as I yell out. "I'm gonna cum!"

"Go on Y/N. Cum all over Gen. She wants it."

I let go and the pressure lessens as I feel my walls constrict and liquid squirts out around Gen's hand.

"God that was hot!" They both exclaim simultaneously and laugh. Gen bends down and begins licking and suckling at my cunt as Jared continues his hard pace.

He slaps her ass twice and then stills, groaning as I'm sure he is shooting his load inside her. Gen places her forehead on my inner thigh, catching her breath as Jared pulls out and looks down with a smile.

"Baby you are leaking so much cum it's dripping on the floor."

When Gen moves out of the way, I get my first look at Jared's massive dick. And when I say massive, I mean massive. Not only is it ginormous in length but the girth is unbelievable. How does he keep something that size hidden so well?

His hand is around the still-hard member and he looks at me as he fists up and down. "You ready?"

"Yes," I tell him confidently although inside I am not.

Gen has left the room, gone into their ensuite to clean up I'm sure. "Should we wait?" I ask hesitantly.

"Nah, she knows I plan to fuck your brains out. She'll rejoin shortly."

“Okay,” I say with a nod and watch as Jared climbs onto the bed, walking on his knees to place himself between my legs. He is still fisting his cock, the mixture of his and his wife’s release lubricating the movement.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks tentatively and I look up at him. He has one palm on the mattress beside my head and is hovering over me, but not touching.

I nod and then with a quirk of his eyebrow I remember his request, to use words. “Yes. Please kiss me Jared.”

Jared leans down and brushes his lips against mine softly but firmly. When his tongue touches the seam of my mouth, I open for him allowing him to lick into me. The kiss quickly becomes deeper, more passionate. My hands automatically reach up and my fingers entwine in the long locks on his head, pulling him closer.

Losing his balance, Jared falls on top of me, his hand that was holding him up, cupping the side of my face as we both get lost in the kiss. I can feel his moist, damp dick on my stomach and it causes me to writhe. God, I so desperately want that monster inside me!

The bed dips with Gen’s return and her hands run over the part of my skin that is visible under Jared’s large form.

“You two look so fucking hot together,” she whispers as she kisses along my neck. “Y/N, you going to let Jared fuck you? Feel that big dick of his filling up that perfect little pussy?”

I can’t answer her because Jared is still kissing me senseless so I whimper and dig my fingers into his scalp. Her words are music to my ears, the assurance and suggestion of what all he is planning to do to me all the encouragement I need. She is okay with me fucking Jared; she is actually urging it. I pull away, opening my eyes to see his hazel ones, lidded and filled with lust.

“Fuck me Jared,” I say and he smiles as he lifts himself and grabs his dick, notching it at my entrance.

“Ready baby?”

I nod and smile before saying, “More than ready.”

The stretch of my walls around his dick is a pleasured pain. It feels so good as he keeps sliding deeper in until it feels as if his tip is going to puncture through my cervix. I look down between us to see that he is to the root inside me and it makes me wetter, if that’s even possible.

Gen pinches my chin between her thumb and fingers and turns my head to look at her. “Y/N, Jared is going to fuck you like you’ve never been fucked before. Are you ready?”

“Yes,” I answer breathlessly.

Gen claims my lips with her own as Jared slowly and torturously pulls out until just the head of his dick is inside me. I feel his hands grip my hips and then he plunges into me in one swift movement. I can’t help but cry into her mouth as he sits the same fast hard pace as he had with her, his dick stretching my pussy and digging in deep.

I pull away from Gen’s mouth to yell. “HOLY SHIT! OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD!”

“Yea, you like that don’t ya?” Jared pants as he keeps thrusting into my willing body. “You like being impaled on my big dick huh?”

“Yes! Yes! YES!”

Gen reaches between us and uses her fingertip to rub circles on my clit, making that coil deep inside me tighten. I am going to be cumming any minute now, I know it. I can’t hold it back even if I tried.

“You going to let Jared fill you up. Pump you full of his cum until you’re leaking like I was? Yea, you are, aren’t you? You want to feel him throbbing and shooting his load into your womb.”

Her words make my eyes roll into the back of my head and I scream as I feel my climax bearing down. Without any more prompting from either of them, I once again feel that pressure from earlier and before I know it I am squirting out around Jared’s dick, my release splashing against his thighs.

“Fuck!” he exclaims as he ramps up his efforts and suddenly I feel the warmth of his cum and the throb of his length as he empties inside me, his grunts and groans barely heard over the blood pumping through my ears.

Jared claims my mouth again, his cock still buried deep in my pussy as it softens.

I just fucked this man while his wife watched, after having her way with me. Whose life is this?!

My eyes slowly open as I come to consciousness. I am hot, sweaty and uncomfortable and the need to pee is overwhelming. I go to roll over but am met with resistance, from both behind and in front of me. What the hell?

I fully open my eyes and take in the view. That is not my ceiling and this is not my bed. My mattress has never been this soft, even when it was new. I look down and see the ivory sheets and the maroon comforter and it all comes back to me.

I fucked Jared AND Genevieve Padalecki! I am in their bed, in their house snuggled up between them. I had sex with a married couple; not once, not twice but three times they fucked the daylights out of me. And I enjoyed every second of it.

I squirm as I feel something moving inside me, slowly making its way out of my body and sigh when I feel a clump of Jared’s cum slide out and down my ass, landing on the sheet under me. God, he cummed so hard and so much last night, filling both me and Gen up.

And as good as it felt, it tasted even better. Especially out of Gen’s pussy. I had licked it right up as it poured out of her hole and onto my lips and tongue and she reciprocated before we teamed up and took turns swallowing him down, his palms cupping the back of our heads as we knelt in front of him, licking and sucking his cock.

My bladder takes me out of my reminiscence as the urge to piss becomes palpable and I wiggle and shift until I am out from under Jared’s arm and go to crawl over Gen’s sleeping form, unintentionally waking her.

“Hey sweetie. Where are you going?” she asks sleepily and the torpor in her voice is sexy and sensuous.

“I gotta pee,” I tell her and she smiles before lifting her head to kiss me.

“Ok baby. Hurry back.”

I walk into the ensuite and quickly sit on the toilet to do my business, still reeling from the events of last night. How the hell did I end up here? And how am I going to recover from having my dreams come true? How am I supposed to go back to my normal, boring existence after such an experience?

As I finish up and wash my hands, I decide that I’m going to leave while the leaving is good. What if they regret it? What if it wasn’t what they expected? What if I was just a first choice when they decided to have a threesome? Too many what if’s and not enough answers for my taste.

I tiptoe back into their room and grab my panties from the floor, pulling them on when I realize the rest of my clothing is thrown throughout the hallway. Shit! If the kids were up and strolling around the house they would see the waitress from the restaurant in their house half naked.

“Y/N?” Gen’s voice causes me to turn my head to see her up on one elbow looking at me confused. “You’re not leaving, are you?”

“Y-yea. I think that would be best, don’t you?”

“Hell no. Get your perky little ass back in the bed,” she said authoritatively. “And take off those panties. I want to be able to touch you and caress you.”

I do as she says and she scoots closer to her husband as she pats the mattress in front of her. I climb in beside her and she promptly pulls me to her, her hand cupping my sex as she kisses along my ear. She whispers, “I’m never going to get tired of this pretty little pussy,” as she begins drawing circles on my clit and running her fingers down my folds. "Could eat it everyday and never get enough.”

I whimper at her words and she smiles against my skin. “You’d like that wouldn’t you? Me eating you out everyday, fucking you with my tongue, my fingers, my fist. Shit, I’m getting wet just thinking about it.”

Her fingers tease my opening before two of them slide inside, curling up to hit that sweet spot. My back arches off the bed as I moan. “Yea, you like that don’t you. You like me fingering you.” She scissors her digits open and closed as we both groan at the slick that has accumulated.

“Cum baby,” she urges. “Come on Mama’s hand.”

My climax comes out of nowhere as Gen sits up, propping her body with her free hand as he other works me furiously through my release. I watch her with bated breath as she removes her hand and licks her fingers clean. “Mmm, tasty.”

When she is done, she leans down and kisses me, her tongue prodding into my open lips, letting me taste the sweetness of my tang on it. I run my fingers through her hair, fisting them.

“Jesus, what a sight to wake up to,” we hear Jared’s groggy voice and pull apart, looking at him. His hazel eyes are sparkling and there is a smug grin on his lips. “I could get used to this.” Gen turns and kisses him just as passionately as we had just kissed and I hear Jared groan, knowing he is tasting the remnants of my release.

Ok, so maybe this wasn’t something they regretted. This was what they both wanted and still want and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want it too. Maybe I had been the first opportunity they’d come across when they decided to have a threesome but I’m not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. I would gladly take whatever they wanted to give.

And from the sounds and sights coming from the bed beside me, I was about to have another out of this world sexual escapade with two of the hottest people on the planet.

I’m sitting in the kitchen at the bar in my panties and a t-shirt Gen gave me drinking a cup of coffee and watching Jared move about the kitchen, cooking eggs and making toast.

A pair of slender arms wrap around me from behind, startling me. “Morning baby,” Gen purrs as she kisses my shoulder.

I tense up afraid of getting caught if one of their kids walk in. “Uh, where’re the kids?”

“It’s Wednesday. They always have a playdate with the Ackles kids on Wednesday,” Gen says as she comes around and sits beside me. “We’re good. Francine took them over and will bring them back this afternoon.”

“Oh. Okay,” I say hesitantly. I’m relieved that I don’t have to worry about being found out but I’m also nervous because the three of us are alone in the house. What exactly did they have planned?

“It’s okay sweetheart,” Jared says as he sits two plates of eggs, toast and jam in front of his wife and myself. “We all need to talk anyway. And the kids do not need to hear what we have to discuss.”

Well, there goes my good feeling down the drain. Now is when they are going to drop the bomb; tell me that it was all fun and games but they’ve satisfied their curiosity and I’m on my own. God, how can I be so dumb. What made me think that two celebrities would want me to stick around?

I push the food around on my plate as I try to come up with a way to take the blow and leave with my head held high.

“Jared Tristan,” Gen admonishes. “Look what you’ve done. You went and made her feel bad. Honey,” she says as she places a hand on mine. “It’s not bad; what we want to talk about. I promise.” She leans over and places a chaste kiss to my lips. “Now eat up so we can get to it. I think you might need your energy if I’m reading this situation correctly.”

I try my best to eat as much of the food as I can with my stomach still in knots and my anxiety level through the roof. Gen clears her plate and then looks at me, silently asking if I’m finished. I nod and clear my throat. “Yes, thank you.”

Jared grabs my hand and pulls me off the stool, dragging me toward the living room once again. Last night, this is the same exact place that they propositioned me and invited me into their bed. Now, here we are again, apparently discussing something new.

I wait with bated breath as Gen makes her way into the room, carrying her and my coffee cups, sitting mine on the table in front of me.

“First off,” she begins as she turns to look at me, one leg under her bottom. “Did you enjoy it?”

“Wh-what?” I ask in shock. Was she actually asking if I enjoyed having sex with them?

“Did you have a good time? With us?”

“Duh,” I answer cringing at my snarkiness. “Yes, I enjoyed it and I had an amazing time. And I understand if this was a one-off; something you wanted out of your systems. I get it. And I promise not to speak a word of it to anyone.”

Jared chuckles and Gen throws her head back, laughing. “Oh honey. I don’t care about that. Hell, scream it from the rooftops for all I care. We want to know if you’d like to continue.”

To say I am floored is an understatement. They are actually asking if I want to keep having sex with them? Have I died and gone to Heaven?

“Really?” I gasp. I never in a million years would have ever thought this was what we needed to discuss.

“Yes, really,” Jared tells me from the armchair. “We understand if it is too much. We, uh-” he pauses to rub the back of his neck and chuckle. “-got a little enthusiastic last night. It’s usually not that acrobatic. But yea, we want to know if you want to keep this going.”

I nod as my brows furrow and I look down at my hands, my fingers fidgeting with the hem of Gen’s shirt. How can I answer without sounding too enthusiastic or overly eager?

“Sweetie?” Gen asks, leaning down to look into my eyes. “Are you okay? Is it too much?”

The worry in her voice is what gets me. Is she actually afraid I am going to turn them down? But I have to know something first.

“Can I ask a question?”

“Sure.”

“Why me? I mean, was I just the first girl you came across once you decided to have a threesome?”

Gen and Jared both chuckle. “No baby,” Gen assures me. “This isn’t our first time doing this. We’ve had threesomes before. We, uh- should we tell her Jare?”

“She’ll find out eventually,” he answers his wife. “Go on.”

“We had a relationship with Jared’s co-star Jensen for a few months. It went really well but then we decided to end it, amicably before we all got married. He was dating Danneel but she was living in LA while he was up in Vancouver with us. And well, we fucked. Not Jare and Jen, they just uh, shared me. Although they did get close to kissing once in a competition to see who could get me off first by eating me out simultaneously.” She ends with a laugh and I look over to see Jared blushing.

“Now, that...that cannot and should not be repeated,” he says, clearing his throat. “We just got too close and our tongues touched that’s all.” He explained my unanswered inquiry.

“So, this isn’t your first time having a threesome with another guy?” I ask. “But is it a first with another girl?”

“Yes,” they both answer resolutely. “You are our first female conquest.” Gen finishes before she laces her fingers with mine. “When I saw you yesterday at Y/E/E, I liked you immediately. Even though I could tell you knew who we were you kept it professional and when I asked Jared what he thought about you, I could tell by the way he looked at you he wanted you. We both did. That’s why I left my number. Figured it’d be safer to leave mine than his in case someone else found the note.”

