#imagine my shock when my coworker told me that [place we work at] goes in to put breaks we didn't get to take on our time cards (sarcastic)

[uncanny-tranny]

I hear a lot about "time theft," but I always wonder if there's an equivalent concept for a company or corporation which lies about their employees receiving their due breaks

[immersed-in-mischief]

Prince Charming (Loki x Female Reader)- Part 2

I was too excited to wait any longer before posting part 2! This part is pretty long but it didn’t feel right to split it anywhere. Over 3k words! 

Summary: Things with Chaos begin to develop pretty quickly now that Loki his preoccupied with is new girl.

Warnings: none, just fluff 

 "Nice of you to join us, Sleeping Beauty!”

10 minutes late. Chaos had certainly accepted the challenge, alright. The sun was already peeking through the building outside your window when the two of you called it a night. Could it still be calling it a night when it wasn’t night anymore though? You had lost track of time in the shower replaying the conversation over again. The lack of hot water quickly brought you back to reality and you grabbed the closest outfit you could reach and threw your hair up in a bun as you raced to the conference room. You noticed Loki giving you a confused stare from across the table. He pretended to pay attention while typing a message out to you from his tablet.

L.Laufeyson: You’re staring off into space and grinning like a mad man. Stop it. It makes you look creepy.

You rolled your eyes and stuck your tongue out at him when Rogers turned his back to face the screen.

Who are you calling creepy? I know you only pay attention to the parts about hostile takedowns. Maybe I just really enjoy 7am mission briefings. You don’t know me as well as you think you do Mischief!

When Tony shared a look between you and Loki from his end of the table, you both put the tablets down and made a better attempt to pay attention. You tried to quietly hide your yawn. Maybe you could sneak in a nap later since you hadn’t actually gotten a wink of sleep.

Over the next few weeks, you not only talked to Chaos every night you weren’t away for a mission, the two of you had begun to exchange a few messages throughout the day as well when you both weren’t busy with work. Since you weren’t really hanging out with Loki much anymore, it was a welcomed distraction. You had come across him on his phone on several occasions with his book carelessly discarded somewhere nearby. He always seemed to get frustrated with you when you interrupted his reading so this girl must really be special to him. One afternoon, you swore you heard him sigh after putting his phone away. It felt like a punch to the gut. If he even noticed that you hadn’t had one of your movie nights or dinners together in nearly a month, it didn’t seem to bother him. It just gave you more excuses to return the flirtatious advances from Chaos. You couldn’t say that you were really fighting it all that hard though. It may have started out as a distraction, but it felt really good to feel wanted by someone again. Being head over heels for your best friend, coworker, and pretty much roommate makes dating kind of difficult.

With Rogers away on a mission, you cut training a few minutes short to hurry back to your room. A huge grin slowly spread to see the light in the corner of your tablet flashing. Even though it was hard, you resisted the huge to check the message and made yourself shower and change first. Once you were changed into your pajamas for the night, you curled up on the corner of the sofa in your room and slid the screen on.

Dove, I know you won’t see this until late this evening, but I didn’t want to wait another second to tell you that I truly missed our talks the last several nights while I was away. I’m anxiously counting down the minutes until you arrive home from work. You’ve quickly become my favorite part of my day

This guy knew exactly what to say to make you swoon. Part of you was glad he couldn’t see how often he made you blush. You noticed the message was sent just before you returned to your room and Chaos was still logged in.

What if you didn’t have to wait until late this evening?

The fact that he was immediately responding made you smile. Although it was foolish to believe the guy would be staring at the computer waiting for you, it still gave you butterflies when he was so eager to talk to you.

I’d say that’s the best news I’ve heard all day. Not that I’m not excited to see you online, but don’t you still have a few hours of work left, darling?

Grabbing a blanket off the back of the couch, you snuggled up on the couch with the charger for your tablet placed within reach.

Boss is out of town, so I cut out early today. Curling up at home to watch the rain while talking to my favorite person sounded better anyways 😉

Your secret is safe with me. Rainy afternoons curled up with a good book is on my list of favorite things, though speaking with you might have recently taken a higher position on said list. Would it be too forward of me to say that I would rather spend a rainy afternoon like this by your side instead of speaking through an electronic device?

There it goes again. You feel the heat on your cheeks as you bite your lip to control the grin on your face.

Were you really on a business trip or were you just spending time thinking of things to say to make me blush? Not that I’m complaining really. To answer your question, no it wouldn’t be too forward. I was thinking the same just now actually…

You always know how to make me laugh. Unfortunately, I’m not that smooth. I truly was away for business. I can’t help but wonder now how often I cause a blush to form on your cheeks. Maybe that will be my new mission, though it would not be a fruitful endeavor without seeing it in person. I’m sure it’s adorable

Not that smooth? I beg to differ! The number of times you make me absolutely swoon tells a different story. In order to keep my dignity, I won’t disclose what that number actually is at the moment. Let’s just say you must read classical literature and Shakespeare on a regular basis because it shows. Enough of my blushing and swooning! So, Chaos, if we were to be face to face on a rainy afternoon like this, how would we spend it? Not that I am assessing your dating skills or anything… or am I?

The fact that I make you blush and swoon often is quite flattering actually. I was raised somewhat old-fashioned I guess you could say. I was taught that a woman should be treated as a princess and that anything less is disrespectful. I guess you could thank my mother for that. If I’m being completely transparent, you tend to cause me to “blush and swoon” quite often as well, Dove. The feelings you stir within me make it nearly impossible to not let a smile grace my lips at the very thought of you…

Now that I’m sure I have a blush once again residing on your cheeks, I believe you inquired about my dating skills in a not-so-subtle way… Given the honor to have you accompany me on a date on a rainy afternoon such as this, I would say that a visit to a secondhand bookstore would be in order. I of course have a few around the city I like to frequent already. I would enjoy the opportunity to discover what books captured your attention and compare our favorites. Once we had found a few treasures and picked out at least one for the other to enjoy, we would find a place to sit and converse, just like we do here already. A quiet corner of a coffee shop would be a preferred place of mine. It would give us the chance to people watch as well. We could even make up stories about their lives and what we thought their day had entailed. If you didn’t feel it to be too intimate for such a date, I wouldn’t be opposed to finding a quiet place to curl up together to watch the rain and sit and read together.

I admit that I’m now quite curious, Darling. How does my answer fair in your assessment that you may or may not be performing on my ability to court?

You reread his answer a few times before you remembered that you now needed to write back. How could you be so flustered over….words? Now seemed like a good time to run to the kitchen for a snack. Something told you that you had already decided exactly how you wished to spend your evening.

As you made yourself a hot tea and let yourself imagine what a date like that with him would be like, you looked up to see Nat and Wanda standing there staring at you.

“I’m sorry. What did you say?”

They shared a look before turning back to you.

“Nat, I think our girl just literally floated into the room. She also hasn’t stopped smiling for days now. Could it possibly have anything to do with this mystery guy that you keep dashing away to talk to on your tablet possibly?”

Wanda and Nat laughed as they stood and waited for their answer. Nat was even more forward.

“It’s no secret. You charge that tablet nearly three times a day now. When are you just going to meet him already? You obviously are already completely smitten with each other. It’s written all over your face and if he is making you look like this all of the time, he must be pretty dreamy.”

You willed the kettle to heat up faster to escape this conversation.

“I don’t know. Maybe we will meet up at some point, but things are pretty great right now. What if we meet in person and there is no chemistry?”

Nat came and put a hand on either cheek, holding your head in her hands.

“Sweetie, if this guy was enough to help you forget that you are madly in love with your best friend, then there is zero chance that you two lack chemistry.”

They both laughed at the shocked look on your face. Wanda patted you on the shoulder and whispered as she walked by.

“Yeah, we know about that too. You don’t hide the way you stare at him very well. The only person who can’t see your feelings is Loki.”

Squeezing the bridge of your nose out of frustration, you whispered under your breath.

“Are there no secrets in this building?!”

Wanda seemed to get an idea and turned back around before leaving the kitchen.

“The costume party! That’s how you can meet him in person! Invite him to Tony’s costume party next week. If you don’t feel it in person, you will be in disguise anyways since it’s a masquerade ball! It’s perfect! Your own little fairy tale!”

Just as Nat got excited as well, you put a stop to it.

“Absolutely not! That is so cliché even for you two! Plus, I’m not meeting him for the first time in the lion’s den. That’s just cruel. Get over it. I am not inviting him to Tony’s party, end of discussion.”

“Inviting who?”

Your head whipped around to see Loki standing at the edge of the kitchen. His wet hair formed soft curls against his shoulders and left damp spots on the tight t-shirt that hugged him in all the right places. The sweatpants that hug low on his hips didn’t help stop your breath from quickening. You felt frozen under his gaze.

“Who are you not inviting, Bug?”

Before you could answer, Nat spoke up.

“Her new Boy Toy…”

You shot a warning glare to her before turning back to Loki in time to catch the smirk form on his lips.

“Boy Toy? Is that who has been stealing you away from me? Well then, sit by me tonight for movie night and you can tell me why exactly he is not being invited to Tony’s party.”

“I uh… I can’t tonight.”

He crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes at you.

“Come on Ladybug. I haven’t seen you in days and we both know we haven’t had a movie night in ages. Don’t you love me anymore?”

You unsuccessfully hid the squeak that escaped at his question. The pout he gave you told you that he was joking and not actually acknowledging the fact that you had been head over heels for him for way longer than should be allowed. Just as you tried to come up with anything at all to say, Wanda covered for you.

“She has a date with the Boy Toy.”

He seemed to accept that answer.

“Fine. But I expect you to attend the next one, Bug. Better not keep the Boy Toy waiting now.”

As he turned to head into the living room, the kettle started to whistle, and you let out a sigh of relief. When you finished making your tea and grabbing enough snacks to not have to leave your room anymore tonight, you turned to face them one more time.

“You two better help me find a damn good costume… I can’t believe I’m going to do this.”

They giggled and high fived as you shook your head. On the way back to your room, your mind drifted back to Loki. It was time to move on. At the mention of you dating someone, there was zero trace of jealously or emotion in his face. He didn’t see you like that and he never would. You had a guy that showed genuine interest in you and freely let you know as well. There was no wondering if Chaos wanted something more with you than a casual chat online. Meeting a stranger in person couldn’t be any safer than in a high security tower surrounded by the Avengers.

You took a sip of your tea and smiled at the flashing light on the tablet on the couch beside you.

I hope your silence isn’t an indication of a poor assessment…

Sorry! No not at all! I just stepped away for a minute to get something to eat. Although it is fun to make you sweat it out a little…

To say I’m relieved is an understatement, Dove. I thought maybe I had made you uncomfortable earlier.

Quite the opposite actually. It sounds like the perfect date to be honest. I’m quite the cuddler when given the chance. In fact, I’m curled up with a blanket and a hot tea as we speak…

Then I shall be jealous of said blanket and mug since they get to cuddle with you instead of me… Since we appear to both have the same thoughts as to what constitutes the perfect date, does that mean you find my skills adequate?

I suppose… 😊

So, Chaos, if you’ve already put thought into the two of us on a date, does that mean that you might want more than just exchanging messages online?... now I’m the one worried about being too forward!

 As the bubbles appeared and you waited for a response, you started to regret being so blunt with your questioning.

Darling, I’ve wanted that longer than I care to admit, so no you are not being too forward. I’ve thought about breaching the subject of meeting you in person for some time but could never gather the courage to do so. I’ve honestly never had a connection with someone truly as strong as I feel with you. Is a face-to-face meeting something you might want as well?

Absolutely. I’ve been nervous to bring it up too. I didn’t want to assume that the connection was mutual and end up embarrassing myself. I’ve made the mistake in the past of letting my heart get involved to find out too late that those feelings were not returned. It’s not something I wish to go through more than once.

Dove, I can assure you that is not the case with me. I assure you that any feelings you may have developed are returned tenfold. I have never seen your face or heard your voice, yet you have my heart… Does this mean I will soon get the opportunity to see the effects of this blushing and swooning you speak of with my own eyes?

That is really good to hear and I guess I need to start hiding such effects now… So … there is a reason for my line of questioning actually…

Oh? It that so? Please continue…

I’ve actually been given an invitation to a party at Stark Tower next weekend being hosted by the Avengers. Since we did meet in an Avengers chat room, it seems kind of poetic that we meet up at an event hosted by them.

It really is poetic isn’t it? I’m aware of the event you speak of though I hadn’t planned on attending. I would be willing to reconsider however if I knew that you were in attendance as well. Is it a masquerade ball in fact, is it not?

Yes, everyone attending is expected to be in costume. If I was not only in attendance, but there as your date, would it be enough to help you reconsider?...

More than enough, My Love.

Well, it’s a date then 😊

It would be my honor, Dove. There is still one matter to discuss. If we are both in costume, how exactly will I know when I’ve found you?

Would it be too cliché to attend as Cinderella and Prince Charming? It is a ball after all.

Not at all. In fact, I find it to be quite a romantic gesture to meet my princess for the first time dressed as her Prince Charming. You deserve to have your fairy tale moment, Darling.

So, it’s settled then. Next Saturday. Do you need me to get you put on the guest list?

That won’t be necessary. You aren’t the only one with connections, Love.

[sweetyyhippyy]

Part of You. Spencer Reid x OC! Character. Chapter 12.

Chapter 12: Jealous and Undercover

(Not my gif)

Summary: Hotch has Derek and Bridgett go undercover to catch an unsub in a swingers club. Spencer gets jealous and reminds Bridgett who she is coming home to at the end of the night.

TW: Mentions of murder, talk of partner swapping, jealous Spencer, teasing Spencer (clit playing), unwanted touching, getting attacked by the unsub, more teasing, sexual innuendos. 

Word Count: 3.6k

A.N.: This is season 10 Spencer! Also, I think I’m going to be putting out 2 chapters a week (Saturdays and Wednesdays)! Lets see how it goes first! 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Do you know if Maddy or Kevin had any problems with anyone at their work? Or just anyone in general?” Derek questions the best friend of Maddy, one of the victims in the murder.

The girl sniffles, wiping tears from her eyes. “No. They were both nice, warm people. Maddy was always the first to volunteer at their daughter Maya's school field trips, PTA meetings. Kevin was hard working, but everyone loved him. Who would do this? Maya lost both of her parents.”

Bridgett hands the woman a tissue. “That’s what we’re trying to figure out. We read your statement you gave to the police and you said you were with them Saturday night, dinner, drinks; did you notice anyone suspicious when you were out?”

The woman sighs, staying silent.

“You know something you’re not telling us, Desiree. Talk to us.” Bridgett states.

“There’s a club that a friend of ours owns… it’s a swingers club. That’s where we were on Saturday. My husband and I went along with them and our partners got traded. I’m not sure the name of the man that Maddy ended up with but Kevin never lets her go alone.”

“So it’s a threesome?” Derek asks.

“Not always. Sometimes Kevin would watch while Maddy… you know.”

“How many times have you been there?” Bridgett questions.

“The four of us together… six or seven times. I think Maddy and Kevin went more frequently.”

“We’re going to need the name of the club, as well as the partners you and your husband had.”

***

“So all the victims went to the same swingers club. Club Encounters.” JJ says.

“They had to have met the unsub at the club. And had sex with him.” Rossi adds.

“Or let him watch.” Spencer says, writing something on the board in front of him.

“We need to get in the club. It’s Friday night so it’s most likely going to be packed.” Bridgett suggests.

“She’s right. Bridgett you and Morgan get dressed, you’ll be going undercover as a couple to get into the club.”

Bridgett looks over at Derek, suppressing a smile and raising her eyebrow at him. Spencer spins around quickly, not looking thrilled with Hotch’s plan. Bridgett makes eye contact with her boyfriend across from her and gives him a “calm down” look.

“Sir? We’ll be going undercover as a couple?” Bridgett questions.

“Married couple. Get back to the hotel and get ready. Be back here by 8pm. Everyone else, work on calling the names of the partners and asking them if they know anything.” Hotch leaves the room, leaving the rest of the team smirking at Derek and Bridgett.

“Let’s head back to get ready for our night out, Mrs. Morgan.” Derek jokes before walking out.  

Bridgett bites her bottom lip to prevent herself from smiling at his joke. Spencer pouts at Derek as he passes by, Derek paying him no mind. Bridgett gets up from her seat, grabbing her stuff and following Derek.

“Could I come with you guys… back to the hotel? There’s something I need to grab.” Spencer says, running to catch up with them.

“Yeah, come on pretty boy.”

***

“Come on, mama! You have like 10 more minutes before we have to leave.” Derek calls out from the other side of the door.

“Okay give me like 2 more minutes!” She responds, fluffing her hair up again.

Derek sits on the edge of the bed, fiddling with the watch on his wrist. Spencer was on the other side of the room, still not liking the arrangement that was going on. Derek scoffs out a laugh at Spencer’s visible pout on his face, looking like a child who was told they couldn’t get a second piece of cake for dessert.

“What’s on your mind, kid?” Derek asks, breaking the silence in the room.

“Hmm, nothing. Just uhh, thinking about the case.”

“You know I can tell when you’re lying right?”

The bathroom door opens up, Bridgett stepping out in a sexy tight white dress, the dress ending mid thigh ,and baby pink high heels. Spencer bites his lip, taking in the beauty that is his girlfriend. Derek’s eyes scanned his coworker’s body, shocked that she looked sexy as hell.

“I need help tying my dress.” Bridgett says, turning around and moving her hair to the side. Her entire back was exposed, both the men could tell she wasn’t wearing a bra, which drove Spencer up the wall.

Derek looks over at Spencer, motioning him to Bridgett. Spencer clears his throat, walking over to her and tying the little strings together on her dress up for her. Bridgett turns around and smiles, fixing her hair to flow down her back, completely oblivious to the gawking stares both of them were giving her.

“Well, what do you think?” She asks, smiling at both men, doing a spin.  

“I mean this in the most respectful way possible, but god damn you look good.” Derek gawks, making Bridgett’s cheeks get hot.

Spencer shoots him a dirty look, wrapping his arm around Bridgett, and giving her forehead a kiss.

Derek stands up, grinning. “I’ll give you two lovebirds a minute. But you need to be downstairs in less than 5 minutes.”

“Yes sir.” Bridgett replies, giving him a sarcastic salute.

Spencer rolls his eyes, tilting Bridgett’s chin up toward him and forcefully kissing her after Derek walks out of the room. Bridgett moans against him, tangling her fingers in his hair immediately. Her free hand slides up his chest wrapping her hand around his tie and pulling him close. Spencer pulls the end of her dress up over her butt, exposing her skimpy underwear. He pulls back from the kiss, looking down at her practically see through white panties.

“Is someone jealous that Derek and I are playing a couple?” Bridgett teases, nipping at his jaw.

Spencer slips his finger under the elastic of her panties and lightly circles the wet bud between her legs. Bridgett grips his arm, moaning loudly.

“You’re coming back to me, tonight, Bridgett. And in this outfit, you understand me?” He speaks in a deep voice, not breaking eye contact with her.

“Y-yes sir.” She mutters, trying to keep her composure. Spencer draws his fingers back out, coating his lips with her wetness as he licks his fingers clean. Bridgett presses her lips against his, tasting herself on his plump lips.

“Let’s go before Derek comes back up here.” He says, biting the side of her neck roughly. Bridgett yelps, laughing, massaging the area.

“I like jealous Spencer.” She states, fixing her dress and grabbing her clutch.

“Hey,” Spencer calls, pulling her toward him. “I love you.”

“I love you too. And, don’t worry, Derek and I aren’t going to do ‘swinger’ stuff, alright. We’re just trying to catch the unsub.”

“Yeah, I know.” Spencer says, stuffing his hands in his pockets, giving her a small forced smile.

Bridgett strokes his cheek softly, looking at his brown eyes. “Come on,  my love.” She says, pulling his arm out of his pocket and holding it in hers as they walk out of the room.

***

“Can you hear us?” Hotch asks through the earpiece in Bridgett’s ear hidden by her hair.

“Yes, sir.” Bridgett replies, walking arm and arm with Derek through the busy club. There were people dancing together on the dance floor, grinding against each other and making out. “I’m not trying to judge, but I can’t imagine sharing my significant other. I’m not good at sharing. I failed that part of kindergarten.” Bridgett jokes.

“You just have to pretend to share me, pretty girl.” Derek says. They both sit at the bar, sipping the fake cocktails they ordered. Derek wraps his arm around Bridgett’s waist, pulling her close to him.

Bridgett stiffens up around his grasp, her eyes flying over to him and growing wide.

“Hey mama, you gotta relax. I know you’re nervous, you haven’t done a lot of undercover stuff, but you gotta loosen up. We’re playing the part.”

Bridgett nods her head, resting her hand on his thigh, kissing his cheek. Derek nuzzles his head in her neck. It felt so weird cuddling up to a different man, and her boyfriend’s best friend nonetheless. As they were “fake” flirting, Bridgett’s eyes scan the room, fixating on a man that was staring them down.

“Derek, blonde man in a blue jean jacket in the left corner, black rimmed glasses.”

Derek picks his head up nonchalantly, turning it slowly toward the left corner of the club. Derek eyes him, studying his face and his body language. The man was definitely checking the two of them out.

“You see the scratch marks on the side of his neck?” Derek says in her ear.

Bridgett nods her head. “Carolina Doane had DNA under her fingernails, but they couldn’t identify it. Come here.” Bridgett takes Derek’s hand, leading him through the crowd over to the man. He takes a swig of his drink, eyeing the couple.

“Hey. Saw you checking us out from across the room. You like what you see?” Bridgett asks.

“Have a seat.” The man offers the chair across from him. Derek sits down first, Bridgett sitting on his lap. Derek snakes his arm around the front of her waist, keeping her in place.