“It’s in my car,” I smiled at her. “I wasn’t about to throw it away.”

“See, you knew. You might have not realized you knew, but you knew me leaving you my number was a big risk.”

“So?” Jared asks as both Gen and I turn to look at him. “Is this something you can see continuing?”

“Absolutely!” I answer confidently and certain. “I will be the third wheel for you guys.”

“Oh honey, in this relationship, we are all equals,” Gen says as she smoothes her hand over my hair. “Now, let’s talk about the rules.”

The 'rules' as I soon discover aren't really rules at all. Mostly we discuss what kind of things are turn-ons and what are turn-offs.

I find out that Gen loves oral, receiving and giving, whether it be male or female. She requests to be called Mama in the bedroom and is unopposed to anal play.

Jared's turn-ons include oral as well, he loves to maintain dominance over his lovers and inquired as to whether I am opposed to that aspect. I tell him an unwaveringly no. I will submit and comply with his control.

When asked what I prefer, I shrug my shoulders. I'd never given it much thought. Sure, I'd had partners before; I wasn't a virgin by any means but to actually sit and think and come up with stuff I liked and didn't like was new to me.

"Okay," Gen says, aware of my discomfort. "Well, we know you like oral, both giving and receiving it. And you like fucking, we are very well aware of that." She continues with a smile. "Are there any positions you're more fond of than others?"

"Uh, I like doggy style," I say, feeling my cheeks heat up. Good god, I've had sex with these people and I'm getting embarrassed!

"Hey now. None of that," Gen coos. "This is a judgment free zone."

I nod, feeling more confident. "I like it when, uh...when you pulled my hair while I was eating you out. And," I turn to look at Jared. "I liked when you spanked her while fucking into her. That was hot, but not like you know, hard or a lot of smacks but...yea."

He smiles at me and nods. "Good to know kitten."

"Anything else?" Gen presses.

"Uh, nothing I can think of right now. No, but permission to revisit this if I do think of something?"

"Of course sweetie."

"One last thing," Jared announces and I turn to look at him. "Move in with us?"

When the kids come in later with their nanny, they stop in their tracks when they see me sitting on the couch with their parents, platonically of course.

The two older ones, Tom and Shep, recognize me and ask their mom why the lady from the restaurant is here while the little girl, Odette, climbs onto Jared's lap and burrows into his chest, peeking out and glancing at me.

"This is our friend. Her name is Y/N and she's going to be staying with us," Gen eases the information to the boys.

The middle child, Shep, is the first one to speak. "Does she like dinosaurs?"

Gen looks at me with joy and laughter in her eyes. I smile and tell Shep, "Dinosaurs are magnificent! My favorite is the pterodactyl. What's yours?"

The discussion between the boys and I quickly turns to which dinosaur would win if they were all in a battle to which dinosaur could survive if they were to come back alive and be in the world as it is today.

Odette finally warms up and makes her way to my side, telling me that Mommy dinosaurs have to wear makeup while Daddy dinosaurs go to work.

I had been terrified of how the kids would accept the fact that I was going to be living with them but I had nothing to worry about.

Kids are resilient though. They can adapt and adjust to just about anything. The three Padalecki kids have no problem knowing there is a new person living in their home but I also know the real talk is going to come after dinner and after Francine leaves for the evening.

Gen and I work together that night, getting the dinner dishes cleaned off and stacked in the dishwasher. Every so often, Gen would glance around and then pull me into a kiss, keeping it mostly innocent and chaste. The only thing not innocent is when her hands would roam and grab a boob or my ass or one time she ran her hand down my crotch, pressing on my clit.

Once the kitchen is cleared, the two of us join Jared and the kids in their playroom where we decide to tell them what is actually going on.

Tom and Shep were sitting on the floor playing with toy cars, making engine noises while Odette sat on her dad's lap, coloring.

"Guys," Gen speaks, getting the boys' attention. "Can you come over here for a moment. Family meeting."

Tom and Shep get up and walk to the table and stand, looking between the three adults in the room.

"Okay, you know how we have taught you all that honesty is always best? And that lying will only get you into more trouble?"

"Yes ma'am," they say in unison.

"Okay. Well your dad and I are going to be honest with you. Y/N is not only our friend, she is our girlfriend. We like her like we like each other; like Unkie Jensen likes Auntie D. And she likes us.

"You will see us-both of us- hug Y/N and kiss her just like we do each other. If you have a bad dream at night and come to our room she is going to be in bed with us. But we will always, always make room for you. You three are our littlest loves and there isn't anything in this world we wouldn't do for you.

"Also, Y/N is the boss as much as your dad and I are so whatever she says goes. If she tells you it's time for bed you don't try to haggle your way out of it. If she tells you you've had enough candy, you listen. She is the adult, you are not. You understand?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Okay. Do you have any questions?"

They shake their heads no and Gen smiles as she reaches out to ruffle Shep's hair and then Tom's.

"You can go play for another hour and then it's time for baths and bed."

The boys go back to their spots and continue their game.

"Well that went better than I was expecting," I say with a laugh.

"Our boys are smart," Jared says with an air of pride.

Odette looks up at him with a scoff, which causes both Gen and I to laugh.

"You're smart too lil O," he tells her before placing a kiss on her temple.

When it's time for baths, Tom asks that I help him so I follow him to his room where he picks out a set of pajamas and underwear. We walk down the hall to the bath and he undresses as I begin filling the tub.

"Y/N?" Tom says as he washes his hair.

"Yea?"

"Do you love us?"

"What do you mean?" I ask, trying to keep my voice even. This was not a question I was expecting from a 7 year old.

"Mommy said that you like them like they like each other. And I know mommy and daddy love each other and they love us just like Unkie Jen loves Auntie D and JJ and Arry and Zeppy. So do you love us too?"

I'm not sure how to answer his inquiry. Do I love him and his siblings? Sure, what's not to love about three of the best behaved kids I have ever encountered.

They took their Mom's news in stride, like it was no big deal that both their parents had a girlfriend, like it was normal.

"Yes, Tom. I love you and Shep and lil O. How could I not? You three are awesome," I laugh trying to break the tension. "Plus we can talk about dinosaurs without people giving us weird looks."

"Do you love Mommy and Daddy too?"

Well, there it is. The one question I was hoping to avoid because I didn't have an answer. I don't know the answer.

Do I love Jared and Genevieve? I know I've lusted after them both for years and the three of us have had the most remarkable, memorable sex of my existence, but love? Wasn't it too soon?

"I think it is time to finish your bath before you turn wrinkly like a raisin," I tell him instead.

It is only a few weeks later that those three words are shared between us.

As we are readying for bed, Gen and I doing a skincare routine in front of the bathroom mirror Jared waltz in and lifts the toilet seat, not caring to relieve himself while we are in the room.

After he finishes and he rights himself, he wiggles between us to wash his hands. We both laugh at his antics and while drying his hands he kisses Gen, telling her he loves her and then turns to kiss me.

"I love you too," he whispers against my lips and my eyes widen at his proclamation.

The whole world stills, the Earth quits spinning and the air stops flowing as he presses his lips to mine again.

"Y/N?" Gen calls to me and everything begins moving again. "Are you okay sweetie?"

"Uh." That's the only thing I can utter. Jared just told me he loves me. He just dropped those three precious words like it was nothing.

"Do you not love me? Us?" Jared asks as he pulls away and looks down at me.

My eyes well up with tears and I can't stop my body shaking if I wanted to.

"Yes," I answer with a laugh. "I love you so much!"

Jared wraps me up in a kiss again, deepening it as he bends me backwards. We pull away with smiles.

"I love you. I love you. I love you," I say repeatedly.

"I love you Y/N," Gen proclaims as she pulls me into a hug before kissing me senseless.

That night we don't fuck. The three of us make love to one another, proclaiming our love and devotion to one another over and over until we each find our climaxes together, as one.

On Friday we decide it is time to visit the Family Business Brewery to stock up on some more beer since the supply at home is getting low.

I'm nervous as hell as today I get to meet Jared and Gen's best friends and former lover. Jensen and Daneel and the kids have been away, up in the north visiting family and now they are back and the plan is to hang out at FBB to let the kids play on their playground.

The Ackles know that Jared and Gen have someone they want them to meet but as I find out on the way there, they have no idea just what I am to the Padalecki's. They just think it's a new friend.

As we pull up, the parking lot is half-full with vehicles and people milling about ready to go inside and sample some the craft beer that is brewed onsite.

I look toward the building and immediately can make out Jensen's silhouette. Probably because of the crowd that has amassed around him. Being one of the main characters on the country's hit sci-fi show and part owner of this place drew a bigger crowd to the brewery than the alcohol did apparently.

I notice that over half of the guests have some type of Supernatural paraphernalia, be it a t-shirt, a purse, or just a photo or something they hoped to get autographed.

The crowd finally disperses and Jensen finally makes his way to us, a smile on his face and a beer glass in his hand.

"Hey guys. Glad you could make it. Dee is inside helping Gino run the bar since we are down a person," he explains and then his eyes narrow in on me. "Hello. I'm Jensen."

"Y/N," I say with a nod.

"Jay, this is our girlfriend." Gen tells him and I watch for his reaction. He is one hell of an actor because other than a quick widening of his green eyes, he fixes his face into one of nonchalance.

"So, you're still…..doing that?" he asks lowly before taking a drink of his beer.

"We hadn't for a while," Jared speaks up. "Since you but yea, we now share a girlfriend."

"Nice," Jensen smiles but I can tell it's not a happy-for-you one; it's more forced, more strained.

Daneel finally comes out to join us and Gen introduces me much the same way she announced me to Jensen.

"Oh wow!" Daneel exclaims. "I, uh, didn't know you two were into that sort of thing."

So apparently she had no idea that a few years ago, Jensen had been in my position. Good to know as now I can be more aware of what to say and what to keep to myself.

The day is nice in the grove where the brewery is located. The heat from the sun is abated by the gentle breeze that flows through the trees.

Jared and Jensen, and sometimes Gen get pulled away a few times by excited fans asking for pictures of just to chat, leaving Daneel and I watching the kids.

I can tell she is dying to ask questions so once there is no one close by, I turn to her and tell her. "You can ask."

"Oh thank god! It's been killing me. How does it work? Do you all sleep together? Have sex together?"

I smile at her questions. And with living with the Padalecki's I have come to also believe the truth is better than lying philosophy.

"We love one another and we work together raising the three most amazing kids I've ever met. Well, until now; the Ackles kids are pretty fantastic." I pause to smile at her. "Yes, we share a bed each night. Sometimes I'm in the middle, sometimes Gen. It just depends on who needs the assurance and safety net the most.

"And yes we have sex together. As with the sleeping arrangement, we take turns on who is between the other two. Sometimes Jared fucks Gen while she eats me out and sometimes I eat her out while being whaled on by the big moose."

Daneel throws her hands up and shakes her head. "Okay. Okay. I'm sorry I asked. That was a visual I did not need. And now it's stuck in my head."

She storms off and I can't help but laugh at her reaction. I mean, she asked after all. I just hope I didn't ruin her friendship with my lovers.

Later that night, when I tell Jared and Gen about it they laugh and assure me that it's nothing Daneel won't get over; that she just probably will never ask me anything ever again.

Over the next few months, I learn just how close the Padalecki's and the Ackles' are as we tend to spend every holiday together and attend each other's kid's birthday parties.

Daneel continues to be cordial to me but doesn't inquire any further into my relationship with Gen and Jared.

That may also be because after paparazzi got a photo of Gen and I at the store holding hands and ran with the story that Gen and Jared were obviously on the splits, the three of us sat down to an interview with People magazine and told the world that the Padalecki's marriage and relationship was still going strong and made it known that they were also in a relationship with me.

After that, the buzz of it all settled down and everything went back to semi-normal. There would be some gossip on the internet about us or we'd received unmarked mail containing threats of damnation but, with the help of my girlfriend and boyfriend, I learned to let it all slide.

People would always have their opinions. I just had to get used to them being different than my own. The world wasn't going to stop turning just because I was in a relationship with a married couple.

A year to the day that Jared and Gen had entered my life when they visited Y/E/E found us all in the kitchen; Jared and Gen sitting at the counter while I cooked us an anniversary dinner.

"Can you believe it's been a year?" Gen says as I pull the roasted chicken from the oven. "One year since we decided to go out to eat and run into the most beautiful human we've ever seen."

"A year since you left your number on a piece of paper before we left and waited patiently for her to call," Jared continues. "One whole year of the most magnificent mind-blowing sex of my life!"

"A year since I thought you leaving your number was a prank or a mistake but texted it anyway. A year of….hell, the best year of my existence, " I tell them as I plate up the chicken, pasta and asparagus before turning and placing their plates in front of them.

"I love you both so much."

"We love you equally," Gen says before we set about eating the dinner I cooked.

The kids were staying over at the Ackles' so we had the house to ourselves.

Jared cleared the kitchen after dinner and dessert while Gen and I went up to the bedroom to get ready in our matching lingerie that we purchased special for the occasion.

"Jared is going to flip when he sees us," Gen says as she comes up behind me in the mirror. "Fuck, are we lucky. Sweetie you are absolutely gorgeous. I can't wait to pull this off of you," she says kisses my shoulder, grazing her teeth across my skin. "With my teeth."

I shudder at the thought and reach back tangling my hand in her hair, kissing her passionately.

"Same goes for you darling," I tell her as we hear Jared coming up the stairs.

Gen and I rush to get on the bed, laying back in nothing but lace and silk waiting for Jared to enter the bedroom.

"Fuck. Me!" he exclaims as he walks in and sees us. "God damn, baby girls, you're going to give this ole man a heart attack," he says, removing his shirt and unbuttoning his jeans.

As we both promised, we put a show on for Jared; disrobing one another with nothing but our teeth and lips.

Gen finally squirts after I bury my face in her sweet cunt, licking all around with my fingers knuckle deep inside her. Her breathing is labored as I pull away, leaving my fingers wiggling inside and turn my head to kiss Jared.

He groans as the tang of her juices mixed with my taste floods his mouth and I begin fingering Gen again, feeling her walls fluttering and quivering around them.

"You like that Mama?" I ask as I pull away from my boyfriend. "You want more? I can recreate our first night."

"Fuck yes!" Gen screams. "Fist me baby."

I curl my fingers down and work my closed fist into her sopping wet pussy easily, twisting my wrist as she writhes above me. I lean down and suck her clit between my lips, flicking the nub with my tongue.

"Shit! I'm going to cum again," she pants and I take my fingers and press against her sweet spot. Her thighs clamp around my head as she climaxes.

Jared walks around behind me and I feel the swath of his tongue lick from my clit to my entrance and up to my ass. It isn't the first time he's ate me like that and it is erotic and obscene and I love it.

When Jared's tip notches at my opening, I wiggle my hips and he slaps his palm down on my asscheek. I moan as I lay my forehead against Gen's leg. Jared spanks me once more before he slams into me, burying his whole length in one thrust.

"Oh fuck! Yes!" I yell out as he begins a pounding pace. His hands gripping my hips tight enough to leave bruises.

Gen finally recuperates enough to join in, kissing me senseless and whispering not-so-sweet nothings in my ear.

"Jared is fucking you real good ain't he? You're taking all that cock. You gonna let him put a baby in you? Yea you are, aren't ya? Get all big and round with a Padalecki growing in you. You want that? You want Jared to cum deep inside and impregnate you?"

"Uh huh," is all I can muster as Jared keeps pounding into me from behind, his balls bouncing up to slap my clit.

"Jared, put a baby in our baby girl. Fill her little pussy up."

"Yes Daddy. Please," I say, finally getting my voice. "Please daddy put your baby in me."

"Oh god. Yea, I can do that. I can definitely do that."

"Mama?" I call out to Gen who lays down to meet my eyes. "Are you sure? This is what you want?"

"Yes baby. I want to watch you grow our baby inside you. I love you sweet girl. And I know you'll be the best mom, you already are to Tom, Shep and O."

She smiles before capturing my lips with hers, wrapping her hand in my hair and tugging, making me whimper and whine.

Jared stills behind me as I feel his dick throbbing and spurting, filling me with his cum and hopefully getting me pregnant. It seems to go on and on before he finally slumps and pulls out of me, only to prod his softened dick back inside and thrusts, making sure the release goes where it needs.

If we made a baby together tonight or not, I know these two beautiful people, my lovers, will be here with me through the celebration or if need be, the act of trying until we succeed.

Six weeks later, I find myself peeing on a stick. I haven't told anyone but my period is about 8 days late and I've always been regular.

I wait for the timer to go off on my phone, staring at the test laying facedown on the sink. Am I pregnant? Am I just late? But then if that's the case, why am I late?

The device dings and I hesitantly reach for the test, turning it over to find out the result.

As I walk down the stairs, I hear my family in the front room laughing and just being goofy, none of them aware of what I hold in my hand. The small thin piece of plastic that is going to change everything.

I stand at the doorway and just watch the five of them. I love them all so much and am grateful that they are now a part of my life. The kids accepted me and made me feel welcomed and loved from the very beginning and now they sometimes call me Mommy Y/N. It warms my soul when they utter those words.

Jared and Genevieve. I never thought I could find a love like I have with them. It is an all-consuming love. They are so kind, caring and generous. The three of us are in love and we are about to bring another life into the mix.

“Hey guys,” I call out getting their attention. Shep runs and wraps his arms around my waist and lays his head on my stomach, like he knows his new little brother or sister is growing inside me. But that can’t be, I haven’t said a word to anyone much less the kids.

I ruffle his hair and he looks up at me with a smile. “Why don’t you go sit on the sofa with your parents?” I request. “I have something to tell you all.”

“We’re having a baby,” I announce, not wanting to drag this out. I am happy, ecstatic even and I am hoping, ok I’m pretty sure this news will be accepted with joy.

“What?” Gen exclaims, a smile blossoming on her face. “Really?”

“Yea,” I answer as I hold up the pregnancy test with the two bold blue lines. “I’m pregnant.”

Gen gently lifts O off her lap and jumps up, rushing to hug me and pulling me into a kiss. We’ve never hidden our relationship from the kids so to see their Mom and I kissing is no big deal to them.

When she pulls away, Gen looks at me with tears in her eyes. "We're having a baby?"

"Yea we are," I tell her, my own tears making themselves known.

Suddenly Jared is pulling us both into his chest, his long strong arms holding us close.

"Where's the baby?" O asks as she looks around and in the floor. "I wann' see it."

We laugh as we break apart, going to join them on the sofa.

I pull O onto my lap while Gen holds Shep and Tom is propped on his Dad's knee.

"The baby isn't born yet," I explain to my daughter. "He or she has to get big enough before it can come live with us. Right now, it's just a tiny little bean."

"I wann' see it," she repeats and I chuckle as I maneuver her around to straddle my thighs. I lift my shirt, exposing my stomach and take her hand to place under my belly button. "The baby is in here, nice and warm and growing.”

Lil O’s eyebrows fuse together as she stares at the place her hand is and then she says, “Can I play with her when she gets here?”

I laugh and hear Gen and Jared chuckle.

“Of course you can sweetie,” I tell her. “But maybe not when she first gets here, she’ll be itty bitty.”

“She?” Jared says and I look at him. He practically has stars in his eyes with glee.

“Well O called it a she so I just ran with it. Who knows, it could be a boy,” I say with a shrug.

“I want a tyrannasaurus,” Shep declares.

“Geez buddy,” I laugh as I look down at him. “You want me to explode? The baby is in my belly and you want it to be a dinosaur?”

“No, I wasn’t thinking about that,” Shep says, his voice remorseful.

“Hey Sheppy? It’s okay. I was just joking with you.”

“Okay,” he says as he reaches over and puts his hand on my stomach beside his sister’s.

Before I know it I have three little palms against my skin, along with a slightly bigger one and a huge one over top of all of them; my family silently welcoming and loving on the new addition.

By the time Tom’s birthday comes around, I am huge! Gen had warned me that Padalecki’s were big babies but this is outrageous. I can't see my feet at all and need help to get out of bed every morning. This little one is making my life miserable but I know in the end, it will all be worth it.

We had decided against finding out the gender, mainly because I was still leery about how correct those results could be. So the five of us have begun referring to the bump as Baby P. And right now Baby P was kicking my kidneys and punching my liver.

I still have almost a month before my due date of April 11 and it seems as if time is slowing down. Every day is a hurdle to get through, with being 8 months pregnant and still trying to help out around the house and do my chores, though both Gen and Jared have fussed at me for doing too much. But I’m pregnant, not disabled.

We’ve planned a barbeque party for Tom’s birthday and invited most of his friends from school, plus the Ackles and the Morgan’s and a few others from Jared’s time on the show. Both sets of grandparents are going to be here also, so it would definitely be a full house.

I am upstairs in the bedroom, trying to slide my sandals on but having trouble since I can’t see anything. Jared walks in while I huff and try again, only to push the shoe farther away.

“Hey baby,” he says gently. “Let me help you.”

“This is ridiculous,” I whine as he lifts my leg and slides the leather onto my foot. “I can’t do anything but waddle around, running into things and just getting in the way. I’m an annoyance to everyone. Maybe I should just stay up here.”

“You hush that right now,” he admonishes me, standing up to tower over me. “You do not annoy anyone. You do not get in the way at all. You are pregnant, carrying my baby. You’re beautiful, baby girl. I love watching you, knowing that’s my child inside you; a life we created out of our love.” He tugs a stray hair behind my ear and tilts my chin up. “I love you. Gen loves you. Tom, Shep and O love you. We all love you and we love this baby. So get over yourself and get that cute little ass downstairs to celebrate our son’s birthday.”

“Cute and little is not how I would refer to my ass,” I retort with a smile. “I look like a Kardashian.”

“Mmhmm,” Jared mumbles as he leans down to kiss me. “More to spank.”

I chuckle as I tiptoe to kiss him and then turn to head downstairs to join my family and greet our guests.

The party is in full swing as most of the adults sit in lounge chairs, talking and catching up while Jared and Jensen man the grill and the ladies are in the kitchen gathering up the condiments and sides.

I have been commanded to stay in my seat and ask for anything I need. Jared went as far as to tell me if he saw me on my feet, he would spank me in front of everyone. And as much as I love him spanking me, that was something that no one else needed to see so I kept my promise, only asking that he give me a bottle of water for my stay.

Everyone seems to be having a good time; the kids are enjoying the gigantic bounce house that we rented and sat up in the backyard, the adults congregate on the patio talking and laughing and waiting for food.

I look around with a blissful heart at the family and friends I have acquired since becoming Jared and Gen’s lover. No one seems to bat an eye anymore about our relationship and took it at face value and that made me very happy. Sure, there were a few things still being said on the internet but those people don’t matter to me. What matters to me is the ones here today, celebrating our son’s birthday.

A pain shoots through my body but as soon as it appears, it disappears so I think nothing of it and go back to watching Tom, Shep, JJ, and a few of their friends from school run around the yard playing tag. It’s a good day.

That good day turns when later that evening while the ones of us that are still lounging around, mostly family, my water breaks. Gerald and Sherri, Jared’s parents, stay at the house with the kids as Gen, Jared and I rush to the hospital.

In the early morning hours of March 18, we welcome Delaney Grace Padalecki, a whopping 9 pound 12 ounce baby girl.

I thought I knew what love was, what love is but until I looked into my daughter’s eyes, I had had no idea.

Love is infinite. Love is encompassing. Love is the glue that cements us all together. And I have found that with Gen and Jared and their-our-kids and now with Delaney. There is no way my life could be any richer. A once in a lifetime encounter gave me love and a family.

THE END

@lostinaseaoffictionalbliss @spnbaby-67 @tftumblin @sea040561 @delightfullykrispypeach @larajadeschmidt13 @atc74 @vicariouslythruspn @squirrelnotsam @death-unbecomes-you @sandlee44 @blacktithe7 @hoboal87 @mogaruke @deanwanddamons @supraveng @deandreamernp

#jared padalecki #Genevieve Padalecki #reader insert #Padalecki kids adorableness #Once In A Lifetime #a story from a dream #smut #fluff #smidge of angst #pregnancy #so much smut #S.M.U.T.#i'm not even sorry #down a rabbit hole #NOT SPN

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unbridgeabledistances · 4 years

Note

I love your last fic so much it got me thinking could you write something about like the gallaghers( +Kev and v and sandy etc) observing Ian and Mickey’s relationship? Like their perspectives of seeing them be soft with each other and just their dynamic? I’m sorry if this doesn’t make sense lol <3

hiiiii anon!<3 okay i want to start off by saying that this got WAY too long, bc i loved this prompt a lot- so much that i think i might make this a multi-part thing on ao3! i started with sandy (since i am in love with her) but i’ll also go through the gallaghers/kev & v soon- lmk if u guys want me to continue, and who u would want me to write next if i do (or if u want me to continue with sandy lol i have lots of thoughts and feelings)

this ended up taking place in s10 when we first meet sandy, fyi:) also tw for brief mentions of abuse (as always, bc of terry 🙄) -- and there is a reference to the line in 10x07 that jokes about mickey and sandy for a brief moment

When Sandy heard her phone buzz on that Tuesday afternoon, sitting on the stained and lumpy couch in her shithead uncle’s living room while drinking a beer and arguing with Alek about what type of insurance fraud could make the biggest payout, she had no idea what to expect on the other end of the line. The phone kept ringing, the contact info lighting up the screen: MICKEY.

Mickey? Shit. It had been a long fucking time. Between her own various juvie stints as a kid and Mickey’s time behind bars overlapping just as she got released, Sandy hadn’t seen Mickey since… high school, maybe? Whenever it was, it was back when Mickey was a grimy kid with spikey hair and dirty fingernails, a kid with an obsession with guns and way too much time on his hands, back when they would hang out by the train tracks and drink beer and get way too high and do stupid shit; all in all, back when everything was a hell of a lot simpler. Sandy assumed Mickey had met Royal and been clued in about her shitshow of a life at some point while she’d been gone, and they’d possibly overlapped at a family party or two a few years ago when they both were in town— but other than hearing about the aftershocks of Mickey coming out and driving Terry up a goddamn wall, so much so that Terry broke his parole and was headed straight back to prison hours after his release, Sandy hadn’t seen Mickey in forever.

Which is why this call intrigued her so much— Mickey was supposed to be in prison for at least a couple more years, or at least that’s what his brothers had said, so why the fuck was he using a cell phone right now?

Sandy nodded her head towards the cellphone, cutting Alek off mid-sentence and sliding her thumb across the screen to pick up the call. Before saying anything, she rose off the creaky springs of the couch and speedwalked out to the front porch before answering— whatever the fuck Mickey wanted, she assumed he was calling her because this conversation wasn’t for the ears of any other Milkoviches. She lit a cigarette and leaned against the post of the front stoop, listening to the silence hanging heavy on her phone’s speaker.