“What’s your name, handsome?” Bridgett asks him.

“Connor Campbell. And you two?”

“I’m Isabelle, and this is my husband, Danny.”

“What are you looking for?” The man asks, taking another drink from the glass in his hand.  

“Well to tell you the truth it’s our first time here. We’re new to the swinging game. But I think I want double the fun.” Bridgett replies, “I don’t like to share but I like to be shared.”

“I think that can be arranged.”

“You come with anyone?” Derek asks.

“No. I came here alone. Easier for people to approach me. You want to head out of here? I have somewhere we can go.”

“Go with him. But try to keep him from going home. Garcia searched his name and we have units at his house searching for evidence. Try to stall.” Hotch’s voice rings from her ear.

“Yeah, let’s get out of here.” Bridgett says, standing up off Derek’s lap.

As the three of them headed out of the club, the potential unsub was getting handsy behind Bridgett as they made their way through the crowd, touching on her ass and hips. Once they made it outside together Bridgett walked in the middle of the two men. Clinging onto Connor’s arm and touching his chest, trying to make it look like she was interested in him.

“You’re an eager little one aren’t you?” Connor moans, slapping her ass. Bridgett bites her tongue to hide the disgust on her face.

“Yeah, it’s what I love about her. She’s very eager to please.” Derek replies, giving her hand a comforting squeeze, he could tell she was uncomfortable.

“Why don’t we get the party started in the car? I’m kinda into the voyeurism thing.” Bridgett says, slipping her hand under his shirt.

“You good with that, man? With me touching your wife in front of you?” He turns his head to Derek waiting for permission, even though he was already touching both sides of her hips.

Bridgett gives Derek a nod subtly, letting him know it was okay.  

“She’s all yours. You be a good girl and listen to him, got it?” Derek says, playing into this role too well.

She shoots Derek a nervous look behind Connor’s shoulder before he turns back around, Bridgett faking a smile at the man as he begins to touch her inner thigh, breathing heavily against her neck. He reeked of disgusting musty  cologne, cigarettes, and the whisky he was drinking inside. She was going to need a bleach bath after this was over.

“How much pleasure can you really get from your husband since you want to be shared?” He whispers to her, groping her breasts.

“And you think you can please me?” Bridgett asks.

“You’ve never wondered what it’s like to be with someone who can give you all the pleasure in the world, sweetheart?”  

Gag.

“We got him. He’s the unsub. Take him down, we’re on our way.” Hotch says in the earpiece.

“FBI, step away from her and put your hands up.” Derek says, drawing the gun on him.

Connor grabs Bridgett by the throat, pushing her against the brick building behind her. Her head bounces against the wall at the force he grabs her. Bridgett sinks her nails into his face, scratching him and attempting to push him off of her. His grip tightens around her windpipe as they struggle with each other, making her cough and gasp for air. Derek grabs Connor by his shirt collar, throwing him to the ground. As Connor’s hand drops from her neck, Bridgett loses her balance from the heels and falls to the ground, still choking and coughing. She watches Derek get on top of him and handcuff him.

“You good?” Derek asks, motioning over to her.

“Fine.” She chokes out, her voice sounding hoarse, still coughing deeply.

Two black SUVs pull up on the sidewalk next to them, the red and blue lights flashing, the team running out to help Derek and Bridgett.

“Are you okay?” JJ asks, helping Bridgett up off the ground.

“My head.” She moans out.

JJ turns her head, touching the spot that was sore on her scalp.  Bridgett winces and whines at the stinging on her head.

“You’re bleeding. We’ll call you to a medic.” JJ walks with her to the car, placing her in it while she speaks over the walkie for an ambulance. Bridgett shivered at the cold breeze from the wind and the blasting car AC.

“Here, sweetheart.” Kate takes the coat in her hand and wraps it around Bridgett’s shoulders. She has a towel in her hand as well and gently applies pressure to the back of her head.

“Thank you. Where’s Spence?”

“He’s with Derek, he’ll be here in a second. You did a good job catching the unsub, Bridgett. When the police got to his house there was another couple there, they were tied up and had been there for 2 days. They said he was torturing them and told them after tonight they’re agony would be over.”

Spencer walks up to Bridgett, his face softening once he sees her. “Hi, babe.” He says softly, bringing her in for a tight hug.

Bridgett nuzzles into his neck for comfort, relaxing against him. “Hi, baby.”

Spencer pulls away, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “The ambulance is here. Let’s get you checked out.” Spencer takes the towel from Kate, smiling at her and thanking her for taking care of Bridgett. Spencer guides her to the ambulance, letting the man take a look at the wound on the back of her head. He stayed by her side the whole time, holding her hand as they cleaned up the bit of blood on her head which stung more than anything.

“Do you have someone that can stay with you to make sure you don’t develop a concussion?” The paramedic asks.

“Yeah, she’s staying with me.” Spencer replies.

“Okay good. I’ll give you a list of questions you need to ask her every hour. If she starts to slur her words, throws up, has a seizure you need to bring her into the hospital. Keep ice on your head, avoid sleep for the next 6-8 hours.”

“Got it.” Bridgett mutters, keeping the ice pack he gave her on her head.

***

“I’ll make us some coffee since we’re not sleeping until tomorrow.” Spencer says, helping Bridgett sit on the bed.

“I need a shower. Desperately. I can still feel his disgusting hands on my skin.” Bridgett slips the heels off her feet, rolling her ankles around. Without asking, Spencer unzips her dress for her, sitting next to her.

“I gotta ask you the questions before you shower.” He says, taking a piece of paper out of his pocket.

“Spence, no you don’t. I’m fine.” Bridgett replies, taking her arms out of the sleeves of her dress, shimmying out of the dress the rest of the way, leaving her in only her panties.

Spencer’s eyes grow wide, his pupils dilating at the sight of his half naked girlfriend. He clears his throat, looking back at the paper. “What’s your name?”

Bridgett sighs, rolling her eyes and walking toward the bathroom. “Bridgett Rhonda Mendez.” She calls from the shower, turning the water on.

“How old are you?” Spencer’s voice seems closer. She pokes her head out from behind the curtain, chucking at him leaning against the sink. She draws the curtain back, fully on display and wet. Spencer sits in the closed toilet seat, trying not to look at her.

“I’m 27.”

“Do you know where you are right now?”

“In the shower. Waiting for my boyfriend to join me. He told me that I was coming back to him when the night was over.”

Spencer licks his lips, looking back at the paper. “Umm, what day of the week is it, today’s date, and the month?”

“Friday September 16th. Are we done?” Bridgett asks, slowly lathering the body soap all over her torso.

Spencer watches her for a few seconds, contemplating taking his clothes off and joining her.

Emily had a good point, Spencer had an IQ of 178, but a woman walks by, or in this case is sudsy in front of him, it drops down to 60.

Spencer looks down at the paper in his hand, he knew what was written on it, but he needed to look away from his girlfriend. “What happened prior to you hitting your head?”

Bridgett turns the shower head off, grabbing the towel off the rack next to the tub and dries her wet body off. Spencer’s eyes not leaving her glistening body.

Get it together, Spencer. Fucking Christ.

“Campbell was trying to get me in the mood by talking creepy to me. Hotch said to take him down and Derek drew his gun on Campbell. Then he grabbed me by my throat and choked me out against the wall.” Bridgett looked into Spencer’s eyes the whole time she was summarizing her night, drying the “fun” parts of her body off.

“You’re good… no concussion.” Spencer mutters, stuffing the piece of paper back in his pocket.

Bridgett leans up to kiss Spencer, making sure to press against him a little extra. “Do I get anything… special for answering all my questions right?”

He swears he feels his whole body jump at the feeling of her hot, silky smooth skin pressed up fully against him. “What did you have in mind?”

“Well… I got a bump on my head and even though the paramedic did a good job with making sure I’m okay, I think I need a doctor’s opinion.” Bridgett whispers in his ear, nipping at the spot behind his ear. “I think I need a full body exam to make sure I’m okay and not broken.”

“Well, I’m not an actual medical doctor, Bridge.”

Bridgett laughs at the fact that her attempt at being sexy went right over his head, just like every other time. At this point he should know all of her sexual advances. She presses her forehead against his shoulder for a second, trying not to make him feel bad for laughing.

“Spencer, I know. I’m trying to tell you to fuck me without actually saying the words.”

“Oh, right. Well, let’s give you that examination.”

***

“Okay, what’s your next question?” Bridgett asks, grabbing a handful of popcorn and taking a few bites.

“Have you given thought to us moving in together?” Spencer asks.

Bridgett’s eyes grow wide, Spencer took the game to a whole new level with his question. First they were just asking random questions that Bridgett found online like, “Have you ever practiced kissing in a mirror?” To which Bridgett learned that Spencer had. Now he was getting deep.

“The thought has crossed my mind a few times.” Bridgett replies with a smile. “Same question to you.”

“You said we couldn’t repeat questions!” Spencer says.

Bridgett playfully rolls her eyes, laughing to herself. “Okay, okay. In the next… 6 months do you see us living together?”

Spencer gives her a flat face, “You realize you asked me the same question in just different words?” He tosses an M&M at her, the candy hitting her chest and rolling down her cleavage. Spencer laughs, throwing his arms up in the air.

Bridgett airs her shirt out, the candy rolling out the bottom into the bed, she grabs it and pops it in her mouth.

“Really?”

“Really what? They’re my boobs! I know where they’ve been! And I showered! They’re clean! You’ve eaten things off my boobs before!  Don’t avoid my question!” Bridgett says loudly.

“I would say less than 6 months.”

“Really? You want to wake up every morning to me, have to deal with me all the time? Always somewhere in the apartment everywhere you turn and look? Imagine all my hair ties all over the place. You’ve started a collection in a jar at my apartment because I keep losing them.”

Spencer nods his head, “We already spend all our time together outside the job, I wake up next to you all the time, and I love it. I think it makes sense for us to live together officially.”

“Okay, well my lease ends in the next few months. I won’t renew it when it’s over.” Bridgett smiles, leaning over their snack pile to give him a kiss.

The tone of the kiss turns quickly once Bridgett starts to move the snacks out of her way to get closer to Spencer.

“I have to ask you the concussion questions again.” He says quickly, still trying to recover from the sex they had less than 45 minutes ago.

Bridgett groans, rolling her eyes. “If I could answer the questions in the middle of us having sex, and I answered them right, I think my brain is fine.”

[fairylight21]

Jeremiah Valeska x reader (Part 1)

Prompt: You’re a crime investigator for the GCPD and you get kidnapped by Jeremiah. 

Warnings: violence, kidnapping

Words: 995

You sit by Jim Gordon’s desk, waiting as he finishes an interrogation. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice the one and only Jeremiah Valeska in one of the jail cells. He’s handcuffed at the wrists and ankles as he sits cross legged in the cell. His face is badly bruised and bashed paired with small traces of blood. You quickly realise he’s staring at you intently. Knowing he attempted to murder your coworker in one of the most horrific ways imaginable, it made you feel very uncomfortable. You quickly look away and try not to think about it. Before you knew it, your dad and Harvey were finished with the interrogation. You stand up from the chair as Jim approaches with a look of intrigue.

“(Y/N) what are you doing here?” he asks.

“I’ve brought you some more pieces of evidence from the crime scene of that murder case last week,” you reply handing him the files.

Jim skims through the files. “Thank you (Y/N). Your work is always appreciated. Now go home and get some rest, you’ve earned it.” 

“Thank you Mr. Gordon.” 

“No problem, and please call me, Jim.”  

With that Jim rushes over to one of his coworkers with the files and begins to review them.

You pick up your bag and proceed to the door. As you walk by the jail cells a familiar voice stops you in your tracks.

“Going somewhere?” It’s the voice of Jeremiah Valeska. You turn to face him. He’s in the same position he was when you first noticed him. You can see that he’s got two black eyes and a busted lip. One of his eyes is half-open due to the swelling around it. He didn’t seem to have any emotional reaction to his injuries, however. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know, freak,” you say as sternly as possible despite being utterly terrified. 

“As a matter of fact I would,” he replies. 

“If you must know I’m going back home and-”

“Is that because Jimbo told you to?” 

“No,” you lied.

“Then why are you leaving? Stick around for a while so we can talk some more. I must admit I feel quite lonely in this cell and I could use some company, especially by someone as breathtaking as you my dear.”

You couldn’t believe this. Jeremiah Valeska, the most feared and despised man in all of Gotham City was hitting on you, the daughter of his biggest enemy. You can’t help but feel a little flattered by his comment, but at the same time, a little disturbed given the crimes he committed or attempted to commit that is. 

“Listen, you’re about as likely to have a chance with me as you do escaping that cell.”

With that, I quickly rush out of the police station and back to the house.    

 I awake in the middle of the night to the sound of the front door and windows breaking.

“Let’s get her boys!” someone shouts from down stairs. My heart sinks as I realize they’re referring to me. Footsteps echo through the hallway as the criminals make their way upstairs. I quickly crawl out of my bed to hide in my closet just in time. The thieves bust the door open and enter. 

“I don’t see her,” one of them says.

“Neither do I,” another replies. 

I cover my mouth so they can’t hear my heavy breathing. They grab stuff to keep or just break. They look around the room and point their guns at any sound they hear. 

“Check the closet.” 

My heart sinks even further to the point where it feels like it’s in my stomach. I hold my breath as one of them walks towards the closet. I attempt to shift towards the side to avoid being seen. However, I accidentally knock over a box of old clothes. The group gets excited and runs to open the door. 

“There she is!” one of them shouts in excitement. 

I scream as they grab me by my arms and legs, dragging me out of my room and downstairs. 

“Let me go you maniacs!” I yell.

“No can do!” One of them replies. “We only answer to Jeremiah!” 

I’m rendered speechless by his response. What does Jeremiah want with me? I feel like throwing up at the thought of what he could do to me. When we reach the living room I’m horrified to see Jeremiah and his assistant, Ecco standing in my living room. I want to scream but I’m in too much shock to do so. 

“There she is,” Jeremiah says as a malicious grin spreads across his face, “where did you find her?”

“Her bedroom closet sir,” replies the man holding my right arm. 

“How predictable,” Jeremiah chuckles. He steps close to me and places his index and middle finger below my chin, lifting it so we’re making eye contact. 

“Did you really think you could hide from me?” 

I turn away from him and close my eyes as tears begin to form. 

He turns his head and nods to his assistant. She nods in reply as she opens up a brief case and begins constructing something. 

“Why are you doing this?” I ask. 

“At the police station, you said that I had as much of a chance with you as I did escaping that cell. Well, here I am.”

Now I feel like actually throwing up. I’ve put myself in this situation instead of keeping my mouth shut. I should’ve never underestimated Jeremiah. 

“All systems go boss,” Ecco says with a grin on her face. 

“Excellent,” he replies before turning his attention back to me.   

“Hold still my dear,” says Jeremiah as he cups both sides of my face, rendering me unable to move. “I don’t want this to be more difficult than it has to be.” 

Suddenly there’s a sharp pain radiating throughout the left side of my neck and everything in my vision goes black. 

[atlafan]

Take it Slow - Part Sixty-Six

a/n: okay this is my first shot at a harry:y/n fic, and it will be multiple parts. y/n had a bad experience with an ex over a year ago, and finally accepts her coworker and good friend Niall’s invitation to go on a blind date with his friend Harry.

Warnings: Fluff. Smut…there’s, um, some more butt stuff…

Masterpost (all previous parts can be found in the masterpost)

Friday after work you meet Harry at the first of three locations he wanted to look at. He really trusted your eye and vision for things. You didn’t like the first location.

“Not enough foot traffic. You’ll want people to be able to walk in and make appointments.”

He agreed with you. Harry’s main thing was to make sure there were two offices in the back. He needed a private space for himself, and for Mariah if she decided to join him.

“You should also see if you can sell frames and other products to help add to your profit. You could offer special deals for those booklets you make.”

“Good idea. That’ll give Isaac somethin’ to do too if he comes along.”

You liked the second location the best out of the three. It was closer to home, and near a park. There were other businesses and a ton of foot traffic. There were two offices, one in the back, and one upstairs. Harry liked the idea of it being two stories. There was also a large storage closet.

“With some paint and some new furniture, this could be a really great place.”

“Yeah, and the price is right in my budget.” Harry says looking over his paperwork. “Are there many offers on this space yet?”

“Not yet, but it’ll move fast. Take the weekend to think things over and let me know Monday, yeah?”

“Alright, sounds good.”

You and Harry were having Mariah and Isaac over for lunch Saturday, so that would give everyone time to think a lot of things over.

“You have the money in your budget for renovations and stuff like that?” You ask him as you get into the car.

“Yup, I think I’ve thought of just about everything. I’d need to put my two weeks in at work quick though because I’d need to spend my free time fixin’ the place up.”

“Which means you’d need to file for insurance soon…”

“Yeah, and I’d need to get my LLC insured too. This is all happening so fast.” He says excitedly. “When can we start working on the website?”

“How about tomorrow night? Once we know if Mariah’s on board we can add her info to it.”

“Thanks again for helpin’ with all this, I don’t know what I’d do without you.” He gives your hand a squeeze.

“I’d do anything for you, Harry.” You smile at him and he nearly starts to cry.

//

“So…what exactly are we doing here, other than to have lunch?” Mariah asks as you set a plate of sandwiches in front of everyone.

“Well, I’m finally jumpin’ into my own business, and to be up front, I want you both to come with me.”

“Me?” Isaac asks in shock.

“Yes.” Harry hands them his business plan. “It’s all right there. Y/N and I looked at some spaces yesterday and found one we think could suit all of us. My freelance work alone would be enough to sustain us, so imagine the few people you work with on top of that Mariah. And Isaac, there’s no one else I’d trust bookin’ shit f’me. I know I’m asking you to leave something comfortable, and it might seem rocky at first, but I think this could be great.”

“What would you call the business? Or is it just a space we’d use together?” She asks flipping through.

“Well, that’s somethin’ we could talk about. I mean I’d want us to have business cards that match. It could just be our last names or we could come up with somethin’.”

“I think we should just call it Styles Photography.” She suggests.

“But you’d be my partner, so where does your name go?”

“I’d be working for you, and it would go on my business card. Your name should be everywhere, this is your thing.” She smiles.

“Harry, I have to say, I’m really impressed with this. I mean the salary you’re suggesting for me is way more than I make now.” Isaac says.

“It’s what you deserve to be paid, you work really hard. And Y/N suggested we sell other little things to help offset other costs, which I think is brilliant.”

“Yeah, we could sell some of those techie frames where you digitally load the photos. People go nuts for those.” Mariah says. “Fuck it, I’m in.”

“Me too.”

“Are you both serious?! I wouldn’t be able to provide many benefits…that’s the only thing.”

“I’m still on my parent’s insurance for a couple more years.” Isasc says.

“So am I, actually.” Mariah says. “So we’d have time save up for all that.”

“My question is, when would we start?”

“Well, I’d be leaving Plant Geo far before either of you. I need to lease the space and fix it up. I’d say by June we could be up and running. Y/N’s going to help put a legitimate website together for us, and she’s going to do this social media campaign to help get the word out.”

“Harry, do you think you could have some legitimate contracts made up for us?” Isaac asks.

“Definitely. I could have them to you by the end of next week probably. So we’re doin’ this, I can go lease the space?”

“Yeah! Do you have any pictures?” Mariah asks. Harry hands her his phone. “I was thinkin’ of putting a wall up in the back and adding a small kitchen area. There’s an office in the back for you, and I would take the one upstairs. Huge storage closet for all our shit. I was thinkin’ of getting a custom desk made for you too Isaac.”

“Can you do all that yourself?” You ask.

“Yeah, I’m pretty handy. So are Lou and Niall, they could help when I need it.”

“My dad could help too…” You bite your bottom lip. You hadn’t really spoken to your dad in a while.

“We’ll see…” Harry smiles. “Anyways, I’m really excited you guys are on board.”

“Me too, I’ve been getting sick of all the drama there.” Mariah says.

“Chris is gonna flip losing her three best people.” Isaac says.

“You two need to keep quiet that you’re comin’ with me. I’m not even tellin’ her I’m getting my own studio, I’m just telling her I’m going to freelance full time.”

“Good idea.”

The three shake on it, and Harry tells them they’ll get proper contacts soon. After they leave he calls the realtor and tells him he’ll take the space and will have a check for him Monday.

“Once I get the blue prints of the place I can get the permits I need for renovations.” He tells you. “Do you really think your dad would help?”

“Sure, I mean it would be good to have him there in case you stumble into any electrical mishaps. Plus he has a ton of tools. He could borrow my brother’s truck and meet you out there. And he’s free labor. Well, mostly free, you’d need to buy him a beer or two.”

“What’s his number I’ll call him.”

“You wanna call my dad?”

“Why would I have you call him? So he can ask you a ton of questions and make you angry? No way, I’ll talk to him.”

You give Harry your dad’s number and he dials it on his phone. He picks up after a few rings. Harry puts the phone on speaker.

“Hello?”

“Uh, hi Mr. Y/L/N, it’s Harry…”

“Oh! Um, hi. Is everything okay with Y/N?” You two smile at each other.

“Yeah, she’s fine, I asked her for your number actually.”

“Oh boy…you’re not calling for the reason I think you are?” Harry’s face goes beat red.

“Uh, no, no, no, not yet anyways.” He laughs nervously. “She actually told me to call you because I’m officially renting my own studio space and I’m going to be doing some renovations to it. Y/N said you could be a great help.”

“Oh! Well, that’s a much better reason to call.” You roll your eyes and Harry swats an arm at you. “What do you need help with?”

“Well, a lot actually.” Harry takes the phone off speaker and walks away so he can explain everything to your dad.

About an hour or so later Harry comes back to you and plops down on the couch. He takes a deep breath and looks at you.