“Mickey? You there?”

A low chuckle came from the other end of the line.

“Fuck. Been a long time.” Mickey’s voice sounded the same; punchy and snarky, maybe a little gruffer and raspier after years of cigarette smoke. Sandy waited a moment for Mickey to give more of a reply, or an explanation for his call, but it was clear that Mickey wasn’t going to give one right away— it was like he was testing the waters, like he was deciding if making this call was the right move. Soft static echoed on the phone line.

Sandy totally got it— reemerging from a life of cinderblock cell walls and barbed wire fences fucking sucked, especially when you were a Milkovich and the moment you got out you were faced with a choice, an opportunity: did you want to go back home, or did you want to start fresh, erase your own name, and forget this dysfunctional family ever existed? Sandy knew she felt the same way when she got out. Mickey deciding to call Sandy was a big fucking move, and she realized that— reclaiming your life as a Milkovich on the brink of a new beginning took guts.

“So, I take it you’re out of prison?” Sandy asked after a moment, inhaling another slow puff of her cigarette.

There was that laugh again— Sandy had weirdly missed it. Honestly, Mickey hadn’t ever been too bad to be around— they’d both felt like outsiders in the family, had both always had a strong head on their shoulders and a fucking moral compass, unlike the rest of Terry’s sheep who did his bidding and got swastikas tattooed on their chest. When he was younger Mickey used to follow Terry and his older brothers around like a lost puppy, and he even got those fucking knuckle tats—but later in high school, Sandy remembered seeing something deep snap inside him, bleeding out in “STAY THE FUCK OUT” and “FUCK LOVE” signs taped onto his bedroom walls. At the time she thought it was the fucked-up shit with Terry and Mandy driving him up a wall— but now she realized the constant bombardment of homophobia, coupled with the cuts and bruises blooming on his cheeks and the cigarette burn scars on his arms, must have been signs of Mickey realizing the rude awakening that was inevitably going to come if he wanted to be who he was. Sandy couldn’t even imagine— no one really gave a shit who she fucked, and her cousins didn’t know anything about her sex life—but she couldn’t fathom being Terry’s son, the pride and joy of the Milkovich clan, and needing to outwardly admit those deeper parts of herself.

“Yup, I’m free to join civilization as of this morning. Overcrowding or some shit.” Sandy could hear Mickey also taking a drag of a cigarette on the other end of the line. She smirked to herself. Guess we both didn’t break the Milkovich nicotine addiction.

“So, uh, listen,” Mickey continued, and Sandy immediately knew he was in deep shit if she was the one he was calling to ask for a favor. “I’m in a bit of a… situation. Don’t wanna go into too many specifics, but there might be a massive fucking Mexican cartel after me right now.”

Sandy barked out a laugh before she could help herself. Fucking Mickey. “Oh yeah? Sounds like you’re feeling thrilled to be a free man again.”

Mickey chuckled again. “Fuck you. But hey, d’you think you can bring my shit by to me, so I don’t have to stop by the house and get fucking killed? You don’t gotta rush or whatever, just didn’t wanna show my face quite yet.”

Sandy could feel all the unsaid things wrapped in the way Mickey’s sentence ended. Didn’t want to show his face quite yet because of this cartel bullshit, or because of Terry? She decided it didn’t really matter— Mickey was a good guy, she could spend an hour or so rounding up his shit and bringing it to him if that’s what he needed.

“Got it.” She blew out more smoke, watching it curl and drift over the wasteland of the front yard on a gust of summer air.

Mickey cleared his throat, like he was gearing up to say more. When he spoke, his voice was softer around the edges, more genuine than before.

“I’m, uh. I’m sure you heard everything about me while I was gone. About Terry flipping his shit. Probably not the best idea for me to come around the house quite yet—my brothers n’ I haven’t really talked much since then either.” He paused, inhaling another drag of his cigarette. “I figured you’d get it. And hey, if you can bring the stuff by, I’d love to hear all the badass shit you’ve been up to the past few years.”

Sandy nearly winced—yeah, if by “badass shit” you mean getting forcibly married to a douchebag and then couch surfing for months— but she tried to keep her shit together for Mickey’s sake. She stubbed out her cigarette on the railing of the porch, straightening from where she was leaning.

“I’ve got it Mickey, don’t worry about it. Where are you right now, anyways?”

She could hear the hint of relief bleeding into Mickey’s voice when he replied. “I’m at the Gallagher house? The grey one by the tracks.”

Sandy rolled her eyes. “I was in jail for a couple of years Mickey, not braindead. I know where the Gallagher house is.”

Mickey huffed out a breath, but there wasn’t any sharpness in it. “Excuse me for tryin’ to be helpful, smartass.”

“Why the fuck are you there, anyways?”

“I’m, uh, crashing with my partner for now. Ian?”

Holy shit, Mickey was still fucking Ian Gallagher? Sandy had pieced together that Ian was the reason Mickey came out months after getting married to some Russian bitch, and according to Iggy the whole reason Mickey went to jail in the first place was some love-crazed revenge plot on Ian’s behalf— but since getting locked up Mickey hadn’t kept in touch with anyone, other than a shady-as-fuck message to his brothers after he’d busted out of prison letting everyone know that he was in Mexico, despite getting thrown back into jail in Chicago a couple months later. Sandy didn’t really know the details, and she especially didn’t know anything about Mickey’s love life— but it was wild as fuck that someone as unsettled and ruthless and batshit crazy as Mickey could’ve been with the same person all this time, especially someone as seemingly bland as Ian Gallagher. Huh. Wonder if I’ll get to see Ian.

“Got it. I’ll round up your shit and bring it by the Gallagher house later today. And don’t worry, I won’t let anyone know you called til you’re ready.”

Mickey exhaled on the other end of the line. “There shouldn’t be much, just check the drawers or whatever. “

Sandy knew for a fact that most of Mickey’s lingering possessions had probably been taken, sold, or thrown out by a zealously homophobic Terry by now, but she wasn’t going to say as much to Mickey over the phone.

“I’m on it. See you in a couple hours.”

“Hey, Sandy?” Mickey blew out a long breath, and this time Sandy couldn’t tell if it was because he was still smoking or because he was riding a wave of relief, releasing the floodgates of anxiousness he’d been holding in the whole conversation. “Thanks. I fuckin’ owe you one.”

Sandy smirked. Maybe Mickey being let out of jail early was a good thing, despite how fucked his whole situation seemed— maybe, for once, someone in her family would be fun to be around, wouldn’t set her teeth on edge every two seconds by making a racist comment or forcing her to be something she wasn’t.

“I’ll text you when I’m almost at your love nest.”

She imagined Mickey’s grin as he replied. “Fuck you. See ya soon.”

After scraping through every rickety dresser drawer in Terry’s house for nearly an hour, Sandy could barely come up with anything that was reportedly Mickey’s: a couple of tattered shirts, an impressively overused-looking bong, and a single sneaker she’d left behind because she couldn’t find the other one. She threw it all in some shitty burlap rucksack she’d found on one of the bedroom floors, assuming no one would miss it— it dawned on her that maybe her cousins were lying, and some of the other stuff in the house was still Mickey’s, but she’d collected what she could based on the whispered directions Alek and Iggy had given her when Terry was out of the room.

Sandy unlocked her phone, and typed a quick message to Mickey. “Out front.”

Mickey’s reply came quickly, and Sandy noticed the front curtains rustling on the top floor of the Gallagher house.

“Coming down”

The front door creaked open, and Mickey walked out onto the front porch. He looked good; he looked cleaner, sure, but also like a fucking adult—like he’d grown into himself, like he actually carried himself with confidence instead of just pretending to. He nodded his chin up at Sandy in acknowledgement.

“Long time no see.” He smirked, leaning on the banister. “You make a good delivery service. All those hauls we did with Terry must’ve been good training.”

Sandy lazily walked up the front steps, reaching the bag out in front of her for Mickey to take. “Here’s all the shit I could find. It’s not much.”

Mickey jerked his head to the open door behind him. “You wanna come in for a sec?”

Sandy grinned. Why the fuck not. “Sure."

So that was how she found herself perched on what was presumably Ian Gallagher’s bed, watching Mickey ruffle through the burlap bag, his brows furrowed as he realized just how much of his shit was actually gone.

“This everything?”

“As much as I could find.”

They comfortably chatted back and forth about how everyone was— Sandy decided to divulge the fact that Mickey’s brothers were idiots who tried to crawl in bed with her every night, which is something that she had to joke about so she didn’t go fucking insane sleeping under the same roof as them.

“Fuck ‘em, chop their nuts off next time they try it.”

Sandy smirked. Finally, a decent fucking relative. She made some hollow joke about staying with Mickey, alluding to the extra-shitty night decades ago when their cousins had forced them to make out when they were way too high on something.

“Or I could stay here with you. Have fun like we did when we were kids.”

“You know that’s fucked up, right? We’re fucking cousins!”

“Plus he’s taken.” A voice came from around the corner.

Ian Gallagher looked bigger, taller, and more solid than Sandy remembered; he was definitely miles away from the scrawny kid with the bangs who worked at the Kash N Grab that Sandy and her cousins endlessly used to fuck with in middle school. Ian’s shoulders were wide, his body imposing in the tiny room; immediately, Mickey’s aggravated stance softened when Ian walked in, wrapped in a towel from the waist down.

“Oh right, you.” Sandy grinned as Ian hunched over the bed and grabbed his deodorant from the nightstand.

Mickey had turned back to the bag of clothes. “Hey, I had shampoo and shit, is there soap anywhere?”

Sandy rolled her eyes. “You’ve been gone for years, you think your brothers would save that shit for you?” she bit out— and okay, maybe she was a little pissed at Mickey’s brothers for the constant-sexual-assault thing.

Ian just applied his deodorant and leaned in close to Mickey as he passed by the bed towards the doorframe. “You can use mine. We’ll hit Costco later, I’m getting paid.”

It was stupid, but Sandy felt something soft pang in her chest at Ian’s words; it was just now that she was realizing it, but she didn’t think she’d ever seen someone take care of Mickey before, or so… automatically factor Mickey’s needs into a situation. Being a Milkovich was all about scrounging and scraping, and guarding what little you had; a Milkovich would never let someone use their fucking soap just because they cared about them, or not as an immediate reaction anyways.

“Nah, I can’t, man. PO texted me when you were in the shower, he’s got a job for me.”

Ian kept looking at Mickey from where he was leaning in the doorway. “Then give me a list of shit you need, and I’ll pick it up for you,” Ian said in an overly simple tone, like he was mocking the fact that Mickey didn’t realize Ian would run an errand for him.

Sandy smirked. Jesus, Gallagher is whipped.

“Isn’t that cute, little domestic bitches,” Sandy crooned before she could help herself.

Ian stepped into the room again and leaned in towards Mickey, pressing a kiss to Mickey’s cheek while Mickey aggressively tried to uncrumple one of the pile of shirts from the bag.

“Mm, thank you,” Ian said in reply, his voice muffling as he smushed his face closer to Mickey’s.

Mickey instantly smiled smugly as Ian’s lips pressed against his cheek—then he noticed Sandy was staring, so he flipped her off and smiled even wider. What the fuck? Sure, Mickey had flipped Sandy off, but he was practically fucking beaming in a way that Sandy had never seen. God, wonder if I’ll find this shit someday.

Ian detached himself from Mickey and walked out of the room, Mickey’s eyes lingering on his torso. Once Ian had turned the corner Mickey snapped back to attention, fixing his eyes back onto the small mountain of clothes spread on the bed in front of him. Mickey lifted the bong off the bedsheets, and met Sandy’s gaze.

“You have to go, or d’you wanna hang for a bit? I don’t have to be at work for a couple hours, and it’s gonna suck enough that I should probably be high before I get there.”

Sandy grinned. “Hell yeah, I’m down.”

They sat on the rickety back steps of the Gallagher house, silently taking hits and passing the bong back and forth. It had been years since they’d been in the same space, but Sandy and Mickey easily sank into a comfortable silence, passively surrounded by the shrieks of kids playing across the alleyway and the bubbling of water as they inhaled. Mickey blew smoke out of his nose, then sat back so he was leaning against the banister and passed the glass pipe to Sandy.

“So,” Sandy started as she held the lighter to the bong and inhaled deeply. “Ian Gallagher.”

Mickey huffed out a laugh. “Yup. That’s some Romeo and Juliet shit for ya.”

Sandy smirked as she exhaled. “You really fucking love him, huh?”

Mickey eyebrows raised almost imperceptibly as he looked towards her. “Yeah. Guess I do.” He took the bong from Sandy’s outstretched hand. “Took me forever to get shit straight with him, though.”

Ah. So their road to domestic bliss wasn’t as straightforward as it seemed. Sandy’s curiosity was growing.

“Because of shit with Terry?”

Mickey stiffened, coughing a bit as he exhaled smoke, like Sandy’s question caught him off guard. “Shit. Yeah. That too. Let’s just say there were lots of fucking ups and downs, and we both had a lot of shit to unpack.”

Sandy snickered. “You sound like a fucking couples therapist.”

Mickey rolled his eyes. “If you wanna see couples therapy, I should tell you about the months me and Ian were sharing a fucking cell. We nearly ripped each other’s heads off. We literally stabbed someone so one of us might get sent to fucking solitary.”

Sandy’s laughter grew. “Are you fucking serious?”

Mickey grinned, and passed the bong back to Sandy again. “Fuck. Yeah. I fucking love him, though. He’s fucking crazy, and I still can’t let him go.” Mickey looked off into the distance across the alleyway, and either the weed was really hitting him right now, or he was being a very sappy motherfucker.

Sandy nudged Mickey’s knee. “You guys are cute together.” Mickey’s eyebrows raised when he heard the word “cute,” and Sandy quickly tried to rephrase. “Not cute, but y’know. Good for each other. You seem happy. Happy is... good.”

Mickey nodded pensively. “How’re you doing, anyways?”

Sandy shrugged noncommittally. “Eh. We can talk about me another time. How the fuck did you and Ian end up sharing a jail cell, anyways?”

Mickey let out a throaty laugh. “I heard Gallagher was getting locked up when I was down south, so I essentially pulled some strings and fucking snitched on the cartel I was working for. Hauled my ass back up here so we could be together.”

Holy fuck. Sandy’s jaw nearly dropped. “Mickey, you’re batshit crazy.” She shoved him squarely in the chest this time. “Are you fucking serious?! You evaded the feds, were living in Mexico, and you came back for Ian Gallagher?”

Mickey rolled his eyes again, placing the bong on the steps. “I can’t explain it, man. I just didn’t wanna be anywhere else, I guess.”

Sandy leaned back onto the banister. “Shit.” She paused for a moment, wondering if she should ask the next question. “Do you… want me to tell anyone you’re back?”

Mickey glanced over at her, his eyes alert. “Nah. Not yet. That okay with you?”

Sandy nodded. “Of course.” Mickey pulled out his phone, checking the time and presumably looking for a distraction from tiptoeing around talking about Terry— but Sandy had to tell him, had to let him know one more thing.

“Hey, Mickey?”

Mickey looked up. “Yeah?”

“I don’t really know the details of what went down with Terry, or whatever— but I just wanted to let you know that… if you ever wanna come home, I’m on your side. No questions asked. And I think a lot of the others are, too.”

The corner of Mickey’s mouth ticked upward. “Thanks.”

Sandy stood, checking her phone and zipping her leather jacket. “Well, I’d probably let you sober up a bit before your big parolee first day of work.”

Mickey raised a middle finger up to her from where he was seated, but then rose to stand.

“Thanks for comin’ by. And hey—you’re free to crash here anytime. There’s a million fucking kids running around all the time, but there’s always a couch or something open if everyone at home’s giving you too much shit.”

Sandy felt something warm growing in her chest. It had been a long fucking time since someone offered to take care of her, just because they could, just because they wanted to— maybe being a Milkovich wasn’t half bad. Maybe there were some good ones.

Sandy nodded in acknowledgement, and turned to walk down the creaky back steps. Wow. If Sandy was sure of one thing right now, it was that Mickey really, really fucking loved Ian Gallagher.

#also this goes without saying but i am not acknowledging the inc*st jokes as things that actually happened #bc that makes me!! wildly uncomfortable!!! lmao #but that being said hope y’all enjoyed this :)#gallavich #gallavich fanfiction #shameless #shameless fic #ian x mickey #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #sandy milkovich #gallavich fic

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babaleshy · 3 years

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I'm Autistic

Because this will likely be a lengthy, wordy post about my self-diagnosis as Autistic as well as all of my experiences regarding Autistic traits, I'm going to leave a "read more" link so that you're not scrolling for ages just to catch up on your feed.

Ah, I see you've clicked "keep reading" or "read more" or whatever this site has it labeled as, now. You don't get to be mad at how long this is or how much of a waste of time reading this may be to you because you consciously clicked on the link. Therefore, I am exempt from taking responsibilities of eating up any bit of your time, including the time you've wasted reading this disclaimer.

So... Yes. I am. And it's a self-diagnosis right now.

You're probably thinking that I saw a Tik Tok clip, checked out a page on WebMD, and decided that I'm Autistic (this is in reference to a Tik Tok I saw last night that nearly made me spit out my drink because of how painfully accurate the "what people think self-diagnosis is vs reality" clip was). That is, of course, not the case.

A few years ago (likely 2018), I don't recall what it was I read online, but it made me go, "Oh wow, that makes so much sense to me," in regards to a neurodivergent trait. However, this was then I thought I had ADHD. My husband has ADHD, was diagnosed with it as a child, and because his dad forced the doctor (this was like, in the late 90s, early 2000s I think) to put him on Adderall and Ritalin, my husband does not remember 3 years of his life because he was a drooling, zombified mess. Why did his dad do this? Because his grades were bad. Did this help with his grades? No. Did his dad take him off the meds because he didn't get the desired result? Also no. My husband wasn't even informed on what ADHD was. He was simply told he had it and to take these pills. It wasn't until he (my husband) read the label saying that it could increase the risk of heart issues that he cussed his dad out and flushed all the pills down the toilet. Up until very recently, he wasn't sure if he actually had ADHD until he saw a YouTuber who was actually diagnosed with it display the exact traits he had.

But he didn't see this YouTuber when I thought I had ADHD, so my husband couldn't exactly relate, plus I didn't want to trigger anything with him on the subject.

But the more I researched, the more I realized I could be on the spectrum. It wasn't until 2019 that I was printing out articles, trait lists, etc. to highlight and put into a folder (which is thick and nearly bursting with what I've printed out to have a hardcopy of records highlighting the traits that I have, including traits my husband and my mom see in me) that I realized "I could have Asperger's."

Of course, I no longer use that term after finding out it was named after a n*zi, and I began to embrace the term "Autistic" instead.

But the thing that triggered me into going, "Wait, so it's not ADHD that I think I have, it's Asperger's?" was, like my husband, seeing a YouTuber talk about their traits and experiences. I had identical struggles, myself. (Through this same YouTuber, I also found out I'm greysexual, too! There's a name to describe my experience with sexual attraction! Yay!)

There are a lot of VERY SPECIFIC TRAITS Autistic people experience that aren't mentioned by the YouTuber or in anything that I've printed out and highlighted that I have found through various Tik Toks that I have personally experienced that simply further solidifies the fact that I'm definitely on the spectrum. When I showed the Tik Tok I mentioned earlier (I don't remember their name) to my husband last night, he was wide-eyed because the description of how that individual self-diagnosed themselves WAS EXACTLY WHAT I DID WORD FOR WORD HOLY SHIT.

I was already convinced I am Autistic, but each time I read Twitter threads of people's experiences with their Autistic traits, each time I watch Tik Toks or certain YouTubers share their experiences, it further solidifies that yep, I'm Autistic.

What's amazing is that my husband is very supportive. I'm extremely lucky to have married him. I've been a terrible masker but he loves me anyways. He never gave me shit for my meltdowns and tried to help me out, thinking I was just horribly overly stressed. Now that he knows why I've had the few outwardly noticeable meltdowns that I've had throughout our years together, he knows how to help me more, now. And while he's figured out my traits and what issues I have, knowing that I'm on the spectrum helps him make sense of why I'm like this, and he can help me accordingly whether it's to prepare for something in advance, help me calm down, etc.

(I should also add here real quick that there's a high chance I have OCD as well, but less of the compulsive actions and more of the obsessive thoughts, but I'm not entirely sure just yet if this is the case. I'm actually hoping to see someone about this but with the pandemic, I don't know when that will be.)

Now... onto the traits and experiences.

My Traits (that stand out with neon lights)(Will copy word-for-word a trait my mom or husband see in me and it will be typed in a different color.)

Having a folder that has all of my research I've obsessively looked up, printed out, highlighted what I saw in myself with one color (yellow) while highlighting what my mom and my husband see with another color (pink). I'm also using this folder to make this list as a reference because I sometimes forget certain traits I do have are because I'm Autistic. (I'm 32 as I write this, so when so much of what you think, do, and experience that you see is normal for you turns out to be an Autistic trait, it takes a while to get used to it and thus remember that because you haven't had a label for it your whole life.)

Despite being goth/punk, I dress as comfortably as I can. Textures aren't a very big issue for me, but what feels like strangulation of my body tends to be a problem. I cannot handle having the cross seams of pants feeling like I have a chopstick slowly impaling my vulva, or I can't stand how tight some shorts are that they pinch my hip joints.

I've NEVER spent much time grooming my own hair. It's either tiring, I"m impatient and want it done NOW, or both. This is why I have a Tank Girl haircut (all buzzed except for bangs), where I can basically "wash and go." (Husband does my haircuts and dyes and he's kickass at it.)

Eccentric personality; may be reflected in appearance.

Is youthful for age, in looks, dress, behavior, and tastes.

Usually a little more expressive in the face and gesture than male counterparts.

"May not have strong sense of identity and can be very chameleon like before diagnosis." (This resonates with me in the form that I never saw myself in ANY fictional character other than Tank Girl. My husband agrees with this opinion, but he also says he also sees a lot of me in Caulifla from Dragonball Super.)

I enjoy reading and films as a retreat, often sci-fi, fantasy, children's (sometimes), can have favorites which are a refuge.

Uses control as a stress management (like routines, rules, rigid certain habits, etc.)

Usually happiest at home or in other controlled environment.

I've been seen as "sensitive" by some, and mocked for crying a lot by others.

I struggled with social aspects of college and have 2 partial degrees.

Often have trouble holding a job and finds employment very daunting.

Slow at comprehending at times due to sensory and cognitive processing issues.

DOES NOT DO WELL WITH VERBAL INSTRUCTIONS; MUST BE WRITTEN DOWN

Special interests (I'll get into these later).

Emotionally immature and emotionally sensitive.

Anxiety and fear are predominant emotions (some of which might be due to possible OCD).

I do have some sensory issues such as visual processing issues at times, certain sounds, certain smells, food I think, and issues with sunlight and my goddamn retinas.

Moody and prone to bouts of depression. Both of my parents as well as my husband have described my personality as reminding them of a cat.

Mild to severe gastro-intestinal difficulties (some of which could be due to endometriosis, btw).

I stim a little such as leg-bouncing, foot-waggling, some hand-flapping, some bouncing, the "spine-shimmy," joint-cracking, or playing with my ears.

Prone to temper or crying meltdowns, sometimes over seemingly small things due to sensory or emotional overload.

Hates injustice and hates being misunderstood, which incites anger and rage.

Prone to mutism when stressed or upset, especially after a meltdown, likely to stutter and may have a raspy voice.

Words and actions often misunderstood by others.

Perceived to be cold-natured and self-centered; unfriendly.

Very outspoken at times, may get very fired up when talking about passionate/obsessive interests.

Will shutdown in social situations once overloaded but generally better at socializing in small doses. May even give the appearance of skilled, but it is a "performance."

Doesn't go out much; will prefer to go out with partner only (aka my husband).

Will not do "girly" things like shopping.

Takes relationships seriously.

There's a bit on this chart (some of you probably already know by know what chart I'm using here) that says due to sensory issues, one would either really enjoy sex or strongly dislike it. I'm in the former camp complete with a pretty high libido.

Often prefers the company of animals.

So there are the traits that REALLY stick out like a sore thumb. These come from a site regarding female Asperger traits or however it's labeled as. I have plenty more from two other articles I printed out with lots of highlighting, but the chart actually sums a lot of the definitive shit quite nicely. At some point in this list, I could tell I went "fuck it" and copied many things word for word anyways since I'll be talking about experiences later in this post.

But it was this chart that I'd discovered that I started to realize that I really am on the spectrum, and to triple check, I asked my mom and my husband if they saw any of this in me. The traits typed in green are ones I wasn't sure of and had to ask them if they saw it. I'm not always aware of how I am, who I am at times, etc. I also didn't want to lie about it, so I had to get second and third opinions.

Despite all of this, only very few people that know me IRL know about me being Autistic. This is because I was heavily bullied growing up and since I haven't exactly left my hometown, I really don't want whoever stayed in the area as well to either have more fuel and re-enter my life that way, or try really hard to relieve their guilty conscience and demand that I forgive them or some shit. I also don't want "Autism Mommies" to come at my ass either asking that I help their kid (I'm not fond of children so that's not happening, plus ableism is what fucks a lot of Autistic people over regarding of age but they won't take that for an answer) or that because they---a neurotypical person---have a child who's Autistic, then that means they know all about it and because I'm not exactly like their child then I can't possibly be Autistic. It's just a whole mountain of shit I don't wanna get into.

This next bit will be split into 2 parts. One will be my special interests, and the other will be my experiences from my past that are prime examples of being Autistic long before anyone in the common public knew what Autism actually was.

My Special Interests (Both Forever & Temporary)

The following list will have my special interests but with indicators in parentheses as to whether they are forever-interests (as in, I never lost interest in the thing) or temporary (meaning, it was short-lived be it by weeks, months, or a few years). This will be in chronological order, meaning: the order of which these have appeared throughout my life.