“Your dad is a chatty guy.” He laughs.

“Yeah, no shit. Did he really think you were calling to ask if you could marry me?”

“Yes, and he talked my ear off about how even though he knows we love each other, we just need to slow down a bit and that it’s too soon for all that.”

“I’m sorry.” You can’t help but laugh.

“S’alright. Don’t really need his permission though do I.” It wasn’t a question.

“Nope.” You smile. “So what did he say about helping?”

“Oh, he’s all for it. Said it would give him somethin’ to do. He said your brother could probably help too. He said once I get all the right permits he’d be able to jump in wherever.”

“That’s great!”

“God, I can’t wait to give my two weeks to Chris on Monday. Been there for four years, feels way longer.”

“I’m so proud of you Harry, this is going to be great.”

//

Monday morning Harry walked into Christin’s office and handed her his two weeks notice.

“What’s this?” She asks looking up at him.

“I’m leavin’ Plant Geo. I’m goin’ to invest more into my own work. No hard feelings, I just can’t do this anymore. The work doesn’t make me happy like it used to.”

“There’s nothing I can do to convince you to stay? You’re the best photographer we’ve got.”

“I’m sorry, Chris. It’s just not what I want anymore. I wanna be my own boss.”

“I understand.”

“I’d like to keep this quiet, I don’t want anyone makin’ a fuss.” She nods and he walks out of her office to go to his own.

//

Harry made a ton of phone calls all week to get the ball rolling on the permits he’d need to start making renovations to the studio. He also worked on the contracts he’d need to give Mariah and Isaac. He asked Rachel if she’d be able to help paint once it was all ready for that. Harry felt lucky to have so many friends that were willing to support him.

Every night you and Harry sat at the dining room table getting his website together. He loved watching you work. He was beyond grateful for you. You’d make sure everything looked the way he wanted. You both worked really well together.

“As you’re renovating we should post on Instagram to show everyone updates. You’ll need to give me the login to your professional insta.”

“Should we just make a brand new one for the LLC?”

“No, we can just update yours. Then we can post an announcement to Facebook, and let everyone know about the site. I can set it up so they book with you on the site too. Isaac would have the final approval on the reservation of course, that way you wouldn’t get overworked.”

“I’ve told a few people and they said they were really excited. A lot of people have more time during the week to get their pictures taken than I thought. Plus I can still freelance for other magazines if I want.”

“Did Christin tell you that?”

“Yeah, we spoke and she said if I ever needed the work she’d give it to me.”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah, I appreciated it.”

//

A couple of weeks later, your dad started helping Harry with the renovations. Your dad was actually impressed that Harry had a lot of the proper things he needed like masks and goggles. Harry made sure to take before and after pictures for you to post updates on social media. One night he came home in a pair of jeans, workboots, and a longsleeve shirt. It was starting to get warmer out, but the longsleeve helped keep dust and other scraps off his skin.

“I can’t believe I’m sayin’ this, but I’m actually havin’ fun with your dad. He’s helpin’ me get the kitchen together this week.”

“That’s great.” You bite your bottom lip while he runs a hand through his hair.

“What?”

“Nothing…you just look…hot. Where’s your tool belt?”

“Left it in my trunk.” He smirks. He comes over to you and rests his hands on your hips. “Why?”

“Be nice if you brought it home some night.”

“You should come by one of the mornings your dad isn’t there.”

“I’m not fucking you in your studio.”

“C’mon, why not? Now that would be hot.”

“Harry.” You suck your teeth and pull his hands off you. He pulls you back closer to him.

“Okay, okay.” He presses his forehead to yours. “I have a wedding to shoot this weekend.”

“I know.”

“So we won’t have much time together again, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’m gonna spend some time with Rachel.”

“Oh good.” He kisses your nose. “I needa shower, I must smell like a goat.”

“A very sexy goat.”

//

Rachel comes over Saturday while is off taking wedding photos. You’re enjoying catching up with her. She tells you how excited she is to help paint at the studio, and how excited Mariah is to work with Harry.

“I’m really glad she’s my girlfriend, she’s awesome.”

“I’m so happy for you! I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so happy.” You take a sip your tea. “Can I ask you something kind of personal?”

“Always.”

“Well…you know about the things Sarah and I bought for the boys?”

“Oh yeah, she filled me in on all that.”

“Okay cool, so it’s been a while since Harry and I dove back into all that. He’s just been so busy with everything, I’ve sort of felt bad asking you know?”

“Sure.”

“So like…how do straps work?”

“Oh my god, you wanna peg him?”

“You have no idea how badly I wanna get into that ass.” You both laugh.

“Yes, oh my god, okay, well, I’ve never used one in someone’s butt before, but using the strap in general just makes it easier to like hold onto the person. It’s not like using a dildo where you have to keep your hand gripped on it.”

“But how do you know what you’re doing?”

“You just feel around, talk to your partner make sure they like what you’re doing. Does he know you wanna fuck him like that?”

“Yeah.”

“And he’s cool with it?”

“He didn’t seem not cool with it. You should have seen how amazing he looked when I used the plug on him, Jesus, he was beautiful.”

“I never expected you to be into something like this, I love this for you.”

“I didn’t expect it either. I just don’t know how to bring it up. He hasn’t had a free second.”

“Have you had sex otherwise?”

“Oh sure. We always make time for it. We just haven’t had time for the things that take a little longer.”

“Do you think he’ll want to do it to you?”

“He’s not really a give to get kind of person. I don’t want it for myself and he knows that.”

“Oh that’s nice. Yeah, I don’t really like the strap used on me, I don’t need the dick.” You both laugh.

“So sex with Mariah is good then?”

“So good. I’ve never really connected with someone the way I’ve connected with her.”

“That’s great Rach.”

“Please don’t keep me in the dark about if/when you actually peg Harry. I’m gonna need all the details.” You both start laughing just as he’s walking in.

“Oi, what’s so funny.” He smirks at them, loosening his tie.

“Hi!” You say blushing. “Did you just walk in?”

“Mhm. Hi Rach.”

“Hey Harry.” She smiles at him then at you. “Well, I’ll get going, I have some projects I need to grade actually. God, summer cannot come fast enough.”

“I hear that.” You stand up to walk her out. “Thanks for coming over today.”

“Course! It was fun to catch up. Bye!” You turn back to look at Harry.

“She didn’t need to leave.”

“Oh she’s been here for hours it’s fine. You’re home earlier than I thought.”

“It was an early morning wedding, and they didn’t need me for the reception, just family shots, so I got outta there as soon as I could.” He slips hit suit jacket off and walks down the hall to your bedroom. You follow him. “What was so funny when I walked in?”

“Hm? Oh, I can’t even remember. Sometimes we just get into these laughing fits.” You sit on the bed and watch him undress. He hangs up his suit and looks at you. “You know Aunt Flow left yesterday.”

“Did she now?”

“Mhm.”

“Is that your way of tellin’ me you wanna bone?” You giggle and bite your bottom lip.

“Maybe.”

“Well, we gotta make it quick. I need to go to the studio and get some things done.” He stands between your legs and you can’t help but pout. “Whatsa matter, angel?”

“We’ve been making it quick a lot lately.” You say looking up at him. You put your hands on his hips.

“Aw, you want us to take our time baby?”

“Yes.”

“How about a quick shag now, and then tonight when I get back we can take our time, hm? We’ll do whatever you want.”

“Whatever I want?”

“Sure.” He smiles. “Now take your pants off.” You grin and stand up to take your leggings off.

Harry fingered you until you came and then fucked you into the mattress before he left for the studio. You got caught up on some homework while he was gone and made dinner. He got home around seven, exhausted.

“Please take a day off from it tomorrow.”

“I will, I will. I just wanted to get some things done. Your dad is comin’ back to help Monday so I brought some lumbar over and some other things we’d need.”

You both eat quickly. He goes over to sit on the couch, but you put your hands on your hips and make a grunting noise.

“What?” He looks at you just as he was about to turn the TV on. You point to the bedroom. “Babe, I just need-“

“No, you said when you got home we could do whatever I wanted. Now get that ass up and into our bedroom.”

He couldn’t say no to that, so he stands walks with you into the bedroom. He sees that you’ve pulled out the special box and stops short.

“You…you wanna do this tonight?”

“Neither of us have anywhere to be tomorrow, and we haven’t done it since the first time.” You bite your inner cheek. “If you don’t want to we don’t have to.”

“S’not that I don’t want to…what’s the end goal here?”

“I want to be able to fuck you in the ass.” You say bluntly and he nods. “Are you okay with that?”

“I think I could be.” He sits down on the edge of the bed and you stand between his legs. He looks up at you. “I’ve been reading into it a little.”

“You have?”

“Yeah, can’t say I’m not curious…but there’s gonna have to be things that you’ll have to do. I mean you’re legitimately going to need to finger me to stretch me out and stuff. Are you comfortable with that?”

“Maybe if you shower first.” You giggle.

“Alright, let me go shower.” He stands up and starts taking his clothes off. “I want you naked on this bed ready f’me when I get out. I’m still a little hungry, and I really only want one thing.”

You do as he says and excitedly get on the bed and wait for him while he showers. Harry makes sure he’s all clean and comes out to you. He gets on the bed and hovers over you. He kisses your lips and then makes his way down your chest. He takes your nipple between his teeth before sucking on your breast.

“Ah.” Your head rolls back while he sucks on one and kneads the other.

He makes his way to suck on the other, wanting to give equal attention. He kisses down your chest and belly. He kisses one of your hips and sucks on the skin harshly letting it go with a pop. He spreads your legs apart and dives in. He licks a flat tripe up from your center to your clit. He laps at your folds and sucks where he pleases. His tongue goes up inside you while his thumb works your clit. He was really taking his time, only make small, slow circles. Your chest was rising and falling rapids. When he wraps his mouth around your clit, your hands fly to his hair. His middle and forefinger plunge inside you, going in knuckle deep.

“Shit.” He looks up at you while your eyes are rolled back.

He took a great deal of satisfaction knowing that even though in a few minutes you’d totally be in charge, but no matter what he’d always be the one in control. If he really wanted to he could fuck you so hard you wouldn’t be able to walk for a week, let alone stand.

He curls his fingers up inside you while the tip of his tongue flicks back and forth against your swollen nub. You tug at his hair harder. He feels you start to clench around his fingers as he hits that spongy spot you love so much.

“Harry.” You moan. You moan his name over over until you’re coming. He takes his fingers out of you and slips his tongue back inside to suck on you. He wanted all you’d give him. “Fuck.” You were out of breath.

He sits up between your legs and wipes chin with the back of his hand.

“Go get the towel and the lube.” He says to you.

You practically squeal while you grab everything. You lay the towel down for him and he sits on top of it.

“Are you sure it won’t be easier on your stomach?”

“No, I want to be able to look at you while you do it. I’ll just hold my legs up like last time.”

“Okay. I’m just gonna blow you for a few minutes first.”

“Sounds good to me.”

You smile and lick up his shaft. You wrap your lips around his tip and slide down. His hips buck up slightly. He felt like he could explode at any second. Going down on you really got him going. Your tongue slides back forth on his slit, lapping up at his precome.

“Shit.” He groans. One of your hands cradles his balls and massages them lightly. “So good, babe.”

You come off him with a popping sound. You grab the lube and put some on your fingers. You warm it up as best you can. You look at him.

“All clean right?”

“Mhm, I sprayed the water right up in there.” You both giggle.

“Okay.”

You lean up and press your forehead against his while he hooks his arms under his knees to give you better access. Your finger tip lightly grazes around him. You start laughing and so does he.

“I’m sorry, I’m just nervous.” You look at him.

“I am too, it’s okay. We can laugh through it, we don’t need to be so serious. S’kinda funny anyways.”

“Yeah, like, my bare finger is gonna go into your ass.”

“Yup.” You both laugh again. “Hold on, before you push in, just like squirt some of th lube directly on me.”

“Won’t that be too cold?”

“It’s fine, I’ll adjust.”

You grab the bottle and put it directly on him. He clenches at how cool it is but he relaxes again. You kiss him as you lightly play with his hole, getting him to relax more and more. Eventually you start to push your middle finger inside of him. He winces at first.

“Nail’s a little long.”

“Shit, I should have clipped them.”

“S’okay, just be careful.”

You continue to kiss him and you feel him relax around you as your finger goes in deeper. There was so much trust between the two of you and you were so happy. You get it all the way in and you pause.

“What should I do now? Curl it up? Move it?”

“Bring it out all the way slowly, put more lube on, and then put it back in.”

You nod and do just that. Eventually you’re able to get a second finger in, and he seems to be enjoying it by the way his cock twitches.

“Doing okay, Harry?”

“Mhm.” Beads of sweat were rolling down his forehead. “Doesn’t feel too bad actually. DO you wanna get the plug now, think I’m stretched out enough.”

“Yeah!” You pull your fingers out of him. “I’m just gonna go wash my hands, one second.” You race into the bathroom and scrub your fingers quickly. You return with the plug in your hand. You get it lubed up and start to push it inside him.

He gasps but relaxes. You had done a pretty good job of stretching him out. Once you get it all the way in, you focus your attention on his cock. You wrap your mouth around his dripping tip and suckle on it.

“Did you…did you wanna try…” He was panting. You look up at him and you can’t help but smile at the beautiful blush covering his cheeks.

“What is it, Harry? Tell me what you want.” You coo as you pump his dick.

“The, uh, you know…the dildo.”

“Babe, it doesn’t have a base.”

“So tie somethin’ around the end of it.”

“Is that safe?”

“I just…I need somethin’ to go deeper.” Your mouth falls open and then you bite your bottom lip.

“Okay, don’t be mad, but I did buy something else.”

“Why would I be mad?”

“I don’t know, we haven’t done this in a while and I didn’t want you to get freaked out.”

You get off the bed and go into the back of your closet. You grab a bag and your hands shake as you take the item in it out.

“Oh.”

“I…I’m a little nervous to put it on. Is this going to be weird for you?”

“I think we’ve crossed the point of weird, don’t you?” He chuckles.

“But it’s going to be me…with a penis.”

“Not really. Let’s just remember to laugh, okay?”

“Okay.”

You slip it on over yourself and you look at him.

“Straps around your ass look nice.”

“Stop” You laugh. “Should I put a condom on it?”

“Um, I think just the lube should be fine.”

“Okay.”

You take a deep breath and get on the bed. You carefully pull the plug out of him.

“You’re about this, we don’t have to do this, Harry.”

“No, I want to.”

“Not just because I want to?”

“Y/N…” He cups your cheek with his hand. “If you’re too nervous, we don’t have to go this far tonight. I’m honestly okay.”

“Alright.”

You take the lube and squirt it into your hand. You rub it all over the dildo attached to the strap.

“Ready?”

“Mhm.” He keeps his legs held back for you as you slowly slip inside him. He lets out a deep breath and relaxes as much as he can.

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

“How does it…how does it feel?”

“Lotta pressure.” He says through gritted teeth. He looks up at you and smirks.

“What?” You start chuckling.

“You just look…sexy, I don’t know how to describe it.”

“It is pretty hot isn’t it?”

“Little bit, yeah.” He relaxes more and you’re able to fit the whole thing inside him. “Holy shit.”

“Did I hurt you?”

“No, opposite of hurt.”

“Oh! Maybe I hit your prostate.”

“Look at that, you’re a natural.” You both laugh.

You starts to pull out a little and you get some more lube on the dildo to add to his comfort. You thrust back in slowly and he lets out another breath. Eventually it actually starts to feel really good for him. You pump his cock while you go in and out of him. Keeping your eyes on his face the whole time to make sure he’s alright.

“You’re doing so well, Harry. How’s it feel, am I making you feel good?” The tip of the dildo keeps brushing against just where he needs it to, and your hand wrapped around hip, thumb working his tip, was pushing him over the edge.”

“I think I’m gonna come.” He gasps. “Oh my goooodd, please let me come on your tits.”

His moans were really getting to you. You angle his dick towards his chest, and with a couple final pumps and thrusts he was coming all over you.

“Fuck, Y/N.” He groans.

You both take a second to catch your breaths. You slowly slide out of him and take the strap off. His legs fall onto the bed. A lot of the lube comes out of him, but you try not to look. You straddle his hips and hover over him. You hug him close to you, neither of you really caring about how messy everything is.

“Are you okay? You did so good, sooo good Harry.” You give him gentle kisses on lips and cheeks. “Thank you, thank you, we don’t ever have to do it again if you didn’t like it.”

“Babe.” He says breathlessly. “I’m good.” He cups your cheeks in his hands and brings you down to kiss him. “We can do it again.”

“Really? It felt that good?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever come so hard.” You smile at him. “And you looked…I mean…it was hot.” You kiss him again. “Not an all the time thing though…maybe for like…special occasions?”

“Sure! How ‘bout if you’re in the mood for it, you tell me.”

“That sounds like a good deal.”

“How are your legs, you had them up for a while?”

“They’re fine, just tired. I feel like I have a whole new respect for what I put your body through all the time.” You giggle and kiss him.

“Would you like me to draw us a bath? Get all clean and cozy?”

“Yeah, I think that would be nice.”

“Okay.”

You climb off him and he watches you go into the bathroom. His asshole was on fire, but he couldn’t muster the energy to care. He was exhausted. You throw a bath bomb into the water and the room fills with the smell of cinnamon and apples.

“Baby? Tub’s all filled.”

“Okay.” He swings his legs over the edge of the bed and you help him up.

“I’ll clean the bed up when we’re done.”

“Alright.”

He lets you get into the water first so he can sit in front of you. He leans his head back against your shoulder and closes his eyes. He just needed some time to come back. You massaged his scalp and peppered light kisses to his temple.

“Y/N?”

“Yes, baby?” You coo.

“Do you think you’ll ever want to try it?” He tilts his head to look at you. “M’just curious.”

“I…don’t know. Maybe. I could try the plug some time I suppose.”

“Only if you want.”

“We’ll see.” You smile and he nestles back down. “So…did it hurt at all?”

“Um, it’s not that it hurt, it was mostly like discomfort for a little bit. But then it sort of just started to feel good, I can’t explain it. You were really careful with me, I appreciate it.” He takes of your hands and kisses the back of it.

“I love you, Harry.”

“I love you too.” He sighs happily.

“Wanna watch a movie tonight? We could get cozy on the sofa in our robes, and I could do your nails for you, and I could pop some popcorn.”

“I will never say no to you offering to do my nails, that all sounds great.”

Harry gets into his robe and meets you to the sofa after you’ve cleaned the bedroom. You come over with some popcorn and a couple of beers. You let him pick through your polish colors, and you let him pick the movie. Believe it or not he really wanted to watch To All The Boys I Loved Before.

“Read the book when I was younger.”

“Don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

You take his old polish off and file his nails. You end up painting them a nice pastel blue and purple.

“How’s it look?”

“Perfect, thank you.” You lean in to kiss him.

“You’re more than welcome.”

“Now, come lay with me so I can spoon you. Time to may some attention to the other bum in this house.”

You giggle and lay down with him, one of his legs slipping between you. He holds onto you and you both enjoy the movie. When you think about what had happened only an hour or so prior, you feel like anyone on the outside looking in would think it was weird. Or that maybe Harry wasn’t as into women as he led on. But you knew none of that was the case. It didn’t matter what anyone else thought because it wasn’t weird for either of you. And if there was one thing Harry loved, it was a vagina. It wasn’t really about him needing or wanting something up his butt. It was about the two of you exploring something together, and seeing where the journey took you.

You roll onto your back and he looks down at you with an eyebrow raised.

“I love you.” You say.

“I love you too.” He says back, and gives you a tender kiss.

Even though he had just been freshly fucked, and he honestly still looked like it, he had caught a second wind. Before you knew it the two of you were giggling with your legs over his shoulders while he fucked you on the sofa. Yup, he still had complete control.

[apriorisea]

BTS Imagine Series: Don’t Leave Me, Pt. 6

Hoseok x You

When he wakes up the next morning, it takes him a second to realize where he is. He automatically reaches for you---when he finds nothing but empty air, his world implodes all over again.       The living room. Of his apartment. The TV is still on. You’re still not there.       Flinging one arm over his eyes, he lies still for a long moment. I miss her I miss her I miss her I miss her I miss her I miss her I miss her I miss her I miss her.      The buzzing of his phone causes him to nearly fall off the couch, unable to find the stupid device in the cushions. Finally, he scoops it into hand and touches the screen, desperate to see your name---      Instead he finds only messages from the other members in the Group chat. Nothing important.       The disappointment is crushing, settling on top of his lungs like a weight.       It was fortunate that they had all decided to take the day off; he knew he couldn’t manage to face them right now, to admit that you were gone, that he’d messed up, that he’d lost you.       The tears sting his eyes and he throws his arm over them again. How could I do this?       Lying there in the almost-silence, he becomes more aware of the pain. His muscles, his joints, his knee. That knot in his shoulders, the pounding in his head. The weight on his chest, the hole in his heart.       I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you      Taking a deep breath to fight down the tears, he brokenly mutters: “I’m sorry.” He’s talking to you, though you’re still not there. I miss you.       Before long, the overwhelming amount of pain is too much. He glances at his phone screen one more time---still no message from you---and lets the darkness swallow him. Gingerly curling into a ball on his side (supporting the injured knee on a couch pillow) he falls into a miserable sleep.

-----

Day 1 without Hobi.        It’s the first thing that pops into your mind when you wake up.        Actually, it’s the second. The first thing you do when your sore and still-swollen eyes open is roll over and reach for him. You find nothing but empty bed and your world implodes all over again.        You force yourself to take a deep breath--don’t cry don’t cry--and reach for your phone. Preparing yourself for even more disappointment, you touch the screen.        4 texts from your best friend.       2 from your mom.       1 from your coworker.       And 0 from Hoseok.        Even though you’d tried to prep yourself, the sadness eats its way through your protective shell. Nothing. Is this the but? you think bitterly. “I love you--but when I hurt you and lie to you and you storm out angry, I’m just going to let you go?”       You remember your best friend’s words from the night before. “Protecting me,” you whisper, unable to stop yourself from reaching out to touch his empty pillow. “From what?”       The familiar burning in your eyes makes you sit up. “No.” No more crying. Not now.        At some point, he’d contact you. He’d have to.        And, more likely, Namjoon would message you. He wouldn’t hear the news from his friend and not reach out to you.       You force yourself to take another small breath. All you had to do was distract yourself for the day. Just until you heard from one of them. Just a little longer.       I can do that. 

----

He wakes up at 3pm and everything still hurts.      He doesn’t even have to reach for you this time. He already knows.       He goes back to sleep.

----

9:30pm.       You climb into bed and look at your phone: still nothing. It twists your heart in a way that makes you feel like you can’t breathe.        Blinking back tears (again) you send a message to your best friend: You can read this, right?       He answers immediately: The text? Yes...      You give in to the tears: Oh okay, so my phone IS working.       “GENIUS”: ...No messages, huh?       Before you can answer, he messages you again:      “GENIUS”: I’m so sorry. Need me to come over again?       As much as you appreciated him and his offer, the last thing you wanted to do was talk about it again. This morning you had felt so hopeful, certain that something would happen, but now...Now all you wanted was to curl up and cry yourself to sleep. Thanks, but I’m okay. Gonna turn in early. Goodnight.       You don’t even look at his response.       He’s not the person you want a text from, anyway. 

----

Day 2 without Hobi.       This time when you wake up, you don’t reach for him; you just stare at his empty space for ten minutes. Then you roll yourself out of bed, get dressed, grab a granola bar, and drive to work.       Still no messages, but you weren’t really expecting any---low expectations and all. You’d had to use a lot of concealer to cover up the dark circles under your eyes, though that didn’t help how puffy they still were. Thankfully, none of your coworkers felt like chatting this morning. They left you alone. In silence.        When your phone buzzes just before lunch, you talk yourself down before you even look at it. It’s nothing. It’s not him. Don’t get your hopes up.        The rush of adrenaline and then plummeting disappointment you feel when you see Jimin’s name on the screen leaves you dizzy. You take a small breath before opening the message; you loved Jimin, of course, but he is not the first member you would have picked to reach out to you after hearing the news.       JIMIN: Hey~~~~ Can you come by when you get off work?? Jin-hyung and I need some help.       You stare at the message. Need some help? What does that mean? And no mention of the break-up....Oh. Jimin usually had the most tact of the 7 members; this was probably just his way of getting you to come by so you all  could talk, get your side of the story. It scared you how much you were aching for an opportunity to talk with them, to get their feedback. It’s not him, but it’s close enough for now.       You shoot him a reply and then get back to work, but your mind is full of other things. Maybe you’d finally get some answers. Maybe the guys could offer some insight. Maybe by the end of the day, you’d feel a little less devastated. Maybe...       From the moment you enter the boardroom, though, something is off. Jimin greets you with his customary enthusiasm, sweeping you into a tight hug of wriggly-puppy excitement. Jin is, of course, a little more guarded, but even he seems happy. Comfortable.       What is going on?       They sit you in a chair between them and Jimin gets started right away: “Okay, so, this year, because of the tour, we decided to celebrate Yoongi-hyung and Hobi-hyung’s birthdays together.”      “B...birthdays?” You’re reeling.       “Yeah.” Jin seems to sense something’s wrong, because he smiles at you gently. “Usually, we’d do separate celebrations, but there’s just no time this year...So we thought it’d be great to do them together, so everyone can be there. What do you think?”      What do I think??? “Yeah, that sounds....Sounds...” you can’t even think of a lie. You bring one hand to massage your forehead. Are they pretending?     Jimin’s frowning. “Noona, what?” When you don’t answer, he reaches out and gently pulls your hand away from your forehead. “Are you okay?”      “If you’d rather do something different,” Jin says, backpedaling away from his perceived misstep, “Then we can do that, for sure. We just thought this would...be....”      You weren’t even aware that you were crying again until you see the horrified expressions on their faces. “You...you don’t know?” you manage eventually.     Jimin, who has his arm wrapped around your shoulders, trades a panicked glance with Jin. “Know? Know what?”      The stabbing pain in your gut intensifies. He hadn’t told them. He hadn’t said a word to his best friends, his family, his brothers. I mean so little to him that he didn’t even bother mentioning it to any of them??       “What’s going on?” Jin is desperately uncomfortable. “Are you hurt?”      You finally manage to find your voice. “Hoseok and I....aren’t together anymore.”      Jimin’s mouth falls open in shock. “I---what??”      “He didn’t--didn’t say anything?”      They shake their heads wordlessly.       “Oh.” It hurts. It hurts so much. “I love you, but....”      “Noona,” Jimin says quietly, trying to look into your face. “What happened?”      In a shaky voice, you give them the short version. When you’re finished, you can’t understand the expressions on their faces; all you know is that you want to be somewhere, anywhere else. You rocket to your feet. “I’m sorry,” you blurt out in response to their surprise. “I just, I don’t feel like I should be here right now. Like I can be here. I...I need to go. Take care.” You rush out of the room without waiting for them to respond.       Once you get in your car, you dial your best friend, listening to the phone ring through the car speakers as you leave the parking garage in a hurry. You can feel yourself almost hyperventilating as his voicemail clicks on. “He didn’t even tell them,” you say immediately after the beep. “All of the other members--his best friends---he didn’t even tell them! They had NO clue. So, what, now I’m not important enough to even be mentioned? Why wouldn’t he...why wouldn’t he say anything?” You’re crying again, wiping at your face incessantly so you can see the road ahead of you. “I love him,” you choke out. “I thought he was the one, I really did. But....Why wasn’t I enough? Why didn’t he let me into his life? Why does he keep shutting me out? What did I do? What’s wrong with me?”      At this point, you’re just rambling, making use of the empty space to get out every last bit of hurt.       “I feel like an idiot. Here I am, thinking he is THE ONE, and he doesn’t even care about me enough to cry about our break-up to his brothers?? I was all in, and he couldn’t even tell me the truth about how he was feeling, about his injuries...I’m so dumb.” You take your first deep inhale, and there’s a long pause. “And you know what the dumbest thing is? I still miss him. Even now, all I can think about is driving to his place and seeing him again. I hate it. I hate h--” you bite down on your tongue. “I don’t hate him,” you admit brokenly. “I wish I did.”       You change your mind at the next light, turning left and heading for the river; you didn’t want to go back to your silent apartment right now. “Anyway. Call me when you get a chance, okay? I just...I had been hoping things would work out, honestly, but now...Now it feels impossible. Please tell me if you think I’m wrong. But...Anyway. Bye.”      How could I have been so blind?

----

“Hey!” Jungkook grins brightly as Jimin and Jin walk into the room. “You guys finish everything?” He gives them a knowing look, as subtle as a bull in a china shop.       “Not now.” Jimin looks angry, and his attention is focused on Hoseok. “What happened?” he demands.       The practice room falls silent.       Looking quickly between the silent Hoseok and the fuming Jimin, Yoongi tries to intervene. “What’s going on?”      Jin’s more gentle in his approach. “Why didn’t you say anything?”      “Say anything?” Taehyung panics. “Say anything about what?” His eyes go immediately to Hoseok’s recently injured knee.       “When were you going to tell us you guys aren’t together anymore?” Jimin stays on track.      “Oh no,” Jungkook’s eyes are wide.      Namjoon looks at his friend. “Hob-ah...” he says sadly, and it’s this muted reaction that captures the room’s attention; he waits until Hoseok looks over at him. “I was afraid of this.”      “I wasn’t...” Hoseok speaks for the first time. “I didn’t know what to say.”      He sounds so pitiful and uncharacteristically lost that it completely takes the fire out of Jimin. Sitting hard on the floor next to his older brother, his voice is softer as he says, “She said...you never told her about the knee injury on tour? That you lied to her.”     He swallows. “That’s true.”     “Wh---why?”     “I didn’t want to lose her!” The confession comes out wild and desperate. His voice echoes around the practice room, and in the silence that follows, he takes a small breath: “This life...you know how tough it is, not just on us, but on those closest to us. All the stress, the drama, the intensity of it all, it---I was afraid of letting her in too close too soon. I was afraid that she’d see it all and decide it wasn’t worth it. I was afraid that she’d walk away, like---” He clamps his mouth shut, but it’s too late.     Releasing a long, heavy breath, the oldest brother sits down next to Jimin. “Like my ex,” Jin finishes for him.      “So....why didn’t you just tell her that?” Yoongi asks after a moment.     “I---” Hoseok looks at him, lost for words. “She was...she was so angry, and hurt, and I...I couldn’t think straight. And she kept saying things about how I don’t trust her, and questioning if I love her, and I just...”     “Who ended it?” asks Taehyung quietly.        The tears jump back into Hoseok’s eyes. “She told me...she told me not to call her. Or touch her...” He can still see the fury and heartbreak in your eyes as you screamed at him in his studio. “I tried to message her as soon as she left, but she told me to stop. She didn’t want to hear from me anymore.” The tears escaped. “I messed up.”     Jimin has him in a hug almost immediately, but it’s Namjoon who speaks first: “She still loves you. She might be mad right now, but you know she loves you.”      “How could she?” he asks unevenly; his mind is fuzzy with the pain of the topic, missing you, and the steady ache coming from his entire body. “How could she still love me after how I treated her? I lied to her. And then, to her face, I swore I didn’t lie to her! I wouldn’t forgive me either. She deserves better than that, and I--I’m not better than that. Obviously.”      “Hyung,” Jungkook sounds pained. “Don’t be so hard on yourself.”      “She’ll understand,” Yoongi agrees quietly. “You just need to talk to her.”      “...What if she doesn’t understand?” He looks directly at Namjoon.       “You really have that little faith in her?” he asks plainly.        There’s a sudden disturbance as the dance crew and choreographers walk in, and Hoseok hastily wipes at his face.        Taehyung has a thoughtful look on his face. “I think...” he hesitates, but when they all turn to look at him, he pushes forward. “Maybe don’t call her tonight. She might need some space still---it sounds like she was pretty hurt.”       “She was devastated,” Jin says quietly, putting a hand on Hoseok’s shoulder as he reacts to the statement.      “But call her first thing tomorrow,” Taehyung finishes. “You guys need each other.”      Hoseok nods slowly, turning their words over in his mind carefully. Not wanting to make a scene, the others start to dissipate, chatting casually with the dancers and stretching. Only Namjoon remains at Hoseok’s side.      “I wish you’d told me,” he says quietly. “She’s probably furious at me, too, for not saying anything.”      “The look on her face...” Hoseok’s gaze is unfocused as he remembers. “I swore that I’d never hurt her, but the way she looked at me...”     Namjoon puts a hand on his shoulder. “Hey. Don’t dwell on it now. Let’s get through today first. I’ll find out how she’s feeling and let you know. Okay?”      Falteringly, Hoseok meets his friend’s eyes. “Okay.”

----

You get Namjoon’s message just as you pull into your parking space.      JOONIE: Are you okay?     Releasing a long, unsteady breath, you turn off your car and look at the message for a long time. You’d spent the last few hours walking along the river, and somewhere at the midway point, you’d lost your anger towards your birthday-buddy friend. In fact, you weren’t really angry at anything anymore. You were pretty sure you were all cried out, too. The ache of missing Hoseok, of knowing he didn’t care that much about you, had numbed over, grown dull over the course of time and your endless thoughts.     Your best friend had called you back, and you’d spent over an hour talking it out with him. This time, you’d insisted you didn’t want to hear his opinion.       But now....you were too tired to rant anymore. Too tired to be angry. Too tired to feel anything except heartache.          YOU: Not really.      His response is immediate: I’m so sorry. I didn’t know, or else I would’ve reached out earlier.       Of course you didn’t know, you think bitterly. I’m not important enough to mention. But to him, you say only: It’s fine. Honestly, I’m really worn out today. I don’t really want to talk about it right now.       JOONIE: Of course. Can we talk tomorrow?       YOU: Sure.      JOONIE: Get some sleep. It’s gonna be okay.       Okay. Sure.      Moving like a zombie, you make it into your apartment. Dropping your purse, keys, and jacket in a pile near the door, you slip off your shoes and head straight for the shower. You turn the water as hot as you can bear and spend nearly an hour standing under the jetstreams before you even think about washing your hair. You spend 15 minutes just staring at his bottle of shampoo.       When you finally climb out, wrapping yourself in the fluffiest towel, it’s almost 2 hours later: your skin is wrinkled, but you feel a little less empty. Wrapping your dripping hair in a towel, you pull on your comfiest pair of leggings and then stand, stuck, in front of the closet. Two sweatshirts were in easy reach; one of them yours, the other his. You wage a silent battle with yourself for nearly 10 minutes before finally, brokenly, reaching for the one that belongs to him.       Pulling it on, you inhale his scent and feel just a little less broken. I miss you.       Too tired to spend time drying your hair, you free it from the towel and spend a few seconds quickly braiding it out of your face. How can I still miss him so much?      It’s when you reach for your favorite pair of long socks that you see the alert on your phone: a voicemail from an unknown number.       Perfect, you think sarcastically. Just what I need.       You put it on speaker and access the inbox, hitting play as you pull on the first sock.      The sound of his voice makes your heart drop.      “Angel? I--I need you. Please. I’m scared, can you---can you just come here?” A ragged, inhaled breath. “I’m--I’m at the hospital.”

[solange-lol]

who is he (and what is he to you?) - ch. 1/3

words: 1,720

solangeloweek day 1: fathers day

read on ao3

Will Solace has never been nervous to travel. 

He used to go on vacations with his mom when they could afford it, although most of those were road trips. Then, when he got older and started working for the magazine company he currently works for, he was sent on all sorts of business trips. Will got used to traveling; used to flying and being in different places every couple of nights.

It’s less the plane ride that he’s nervous for and more the actual reason why he’s going. Yes, it is technically a business trip, but its a business trip to Texas and Will thinks he’s found his father. The one that walked out of their house when he was barely a year old and never looked back. The one that never sent birthday cards or went to Will’s graduation, who didn’t even attempt to contact Will once he was older. 

It was an accident, really, that he found his father. 

Of all things it was an ad on his Instagram feed that popped up, promoting a touring band called Apollo with lead singer Lester Papadopoulos. Seeing his father’s name not spoken from his mother for the first time was a bit of a shock.

The universe had a cruel sense of humor though, or so it seemed, as their gig in Austin, Texas lined up right as Will was headed there for a business trip slash unplanned reunion with his mom. 

The opportunity was at Will’s feet, practically begging him to finally find out what kind of man his father really is. Or more likely, have Will give him a piece of his mind.

“You good?” A voice from behind him came. His coworker and best friend Nico was also assigned this trip with him (like usual, and thank god for that). 

Nico bumps their shoulders together as the two of them board. “Usually I’m the one with plane anxiety.”

Will pushes back his thoughts and replaces them with a smile. “It’s not that. Can’t say I’m completely looking forward to three days of conferencing, though.”

“Tell me about it!” Nico groans, practically throwing back his head as the two of them settled in their seats, preparing for the four-hour flight from New York to Austin. “Last time we were stuck in one of those, I pretended to be taking so many notes but I was just doodling!”

Will laughs. “I remember that one. We played hangman at one point,” he reminds Nico, which just causes him to go onto retelling many stories about conference days. It was one of Nico’s ways of calming down before the plane took off, but also gave Will time to zone off again about his father.

He has the date, location, and time of the bar that Lester and his band were playing at just in case. The thought was burning in the back of his mind just like it had been ever since Will first saw the ad, and he imagines it wasn’t going to leave until Will just sucked it up and faced his deadbeat of a dad. 

“Is your mom still upset that we aren’t staying with her?” Nico asks, pulling Will from his thoughts once again. (Though not completely. Like he said, burning in the back of his mind.)

“I think right now she is, but once we take over her house during the day, demanding food and laundry, she’ll be glad to have the space to herself at night.”

“We are not demanding anything from your mother,” Nico replies indignantly.

“You might change your mind about that once you taste her cookies.”

They’re cut off as the engine begins to roar, and Nico squeezes his eyes shut, grabbing Will’s hand. Even after a few years of working together, he’s still scared of planes. He has the same reaction to every flight. 

Will had offered his hand on their second flight ever together, and every flight since then, to the point in which he just takes it when he feels they’re about to take off. It’s one of their weird business trip traditions.

Will notices an older man eyeing their hands from across the aisle, making him nearly roll his eyes at the guy. For one, they’re not even dating. And if they were, what was the big whoop? Were people still sensitive to two guys holding hands in this day and age? 

It didn’t matter, he supposes, because there was no way Nico was letting go until they reached a level relationship to the ground.

⁠—

Naomi Solace was waiting for them as soon as they got their bags. She had insisted that even while they weren’t staying with her for the trip, the least she could do was provide them some transportation so they wouldn’t have to rent a car.

Nico was visibly uncomfortable, Will could tell. He’s tried explaining multiple times that his mother is the last person to be afraid of as long as you don’t hurt Will or mention his father, neither of which Nico had done. It didn’t help to calm him down though. 

That worry seemed to melt the moment Naomi catches their eyes, immediately waving them over with the brightest smile on her face.

She hugs Will first, of course, who could feel relief spreading through his body when she wraps his arms around him. Even with all the crazy going on around them, it was comforting to know that his mom was there for him. (Not that she knew Will’s other reason for the trip, nor would she. It would crush her, and he can’t handle that right now.)

After she finally lets go of Will, she immediately goes to Nico. Will winces, cursing at himself internally that he hadn’t told his mom that Nico didn’t like to be touched without warning until he realized that he can’t even help but to relax into one of Naomi’s hugs.

The tension had completely dissolved by the time they got to the car, leaving Will to excitedly tell Nico all about the area that he had grown up in.

“Schlitterbahn!” he cries excitedly, causing Nico to give him a confused look.

“Bless you?” he says, more like a question than a statement, causing both Will and Naomi to laugh.

“Not a sneeze,” Will says giddily. “Just the best waterpark ever!”

Nico still looks confused (has he never been to a waterpark?) but he seems content with letting will rediscover his past. Will’s grateful for it, especially considering it takes his mind off his father.

It also makes Will realize something. Something huge, unknown to Nico, and only a select part of the southern experience. He turns to Nico with a near-crazed grin. “Have you ever had Whataburger?”

“Had a what-a-what?” 

“We have to take him there for dinner, mom!” Will’s voice is pitched higher than normal, dripping with pure childlike excitement. Next to him, Naomi’s smile was much more calm, only laughing at her son’s antics

 Meanwhile, Nico looks like he’s almost expecting Naomi to say know. Lord knows how many times Will has refused to go to McDonald’s with Nico for dinner on business trips. That changes as soon as Naomi takes a quick turn into a parking lot. 

Will nearly pulls Nico out of the car as she parks, dragging him towards the bright orange and white doors of the restaurant. 

“I know you’re a devoted McDonald’s fan, but at least give this a try,” he says, walking Nico up to the counter. “I think we might be able to change your mind.”

Once the three order their food, they sit down together at a booth. Will ends up sliding next to his mom rather than Nico, which is a force of habit after many restaurant trips spent sitting across from each other. 

Both Naomi and Will eagerly watched as Nico took the first bite of his burger. He chewed comically slow, making vague facial expressions before swallowing. He pauses, then decides “It’s alright.”

“Alright?” Will nearly yells, trying not to laugh through his words.

Nico’s face breaks out in a grin. “Okay, maybe it’s better than alright. I still think McDonald’s is my number one, though.”

Will rolls his eyes. “We need to get you some new taste buds.”

⁠—

Later, Will flops back happily on the hotel bed. He sighs contentedly as several joints in his back pop, savoring the feeling of resting for the first since they got off the plane. 

After dinner, they gave Nico a quick car tour of the city of Austin before Naomi dropped them off at the hotel they’re staying at. They’ll have plenty of time to explore the city tomorrow after some much needed rest. 

Will hears a soft laugh coming from next to him. He rolls to his side to face Nico, who’s sitting cross-legged on the bed across from him as he bemusedly watches Will stretches.

“Comfortable?” Nico asks, grinning. Will’s taken aback for a moment by how soft his best friend looks at that moment in black sweatpants and a soft gray-green t-shirt. He’s actually very pretty, and for a moment Will wonders what it would be like to cuddle with him.

He shakes that thought away with a smile, dramatically stretching his arms above his head. “Very.”

Nico laughs again, uncrossing his legs and scooching up to the headboard of the bed. “Not quite like my bed at home-”

“But better than some of the others we’ve had,” Will finished, nodding. He mirrors Nico’s actions, sliding under the covers of his own bed and reaching to plug his phone in. He's not really that tired, but he doesn’t want to think about the day ahead of him tomorrow anymore.

“Hope you’re ready for some epic rounds of hangman tomorrow,” Nico says as Will reaches to turn off the lamp next to him. 

He grins in response. “It’s the highlight of these conferences.”

Nico rolls his eyes. “We need to stop agreeing to these trips.”

“Yeah, maybe,” he laughs. “Goodnight, Nico.”

“Goodnight, Will.”

He rolls over, facing away from Nico as he tries to force himself to fall asleep. His mind is still racing, though, overlapping thoughts about his mother and his father, and even Nico himself. 

All he could do was close his eyes until he fitfully fell asleep.