Barney (temporary; helped me skip preschool and become honor roll student in kindergarten though)

Halloween (forever)

the color orange (forever)

dinosaurs (forever)

Donkey Kong Country esp. for SNES (forever)

animals (forever)

Godzilla movies (forever)

monster movies (forever)

Pokemon (temporary; I still like Pokemon, but it's not as hyperfocused as it used to be)

Digimon (temporary; same situation as with Pokemon)

Dragonball Z (forever)

Sailor Moon (on-and-off)

Ultimate Muscle (Kinnikuman Nisei) (forever)

Freddy vs Jason movie (still like, but the hyperfocus was temporary)

horror movies (forever)

Transformers (temporary)

Dark Knight movie (temporary)

Harley Quinn (temporary)

Lobo (temporary)

X-Men (forever, but only certain universes, mainly the 90s cartoon, and the character is always Hank McCoy)

neon-colored stuff (temporary; kind of some sort of semi-rave/techno phase)

books (forever; this was when I discovered it's "legal" to enjoy books if you "aren't smart"; I may explain this logic I had later in the post)

sex/sexuality/sexology (forever on the first two, temporary on the last one)

BDSM (on-and-off)

feminism (temporary in regards to doing research and educating myself; I still hold the views I've developed as a result, just not obsessively researching this topic anymore)

anarchism (forever)

ecology (forever)

Pleistocene epoch (forever)

goth and punk stuff (forever after discovering what these things are all about for real compared to when I was in high school and had no idea how to ask, who to ask, or where to look this stuff up at in rural Ohio)

Hellblazer (temporary)

Serbian heritage (on-and-off)

bats (temporary)

arachnids (forever)

teratophilia (forever; finally have a word to describe this damn kink)

gardening (current; unsure)

Russian language (current; unsure)

DIY things (forever)

Towards the end, it may not be in the proper order thanks to slowly losing my damn mind being cooped up mostly in my room on this farm since moving back here in 2014. The two that are "current;unsure" are ones I have a hyperfocus in right now, but I don't know if this will be temporary or not. I certainly hope not, especially considering how useful these things will be. And while I have gardening as one of them, I haven't properly begun yet because I get empty promises from my parents where they claim they'd help me, not to worry about it, then get irritated when I ask where the help is and they suddenly can't give me the help when I told them I needed it.

I should also note that I don't exactly have an encyclopedic knowledge in a whole lot of these interests that are forever-interests because I'm normally exhausted just trying to exist with minimal trouble from people. I'm hoping this will change. The things I know I have an almost encyclopedic knowledge in would be Dragonball Z, animals/ecology, and... a-and that's it. That's really it. That's all I've got because Dragonball Z was so profoundly different compared to other cartoons I've watched in the 90s that it was a wonderful escape, and I grew up around animals, taking care of animals, and watching nature documentaries. The stress I went through growing up has caused my memory of some of that wonderful animal knowledge to be lost and what could be re-gained may be easily forgotten again, hence why I need to narrow my focus for what I'd like to be an ecologist for. While I love paleontology, I want to help the living world's ecosystems and environments, too. I'd love to go back to school for this stuff now that I'm more informed of who I am and what I want in life (as opposed to being forced to pick a college major while still in high school while I'm just trying to survive the concept of existence).

In terms of collecting things pertaining to my interests, a common pattern you'll see me have is a very slowly growing Hank McCoy collection. This is largely because there isn't too much stuff made regarding this character. (There also isn't much stuff I can find that involves Piccolo, Cyndaquil, Donkey Kong, giant ground sloths, etc. that isn't already snatched up by other fans.)

Now, I'm going to get into the list of experiences. Some of which will talk about my special interests, but I also really want to talk about my struggles, too.

Experiences That Screamed "I'm Autistic"

In gradeschool, I was friends with someone who probably wasn't actually a friend and her mom made her hang out with me since I didn't really have any friends. She has told me several times that she didn't want to be my friend anymore with some kind of hostile catty smile, but I just.. I wasn't getting it. Because there was a smile. Why say that with a smile? After all we've been through? Then she's back to being my friend the next week. She really wanted to hang out with the popular girls (yes, there were cliques in 90s American gradeschool) and has done countless things to sabotage our friendship such as telling me Barney is a fake, Donkey Kong was a real gorilla who hung himself, etc. And I believed all this shit, too, in an attempt to still be an acceptable friend. She even told me that I couldn't be a witch because I liked toads so much (toads were the only wildlife I excitedly interacted with in my back yard on a regular basis).

I love Halloween for many reasons, but one of them (aside from my favorite color being involved) was the fact that it was acceptable to wear a mask. I love (and still do) the idea of covering my face because I feel less "naked" to the world. So this pandemic had a small plus for me in the form of mask-wearing outside of Halloween has become somewhat more acceptable.

In 5th grade, another classmate who had more obvious Autistic traits and was diagnosed with Asperger's at the time was an asshole to me. They would constantly give me shit and bully me for whatever reason. When I finally took a stand, the teachers on duty at recess called me to the bottom of the hill, forcing me to look at them WITHOUT allowing me to have my hands up to block the sunlight that hurt my eyes, and were able to manipulate me into "admitting picking on so-and-so for no reason" because I chased them around the playground where a group of girls (the same cliquey assholes the former "friend" wanted to mingle with) had to group-carry me away. They're the ones who snitched and they gave me those same hostile smiles. That's when I learned that not all smiles meant good things. I was 10.

I sometimes "lose the ability" to ask for help long before the "help" I ever got in any circumstance was just me being met with frustration by whoever is trying to "help" me or I'm met with "sorry, can't help you there. (The former being with homework or school work, the latter being with going to authorities about bullies.)

Growing up, I was never girly (or girly enough) and I've tried to, but I failed miserably. My special interests would roar through and because it was too odd or different or annoying, it gave other girls fuel for bullying me with.

Regarding the lack of being girly enough, I was at a pool party with the former "friend" mentioned earlier and she started this "game" where she and the other girls would leap into the pool saying, "I love you, Leonardo!" This was in 4th grade and in reference to the Titanic movie, which at that point, I'd never heard of, because I was too pumped for the latest Land Before Time sequel. So when I leapt into the pool, I said, "I love you, Raphael." All the girls were confused, asked who that was. I then asked, "Aren't we playing Ninja Turtles?" Because the only Leonardo I knew of was a fucking Ninja Turtle, goddamnit. Who let you brats watch that shitty romance film anyways? Boring as fuck.

Aside from the occasional weekend visits or sleepovers at the former "friend's" house, I didn't get to socialize much, so I would spend most of my days (especially in the summer) watching what was on TV or watching from our very large VHS collection. During which I would make mental notes on how certain characters acted or what they said and try to remember that to mimic them in a social setting, which would be out of place because I'd be so focused on mainly the dialogue that once it prompts me to say the thing, they don't respond how I expect them to and then I'm at a loss.

I was very ignorant of music and didn't even know the concept of independent or underground bands existed. Plus, rural Ohio is a cultural wasteland. Otherwise, I would've gotten into metal, goth, and punk way earlier in life. So I thought that bands that existed were because television said so.

Speaking of an odd logic... If it was taboo or bad to talk about, I thought it was illegal. Thus, I thought any knowledge about sex was illegal and that it was supposed to happen "naturally."

I also thought that, because I wasn't considered as smart by my peers, some teachers, and even as such in the form of an insult from my parents from time to time (despite what they claim NOW), that also meant I wasn't allowed to enjoy books, because only smart people are allowed to enjoy reading. So therefore, it would be illegal for me, a not-smart person, to enjoy reading a book. So I had to focus on the pictures because if I enjoyed reading, somehow everyone would know and then I'd get into trouble.

I also thought it was illegal to talk about periods.

I socially struggled BADLY when I got to middle school because my brain was like... 4 years behind? How the fuck do people know all these bigger words? Or complex issues? This was also when I had to start suppressing ALL urges to cry because at that age, I'm not "supposed" to cry over everything. So I still, to this day, suppress it to the point of guaranteeing inducing a headache. Because I've always caught shit for crying.

Middle school was when I met an oppressive "friend" who was obsessed with me because she had a crush on me and was rather controlling of who I could and couldn't talk to and got pissy if I got close to making a new friend. Because I was desperate for a friend that wasn't like the former "friend," I allowed this abuse into my life.

High school was me just trying to survive. By the time I got home, I was too mentally exhausted to enjoy anything short of watching TV or whatever was rented from Blockbuster.

My brain was still feeling like it was years behind, and I struggled to keep up with whatever was supposed to be something I knew about, including the concept of masturbation.

Like I said earlier, anything sex-related might've been illegal to talk about, and because masturbation was still kinda taboo, I feared I'd get in trouble, but my teenage hormones compelled me to do it a LOT. It consumed my free time almost like an escape, a form of stimming, but I was shameful of it to the point of suicidal thoughts.

The former bullet was due to being raised in a christian household. My parents didn't have such views on sex like this, but I was afraid of being in trouble for asking, took to the internet, and caught some misinfo about how immoral it was. I mourned I'd be going to hell.

Speaking of religion, I thought it was illegal to change your religious beliefs, and there was only Judiasm, Muslim, and Buddhism outside of christianity (I'm Pagan, now).

While I was excited to get away from my parents presumably for good after high school, college was a new form of hell. The sudden, dramatic change in environment and lack of ANY preparation for living like an adult on my own caused me to mentally/socially/emotionally malfunction. I had outbursts I desperately tried to suppress, I felt stupid because everybody sounded smarter than me, I didn't actually want to go to art school but wasn't smart enough for anything else and never really bothered to better my artistic skills and thus felt like I shouldn't be there anyways, I struggled to fit in better, I had no idea how to function that certain habits such as neglect of my own dishes on my desk developed because I LITERALLY COULD NOT SEE MY OWN MESSES DUE TO THE STRESS I WAS EXPERIENCING. This was 3 or 4 long YEARS of this.

Attending art classes mostly run by very demanding (and demeaning) teachers while my art skills weren't up to par added to this stress on top of me not actually wanting to be THERE in the first place, just away from my parents.

I nearly ruined a friendship with a roommate because of my struggles. I'm not even sure if she is aware of my Autism because I'm afraid to approach her about it for some reason.

Plenty of times throughout my life where I'm loud and don't even realize it.

I've info-dumped on my parents, but right now they half or completely ignore me.

I've tried making eye contact, but it's like staring in the sun not in the sense of pain, but in the sense of by natural reaction looking away. When I force myself to make eye contact, I'm spending so much focus and effort into doing that to the point where I am unable to pay attention to what the person is saying. Instead, I stare at the mouth so I make sure I hear correctly the words they're telling me.

Each time someone is mad at me and gives me the silent treatment, and I inquire what I did to piss them off, they get madder because I'm somehow supposed to immediately know when I fucking don't. Then, half the time, they continue not telling me and I have to hear it from someone else. This further confuses me as to why they don't just simply fucking tell me.

I've annoyed people to listening to the same one or few songs over and over again. A lot (currently obsessed with the Sunset Overdrive and Tank Girl movie soundtracks).

I can "smell" the heat outside on a summer day.

I can smell other people's unique scents sometimes (especially when in someone's house; also experienced this in other people's dorms).

I can't remember what grade this was, but in high school, we went to some kind of space camp facility thing, and our class was split into two groups: one group was the group who was on Mars and ready to come home, the other was on Earth and can't wait to go to Mars. I was in the former group. My job in this little fun display interactive room thing was to examine the isotopes and report... uh.. I can't remember.. Report something that was off. Everyone else was dicking around with what they're supposed to do, and I was actually doing my job, and then said something, like I was supposed to, if I found something that was off (I don't remember the specifics). When the scientist who worked at the facility praised me on "saving the crew," I caught this look from the entire class a look I can't quite describe other than they didn't seem to like the fact that I did a good thing and was being praised for it instead of any of them (or they were shocked that a "dumb girl" like me could achieve this and get praise for it, I don't know.. hard to tell). This was a science class field trip, but despite this, I didn't have an interest in space, and still didn't feel I was smart. (Come to think of it, I think this was actually an 8th grade field trip, I can't remember.)

Just discovered this today: I'm actually very easily overwhelmed that could trigger a meltdown when I wake up. I don't know for how long until that point passes, either. But this could also be explained with how I've reacted to certain alarm clocks (the ones with the bells just induce pure rage in me). Either I will be on the verge of a meltdown or I'll have a fucking headache all day. Normally, I just wanna drink my coffee and either read or practice a little on Duolingo.

I don't always have enough room for a lot of info in my head for things that I like, so I have to carefully narrow shit down. Right now, I'm trying to figure out what to do about my urge to get my hands on some monster movies while making sure nothing else I've retained info for wanes. Not sure if this is due to stress or what. But apparently I have designated compartments for certain categories in my brain. If I get into monster movies, continue to work on my knwoledge on ecology and paleontology, and gain more knowledge about arachnids, that shouldn't impede on the "language" category, so whatever I learn in Russian will remain safe.

Interest "Webs."

I have what I'd like to call an "interest web." My special interests in one thing can lead me to having an interest in another. I care about nature, and I also care about paleontology. Paleoecology is something I'd like to dip my toes into. But because this all involves nature, I have an interest in botany (though it's still intimidating so I'm sticking with local native trees) and arachnids (after conquering my fears and learning more about them). So the web stops at arachnids there (no pun intended).

Back to ecology and paleoecology...

I have a major interest in the Pleistocene because it was just before we humans started writing shit down. Hints of that era echoes within our current environment, from the pronghorn being "unnecessarily" fast (due to miracynonyx, the "American cheetah," which is now an extinct cat) to avocados not seeding like they should without human assistance as well as the yucca trees (Joshua trees) going into retreat thanks to the absence of giant ground sloths.

But the planet is warming, and we could use all the help from plants that we get, especially when it comes to making sure that permafrost stays frozen. So there's this "Pleistocene Park" project taking place in Russia, and one day, if I get into the field of paleontology, I may want to chat with those involved in that project, but one can't expect every other country to know English.

There's also FROZEN PLEISTOCENE MEGAFAUNA CARCASSES BEING FOUND IN PERMAFROST, too.

On top of all of this, Russia's northern lands will become habitable for humans if shit hits the fan and the planet's mostly fucked, so it's still nice to know the language.

See how all of these interests intertwine? (It also helps that since I am of Serbian heritage but can't find accessible resources to learn the language and I wanna know a Slavic language that Russian is kind of accessible. It also seems to be the only Slavic language "commonly" found in colleges when it comes to foreign language courses.) This is why I call them "interest webs." Not sure if other Autistic people have them, but it's something that I have.

The second one could simply involve Halloween, punk, goth, monsters, and teratophilia with Halloween being the gateway because my favorite color is orange.

Just thought this would be a fun thing to touch on real quick.

My Sensory Traits

I do experience some sensory traits, but they're not intense like some people would assume (unless I'm simply not noticing how intense they can be).

I can "smell" the summer heat, which was something I thought everybody else experienced but I'm wrong.

My retinas hurt in bright sunlight despite not looking anywhere near the sun, which I also thought everybody else experienced.

Drinks taste different or off in some way if they're not in a particular mug, glass, etc. that the drink is supposed to be in. (I have certain mugs that I enjoy my coffee in, but the other mugs? They taste off. I can't explain why. I have ONLY TWO acceptable little tumbler glasses for orange juice.)

Breakfast food does not taste like breakfast food unless it's on this one specific plate from my childhood.

Dinner can be iffy on certain plates, but the safest go-to is the knock-off blue willow plates.

Lunch is acceptable on anything, but if I'm having simply a sandwich, it must be on a small plate.

I have specific forks I'd prefer to use because of how they feel in my hand, how the food-part feels in my mouth, and how the fork itself tastes.

Gotta have cinnamon in my coffee. I just do. It's not coffee without it.

I cannot fucking handle hair snippets of any size for any reason on my body. This is why there is a rigid procedure to where my husband must buzz my hair over a paper-towel-covered sink (to avoid clogging the drain) while wearing a particular tanktop Harley Quinn night shirt, and then I must shower immediately afterwards. During the haircut, my skin itches like mad like I'm being poked by the hairs directly even in places where hair snippets have never, ever gone.

I'm overly sensitive to the cold to the point of pain, especially in my fingers and toes.

Also cannot brush teeth with cold water because it's so painful (this was LONG before I had dental issues and persists to this day). Even my tongue hurts from it.

I'm picky as fuck with candy. Trick-or-treating was sometimes difficult because all I cared about was either orange-flavored stuff, or chocolate. Only specific chocolates, too (Krackle, Mr. Goodbar, Crunch, Butterfinger, Reese's, that was it.) Skittles were okay, but a lot of the baggies I got had a LOT the red ones and the red ones suck. Can't stand the other candies. (But my tastes have changed since then, and I opt for European chocolate from Aldi's as they are far superior, especially Moser Roth's 70% dark chocolate and Choceur's coffee and cream chocolate.)

Speaking of candy, the Whopper's Robin's Eggs tasted better than regular Whoppers and I will never be able to explain why.

Despite loving orange flavored stuff, I have trust issues when I see an unlabeled orange candy because there's the dangerous chance it could be fucking peach flavored. *gag* (I like real peaches, but the artificial flavored ones suck balls.) Due to my dental situation, I cannot enjoy very much in a way of candy, and the only artificial orange flavoring I CAN enjoy is through Vitamin D gummies... And even then, EVEN THEN I have to worry about the fucking peach flavors if I have to go with a different brand because we can't get our hands on a bottle from Simple Truth.

Artificial cherry flavoring is death.

The ONLY flavored medicine that was acceptable to me was orange (of course) and those dissolving strips that were grape-flavored that they don't fucking make anymore because fuck me that's why. Everything else was peer-pressured to do shots kiddie edition.

The different colored coatings on M&M's taste different from one another and I cannot explain why. It's very subtle, hardly noticeable, BUT I CAN TELL.

Peanutbutter is fucking amazing.

The smell of peanutbutter is fucking not.

There are these frozen meals my husband gets for days he doesn't have energy to cook and one of them (all from the same brand) smells like fucking hell.

My husband's Nissan Cup Noodle ramen overpowers my incense despite what other household members say.

I love incense, especially dragonsblood, "coffee time," pumpkin spice, raven, and rain.

All of the autumn scents or scents associated with autumn are orgasmic to me.

The smell of artificial cherry is death.

I would love to have perfume or body spray of Play-Doh.

I can compare smells of some places to others, such as the library branch I frequent smells like my gradeschool, as do SOME of their books' pages, and when my husband and I walked through this hall-like tunnel-like storefront in downtown Pittsburgh, I said it smelled like my grandma's basement, and he thought the same, so we're in aggreeance that all grandma's basements smell the same. Except for my Baba and Deda's. Their basement smelled like they actually still enjoy life and had their shit together.

Speaking of gradeschool smells, my gradeschool had two directions of classrooms, one led towards the gym, but the hall off to the side was carpeted, had some nice colors, and held 2 kindergarten classes and 2 first grade classes. That section of the building had its distinctive smells. The other direction led to the office, the cafeteria, and the hall with the 2 classes of grades 2 through 5 plus the preschool and the art/music class was. The smell was different in all classes EXCEPT for the music/art class, and I never went to preschool so I wouldn't know what that smells like.

ALL PRINCIPLE OFFICES SMELL THE SAME. HOW.

I could smell when my husband accidentally put in cinnamon when he thought he grabbed paprika in a dish that I liked. He was terrified of telling me. That was a happy accident and it became a permanent ingredient. He was mortified and shocked that I could smell his whoopsie in my dinner he made me.

I can also smell the cinnamon they use in Little Caeser's pizza crust. Yes. They use cinnamon. But I was the only one to notice.

Honey is like peanutbutter: it tastes amazing. But holy shit fuck that smell.

Gas stations smell like death, sadness, and questioning life's choices.

No two people's car interiors smell alike.

I can smell when it will rain soon, especially if it's about to storm.

I'm the one who noticed that hairy white oldfield asters smell like cake batter.

Dominant yellow filling my entire vision can be sometimes painful.

I used to be able to "hear" the color yellow in my head so much I thought yellow actually made a noise. It was a particular shade of yellow, and it made this Playskool toy-like clicking bell ringing noise, but really obnoxiously, almost painfully. I don't know how to describe the shade other than "cloudy pastel lemon?" It looked like the fucking lemon-flavored medicine I had to take as a kid.

My parents tried mixing in this cherry flavored death medicine in with my orange soda thinking I wouldn't know the difference but I did, so I dumped it down the drain and opened a new can because that can of Big K orange was fucking ruined.

Orange is wonderful to my eyes. But it's a hard color for me to find when it comes to getting things in a particular color. My back-up colors are red, green, and purple.

The sunlight hurts my retinas, even when I'm not looking at the sky at all, but the pain intensity increases the further I look up on a sunny summer day. This has been like this since childhood. Prescriptive sunglasses shouldn't be fucking expensive and should be covered by healthcare insurance.

I have to try really FUCKING hard not to stare at someone's muscles in person because ugh... Good thing I rarely see anybody who's well-built. (No really, this isn't even really a sexual thing, I'm so fucking fascinated and once I realize "oh, so that particular muscle looks like that from that angle", I get a glimmer of hope that I MIGHT be able to draw something humanoid since I suck at drawing people.)

Orange trees as so pleasing to the eye, and these are much more socially acceptable to stare at, lest I'm in person and the property owner might think I'm plotting to steal some (luckily I've never been anywhere near a place that grows orange trees).

Neon lights are amazing and I want them to come the fuck back. I swear, stores were so much more enjoyable of an environment when they were common. Such lights improve my mood in a way I cannot describe. I'm no longer in a hurry to get home if I am in the presence of neon lights.

Sunny days during winter are painful because the sunlight reflects off the snow. I'm painfully blinded if I look outside or go anywhere.

I cannot handle the sight of someone having boogers/snot hanging from their nose, not the sight of someone vomiting, nor the sight of an syringe needle piercing flesh.

I cannot handle the sound of alarm clock bells. I have woken up in a rage and been in a bad mood I try so hard to suppress for a good portion of the day. If I hear an alarm clock bell now these days, I wanna take it and chuck it across the room regardless the time of day or if I'm already awake. It's not so bad if I hear it from a video. In person? That's starting a war with me.

Children crying or screaming (especially babies) are almost painful to me and triggers my fight-or-flight response.

The reason why I was the loudest mellophone player in marching band was to drown out hearing the fucking trumpets. And I did; I was louder than the trumpets. (I quit marching band my sophomore year but for different reasons.)

Much of the music from the 80s that gave it that sound that definitely said it's from the 80s is very pleasing to my ears.

I love punk music for its messages, lyrics, and energy, but goth always puts me into a headspace where I feel like I'm at home; I'm at peace and want to cuddle the monster under my bed.

However, some punk songs can hit deep or strong and live rent-free in my head, such as Anti-Flag's "Racist," Bikini Kill's "Rebel Girl," and Skarpretter's "Nazi Scum."

One particular artist's voice I cannot get over because his is the first voice of any kind that makes me wanna fan myself is Peter Steele of Type O Negative. My favorite song, however, is "All Hallow's Eve" because his voice, the subject, and the lyrical content.

I'm able to hear something off in the oscillating fan my husband likes to use before he notices it.

I'm the one who can hear coyotes at night (doesn't help my mom wants to blast westerns to drown out the world and I'm back here in my room away from that shit though).

I can hear the branches scraping against the house, gently making creepy noises before I realize what the fuck it is, BUT NOBODY ELSE HEARS IT.

I can recognize the call of a robin because we had so many at the house I grew up in, and nobody else in this family fucking noticed.

I tend to notice the sound of the rain over all the house noise first.

I don't like tight clothing, which is why I prefer bralettes because my tits hurt.

If I could, I'd go without the bra because the band can sometimes suddenly feel tighter than it actually is, but because I have large nipples, I kinda need that bra for a bit of protection.

Shorts can be tight around the crotch, hip joins, and lower belly region, and that's a big no-no for me.

I'd prefer baggy pants, honestly.

Can't have tight footwear. No.

The seam at the top of socks or tights hurt my pinky toes if the whole sock/tights shift that way.

I already covered the hair snippet thing so since this is the sense of touch, another body hair thing is I kinda don't wanna shave my pits anymore because they are extremely itchy when they grow back. HAVE to shave my crotch because if I don't it gets horribly itchy, and my thick, fast-growing hair weaves into underwear, gets caught in pads, etc.

Ah yes. Pads. I hate them, but they're far more acceptable than a tampon or a cup because I have vaginismus.

Certain fabric textures are itchy as hell. There's a black shirt I have whose collar and cuffs are gorgeous but I have to wear something underneath to avoid feeling itchy.

Winter is hell for me here in the midwest, as I am very susceptible to the cold to the point of pain, especially in my fingers and toes. I become very slow, too. I feel like I can't get warm enough most of the time.

Air conditioned places in the summer feel almost similar, so I don't always wear shorts if I'm expected to go into, say, a Walmart with my husband to pick up everything. I'll shiver.

(We're gonna get into TMI territory here.) Can't masturbate by hand unless I've got a nitrile glove on because my brain only focuses on what my fingers are touching more than what my cunt feels.

Can't have any sex with my husband without anything brighter than low-light because things can be visually distracting in the room, or lights can suddenly feel way too bright to me. (Halloween string lights or those LED rope lights with adjustable brightness features and colors are excellent for this situation.)

In Conclusion

This is all that I've figured out so far. None of this hit me at once as a realization when I figured out that I'm Autistic. This took a while to realize it, and the realizations were mostly at random times through examples of other people experiencing it on the internet or through me going, "Huh, is that an Autistic trait?"

There may be even more that I'm currently unaware of or have forgotten to type here.

I apologize for how extremely lengthy this was. This took all day to type because of having to get up and do other things that needed to be done. One of the reasons why I really wanted to type this is because it's much easier to organize this on a computer, and I am absolutely shit at organizing files on my computer.

Unfortunately, while my husband is wonderful in supporting me, my parents aren't exactly all that great at it. Especially my dad, who is either vaguely dismissive or outright "forgets" that I'm Autistic (he honestly just... doesn't care, and tries to make things convenient for him at the expense of others most of the time). My mom... I'm not real sure. There are times where she seems to remember and others where she doesn't. I'm honestly wondering if they don't like knowing that I'm Autistic because that means my brother would have been as his traits were far more obvious than mine.

I hope that whoever is questioning whether or not they're Autistic has found this helpful at least in the sense that it would point you in the right direction on where to go next, but I would highly recommend checking out online Autistic communities, as that's where I've discovered that I'm on the spectrum.

#autism #asperger's #adhd #special interests #sensory traits #autistic traits #sorry for how long this is

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gamergirl929 · 4 years

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She Was A Skater Girl (Tobin Heath x Reader)

Anonymous Request: Heyy, just loved it your new imagine with tobin and i know your requests are closed, so maybe when you have time, could you write one with tobin and skater!reader?

The breeze was relatively nice considering it was so humid out, but you didn’t care, all that mattered was that your skateboard was beneath your feet.

Portland streets were busy at this time, a number of people on their morning commutes, everyone rushing to get to work.

All that rushing, luckily for you, hadn’t been a big deal for you, but sadly, it was ABOUT to be.

“HEY!” Someone shouts, your eyes widening when someone lays on their horn.

You attempt to screech to a halt, but you quickly realize you can’t do so fast enough.

You instead fling yourself backwards off your board and land back first on the road with a violent thud, watching as the woman's car flies towards the intersection.

You watch sadly as your board rolls in front of the fast-moving car, being crushed by its tires as it flies by, the woman not even stopping to check on the person she'd just nearly ran over.

You wince in pain, resting your head on the road beneath you.