⁠—

solangelo tag list (message to be added/removed)

@internallyexplodingrainbows @unicornsgomooo @anxiouswinter @soulangelou @number-of-fucks-i-give-0 @underworldystuff @theeloquentsnake @solangelover@thefandomsaretakingover @internallyexplodingrainbows​ @hairasuntouchedaspartoftheamazon​ @motivatedcryptidtamer @emilyfairchild @wherethewildthingsare-nt @hetapeep41 @blavk-dahlia

[cozy-the-overlord]

Crimson Curls

Summary:  A barista at the Avengers Tower coffeeshop goes missing. Her boyfriend, prominent Avengers engineer Michael Hauer, headlines a desperate campaign to find her, aided by the support of Tony Stark and the rest of the super-powered team. But as Hauer’s narrative begins to unravel, it becomes clear that a certain Asgardian prince knows more than he’s telling.

Pairing: Loki x Original Female Character

Chapter 3: Solace

Previous Chapter |

Word Count: 4,281

A/N:  Final chapter! Hope you like it :) Thank you so much for reading!

TW: domestic violence

Read it on Ao3

“Oh, did I mention that I finally convinced my mom to buy a smartphone?” Elaine was chuckling. “She just discovered the world of emojis. Every text I get from her is immediately followed by like twenty different happy faces!”

Laughter erupted up around the small table. Kristine found herself giggling too, despite herself. She almost hadn’t come tonight. She didn’t think the others had expected her to come, either: Curt had invited her with a nervous sort of hesitance that gave her plenty of room to back out.  “It’s okay if you don’t want to come. We totally understand.”

The excuses had bubbled to her lips in an instinctual panic—I can’t, I have plans, I’m not feeling well—but she clamped down on her tongue before they spilled out. Her therapist was always telling her that the only way she could take back control of her life was to trust herself to control it. So, Kristine swallowed her insecurities and smiled at her coworker.

“I’d love to. What time?”

It hadn’t been a perfect night. Old habits die hard, and Kristine found herself looking over her shoulder more often than not. Every time, she’d turn back to the table, feeling stupid. What did she expect to see? Michael lurking behind the bar in his orange jumpsuit? Her fellow baristas had to notice—if there was one thing that this whole ordeal had taught her, it was that she was incapable of subtlety—but they were kind enough not to say anything.

It had been fun, though—more fun than she had expected. Kristine hadn’t realized how little she knew the people she worked alongside. She found herself learning all sorts of things. Curt played rugby on the weekends. Kristine hadn’t even known rugby was a thing in America, but apparently he was in an amateur league right in New York, and went straight to practices after work on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Tasha was a self-titled crazy cat lady, with five felines living with her in her small apartment. She passed around her phone with pictures of the newest kitten, a tiny orange fluffball named Tigger. Elaine was locked in a never-ending struggle with her 63-year-old mother to “introduce her to the 21st century.”

At first, Kristine had felt guilty that she didn’t have any captivating stories to contribute to the conversation. Her only hobby was her art, and there wasn’t much to say about that. I draw people when I’m bored. Certainly nothing compared to Curt’s gripping account of how his friend fractured his neck in a game two weeks ago. But there was no pressure for her to add anything, and slowly, Kristine relaxed, content just listening to the chat.

The couple at the table across from them caught her eye towards the end of their meal. They had been whispering to each other ever since they sat down, looking back and forth between Kristine and their phone screen. She stiffened as they gestured towards her. Getting recognized in public… that was a thing she still couldn’t wrap her head around. She didn’t understand why seeing her made people so excited… it wasn’t like she was a singer, or an actress, or some other type of celebrity. She was just… her. Normal. No different than anybody else she passed on the sidewalk.

Kristine tried to ignore the excited couple and turn back to the conversation, but it was hard with the tell-tale clicking of a cell phone camera to her right. She closed her eyes. Just ignore them. Just ignore them.

The camera shutter soon caught the attention of the others, however. Elaine stopped what she was saying and turned to glare at the other table.

“Hey!” she snapped at the couple. Kristine jumped at the sudden shout. “Knock it off! She doesn’t want pictures!”

The two were stricken. Mumbling an apology, they turned back to their dinner.

“Thanks,” Kristine murmured, eyes downcast. It seemed she couldn’t go anywhere these days without being interrupted by someone. She couldn’t imagine how annoying that must have been for those she was with. “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Elaine said. “It’s not your fault that people act like dumbasses around famous people.”

Famous people.

Kristine wasn’t sure how to feel about that. Should she be upset that the whole world seemed to know every intimate detail of her broken life, or should she be honored that they cared? Because they did care—that was maybe the most shocking part of it all. Once she woke up in April, after the whirlwind of finding herself in the Loki’s penthouse room and getting examined by the Avengers’ private doctor team and being interviewed by police investigators for hours, she finally looked at the Twitter hashtags that had been trending while she slept. It was… surreal.

Just saw the news about the blood in the apartment and I’m crying. I want her to be alive so badly, but I don’t think she is anymore. Please, @NYPD, don’t let this monster get away with her murder. #ArrestMichaelHauer #WheresTheBodyMichael? #JusticeForKristine

He controlled her, abused her, and tried to blame her for her own disappearance. Do NOT let him get away with it. #ArrestMichaelHauer #WheresTheBodyMichael? #JusticeForKristine

She’s such a beautiful girl. I hope they find her and that the boyfriend gets what he deserves. #JusticeForKristine

There were thousands of them. Thousands, and not a single handle she recognized. Perfect strangers, rushing from across the country to fight for her.

When Loki had returned with tea, he had found her in tears.

“What’s wrong?” he had asked, rushing to her side by the computer.

Kristine shook her head. “There’s just so many,” she whispered. “I never thought there would be so many!”

After the announcement was made that she had been found, alive and well, she thought the support would stop, but the floodgates had only just been opened. She started getting messages addressed directly to her, from tweets that read like letters to actual letters in the mail. Kristine had never gotten a letter in her life, and yet here she was having to open a special PO box because of all the mail coming into Avengers Tower addressed to her.

She got letters from people who followed the case, people who were so relieved to find that she was okay that they had to let her know. There were people she had never met, writing to tell her that she was beautiful and talented and deserved so much better than the likes of Michael. There were people writing to tell her that they hoped she knew that they would always support her, even if they could never understand what she had been through.

And then there were the people who understood exactly what she had been through. Some days, she found herself reading stories from women she didn’t know that read like pages from her own diary. Kristine had always been aware that she wasn’t the only person with a significant other like Michael—she had seen the PSA’s on television, she knew the words “domestic violence”—but somehow, she had always felt like the only one. Who else in real life was foolish enough to get into such a situation, and who else was weak enough to stay? But there were others.

So many others.

Those letters were overwhelming in a completely different way.

Kristine hid them all away, in a cardboard box underneath her bed in her Avengers Tower apartment. She had been staying there ever since she woke up: Mr. Stark had insisted. She had never really liked Tony Stark. He was fun to draw, because his face was so recognizable, but to her, that was where his merits always ended. Maybe it was because he adored Michael so much: every party she went to, he made a point of telling her how lucky she was that she snagged such a talented man. He provoked a deep bitterness in her chest, masked only by her anxiety. Kristine never had any doubts that if it came down to her word against Michael’s, Mr. Stark wouldn’t even bother to hear her out.

She couldn’t believe it when Loki told her Stark had fired Michael. He had done it early on, too: before the blood and the knife had even been discovered.

“The phone calls?” she whispered hoarsely. “That’s all it took?”

Loki looked at her sideways. “Those calls were horrific,” he said. “He’d have to be soulless not to terminate him after hearing them.”

And then, when she realized that she would have to find a new place to live now that Michael was in jail, Mr. Stark insisted that she stay at the Tower, at least until she found a suitable apartment elsewhere. He told her to consider it his way of apologizing.

“But—you don’t have to—to apologize for anything, sir,” she stuttered, unable to look him in the eye.

Mr. Stark was adamant. “This whole shitshow comes back to me. I hired him, I hired you, he met you because of it. Matchmaker, remember?” He shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. “No, it all comes back to me.”

Kristine wasn’t so sure of that, but she was touched by his guilt. He had even offered to send his Iron Legion to retrieve her stuff for her, but she elected to do that herself, with Loki. There wasn’t much to retrieve: clothes, art supplies, little bits and baubles she had taken with her when she moved to New York.

She froze in the doorway when they first walked in. The floor was as clean as ever, and yet in her mind she could still see the sticky red trail, the sickly warmth seeping down her shirt. It had taken a minute to process that all that blood had been coming from her.

Loki squeezed her hand gently. “If you’d prefer,” he murmured into her hair, in a voice just barely loud enough for her to hear, “You don’t have to go in. Just tell me what you wish to fetch, and I’ll take care of it.”

She shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut. “No. No. I’m—I’m fine. Let’s go.”

Still, the events of that night played out in her head as she made her way through the apartment. How Michael had been ordering that she quit her job at the coffeeshop. He had been wanting her to quit for a while now, convinced that she was constantly flirting with other men while he was at work. If she loved him, he said, she’d prove it by doing this one thing for him.

Kristine refused. Honestly, her resolve surprised herself. At this point, she had learned that the only way to keep the peace was to cave to Michael’s wishes, but this demand stirred something in her. The barista job was the last thing she had left, the only thing he couldn’t touch. She told him he couldn’t make her quit even if he killed her for it.

She had regretted the words immediately. He lunged at her with wild eyes, that vein popping in his neck. When she tried to call Loki, he ripped the phone from her hands and flung her into the coat rack.

Kristine had scrambled into the kitchen area. She had grabbed the knife in a panic, some half baked idea of defending herself, but he was on top of her before she had time to think, shouting at her and wrestling for the handle.

And then it was in her.

She didn’t feel it go in. Even after it went in, it wasn’t that bad—just a dull stinging in her abdomen that seemed to pulse with her heartbeat. She looked down slowly, dazedly, reaching out to grip the handle buried in her stomach. Michael looked down too, mouth agape. Kristine remembered thinking that he looked like a fish.

She wasn’t sure how she got back into the hallway floor, but Michael was yelling at her again.

“What the fuck were you thinking, going for the knife? Are you fucking insane?”

She was breathing hard, and it hurt more with every breath, sending shockwaves of pain through her body. Blood was dripping down her front. Her blood, she recognized dimly.

That was the scene Loki had arrived at. She didn’t remember much after that.

That moment ensnared her as she stuffed shirts into her ratty old suitcase. Loki didn’t talk about what he saw much, but it was clear from what he did say that he was certain Michael meant to kill her. She supposed she couldn’t blame him—had she seen what he saw, she probably would have drawn the same conclusion. But as it stood, Kristine wasn’t so sure. Maybe he would’ve finished her off, had her Asgardian knight in shining armor not come to rescue her, but she couldn’t forget his shocked fish face recoil when the blade pierced her stomach.

“What were you thinking Kristine?”

Why was she so hung up on this? What did it matter what Michael might’ve done if given the chance? The only important thing was what he did do: he hurt her, he manipulated her, he stabbed her. Wasn’t that enough?

It was enough for him to be arrested. Or… remain arrested, she guessed. Of course, the murder charge was dropped once it was proven that no murder had taken place, but police were quick to smack him with attempted murder and numerous charges of assault and battery. News outlets were constantly reaching out for comment, but Mr. Stark shut them all down for her.

“Ms. Ververs has been through a very traumatic experience,” he said at a press conference. “She has no desire to comment on anything at the moment, and we at Avengers Tower would greatly appreciate it if you all stopped pestering her.”

“Well, Kris, it looks like you’ve made it,” Agent Romanov said to her as they watched coverage from the television in the penthouse. “You’ve got Tony Stark acting as your PR. You can either celebrate or be extremely concerned.”

Kristine forced a laugh. Out of all her new super-powered roommates, the Black Widow was easily the most intimidating. Still, she seemed to like Kristine for some reason. Actually, all of the Avengers seemed to like her. Dr. Banner seemed to enjoy striking up quiet conversation with her, completely unbothered by her inability to get a coherent sentence out when she was nervous. Captain Rodgers was impressed by her artwork, always ready with some new compliment that made her day. Thor never failed to greet her with a smile.

Kristine was pretty sure they were just being nice because they felt bad for her, but she decided not to let it bother her. It made her feel nice too.

They were all outraged on her behalf when Michael took a plea deal. He plead guilty to attempted murder in the second degree in exchange for all other charges being dropped and was sentenced to seven years in prison.

“Seven years,” fumed Loki when the news broke. “He could have killed you, and he only gets seven years. It’s ludicrous.”

Despite popular opinion, Kristine was relieved. If Michael had pled innocent, there would have been a trial. She would have had to sit on the witness stand and face him down as she attempted to tell her story in front of dozens of eyes. Seven years was more than enough for her.

The check was paid, and the group made ready to leave, still laughing and telling stories as they walked through the door. Avengers Tower was only a short walk up the street, so Kristine said her goodbyes and started on her way. She never really went out much after the sun set. It was strange to think that even cloaked in night, the city still was wide awake. The night air sent shivers up her bare arms, but Kristine didn’t mind. She was wearing short sleeves a lot more these days, now that she didn’t have to worry about covering up bruises. It was freeing, in a strange sort of way.

Kristine noticed one of her missing posters taped to the stoplight while she waited to cross the street. The ink had mostly been washed away by recent thunderstorms, but she could still make out the outline of her face, grinning awkwardly at the ground.

It was a really awful picture they decided to plaster across the country. Michael had taken it, the morning after the first night they spent together. Her hair was a complete mess (but then when was it ever not?), and she had that uncomfortable photo smile she wore in every picture ever taken of her. She wasn’t even looking at the camera!—why on Earth had they chosen that one?  

She glanced around for a moment. When she saw that no one was looking, she ripped the poster from the pole and crumpled it into her purse. There wasn’t anything wrong with that. She hadn’t been missing for nearly half a year now, no reason to keep them up anymore. Still, Kristine crossed the street with the feeling in her stomach that she had committed a capital offense.

If her mother could have seen her now, she would have been laughing. Diana Ververs never understood her daughter’s desperate need to be seen by no one. It had been a problem her whole life. There was one time, all the way back in second grade, when Kristine had come home begging her mother to let her dye her hair brown so that she wouldn’t be the only redhead in the school.

At the request, her mom had tilted her head and frowned. “What’s wrong with that?”

“Everyone looks at me!” Kristine cried. “It’s ugly and I hate it!”

“Oh, Krissy, that’s not true!” she said. “They look at you because your hair is the prettiest color in the whole world. That’s why I married your dad, you know.”

The girl hadn’t been convinced. “I want brown hair!” she said. “Like Ashley and Erin.”

“But if you had brown hair like Ashley and Erin, I wouldn’t be able to recognize you,” her mother said, pulling her into her arms. “I’d say, ‘where’s my pretty little Krissy with her red hair?’ I’d be sad and lonely. You don’t want me to be sad and lonely, do you?”

Little Kristine had faltered at that. “Nnnooo…”

“Then you’ll keep your red hair for me?” she asked hopefully, kissing the crown of her head.

“Alright,” Kristine agreed reluctantly. “Just for you, Mama.”

Growing up, it had just been the two of them. Kristine’s father had died in a car accident before she was born, and they didn’t really have any extended family nearby. Kristine had been exceptionally close with her mother, closer than she had ever been with any friends or acquaintances she met at school. When the diagnosis came in, the ground just fell out from under her. What had been simple complaints of back pain was suddenly stage IV lung cancer, and Kristine was dropping out of her master’s program to help her mom through chemo.

Everything spiraled so fast. Within months, she was gone.

While she had been asleep, Kristine had dreamed about her mom. Her dad had been there too: Kristine recognized the diabolical red curls that he had so kindly passed down to her. They had swirled around her in a mist-filled limbo, smiling and singing to her in voices too quiet to hear properly. Kristine had wondered if she was dead. It made sense to her healing-stone-drugged brain: dying young was in her blood, after all. Death and her were old friends at this point, might as well embrace it.

Frustratingly though, her parents remained just out of reach. Kristine cried and screamed and begged, grasping at thin air for her mother’s hand, but she couldn’t quite bridge the distance. It wasn’t until she opened her eyes into the elegant chambers of Prince Loki and felt her groan vibrate in her throat that she realized she wasn’t dead after all.

Actually, it seemed her life might have just begun.

Kristine slid her ID card in the door of Avengers Tower, smiling awkwardly at the night watchman, then swiped it again in the elevator.

So much security. Sometimes, she almost forgot that she was living on what was essentially a government base. The elevator chimed as the doors opened at the top floor and she slipped into the common room.

“Did you have a good time?” Kristine jumped. Loki was stretched out on the couch, legs crossed elegantly, not even looking up from his book.

She raised an eyebrow. “Were-were you waiting up for me?”

“Of course not. Not everything’s about you, you know.” Loki turned the page, but there was a glint in his eye that made Kristine smile.

“Um…” she pushed her hair out of her face. “I think I’m going to make some tea. Want some?”

“That sounds lovely.”

Kristine fumbled around the kitchen as she heated the water, feeling his eyes on her all the while. She found herself stealing glances back at him as well—he just looked so regal, lounging there as if he owned the whole place. She wished she could get away with snapping a picture on her phone, just so she could have something to reference for a sketch later. Kristine had been drawing a lot of Loki recently—after all, she had promised—but she had yet to show any of these portraits to him. The floundering, bumbling part of her was convinced that they weren’t good enough, that he’d hate them. Stupid, she knew—he had nothing but praise to shower on the artwork she did decide to show him, but still she was nervous.

She wanted him to like her so badly. Like them. The drawings. But her too. Kind of. And that was stupid as well, because she knew he liked her. He had saved her life, after all. But even excluding that, Loki had always been so nice to her. Kristine had often wondered if he knew how badly she looked forward to his little visits every afternoon at the coffeeshop, the silly little chats they’d share for a few minutes. And he never stopped looking out for her: even now, months after everything had been resolved, he’d still check up on how she was feeling.

Still, sometimes she wondered. Did he actually like her, or were his actions just out of pity? It was a strange thing to consider, especially given his tumultuous past (imagine trying to explain to the average New Yorker that Loki of Asgard might have spent months being nice to some random girl just because he felt bad for her), but she considered it often, nonetheless. She didn’t know how to feel about it.

Kristine brought the teacups over to the couch. Loki sat up, moving his legs so that she could sit next to him, thanking her softly as she handed him the cup. For a while, they just sat there, sipping their tea in silence.

Finally, though, she found the courage to clear her throat. “Hey,” she asked. “Remember when you asked me to dance at the Christmas party?”

He grinned. “How could I forget?”

“Why did you?” she asked bluntly. Her cheeks immediately flushed red. “I mean—did you—could you tell? That he—Michael and I—that we—”

Luckily, Loki seemed to get what she was trying to spit out. “Not exactly,” he said, stirring his tea methodically. “I could tell that you were unhappy, and that he was completely unbothered by the fact that you were unhappy, and I found that to be concerning. But at that point, I never would have guessed the extent of the situation.”

No. It seemed no one could have guessed the extent of the situation. “Oh,” Kristine mumbled. “Is-is that why you asked me to dance? Because you were concerned?”

Loki raised his eyebrows, turning to fix Kristine with an amused gaze. “I asked you to dance because I wanted to dance with you.” When Kristine stared back at him in silence, he laughed. “Is that so difficult to believe?”

“N-no.” Now it was her turn to focus on stirring her tea and ignoring her companion. “I just… I’m not sure what happens now.”

“That would depend,” Loki said. “What do you wish to happen now?”

Kristine gulped. He had put the ball in her court. Even months later, she still found herself expecting someone to pop up and tell her exactly what to do. But Loki was waiting patiently. This decision was hers.

“I guess…” she started, speaking far too fast. “I mean, I wouldn’t mind if you took me out for coffee. Not in the Tower, I mean. There’s-there’s a place down the street. Unless you’d like the Tower better, that is. I don’t really care—”

Loki hushed her gently. “I’d be honored to take you out for coffee,” he said. “Would tomorrow morning suffice?”

It took her a full minute for her to fully process what he was saying, but once she did, Kristine couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across her lips. “Yeah. Yeah, that would… suffice.”

“Good.” Loki leaned back against the cushions, and silence lapsed around them once more. Kristine hesitated for a moment before following him, shyly resting her head on his shoulder. He stiffened at first, and Kristine made to pull away, but he wrapped his arm around her and held her closer.

She sighed contentedly. She was safe here.

Safe with Loki.

[taetaesbaebaepsae]

Red Lipstick

Commission for @lesbiansportsanime​ I hope you like it angel!

Summary: Zhang Yixing is so sweet to all the makeup artists and staff….so why isn’t he sweet to you, his new choreographer?

Warnings: Teasing, making out, no actual smut but it does get HOT

Word Count: 1359

"He's just so handsome and sweet," you hear your coworker chirp when you are at your desk one Friday. "All of them are nice but Yixing is a real peach."

"I know," another girl, the hairstylist, you think, says back. "I told him I liked gummies and now he always brings me a pack when he goes to the vending machine."

You huff a little, rearranging your supplies on your desk, which is really just a small area with some drawers and notebooks and your laptop.

You were new to SM, as a choreographer, and boy were you tired of hearing just how sweet and thoughtful Zhang Yixing was...to everyone but you.

You'd had good experiences with other idols, big smiles from other EXO members like Chanyeol and Baekhyun, but Yixing barely looked at you while you were working. Even during extensive dance choreography where you were making eye contact, he’d be touchy, eyes flashing, but then after instantly cold to you.

At first, you'd tried to make conversation, but he only responded with a nod or a grunt, not even giving you the time of day.

And this morning, when you'd made a real effort to look nice, wearing a white button up and an aline skirt, and smiled and waved at him when you'd come in, he'd barely even looked in your direction.

You pout, overhearing the other girls. You treated all the idols you worked with the same but you couldn't help being disappointed that your EXO bias seemed to find you wholly uninteresting.