“Are you okay!?” A woman asks, dropping down on the ground beside you and you groan.

“No...” You grimace as you sit up, yelling down the road where the woman had driven off.

“YOU BITCH! THAT WAS MY ONLY BOARD!” You scream at the car as you rub the back of your head, your head that’s covered in a hot sticky fluid you realize is your own blood.

You hadn’t even remembered hitting your head.

“Ow. Shit.” You grimace, your eyes fluttering closed.

“Keep your eyes open, an ambulance is on the way.”

The woman’s soft voice makes your eyes flutter open, your brows furrowing as you look a the woman hovering above you, your eyes widening.

“Holy shit, you’re Tobin Heath.”

You, again, sit up, your vision dotted with black spots as your head starts to spin.

“Here, lie back.” Tobin says again, this time your head meeting something soft instead of the hard concrete.

You turn to her with a smile.

“You’re really pretty.” You murmur, groaning at the pain in your head, missing the noticeable blush on Tobin’s cheeks.

“Wait!” You yell, trying to sit up again.

“Where’s my board?” You whine, your vision blurring as someone comes into view, carrying the two pieces of your board.

“That was my only board.” You whine louder.

“I think you need to worry more about your head right now.” Tobin guides you back down, the woman grimacing when she sees blood coming out of your ear.

“Just, don’t move okay?” She places a hand on your chest and you hum.

“I’ve had that board forever.” You pout, Tobin shaking her head.

“A board can be replaced.”

You shake your head.

“Not that one, it was the only board I had when I started making vids.” You sigh, glancing at the woman.

“You know some things can’t be replaced.”

The sound of sirens makes your head ache and you grimace.

“Why are they so loud?” You mumble and Tobin winces.

“You took a pretty hard hit.”

Tobin frowns when you start to mumble, words slurring into an incoherent mumble.

“Get my board, yeah?” You slur the forward nodding as EMTs rush your way, surrounding you.

Tobin is able to get the two halves of your board before she’s back at your side, frowning as EMTs get you onto a backboard, incoherent mumbles leaving your open mouth.

Though what Tobin CAN make out is her name, before you fall silent, losing consciousness.

***

The first thing you feel when you regain consciousness is pain, a throbbing pain in your head that makes you grimace, the insistent beeping of a machine nearby making you growl.

“Damn.” You murmur as you shift, your back aching from the impact of slamming to the concrete.

“Hey.” You hear a familiar voice, your brows furrowing as your eyes crack open.

“Have you seen my board?” You ask, Tobin snorting as she nods to the corner of the room where your broken board is resting.

“Did they find the driver?” You yawn, Tobin shaking her head as she moves to sit in the chair beside your bed.

“No, but they’re looking.” She frowns and you growl.

“She owes me some compensation for my board.”

Tobin snorts.

“You remember she almost killed you, right?” She asks and you shrug.

“Yeah, maybe.”

Tobin shakes her head, eyes widening when she hears a familiar voice.

“Holy shit, you didn’t tell me the skateboarder was fucking Y/N Y/L/N.” The blonde squeals and you wince, your head throbbing.

“THE Emily Sonnett knowns ME? Fucking sick.” You grin.

“Wait... You know her?” Tobin points at you and smirk.

“WELL YEAH. Emily snorts. “This is Y/N Y/L/N one of the best influencers on Insta.” Emily claps her hands giddily, frowning when she sees your board in the corner, completely snapped in half.

“Aww, no...” She frowns, walking towards it, taking the two halves in her hands.

“You’re an influencer?” Tobin asks, brown orbs wide and you nod.

“So that’s what you meant by videos earlier.”

You nod.

“Tobin? Are you in here?”

Your eyes widen when Christen Press rounds the corner, the forward’s green orbs widening when she sees you.

“Y/N Y/L/N is the skater from this morning!?” She stares at you in awe and you snicker.

“Seriously? You know me too?” You ask, the forward nodding in excitement.

“Chrissyyyyyyy!” Emily whines holding the two halves of your board up with a pout.

“Oh no...” She frowns, turning back towards you. “Sorry about your board, are you okay?”

You shrug.

“It’s okay, could be worse I guess... And I have no idea, no one’s told me.”

Just as the words leave your mouth, a woman in a white lab coat walks in, smiling softly.

“Good afternoon Ms. Y/L/N, how are you feeling?” She asks as she checks the machines next to your bed and you grimace.

“Not great doc, not great.”

“I imagine so, you’ve got a skull fracture.” Your eyes widen, as do Tobin, Emily and Christen’s.

“Does that mean I can’t skate?” You ask, Tobin turning to you with wide eyes.

“No, you can’t.” She growls and you huff.

“Why not?”

You stiffen.

“Wait, where’s my phone?” You ask, glancing around the room, frowning when you see it too by your board, shattered.

“How will my followers know what happened?” You pout and Emily hums, looking at her own phone.

“Apparently they already do.”

Emily passes you her phone, your eyes narrowing as you read the screen.

Influencer Y/N Y/L/N involved in an accident in Portland, Oregon

You scroll further down the page.

Y/N, Instagram Influencer injured in a near hit and run collision in Portland, Oregon

You shake your head.

“Well now I have to let my followers know I’m okay.” You shake your head. “Leaving them on a cliffhanger like this is some damn ABC TV show.”

Tobin shakes her head, passing you her phone.

“Here.”

You put your palms together, ducking down as you bow to her.

“My hero.”

Needless to say, the second you’re logged into Insta you go to post, taking a picture of yourself, noticeable scuff marks on your face.

You type a quick caption, your tongue poking out of the corner of your mouth as you focus on posting, missing the small smile that stretches across Tobin’s face.

“I’m sure you guys have seen the news about the accident, I’m okay, but they still haven’t caught the driver.”

You frown, glancing at your broken board.

“Doc says I have a skull fracture and my back is pretty messed up... Unfortunately, she ran over my board, so I won’t be skating for a while, mostly because of the skull fracture, but whatever, I’ll keep you guys updated.”

You glance around the room, smiling when you see Christen, Emily and Tobin sitting around, Emily still pouting over your broken board.

“I’d like to thank, Tobin Heath, yes, USWNT forward Tobin Heath, for helping me after the accident as well as Christen Press and Emily Sonnett for coming in for a visit, mostly for Tobin, but still, FUCKIN’ SICKKKKKK.”

You make the post and make your way to Twitter to make a similar post, quickly realizing you’re trending on Twitter.

“I’ve only ever trended twice on Twitter, once for skating in a mall down the escalator and running from security, and now.” You sigh.

“Awesome.”

You pass Tobin her phone back, smiling softly as the woman grins.

“I really have to thank you for being there for me this morning. If it wasn’t for you, I probably would’ve chased after her.” You snort, Tobin throwing her head back with a laugh.

“I don’t doubt that.”

You smile your eyes searching Tobin’s face.

“Still, I really appreciate it.”

Emily and Christen share a glance, the two smiling as you and Tobin simply stare at one another with lightly flushed cheeks.

You lean back, rubbing the back of your head, groaning loudly.

“You okay?” Christen asks and you whine.

“My boarddddddddd...” You pout, Tobin shaking her head.

Emily takes your board and brings it to the bed, handing you the two pieces.

“Maybe, ummmm, tape?” She suggests, shrugging and you shake your head.

“I don’t think it’ll work this time.” You frown as you examine the splintered wood. “Well, it didn’t work LAST time to be honest, I ended up breaking my leg.”

“You have a lot of accidents, don’t you?” Tobin teases and you roll your eyes.

“Accidents are a huge part of skating.” You smirk.

“But when you finally hit the move it’s so fucking sick.” You nod with a grin, remembering how you’d landed the trick after your leg had healed, on a solid, break free board.

“Wait, you didn’t trend when you skated off that condo’s roof?” Emily asks and you shake your head, the woman scoffing.

“That’s dumb, and it wasn’t even your house!”

Tobin watches you and Emily talk intently about your past tricks and run ins with the law, the woman smiling when you let out a belly shaking laugh, that laugh making you wince, your back and head throbbing.

The more you talk, the more Tobin notes that your eyelids start to flutter as you visibly fight off sleep.

Tobin shakes her head.

“You should rest.” She whispers and you grunt.

“I don’t want to...” You pout, earning an eye roll from the forward.

“Well you need to.” She says, eyes narrowed and your eyes widen.

“She’s right.” Christen says as she moves to her feet.

You huff, sending Tobin a mock glare.

“Fine. Fine.”

Tobin is about to turn away when you catch her wrist, the woman turning to look at you thoughtfully.

“I-I want to thank you, I really appreciate you helping me today, and uhhhh, coming here with me.” You shrug bashfully, cheeks dusted pink.

“It meant a lot to me.”

Tobin smiles, covering your hand with her own.

“It was the right thing to do.” She says, her own cheeks flushing. “And I was worried.”

Your tired eyes widen, your cheeks flushing darker at the thought of the woman worrying about you.

Christen's green orbs dart between the two of you before she clears her throat, pulling the two of you out of your trance.

“Uhhh....” Tobin starts, the woman clearing her own throat. “I’ll call to check on you later, okay?” She says and you nod, letting out a yawn.

“S-Sounds good.” You say as you tiredly wave at Emily and Christen.

“It was great meeting you all, still can’t believe I met you guys.” You yawn.

Moments after the words leave your mouth you doze off, Emily, Christen and Tobin watching you with small smiles, Tobin’s cheeks still flushed.

The forward turns around, eyes widening when she sees the looks on Emily and Christen’s faces.

“What?” She gripes, glancing over her shoulder at you once more before she moves out of the room, her two teammates on her heels.

“Why are your cheeks red Toby?” Emily teases, and Tobin growls.

“They aren’t.” She dismisses her and Christen snorts.

“Yes, they are.”

Tobin growls louder, practically sprinting away from the two of them, Christen and Emily giggling.

“How much do you want to bet she’ll come back to visit her?” Emily smirks and Christen nods.

“Oh, she will.”

***

Much as the two had anticipated, Tobin had come back to the hospital, though this time, she had a gift, something she knew you would love.

Christen had agreed as well, of course, teasing Tobin about heading back to the hospital to see you.

Tobin had of course brushed her off, but in all honesty, Tobin had felt something when she met you, that twisting in her gut, her heart lightening in her chest.

She wanted to know more about you, and she’d been lying if she hadn’t spent most the night learning about you, as well as watching your videos and looking at all your posts.

In fact, she’d lost sleep because of it.

That didn’t matter to her though, what mattered was learning more about you, and what she learned was that you were a shy, yet charismatic and bold person.

A woman who’d taken up skating at a young age and had even caught the eye of famous skaters like Tony Hawk, among others.

You were kind hearted, someone that anyone who looked at your images and videos with kids could see, as well as anyone who’d read or watched any of your interviews.

You were humble about your fame, and the way you talked told Tobin you didn’t really care for the fame, you just wanted to do what you loved, and that was skate.

The closer she gets to your hospital room, the more her nerves rile up, the woman nervous about seeing you again.

She’d be lying if she said she didn’t notice the way your eyes shined when you talked about skating, the way your smile brightened when talking about it and the way you’d ramble shyly during interviews.

Tobin comes to a stop in front of your hospital room, the woman curtly nodding to herself, gathering her courage before she knocks on the door.

Tobin frowns when she gets no response, the woman peeking through the gap in the door to see you’re fast asleep, mouth hanging open as you snore softly.

She pushes into the room quietly, tip toeing to the bed, the woman grinning when you grumble in your sleep.

“Maybe I should come back later...” She mumbles to herself, ready to turn around and leave, that is, until your eyes flutter open tiredly.

“Toby?” You rasp, voice rough from sleep, as you stretch, not even realizing that you’d called Tobin, Toby.

“Hey.” She moves towards the bed with a smile, smiling at the bleary look on your face.

“Am I dreaming?” You ask, yawning.

Tobin snorts.

“No, you’re not.”

You grin.

“SO, that means you came back to see me?” You give her a charming smile and she rolls her eyes, sitting in the chair beside your bed.

“I guess I did.” She grins and you smirk.

“Couldn’t get enough of me?” You ask cockily and she hums.

“Oh I’m getting there.” She teases and you grin, brows furrowing when you see the box resting in Tobin’s lap.

“What you got there?” You ask curiously, the forward grinning.

“It’s for you.”

You blink rapidly, brows furrowing.

“Wait, for me?” You say, the woman nodding.

You shake your head.

“You didn’t have to buy me anything...” Your bottom lip trembles as Tobin slowly opens the box, your eyes wide when you see its contents.

“I didn’t. I made it.”

Your eyes go glassy, mouth agape as you stare at the board Tobin holds up, the skate board covered in a mosh of colors, the bottom colored in exactly the same way.

“Wait... This is...” You brush your thumbs along the smooth board.

“This is A Popsicle Skateboard...” You whisper, turning to her with a trembling bottom lip.

Tobin smiles, reaching for and placing a hand on the board beside your own.

“Actually, it’s not just a Popsicle Board...” She grins. “It’s the original.”

Your eyes widen, a lump forming in your throat as you scan the board again, though, this time your hand slides down the board, your fingertips brushing Tobin’s.

“A-Are you sure?” You whisper, the forward smiling softly, surprising you and herself when she pushes your fingers apart, her fingers intertwining with yours.

Your cheeks flush, your eyes darting from your tangled finger to Tobin’s face, back and forth until your eyes again lock with Tobin’s brown orbs, her cheeks dusted pink.

Her lips split into a grin.

“I’m sure.”

#uswnt x reader #tobin heath x reader #tobin heath imagine

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