Today, you weren’t working with him directly, but you were there to get some notes done for your next choreography.

"Good morning," you say when he enters the room, sits down in the makeup artist's chair.

You sigh softly and go back to flipping through your magazine, deciding to not speak again since he clearly wasn't interested in small talk anyway.

You can't help stewing about it, though, worrying that you must have said something to offend him or maybe he just thought you were ugly and finally, when the makeup artist has his face turned away from you and you don't feel so vulnerable, you speak.

"Have I done something to upset you, Mr. Zhang?"

"Yixing," he mumbles.

"Wh-what?"

"Call me Yixing. And no. No, you haven't."

You swallow and lean forward in your seat. "Are you sure? Because it seems like you don't talk to me very much or even look at me..."

Yixing shifts in his seat. "Are we done here?"

You sigh as the makeup artist nods, putting down her brush, and he walks out as if the room were on fire.

You walk to the break room at lunch to escape the other staff tittering over the boys.

You're halfway there when you see Yixing leaned against the wall in the hallway.

You ignore him until he says you name, quietly.

You're a little shocked he knows it, and you turn to face him.

"Red lipstick," he blurts.

You raise an eyebrow.

Yixing sighs and puts his hands in his pockets, standing up straight.

"You were wearing red lipstick the first time I saw you. And.....and these high waisted black shorts with a tank top."

You realize your mouth has dropped open and you close it with a snap.

You feel almost adrift, feeling lighter than you had in weeks. You reach out and grab his hand, tugging him toward the studio.

He blinks at you in surprise but follows your lead until you're in the empty studio that you've been working in together all month.

"You like me," you say, your voice almost accusing.

Yixing rubs at the back of his neck. "I'm sorry. I didn't...I shouldn't have said anything. I just didn't want to make you uncomfortable. We have to work together so closely..."

He trails off as you close the distance between you, pivoting to face the mirror in the studio, taking his hands to place on your hips just as you had the last time you'd worked together.

This time you catch his sharp intake of breath, and instead of stiffening like you'd scolded him about during choreography, he relaxes when you lean your back against his chest, rolling your hips to a silent beat in your head.

"Wasn't aware we had practice today," he murmurs, close to your ear, and you'd swear you could hear a smile in his voice.

You pivot again, keeping his hand in yours and he spins you as you've practiced but this is different, instead of a neutral, almost bored expression he's giving you a dimpled smile.

"Practice makes perfect," you whisper, tilting your face up to press your mouth to his.

Your head isn't tilted quite the right way for a deeper kiss, you'd only planned on a teasing peck, but then Yixing's hand is cupping your cheek, directing your lips so that he can kiss you open mouthed.

It's like a buildup, that first peck, then open mouth, then he slides his tongue into your mouth and it isn't as if you'd expected any of this but if you'd ever imagined kissing him, it wouldn't have been like this.

You'd have expected an explosion, mouth almost punishing against yours, but instead it's a slow burn from the inside out, like embers igniting a fire.

You touch him before he touches you and you feel him exhale hard through his nostrils when you move your hands to dig your fingers into his shoulders to pull him closer, kiss him deeper.

His hands are solid on your lower back, but when you move your mouth to the base of his throat, kissing softly, they spread out to your hips and he turns you again, catching your waist with his forearm and pulling you tight against him.

You see yourself in the mirror, your face flushed, mouth parted, and then the wicked grin on Yixing's face before he drops his mouth to your shoulder, one hand sweeping your hair back and tugging the collar of your shirt to give him access to your heated skin.

"I know you thought I didn't know quite how to nail that last move we tried," he says, quietly, as if you're working, as if his hand isn't creeping up the outside of your thigh, under your skirt, snapping the edge of your thigh-highs.

You gasp in a breath, watching his face, and he grins again, against your skin at the juncture of your neck and shoulder, tongue flicking out to taste you.

"I kept messing it up on purpose," he says calmly, his fingers caressing up the flesh of your hip, toying now with the string of your panties.

"Why?" Your head is spinning, you started this day thinking he hated you and now here you were, your thighs spreading on instinct, heat flooding your sex.

“I liked having you close. Liked having my hands on your hips, you rolling your ass back into me.” He lifts his head, his voice still calm, almost professional, while you can barely catch your breath.

You keep your eyes on his face when you roll your hips back against him, and the hand on your hip tightens and he lets out the faintest moan.

You tilt your head back to look at him, smirking a little, and then he rolls back into you and you feel his erection pressing against your ass and lose your breath again.

“See? Practice makes perfect,” he teases, echoing your words back at you, and then he drops another kiss on your shoulder.

Then the press of his body is gone, his hands sliding off you, and he takes a step back, brushing his hair back from his face with a long exhale.

You feel almost boneless, the crotch of your panties soaking wet, and you hear a whine come from your throat.

“Don’t you think we should practice a little more?”

Yixing gives you a big, dimpled smile and looks down, as if suddenly shy. “Next time,” he says. “We have practice on Monday, yeah?”

He leaves the studio with you standing there with your mouth open.

For once, you cannot wait for Monday morning.

[resinatingbeauty]

Instead of doing another infographic, I thought I would tell you a spooky true story instead, one that changed my life forever. It has nothing to do with the history of Samhain or rituals or whatever, but it was the only verifiable experience I had ever had at that point in my life.

Here it goes, link at the bottom of this post for the local news article I ended up finding 8 or so years later as I didn’t think to do so at the time. Note the comment by the apartment’s previous tenant after the fact, describing ‘strange phenomena’.

It was early November, though all seasons seem to blend together when you live in Florida. I was born in St. Augustine, went up north to Illinois and Minnesota, coming back down here to Palm Coast where I’ve lived for over a decade. Full circle.

I was 19 and lacked the confidence to get a job in the fields that I got my certifications in as an Esthetician/Cosmetologist. I just wasn’t the social butterfly that I felt people expected from their hair stylist. I was also stubborn and wanted to do things my way, which I learned to not be eventually, but much later.

Needless to say, I spent the next year or so being a depressed drug addict working at a fast food place. The drug addiction wasn’t fully set in yet, only just beginning at this point. I still had actual friends that weren’t suppliers or people who just hung around because you got high together. One of them was named Cheryl.

Cheryl was in her late fifties and a former queen of the BDSM scene. How did I know that? She told me and, unfortunately, showed me a photo album once that I cannot unsee to this very day. Eccentric, yet worldly and intellectual. I enjoyed listening to Cheryl. She really didn’t give a flying fuck what other people thought of her because she thought she was great. And she really was.

I was driving her home for a while because she had been in a car accident.Hit by a car while riding her bike, as it that was the only mode of transportation she had. I felt bad for her, so I offered to give her rides home when I was working.

Home to Cheryl was actually a resort hotel that was coverted into fully furnished apartments when the European Village went on the decline due to its management being a complete crackhead. The place was well known as a luxury crack den and many people were always hanging around some drug dealer’s door. It probably had, and still does have, the cheapest rent in down. That’s also due to the fact that its had a fair share of overdoses and suicides in the five years total it had been standing at that point. I felt safe with Cheryl, but I was also naive. Thankfully, she wasn’t a junkie and never tried to rob me, kidnap, or rape so that was nice.

One night I didn’t have to close, Cheryl invited me in to hang out because I never felt like going home to my parent’s house. We would chat and she would show me old photos of her dressed as a dominatrix. You know, normal stuff.

At one point, the conversation turned to the spiritual. At that time, I was far from a spiritual person. I had never had much faith in a God and had lost all faith in my various Gods and Goddesses I had been communicating with for years prior, mostly due to be set in the dark pit of despair that was my mind when I was 19. I was, however, still intrigued by the concept of the paranormal.

Cheryl had a dog. The dog had randomly appeared in the living nook where were sitting and spontaneously started barking at the balcony door. I didn’t know Cheryl even owned a dog, so I was shocked immediately when I heard barking. Cheryl just smiled and started telling me about ‘Caroline.’

Caroline was a tenant that had allegedly killed herself on another floor, but rumors circulating around the resort referenced to her known to be abusive boyfriend actually being responsible for her death. She was a drug addict, which meant her death was swept under the rug and hardly acknowledged by anyone other than those who knew her personally or happened to be present during one of the frequent public altercations between her and her boyfriend.

Cheryl gestured to where the little Yorkie was panting excitedly in front of the balcony and told me that every so often, Caroline would come to her on the balcony, like a full body apparition. She said she would hear her voice and talk to her and expressed no fear at all. Cheryl said she knew that Caroline wasn’t a threat, she was just very sad.

I went home that night thinking nothing more about it other than it was interesting and I could only hope to be as privileged as Cheryl was with her ghostly encounters. I didn’t bother verifying the storyline because I had figured if her death had been ruled a suicide there wouldn’t be much on it to find.

The next night at work, I was set up to bring Cheryl home again but also had made plans with a new coworker who I thought was cute, David, that had taken a part time job on leave from the Navy. He was a good sport about making a pit stop at Cheryl’s and they seemed to get along, well enough that Cheryl invited us up to her apartment again but told us that she had to run to the second floor and feed her friend’s dogs who had gone away for a few weeks. After chatting for a bit, no one felt comfortable staying in her apartment without Cheryl there, so we followed her to the second floor, if not out of curiosity to see more of the building itself that was normally locked to those without key cards.

When we arrived on the second floor, I remember stopping at the end of the hallway where we exited the stairwell and feeling uneasy. This part of the floor seemed much darker than the third floor where we were, and when I looked up, I noticed that there was a light missing at the end of the hall right above a boarded up room at the very end, like something out of a movie. Neither I nor David asked about it, both of us could imagine a million reasons why the door would be boarded, but none of those reasons I thought up correlated with what Cheryl had been telling me the night before. I kept staring at the boarded up door at the end, my eyes scanning over the walls around us. What I saw looked like blood spatters on the wall that had long set in there, but I refused to accept that as truth.

I turned to look at David who had been taking in the scene as I had been. We were both tired. It was well past midnight and from the look on his face I couldn’t read what was going through his mind.Then, everything suddenly shifted.

I couldn’t tell if something had walked past us in the hall or something had happened outside to make the lighting change inside, but the entire hallway seemed to lose the dim lighting it had. It became very cold, briefly, instantly- as soon as it occurred, everything was normal again. I thought I heard someone whispering, quickly. I looked at David again and could tell now that he had experienced everything I had just experienced. I stood there for a moment, my mouth hanging open, all I could come up with to say was,

“You saw all that right?”

David nodded. He knew exactly what I meant. There was no question, but the look on his face wasn’t one of fear. I didn’t even feel fear. What I felt was a sense of sadness and dread so profound and consuming that to this day I don’t have the words to describe it. Like being told you were fired, your lover dumping you, and your whole family dying in a car crash at the same time.

Cheryl finally emerged from the apartment and saw us both standing there. We attempted to describe what we saw to her and Cheryl just cracked a small smile as she was locking up.

“That room down there? Yea that’s where Caroline died,”

David had no knowledge of Caroline. He hadn’t been there prior, he didn’t hear any of the stories that Cheryl had told me about this apparition on the balcony of a girl whose death remained a mystery to many of the tenants. I would explain it to him and tell him what Cheryl had told me the night before, wondering if she had mentioned it in passing knowing what room was going to be at the end of the hall, of which she didn’t alert me to. Maybe she had an agenda to prove she wasn’t insane and to insure I would have my own experience with Caroline.

8 years later, I would look up the name Caroline in conjunction with European Village and found this article that doesn’t seem to give much more than the bizarre way she allegedly killed herself. If you wish to read that article and the bizarre comment from the apartment’s newest tenant, click here

Sound familiar? If you frequent /r/no sleep you may have read a version of this story written under my creativity handle, HereInTheNight.

[rawmeanderson]

bring you back to me ― part v

ft. jeff skinner plot: when your high school sweetheart gets traded to the same city where you now live and work, your best friend just can’t mind her own business ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ warnings. swearing, drinking/drunkenness, nsfw things~ 😇 word count: 7.8k thoughts and comments are always appreciated!! enjoy babies 💞

“Shit, shit, shit,” you mutter to yourself, glancing at the time on your computer. Sighing, you reach for your phone, dialing Jeff’s number.

Jeff had gotten back to Buffalo Tuesday night and surprised you by bringing you lunch at work Wednesday afternoon. It was sweet and unexpected, and he even had a couple ideas to offer up about the rest of the week. There was a game Friday, and Jack was having people over afterwards. Much to Jeff’s amusement, and then yours, Jack had specifically mentioned to make sure that one of you invited Lydia. When Jeff said that, you practically choked on your drink with laughter, and you made sure to text Lydia immediately. The Sabres left on another road trip Sunday evening, so the two of you made plans for brunch that morning. You walked him out to the parking garage, your hand in his, and you spent a few short moments making out against the side of his car.

It was Friday now, and the end of the scheduled work day was approaching quickly, however leaving work wasn’t going to be happening any time soon. After a bit of a business emergency, you and a few other coworkers were stuck trying to pick up the pieces. You thankfully caught Jeff before he got to the arena to tell him that you weren’t going to end up making it to the game. He was disappointed, but understood, and you could tell he was happy that you were still planning on going to Jack’s. In the end, you agreed to meet at Jeff’s and walk to Jack’s, considering it was down the street.

You were stuck at your desk until the end of second intermission, giving you enough time to run home and change. Lydia hadn’t been trapped at work with you, so she was currently enjoying herself at the game based on her texts. She seemed a little drunk already, but was clearly having a great time. When you’d told her about that party at Jack’s, you honestly wished you’d been recording her. You didn’t bother to mention that he’d specifically invited her, and she’d spent the rest of the week trying to figure out what to wear.

After grabbing something to eat on the way home, you walk into your place with a sigh, pushing your hair out of your face. You send Jeff a text to let you know when he’s home so you can head over, and you take your time eating and getting dressed. He texts you when the game is over and sends you his address, saying he should be home within half an hour or so. Deciding you should probably change out of your work clothes, you pull on a pair of tight jeans and a v-neck, not quite sure what to wear otherwise. You spend the next fifteen minutes or so trying to doll yourself up otherwise, putting on some lipstick and doing what you can to put some life back into your hair before leaving.

You take a Lyft to Jeff’s, and you spend the ride to his place texting Lydia. She was hanging out at a bar close to the arena, having a few drinks before heading to Jack’s, and really, you wish you’d thought to start drinking at home. You’re nervous, fidgety in the back of the car, chewing on your bottom lip as you let Jeff know your ETA. You hate that you’re feeling so antsy, and really, you much prefer the idea of just staying in with Jeff tonight after your long day at work, but it was too late to suggest that now.

When your ride dropped you off, Jeff buzzed you into his building, and on the way up the elevator, you chew on your thumbnail, already regretting your decision to wear heels. Knocking at his door a moment later, you adjust your bag on your shoulder, feeling butterflies in your stomach when you hear his footsteps approach the door.

Of course, Jeff greeted you with a smile that you mirror back to him as he reaches for you. “Hey you,” he says, kissing you softly as soon as he’s got you close enough. Instinctively, your arm slips around his shoulder as you lean into his kiss, not willing to pull away yet. The Sabres had lost, and you felt almost guilty for missing the game. Plus, you’d just missed him.

“Hey yourself,” you tease, grinning at your mouth leaves his. You can’t stop yourself from kissing him again, enjoying the fact that his hair is still damp from his post-game shower. He’s warm and you can smell his body wash when you kiss him again quickly. “Sorry I missed the game.” Your words are soft, half murmured against his mouth, and you open your eyes in time to see him shrug.

“Not your fault, baby,” he says, his hand splaying out against the small of your back. You nod back to him simply, pressing another soft peck to his mouth before forcing yourself to pull away. Licking your lips, you glance around curiously since you’d never been to his place before. “Want a quick tour?” He must notice you looking around, and you smile at him with another nod.

He takes your hand and walks you through his apartment, giving sweet little commentary about how he wasn’t sure if he liked the furniture layout in the living room or not. When he mentions his bedroom, you see his cheeks flush softly, and you bite your lip to force back a grin. It makes a heat prickle up the back of your neck, and the idea crosses your mind to just say fuck the party and just stay in for the night.

A few minutes later though, and Jeff is pulling on a jacket so you guys can take off. In the elevator, you guys talk about the game briefly as you lean into his side. The walk was short, and even with your jacket on, you were cold and keeping close to Jeff. Lydia was already at Jack’s, much to your surprise, but then again, she got quite confident while drunk, so maybe it wasn’t so shocking.

When you got there, Jeff helped you out of your jacket before hanging it up next to his, and you looked around, wondering where Lydia was. You’re a little tense still, and when Jeff asks if you want a drink, you nod eagerly with a grin before following him into the kitchen. It’s there that you find Lydia talking to Jack, surprisingly enough, and when she saw you, a wide smile settled on her face.

“Oh my god, about time!” she says, giggling as she reaches for you. “Hi, I missed you.” Her tone goes a little weepy and you laugh as she hugs you, glancing at Jack over her shoulder.

“Are you having fun?” you ask her with a quick laugh before your attention turns back to Jack. “Has she been talking your ear off?”

Jack snorts, shrugging with a bit of a smirk. “Yeah, but it’s fine. I was trying to get her to drink some water, but she said I’m not her boss,” he says, taking a sip of his drink. The words get a laugh out of you, and Lydia chimes in that it’s true.

“Sweetheart, please drink some water,” you say with a laugh, your hands coming up to her face to make sure she’s actually looking at you.

“Okay, but only if you start to catch up to me,” she responds, slipping away from you easily to pull you toward where Jeff is already making himself a drink. Lydia greets him enthusiastically with a hug, and he laughs as he hugs her back. You watch with amusement as they make a bit of small talk, and your happy to see that Jack had a decent selection of liquor.

Over the next hour or so, more people trickle in, and thankfully, you get Lydia to sober up a bit and the two of you meet in the middle. Jeff introduces you to more of his teammates, and they all mention the fact that Jeff hasn’t shut up about you, much to his embarrassment. You keep catching Lydia’s eyes on Jack, and you make a mental note to mention it to Jeff later.

Teetering on the edge of drunk, you thank Jeff with a grin as he offers to grab you another drink a while later. You hand him your cup and press a quick kiss to his mouth before he takes off, and you catch Lydia watching the two of you.

“What?” you ask her with a pointed look as she wiggles her eyebrows at you.

“Nothin’, I just love you guys,” she says with a sigh that make you laugh. “Please tell me you’ve fucked him.”

“There it is,” you murmur, knowing she was sure to bring it up eventually. Either way, you scoff and shake your head. “No, we haven’t, not yet.”

Lydia makes a sound of disbelief and she’s shaking her head. “I can’t imagine having that kind of self-restraint, honestly,” she says, taking a sip of her drink. She’s back to mixed drinks now that she’s sobered up some, and that devilish side of her is sneaking back in.

“We’re just trying to take things a little slow, I guess, that’s all,” you respond, feeling your cheeks heat up. You turn your head enough to sneak a glance at Jeff in the kitchen where he’s making your drink as he talks to Jack.

“You deserve that dick, sweetheart,” she tells you with a shrug, making you snort as you nudge her with your elbow.

“Shut up,” you grumble, laughing softly as Jeff starts back toward you. When he’s close enough, he hands you your drink and you thank him with a smile, immediately taking a sip and praying that Lydia doesn’t say anything too stupid.

Another hour passes, and Jeff does a few laps around the apartment, talking to teammates and other friends, but never leaving your sight. After finishing the drink he made you, you sip at some water as you lean back against the wall behind you. You’d made sure that Lydia was also drinking water again, but otherwise, she’d wandered off to talk to other people she’d met earlier.

You start catching Jeff’s eyes on you more and more, and eventually, you wave him over. Lydia’s works are sticking in your mind now, and Jeff looks so good with with the way his shirt is hugging his shoulders. He moves closer with a smile, slipping an arm around you when you reach for him. You’re just drunk enough that your mind is wandering back to last weekend on your couch, and how good it’d felt to have his hands on you, to make him groan.

“Having fun?” he asks softly, leaning to press a kiss to your mouth. You nod with a hum, kissing him again. He tastes like beer and you can’t help but giggle softly as you lean into him.

“Where’s the bathroom?” you ask a second later, tilting your head enough to kiss his jaw softly.

“Uhh, down the hall,” he responds after thinking about it for a moment. You can feel that he’s leaning into you, his hand wandering up your side lightly, and you let your mouth move down his neck.

“Show me,” you murmur into his skin, letting your teeth drag over his adam’s apple. He leans back to look at you then with raised eyebrows, and your only response is to practically beam at him before taking a step toward the hall and grabbing his hand.

In the hall, Jeff laughs softly as you practically drag him along behind you and he squeezes your hand lightly. “Up here on the left,” he says quietly, the sounds of the music is growing quieter behind you.

The door’s ajar, so you know it’s unoccupied and you step inside, pulling Jeff in behind you. He nearly trips on his own feet and ends up laughing as the door closes. It’s dark in the bathroom aside from the dim strip of LED strips along the mirror, and you see Jeff searching blindly for the lightswitch. You shake your head quickly, reaching to turn the lock on the door as your other arms settles around his neck to pull him toward you.

Your lips crash into his, immediately earning a groan out of him as his hands move to hold your hips. He squeezes you there, and you smile against his mouth as you cup his face gently, turning enough so he’s leaning back into the vanity. His hands slide up to your waist, gripping the fabric of your shirt before he’s pulling away with a soft laugh.

“I can’t believe you locked the door,” he murmurs, taking a breath before he’s kissing you hungrily again, pulling you closer so every inch of your body is pressing against his.

“What, you think I want someone to walk in on us fooling around in your teammate’s bathroom?” you ask, the words muffled against his mouth slightly.

“Oh, so that’s what we’re doing?” he responds, and both of you break into fits of laughter as you nod. Drunkenness has fully set in, and you just feel so happy to be there with him. He pulls you back toward him, bringing a hand up to thread his fingers through your hair and when he kisses you again, it leaves you seeing stars.

Leaning into him, you lick into his mouth, feeling that desperation for him starting to build faster than before. When he nips at your bottom lip a second later, you whimper into his mouth, your hips already pressing toward his. He’s all you can think about, all you can focus on, and feeling his hands wander over your body leaves you practically keening for him.

You kiss him until you have to pull away, lips swollen as you try to catch your breath. Jeff is breathing heavily as well, his hands slipping under your shirt to rest on your waist. Nosing at his jaw, you press a light kiss to his neck that makes him hum. He squeezes your waist and tilts his head back slightly, and immediately your mouth is on his throat, sucking at his pulsepoint. Your hands settle on his belt buckle and they idle there, loving the way he moans your name.

Taking that as encouragement, you unfasten his belt easily, and he tenses, making you pull back to look at him. Your eyes have adjusted to the dark enough by then that you can feel his eyes moving over your face slowly. You’re rather grateful for the low lighting so he can’t see the flush that’s coloring your cheeks or the way that your hands are shaking slightly.

“Do you want me to stop?” you ask softly, and without pause, Jeff shakes his head, already leaning to kiss you again hungrily. You all but melt against him, smiling against his mouth as your hips press forward against his. His cock is starting to harden, you can feel it, and immediately, your mouth is watering as you unfasten his jeans and drag his zipper down.

When you slide a hand into his jeans, palming at his dick through the fabric of his boxer briefs, he curses softly before licking into your mouth again. You can still hear the music from down the hall, and you hate how much you’re enjoying the fact that you could get caught at any time. Jeff says your name in a tone that’s nothing short of whiny, and you slide your tongue along his before pulling away with a smirk.

“Jesus, Y/n,” he breathes as he watches with wide eyes you drop to your knees in front of him. You bite your bottom lip as your smirk grows, loving the way he’s leaning back into the vanity in almost disbelief. His hand comes down to push your hair out of your face, and you can hear that he’s breathing heavily as you tug his jeans and underwear just enough to free his cock.

Jeff takes a deep breath that catches in his throat as your hand comes up to stroke his length from base to tip, his body tensing as he’s clearly trying not to fuck into your hand.

“You okay?” you ask softly, looking up at him through your eyelashes. As eager as you are for him then, you don’t want him to feel like everything’s moving too fast. You’re not letting yourself think about the fact that his dick is bigger than you’d expected, you’re not letting yourself think about how plush his mouth as his tongue darts out to lick his lips.

“Yeah, I’m good,” he says, exhaling a breath of laughter as he grips the edge of the vanity. “Just been thinking about this since I was like, 14.” His words make you grin and you nod, stroking him again slowly. Part of you wants to make a snarky comment about it, wants to hear him laugh, but right now you’re too desperate for him, too transfixed on the fact that this is all actually happening.

His eyes are glued to you, you can feel his hand tighten in his hair as your mouth opens to take the head of his cock between your lips. Immediately, he tenses as you hear him inhale sharply, and you hum at the salty taste of his precum against your tongue. Shifting on your knees, you can feel how wet you are, as you suckle lightly at the head of his cock, trying to settle into a rhythm and decipher what he likes.

“Fuck, baby,” he murmurs when you bob your head shallowly, taking more of him between your lips. Your body is hot all over, and when he hisses out a curse, your clit throbs between your thighs.

You relax your jaw and take a breath through your nose, bringing a hand up to rest on the back of his thigh, starting to take him deeper into your mouth. Your tongue teases along the vein on the underside of his cock, and that makes his breathing hitch as you keep going. His eyes are on you still, you can tell, and when his fingers flex in your hair, you can’t help the way you moan around his length. Your hand is still on him, holding the base of his cock and twisting around his length lightly as start you hear him curse again above you.

When you feel him at the back of your throat, you swallow around him, and he lets out breathy moan that makes your thighs squeeze together. It’s then that you start bobbing your head, doing your best not to gag when he slips down your throat a little more with each movement. You can hear him breathing heavily above you, and you’re sure that he’s still watching. In your drunken state, you can’t help but show off a little, groaning around him as your nose hits his pelvis.

From the tension in his body, you’re sure that Jeff is holding back, and you look up at him through your eyelashes. You can taste his precum at the back of your tongue, and you let your cheeks hollow out as you pull back, almost enough that he slips out of your mouth. A needy sound leaves him and you moan around him in response, as you start to bob your head again lazily, taking your time.

You squeeze his thigh lightly, wanting him to relax for you as he slips down the back of your throat again. He makes a sound of approval, and a second later, he’s rocking into your mouth carefully. When you choke on him in response, he tenses again, cursing under his breath as you look up at him. There’s a pleading look in your eye that he seems to pick up on, his hand tightening in your hair as he leans over you a little more rather than resting back against the vanity.

There’s a new darkness in his eyes that you can see even in the low lighting of the bathroom, and when he fucks into your mouth a second later, you moan for him. Your body is hot all over, and immediately, you’re unfastening your own jeans and shoving your hand into your panties.

“Y/n, fuck, you look so good right now,” he breathes, voice sounding absolutely wrecked as he watches you. You find your clit easily, whimpering around him when feel how soaked and swollen you are. Your hips press down toward your hand, rubbing tight circles against your clit as you suck at his length desperately.

Seeing you touch yourself, knowing that you’re enjoying sucking his cock really seems to help Jeff’s confidence, and you hear him groan as he rocks into your mouth again. Your jaw relaxes a bit more, tongue resting flat in the bottom of your mouth, and as you start to bob your head eagerly, your hand moves from his thigh to the base of his cock. Toying with your clit still, you feel yourself getting a little sloppy as tears burn in your eyes.

Jeff fucks into your mouth harder than before, hitting your gag reflex and immediately he stills, his hand relaxing in your hair like he’s expecting you to pull off. You don’t though, just pulling back slightly to trace along the veins and ridges of his cock with your tongue teasingly as you take a few breaths through your nose.

Your thighs are squeezing around your hand, and you’re shocked at how wet you are just from sucking his cock. The sounds he’s letting out for you as he pushes your hair back from your face again has your cunt absolutely throbbing, and your hips rock against your hand roughly. You can feel the way he’s just barely fucking into your mouth, much more carefully now.

Because your lungs are burning, you pull off of him to take a few deep breaths, and you can feel a bit of spit leaking from the corner of your mouth. Your hand moves to stroke him slowly from base to tip, his cock slick with your saliva, and the fingers of your other hand continue to sweep through your folds and toy with your clit.

“I wanna taste you, baby, fuck,” you whine for him, words slurring slightly as you lean closer to take his cock between your lips again as he nods.

“You want me to cum down your throat, sweetheart?” he asks a second later, hips rocking toward your mouth. His words, the tone of his voice take you by surprise, immediately drawing a needy sound from you as you do your best to nod, despite the fact that his cock down your throat.

His other hand leaves the edge of the vanity, joining the other to tangle in your hair as he fucks into your mouth in a slow, easy motion. The motion, the sudden burst of confidence has you whimpering around him as you rub faster at your clit, unsure if you’d be able to cum with him.

Jeff’s movements stutter slightly and he groans your name as he spills hot into your mouth. His hands are tight enough in your hair that it hurts just the right amount like he’s holding you in place, and you continue toying with your clit as he rocks into your mouth. You let out a satisfied hum as you swallow every bit of his cum, his hips pressing close enough to you that your nose is pressing against his pelvis again.

He stills, panting loudly, but even then, you bob your head slowly, sucklng hard at his softening cock as he catches his breath. You hear him curse softly and when you look up, you’re not surprised that he’s watching you, eyes all but glued to your hand that’s shoved down the front of your jeans.

“Fuck, sweetheart, c’mere,” he murmurs, voice low as he guides you off the length of his dick. You pull off him with a soft pop, knowing your lips are swollen and slick, and Jeff tugs you to your feet easily.

Your knees are weak so you lean into him for support, and he kisses you so hard that it leaves you breathless. He hums as he licks into your mouth, his hand closing around your wrist to guide your hand out of your jeans. Jeff only pulls back to suck your fingers into his mouth, moaning when he tastes your wetness on your digits, making your knees weak.

Breathing his name, you move easily when he turns to press you back against the edge of the vanity. He pulls your fingers from his mouth so he can kiss you, feel him tuck himself back into his boxers and fasten his pants before his fingers are brushing along the elastic band of your panties.

“Baby, can I touch you? Fuck, I wanna feel you cum for me,” he breathes against your mouth, the desperation obvious in his tone. All you can do is nod eagerly, arm slipping around his neck to keep him close.

Jeff wastes no time, immediately slipping his hand into your panties, and both of you groan in unison as his fingers brush through you soaked folds. He licks into your mouth hungrily, humming as his middle finger rubs a circle against your clit. Your hips press toward his hand and you pant against his mouth, resting back against the edge of the vanity for support.

You part your legs a bit more for him, letting out an impatient groan as you feel restricted by your tight jeans. He murmurs something to you that you can’t quite hear and you whine for him nonetheless, your arm tightening around his neck to keep him as close as possible.

“I’ve got you, beautiful,” he breathes against your mouth, and you nod quickly, trying to wordlessly convey that you trust him as your hips rock against his hand. You feel his fingers tease at your entrance briefly, then he’s burying two fingers deep inside you, long and thick, and a breath catches in your throat as you arch toward him.

“Jeff, fuck,” you whine loudly, your vision going fuzzy when his fingers curl against your g-spot. Heat burns along your spine as your hand comes up to grip his short curls in an effort to keep his mouth on yours. His free hand is tugging at your jeans, trying to get them down a little more, and you giggle softly when he curses in frustration.

He doesn’t have much room to fuck his fingers into you properly, but he makes do, curling them inside you roughly as his palm grinds against your clit. You whimper for him, already so keyed up from sucking his cock and bringing yourself close to an orgasm earlier, and you’re still rocking hard against his hand.

You’re about to whine for him again, when a knock at the door startles both of you, and you exhale a laugh as you press your face into his neck. Jeff doesn’t stop though, still letting the heel of his hard grind against your clit.

“Uhh, hang on, just a minute!” Jeff says, loudly enough to be heard through the door. His fingers are still curling into you roughly, and your pussy clenches hard around his fingers. Immediately, he’s attaching his mouth to your throat and you do your best to keep quiet, knowing there’s someone on the other side of the door.

Whimpering his name, your arms tighten around him, hips shifting impatiently. His mouth was hot against your neck, sucking at your pulse point and letting his fingers rub against your g-spot firmly.

“Can you cum for me, baby? We gotta make this quick,” he murmurs into your neck before pulling back. You meet his eye and nod quickly, and the smirk the settles on his lips has your jaw tightening as you try to hold back the moan that bubbles in your throat.

Jeff kisses you so hard that your teeth hit and your hands move to cup his face, just wanting to keep him close. His hand is moving between your thighs roughly and you can feel your orgasm building as his tongue slides along yours. You wish you had more time, that there were less clothes involved, but by now, you were just glad to be releasing some of the tension that had been boiling over between the two of you.

You’re so close, putting a hand behind you on the vanity for leverage as you rock against his hand, desperate for as much friction as you can get. He somehow finds just enough space to start pumping his fingers into you shallowly, still curled hard against your g-spot. Your other hand moves up to his hair, gripping the short curls as the first waves of your orgasm hit you. Kissing him roughly, you’re panting into his mouth between high little moans as your cunt flutters around his digits. Your whole body is rocking toward his, desperate for contact as you cum for him.

As your orgasm starts to fade and you’re able to catch your breath, your mind is so focused on Jeff that you visibly jump when there’s another knock at the door. Your head drops to bury your face in his shoulder as he clears his throat. Jeff’s about to speak when Jack’s voice cuts through the heavy sounds of your breathing.

“Dude, what the fuck are you doing?” Jack asks, sounding quite drunk and he knocks again impatiently. You can feel your cheeks burning, and completely pressed against Jeff, you feel him shake with laughter.

“We’ll, uh..I’ll be out in a minute,” Jeff responds, clearing his throat again as you nudge him in the ribs gently when he’d started with ‘we.’

Jack is silent for a short moment, and you hold your breath, hoping that he was just going to walk away. You pull back and see Jeff biting his lip, telling you he was hoping the same thing.

“Fuck, is Y/n in there with you?” he questions a second later, like it took him a minute to piece it all together. You press a hand over your mouth in an attempt to silence a laugh.

“Uhh...you really want me to answer that?” Jeff says quickly, making you laugh all over again. Before you can stop yourself, you tilt your chin forward to kiss him again before a wide grin spreads across your face.

“Oh, come on, man!” Jack groans from the other side of the door, and you bite your lip as you attempt to ignore the fact that Jeff’s fingers are still buried deep inside you. “You live two fucking blocks from here, why do you have to fuck in my bathroom?” The words make you snort loudly, your head dropping again to nuzzle into Jeff’s neck.

“Jack, I said we’ll be out in a minute,” Jeff says in a firm tone that surprises you, and you lean back to look at him with raised eyebrows and a grin. Jack grumbles for a brief moment before sighing and seemingly walking away from.

You see Jeff roll his eyes before he meets your gaze, and immediately, he’s grinning at you. His expression softens, and he’s kissing you slowly a second later, humming against your mouth comfortably. He shifts his hand just slightly, the friction against your sensitive walls makes you whimper, and he makes a soothing sound as he pulls his fingers from you then. The second you’re able to, you’re squeezing your thighs together, all but squirming in place as you watch Jeff suck his fingers into his mouth to taste you.

He’s grinning still, and the darkness in his eyes is fading as you grip the fabric of his shirt to pull him closer again. You look at each other for a moment, then Jack’s exasperation crosses your mind again, making you snort with laughter.

“We should probably get out of here,” Jeff murmurs, kissing your forehead lightly, then the side of your head. You nod, already turning your head enough to kiss him full on the mouth. Forcing yourself to untangle from him, you fasten your jeans and turn to look in the mirror, wanting to make sure you don’t look like too much of a mess.

Returning to the rest of the party, you try your hardest to avoid making eye contact with Jack, which is easier said than done considering he’s talking to Lydia, who’s waving you over. With a hand in the small of your back, Jeff tells you he’ll be right back and you nod before he heads toward another group of his teammates. You keep your distance from Lydia for just a moment, and as if Jack isn’t quite ready to talk to you either, he takes off before long.

Lydia seems a little more sober now, giving you a knowing grin as she pulls you toward her. “Honey, when I said you deserved that dick, I didn’t mean right now,” she tells you, giggling loudly as she wraps her arms around you in a hug. You nudge her in the ribs, scoffing as you hug her back. “When I asked Jack if he’d seen you anywhere, I didn’t expect him to hunt you guys down like that.” Now, you laugh, shaking your head as you look at her.

“Guess we’ve at least got a good story out of it now, I guess,” you say, cheeks burning as she laughs with you. “I didn’t actually fuck him though, okay, so don’t believe whatever Jack was bitching about.” Lydia grins knowingly, murmuring something about Jack being a nosy bitch.

You didn’t realize the time until you checked your phone a few minutes later, and saw that it was nearly 1am. Jeff has gravitated back toward you, arm slipping around your waist comfortably as you continue to talk to Lydia. Jack keeps eyeing the two of you like a parent chaperoning two teenagers, and when Lydia takes off to grab more water, Jeff kisses your shoulder softly.

“You wanna come home with me?” he asks, almost sounding worried you wouldn’t be interested in.

Immediately though, you’re nodding, leaning into him. “Yeah, but only to sleep. It’s past my bedtime, and you wore me out earlier,” you tease, grinning as he nods back at you.

“We’ll head out in a few minutes then? I just need to say bye to some people,” he says, pressing a kiss to your cheek before slipping away.

Getting out of there was easy thankfully, and Lydia was on her way out too as you pull your coat on. She pauses to hug you, saying she’ll see you at work on Monday, and in pure Lydia fashion, she shoots Jeff a wink on her way out the door once her Lyft had arrived.

On the walk back to Jeff’s, you’re both quiet, just leaning into each other easily. He keeps his arm around your shoulders protectively, holding the door open for you when you reach his building.

“We should’ve just planned for you to stay over tonight from the get-go,” Jeff says with a bashful shrug as you wait for the elevator. You nod, grinning as you shrug back at him, stifling a yawn.

You’re sleepy as hell, letting Jeff guide you into the elevator, then down the hall once you’d made it up to his floor. You nuzzle into his shoulder as he works on unlocking his door, rubbing his hand over your back lightly. Inside, you each kick off your shoes and shrug off your jackets, and Jeff tells you quietly to head to his room, and you nod with a sleepy smile.

You use his bathroom, and when you step back into his bedroom, you find him sifting through some drawers. He glances over his shoulder to grin at you before putting a small stack of clothes on top of the dresser. “Figured you might want something to sleep in,” he says with a shy grin, bringing a hand up to the scratch the back of his neck. You thank him softly, coming close enough to press a soft kiss to his mouth before he pulls back to head into the bathroom himself with a pair of sweats in hand.

If you weren’t half drunk and half asleep, you would’ve teased him about the fact that he was changing in private, as if you hadn’t had his dick down your throat an hour earlier. Stripping out of your clothes, you pull on the sweats and t-shirt he set out for you, unable to stop yourself from noticing how much the clothes smelled like him. When he steps out of the bathroom a moment later, it’s obvious that he’s trying to be respectful, glancing at you quickly to make sure you’re dressed.

“Do you have a preference on a side of the bed?” he asks, a sleepy smile and getting close enough to you to touch your waist lightly. You shake your head and make an indifferent sound, arms looping around his neck to pull him down to you for a proper kiss. Even as tired as you are, the fact that he’s shirtless is distracting and you can feel just how warm he is as you lean into him. “C’mon, bed.” His words are soft when he pulls back a moment later, tugging you toward the bed.

It takes no time at all for the two of you to get settled between the sheets, Jeff immediately pulling you back against his chest with an arm around your waist tightly. It feels good to just relax with him, to be curled up in bed together after such a long day. The two of you talk back and forth in hushed tones, and Jeff presses his face into the back of your shoulder, scoffing softly after a moment. You hum in question, turning your head back enough to look at him in the dark.

“I’m just thinking about that time your parents were out of town and I managed to convince my parents you were with them so they’d let me stay over with your brother,” he says, already chuckling as he continues to nuzzle into your shoulder.

Rolling your eyes, you grin to yourself. “That was the only time we got to sleep in bed together all night, wasn’t it?” you respond, hand moving to rub over his forearm gently where it’s slung over your waist. His bed is far too comfortable, really, and everything smells like him.

“Mhm. I spent the whole night terrified I’d wake up hard, or at least that you’d wake up before I had a chance to grab a quick shower,” he says, making you snort quietly as you practically beam in the dark.

“What, and you’re not feeling that same fear right now?” you question teasingly, and then it’s his turn to laugh, nosing at your hair.

“Oh, no, trust me, I am, I’m just too drunk still to really care about it, I guess,” he admits, and you laugh loudly enough that you feel him jump in surprise behind you. He’s laughing with you a second later, his arm tightening around you so every inch of your body is resting back against his.

Jeff is so safe and familiar, warm and just so sweet that you’re fighting sleep just because you want to stay up talking. When the two of you fall quiet again, your eyes start to get heavy, nuzzling against the pillow as your hand continues to rub over his forearm still since it’s the only part of him you can easily touch. After a moment of silence, you hear him hesitate behind you before saying your name.

“Hm?” you respond sleepily, turning onto your back to look up at him. His arm stays tight around your waist, and as you look at him, you can’t do anything to stop the smile that slides onto your face. You’d forgotten about the fact that he was shirtless, and you hate that you’d too exhausted to appreciate his body properly. Jeff’s quiet again for a moment, biting his lip like he’s trying to figure out what to say.

“Do you still believe things happen for a reason?” he says finally, the words taking you a little by surprise. You always had believed that, you’d said it often when you were younger, and the fact that he remembered it now made you smile.

“Yeah, why?” you hum softly, eyes moving over his face slowly. He gives you a little half shrug, and you nudge him gently, knowing he’s hesitating still. Not even thinking about it, your hand comes up, brushing your fingers fingers over his collarbone lightly, feeling him shiver under your touch.

“I dunno, all of this just feels so….natural still, I guess. Eight years is a long time, and part of me was really worried that we’d be different now, that things just wouldn’t work out for whatever reason.” As Jeff speaks, he’s avoiding your eye, something he’s always done when having a serious conversation about feelings and the like. “But this has all just been so easy, like it was all just supposed to happen this way.”

Pressing your lips together thoughtfully, you nod, exhaling a quick breath as you let your fingertips run along his arm idly. “Yeah, I know what you mean, don’t worry,” you assure him, giving him a sleepy smile as you nod again.

“Since I saw you at that game, I just haven’t been able to get any of this out of my head, I haven’t been able to get you out of my head,” Jeff says, letting out a breath. His words are a little slurred still, sounding just as tired as you are. “I know I loved you when we were kids, but god, it’s just so much more now, if that even makes any sense.” He’s looking everywhere but your eyes, his hand coming up to push your hair away from your face gently.

Your cheeks flush in the dark and a grin spreads wide across your face. “When did you turn into such a sap?” you ask, tilting your head up enough to kiss him lazily. He hums against your mouth like he doesn’t want to pull away.

“I dunno. I just know that I love you,” he says softly, moving away as little as possible. His nose bumps against your lightly as you grin, turning to lean into him more, your hand coming up to touch his cheek.

“I love you too,” you reply, unable to hold back the giddy, happy laugh that bubbles inside you. You kiss him again, harder this time despite the fact that you can hardly even think straight because you’re so tired. He’s smiling against your mouth, you can feel it, and when you pull back, it’s with a sigh. “Can we please go to sleep now?” Your words come with a sleepy grin that Jeff mirrors and he nods, giving you another quick kiss before motioning for you to roll over again.

You don’t think you’ve ever fallen asleep so quickly, leaning back against his chest as his arm stays tight around your waist. When you wake up in the morning, your eyes ache with a hangover, and you come to slowly, grumbling softly in annoyance at the distant sound of ringing. You can feel Jeff stirring behind you, and unwilling to fully wake up just yet, you turn over in his arms to bury your face in his chest. Your eyes are still closed when he rubs a hand over your back sleepily, kissing your hairline.

“Baby, I think that’s your phone is ringing,” he murmurs, making you groan softly. His voice is rough with sleep and it makes you want to ignore your phone all together and go back to sleep.

“That explains the ringing at least,” you grumble, forcing yourself to roll away from him. When you get to your feet, you sway a bit before following the sound of your phone into the bathroom. You don’t even have time to question how you’d managed to leave it in there the night before, and you roll your eyes when you see that it’s your boss calling.

Friday’s work emergency had bled into Saturday, and your boss was panicking, leaving you to promise you’d be at the office as soon as you could. After using the bathroom and looking around for mouthwash to use, you hurry back out to the bedroom where Jeff is still curled up on his side. Quickly, you slip out of the sweats you’d slept in and tugged on your jeans from last night before running a hand over your hair in hopes that it wasn’t too much of a mess.

When you turn around after tossing his sweats into the nearby hamper, Jeff has shifted onto his back and was giving you a sleepy smile. “Time for you to go?” he asks, dragging a hand down his face before yawning.

Nodding with a pouty grin, you shove your phone in your back pocket. “Yeah, unfortunately,” you say with a sigh, taking the couple steps to approach the bed. “Yesterday’s work boiled over into today and I have to head in. I’ve got to run home and change.” As you speak, you lean over him, pressing a quick kiss to his mouth before straightening up again.

“Do you want a ride home?” he asks, already starting to sit up as if to get ready to go. Laughing quietly, you shake your head, bringing a hand up to push him back down onto the bed.

“No, don’t worry about me, I’ve got an Uber on the way, just go back to sleep,” you assure him, smiling softly as he nods. You phone chimes in your pocket and grabbing it, you see that the car is outside. “I’ll see you tomorrow for brunch, okay?”

Jeff nods as he yawns into his pillow, settling back into bed as you start to turn toward the door. He says your name, and you turn back to him with raised eyebrows. The sleepy grin on his face as he looks up at you makes your heart flutter. “I love you,” he tells you, yawning all over again and making you roll your eyes with a fond smile as you yawn right after him. 

[jenovahh]

The Honey Pot - 2

This was originally titled “Black Rose” but i’ve finally settled on a title \o/

===========================================================

“They’re making you go after who?!”

You wince slightly at your friend’s shrill scream of outrage, bowing slightly in apology to the other customers in the restaurant.

“Lyse, you really need to keep your voice down,” You try to hush her, pushing her bowl of noodles a bit closer to her person. Her sparkling blue eyes are aflame in anger, hand roughly snatching the bowl so quickly that broth sloshes onto the table. Her blonde hair is tied up high in a ponytail, her police uniform clean and pressed. 

“How can I be quiet when they are having you do such a high level mission?!” She snarls, all but shoving her chopsticks into her food.

“Really Lyse, her captain wouldn’t have given her the assignment if she didn’t think she wasn’t capable.” Y’shtola chimes in, ever the calm to Lyse’s occasional hotheadedness. “Though I must admit, I have my reservations...” She trails off, brows furrowing. “Also, could you tell me where my chopsticks are?”

“Three o’ clock.” You and Lyse reply, to which the Miqo’te woman thanks you. Though blind, Y’shtola was a nurse at a local hospital, and though she did not work directly with you and Lyse, you had often bumped into her enough times on calls to make her acquaintance. With delicate hands, she picks up her chopsticks and begins to eat.

“Look guys,” you begin, taking a sip of your soda, “I’m nervous too, but like ‘Shtola said, I don’t think the captain would give me this mission if she didn’t believe in me.” Picking up your chopsticks as well, you lightly stir the noodles in the broth, resting your chin on your free hand. “Besides...if this mission goes well, imagine what it could mean for me in the long run? A promotion? Climbing up the ranks?”

“A promotion? In this economy?” Lyse snorts, pausing to slurp up some more noodles. “According to the files, no one even really knows much about the guy’s son anyway and they’re just throwing you in there on a hunch! You said in the reports that this Zenos guy right,”

Y’shtola has to stop herself from clapping a hand over her friend’s stupid mouth. “Lyse! Be careful!” She hisses, tail frizzing up.

“What else am I supposed to call him? We don’t know shit about him right?” Lyse defends, pointing her utensils at the riled Miqo’te. “They are feeding our friend to the wolves Y’shtola! I have a right to give the captain a piece of my mind,” You stop your friend’s tirade by reaching across the table and flicking her square in the forehead. “Ow! What did you do that for?!” She whines, rubbing at the offended spot.

“Lyse, while I appreciate your concern,” you begin diplomatically, giving her a small smile, “I’m not worried about this mission at all. In fact I’m a little excited.” You admit, your smile growing wider.

“Only someone as crazy as yourself would be eager to go fight the son of a crime lord...” Lyse grumbles, not at all hiding her pout. “Regardless, you promise to be careful, won’t you?” Y’shtola presses, her voice leaving no room for argument.

“Of course ‘Shtola. I would never be anything less.” You grin, steering the conversation onto easier, more pleasant topics such as Y’shtola’s relationship with her boyfriend Runar and Lyse fending off coworkers who can’t take no for an answer. 

The next day finds you back at headquarters preparing for a debriefing. Your name is no longer yours it feels like, being written away like that one movie you watched as a kid. Honey is the name you are given, and though it is a bit masculine, you find yourself unable to care. It isn’t your name, and that’s what matters.

“So, Honey, here’s how we’re going to weasel you into the crime underworld.” Merlwyb’s voice carries clearly in the room, Raubahn sitting casually at his desk, but his eyes are as hard as ever. You turn your eyes to the projection on the wall, showcasing the Rakuza District. It’s certainly not the seediest place in the city, but even you wouldn’t go out of your way to go there. 

“Word on the street is every once in awhile, you can catch a few decent brawls down there. Simple stuff, some petty gangs getting together to strut their stuff. None of them are anywhere near the level Varis is on in terms of their ‘goods’, but still they attract Zenos’ attention all the same.” The slide shuffles over to a seemingly abandoned warehouse. “Rumor has it that Zenos himself has been known to grace these lowlives with his presence in hopes of a challenge.”

“You’ll be working closely with another operative, whose code name is Thancred. We’ve had him slithering into a low level gang called the Marauders; all they do is petty crime. Break into a few jewelry stores, rob some gas stations. My twelve year old could take on these chumps.” She scoffs in disdain, complete with an eye roll. “We could clean these guys off the streets any day. But what matters is they’re our in; you’re going to join them under the guise of being a new recruit. Showing up on your own would look too suspicious.” She crosses her long arms pinning you with her stare. “I’m sure you understand that you must use whatever means necessary to catch his attention.” 

You definitely catch what she’s implying, and resist the urge to roll your eyes. “Hopefully he’s just interested in a good fight and nothing else.” You sigh, shifting in your seat. Merlwyb nods and gestures to Raubahn, who then speaks.

“We want you to look the part, play the part as much as possible. Don’t worry about any small theft or crime they have you participate in; it’ll be cleared from your record. We need you to be as convincing as possible. These people are smart Honey, the top of their class. Do what you must to get the info, but most importantly do what you must to stay alive.”

You nod in understanding, releasing a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You are moved to a new apartment on a different side of town from your own, given a different car, a different ID, a different wardrobe.

You wonder if it’d be too much to ask them to let you keep it all. After all your thighs do look amazing in fishnet tights and tight leather shorts, a snug leather vest sitting just so under your breasts atop a red tanktop. Your favorite fighting gloves adorned your hands; the only real leather you owned prior to this whole operation. With your combat boots and some black eyeliner, you finished off what you hoped was a bad girl look. You had binged on a few movies to try and get the look as close as possible.

“Hey baby, how you doin?”

Well it seemed to get the “right” attention anyway. The first few weeks at the Marauders are surprisingly uneventful, the hideout seeming restless as if waiting for some action. Sure enough Merlwyb’s words ring true. They’re nowhere near the level of crime that the Galvuses are. It’s just a group of big, burly men and women acting tough, Maetifyst heralding as their leader. He’s certainly the biggest and burliest of them all, and Thancred warns you to steer clear of him at all costs.

You do your best to hold your own, not at all trained in matters of espionage. You decide that aloof and mysterious is the best persona to take on; aloof to the point of oddity. That strangeness seems to give you a negative reputation in the gang, though it is soon bolstered with respect when you start winning your first infights. The members of the gang are all worse than amateurs compared to your training, with zero combat experience and used to simply throwing their weight around at whoever pisses them off. There are a few who approach you in challenge, thinking themselves bigger and smarter, only for you to send them packing and running to get patched up with their tail between their legs.

It is your talent however, that puts you right in the way of Maetifyst. 

“You’re tough lil’ cookie ain’t cha?” The Roegadyn’s green skin somehow glows warmly in the light of his makeshift office, looking deceptively decent somehow in this abandoned warehouse. Dressed in a stark black suit and his hair styled upwards, he certainly carries himself as the boss. “Checkin’ up on new recruits ain’t much to me. All I need is muscle who will do as they’re told. You however...” his eyes run across you in a way that had you not needed to be undercover, your fist would be through his chest. “You might be just what we need.”

You pause for a moment to tilt your head. “Need for what?” You ask, playing the innocent doe.

“Tell me girl, have you ever heard of the Galvuses?” His voice his hushed now, his hand reaching to pour himself a glass of whiskey from a nearby bottle. He gently grabs a nearby glass, pouring the liquor smoothly until it is half full.

You take another moment to pause before answering. “You mean like the businessmen?” You question, watching as the man smirks.

“Aye, the businessmen. ‘Cept they ain’t no businessmen. They’s some right crooks, that they are.” He chortles, swirling the liquor in its glass. “The Galvuses have little people like us under their heel yeah? Might shock ya to know, but they’re actual crime bosses; like the ones in the movies.” He reclines in his chair, knocking back the whole glass and slamming it on the table when he’s done. “And we’re sick of ‘em.”

You lean forward slightly to show your interest. “Do they...bully you or something?” You ask, wincing at your choice of words. Maetifyst seems to not notice, instead bellowing in laughter, eyes twinkling with mirth.

“S’pose you could say that huh?” He chuckles, crossing one leg over the other. “When it comes to crime in Kugane, we answer to them in a way. Ya see we deal in DVDs, watches, even some cheap drugs on the side. But it’s not the real stuff. It ain’t Black Rose.”

You do your best to hide your spike of interest, fighting to remain aloof as Maetifyst just gives himself away. He must really want you to worm your way into the Galvuses’ gang to be giving away this info for free. “Black Rose...isn’t that,”

“It’s the good stuff.” He chuckles. “Students love the shit, yeah? For awhile the Galvuses had a monopoly on the stuff, but seems like they got a bit too big for their britches if ya catch my drift. I got in contact with a fellow gang called the Gunbreakers and they been cookin’ up some equally good shit. It’s been bringin’ in some real money for us.” Opening a drawer at his desk he pulls out a cigar, accompanied by a lighter. “However, them Galvuses ain’t too keen on us pushin’ in on their turf. Things been tense lately. But with you...” He trails off, giving you a once over again.

“If I can get you to catch Zenos yae Galvus’ attention with skills like yours, you just may be our in.” He sneers, taking a long drag from the cigar. “Not to say I don’t like havin’ ya around, but we could probably trade ya for some corners. I wouldn’t worry much about it. I know they treat folks good over there, with all the cash they got.”

You can’t hold back your snort fast enough, fumbling to recover. “Me? Good enough to get in with the Galvus line?” You do your best to come off as incredulous as possible, hoping he buys your slip up. The irony of the situation is not lost on you.

“Now’s not the time to act humble kid. My fightin’ days may be over, but even I can tell you wreck shop.” He takes another long drag, blowing out smoke into the stuffy office. “The Galvuses keep their crew tight. Don’t replace their ranks unless one of them ‘leaves’ if you catch my drift. Your opportunity comes this weekend, where we’ll be putting you in their little tournament. Climb to the top and snag the attention of the Galvus’ lines higher ups. If they like ya enough, maybe they’ll send one of their boys on their way out.”

“Just like that, huh?” You question, trying not to huff at Maetifyst’s easy grin.

“Just like that.”

[crashdevlin]

My Forever

Author’s Note: Written for @spnkinkbingo, filling my Roommates square... also written for @dean-winchesters-bacon because I was attacked by Jensen pics and gifs until I agreed to write some smut of this gorgeous man. (thank you, I love you, you’re awesome, but now I have to focus on that Sam smut lol)

Summary: Y/n is staying with Jensen while she works on the show. An unmated omega and an unmated alpha staying in the same apartment is asking for trouble, even if y/n is on suppressants that completely hide her true nature.

Pairing(s): Alpha!Jensen X Omega!Reader

Word Count: 2742

Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, 18+ HERE BE SEX DON’T READ IF YOU’RE A YOUNG’UN!!!  unprotected sex, knotting sex,truemates

Wanna enhance your fanfic experience? Get Jensen’s hydrosol from @scentsfromthebunker

It wasn't ideal. You knew that an unmated omega living with an unmated alpha was asking for trouble, but you also knew that you couldn't stay in the fleabag motel the studio put you up in and you certainly couldn't afford your own apartment. Jensen was nice enough to offer you his pull-out couch and you were not going to turn that down. You were on suppressants, anyway, and used special body wash to hide your scent. For all intents and purposes, you were a beta, and that's how it was going to stay. Besides, you were only going to be Jensen's roommate for a month while you worked as this half-season's villain, then you would go back home and never see him again, probably. It wasn't a big deal.

Except, of course, that Jensen Ackles was the sexiest man you'd ever laid eyes on, alpha or otherwise, and his scent was intoxicating and absolutely blanketed the apartment. There wasn't a single place to get relief aside from the little balcony outside of the kitchen. So, of course, that's where you spent most of your time, even though November in Vancouver was cold as fuck. He often came home from shooting to find you wrapped in blankets and hoodies, just looking at your phone and breathing in the crisp air.

“You really like that balcony, don't’cha?” he asked at the beginning of the second week of you staying with him, as you entered the kitchen from the balcony to go pull out the sofa-bed.

You shrugged. “Don't get views like that in Louisiana… and the air tastes better up here. New Orl’ins smells like swamp gas and urine. Smells like worse come Mardi Gras or Pride.”

Jensen scoffed. “Imagine how bad it'd be if you weren't beta. I've been to Mardi Gras. Smell almost killed me.”

You gave a tight smile. You couldn't tell him about the nose plugs you generally stuck in your nose during festival weeks and parades back home. Something you wished you could get away with now, but couldn't do without giving away your presentation. Breathing surreptitiously through your mouth would have to work, instead. “Yeah. Lucky me.”

“Hey, you get the changes to Monday's schedule?” he asked, not looking up from the pot of coffee he was making.

You nodded. “Yeah, I'm shooting with Second Unit and I'm doing the scenes with Jared. All the stuff with you got pulled.”

“Yeah, uh… I'm… huh.” He looked a bit uncomfortable as he looked up and bit his lip. “I'm in pre-rut. It's early, for some reason. Haven't been off-cycle since I was still on Days, but something…” He shook his head. “Anyway, I'm going to lock myself in my room for a few days. No work for me.” He said it with a smile, but it was forced.

“You want me to get out of here? I mean, I can't imagine you want some coworker you barely know to… to be witness to… you know, to that.” You felt a bit uncomfortable, yourself, at the thought of being around an alpha in rut, and a bit guilty that your presence might have triggered an early rut in him.

“Nah, it'll be okay. Like I said, I'm just gonna hole up in my room with some water and a box of protein bars and I'll hit the gym while you're at work to get the aggression out. I'm sure it'll be… I'm sure it's fine.”

You nodded. “Okay. Well, uh, I'm going to get some sleep. Let me know if you need anything, Ackles. I owe you, so… if you need anything.”

He licked his lips and nodded. “Yeah, thanks.”

You had a nervous pit in your stomach as you laid yourself down on your side and listened to Jensen preparing his room. You knew you should leave. Things were going to be difficult if you stayed. But you couldn't afford to leave. Not only could you literally not afford it, but it would out you as an omega.

You would just have to deal with it.

~~~~~~~~~

“The dude's been every second week of June and December for as long as I've known him. I don't know what could have fuckin’ set him off a month early, but it fucked up our schedule,” Jared complained the next morning.

“I don't see why it's such a big deal, Jared. They just moved all of the stuff from next week to this week and this week to next week. No biggie.”

“It's a big deal because what if he's sick?” You turned to him with a raised eyebrow. “He's thirty-six and he's never had an omega. He's gonna get sick and he's gonna go crazy if he doesn't settle down. That's just basic fuckin’ anatomy. We figured he had more time but what if this cycle shift is the start of ferality?”

You bit the inside of your lip. No, Jensen wasn't going feral. His body was just reacting to being in close quarters with an omega trying to hide her genetics. “I'm sure he's fine… but, you know, why hasn't he got an omega? An alpha that looks like that, that's as nice and successful as Jensen…” You looked away from Jared, hoping he wouldn't notice the way your cheeks were heating up. “I mean, I know Vancouver doesn't have a lot of omegas, but isn't Austin, like, a haven for them? Because of all the pro-omega laws the mayor put in place back in oh-eight?”

Jared laughed. “He's waiting for his truemate. I've tried to tell him that's not likely to happen, but he thinks, since I met mine, he's gonna meet his.”

You smiled, tightly, heart aching a bit at the thought of truemates. Not that you were ever going to find yours while on suppressants, but that was every young omega's dream, finding that perfect mate. “Well, I'm sure he'll find her, eventually… definitely before he goes feral. Dude's a rock. Let's go get some work done, huh?” You didn't give him time to respond before walking away.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Walking into Jensen's apartment was like walking into a solid wall of pheromones. The scent that had been driving you crazy for a week and a half was so strong that it stalled out your brain. You couldn't move for a few long moments, your body refusing to listen to your mind telling it to move out of the doorway. When you realized you were literally drooling at the scent of him, you told yourself to leave. If he noticed the way his scent was affecting you, he'd know you were an omega. Your body was tingling at the pheromones, the promise of an alpha in rut just beyond his bedroom door and after you took that first deep breath, you couldn't make yourself breathe through your mouth again.

You held back the moan that wanted to escape you, but you couldn’t keep your feet from carrying you down the hallway to Jensen’s bedroom door or the deep breaths you were pulling into your lungs. Deep moans from the other side of the wood forced your eyes closed. You could imagine him on his bed, big hand wrapped around his huge alpha cock, fucking himself in a fit of sexual aggression.

“Y/n.” The strangled groan sent a shockwave straight to your core, slick starting to leak out of your entrance. “I can smell you, Omega.” You grimaced. He knew. “Go away. We’ll talk about it after.”

You tried to move, to turn around and walk away, to go sleep in your rental car or something, but your feet just carried you closer to the door. “I… I can’t,” you whispered. He growled and your knees went weak. You grabbed onto the doorframe, resting your forehead against the door. “Jensen, I’ve been trying to walk away since I unlocked the front door. I can’t.”

The door yanked open and you looked up at him, eyes heavy-lidded. “You said you were beta. You fuckin’ lied. You-”

“I couldn’t- People don’t treat- I wouldn’t have the-” you babbled, your eyes traveling down his body to the place where his hand was wrapped around his cock.

“You know how crazy I’ve been? I knew you were the reason I went into fuckin’ rut and I thought I’d lost my mind because you were fuckin’ beta, but you aren’t.”

“I’m sorry.” Your mouth watered as you watched him move his hand down to the base where his knot was begging to pop.

“Get on the bed,” he demanded, pointing at the mattress.

Your eyes jumped to his. “What?”

“Don’t you get it? You’re mine, y/n. My omega. S’why you can’t leave, why I went into rut a month out of cycle, and if you don’t get on that bed and fuckin’ present for me, we’re both gonna have a fuckin’ problem… because you…” His hand shot out and cupped your cheek, sending an electric shock through your body. “...are about to go into heat.”

You whined as your knees went weak again. He was right. His rut was sending you into heat. The cramps were already starting, your breathing heavy, your mind clouding with lust. You closed your eyes and leaned into his touch. “J-jensen, you don’t… you don’t want-”

“Not about ‘want’, ‘mega. ‘Need’. Need you. Need my omega. Open your eyes.” You did as you were told without even thinking about it, looking up into his eyes. “I’ve thought you were gorgeous since you walked on set. It’s why I offered my couch up when you were complaining about the motel. Wanted to get to know you better. I’ve been drawn to you… ‘cause you’re mine. I don’t wanna force you into something you don’t-”

“Of course I do, but… if I… if everyone knows what I am, then-”

“I’ll protect you, y/n. No one’s gonna mess with my omega.”

The doubt in your heart was dissipating as the fever started to burn your body up. “You r-really think I’m your-”

“Yes. Mine. Now, take your clothes off and get on the bed.” He stepped backward, pointing at the bed again. Your shirt was over your head before you could blink, your sneakers kicked into the corner soon after. He growled as your jeans fell to your ankles. “Now.”

You scrambled to get your bra off as Jensen leaned forward to grab the waistband of your panties and ripped them down your legs. You were on the bed with your ass in the air within seconds. He leaned down behind you, inhaling deeply. “That scent. How have you been hiding that delicious fucking smell?”

“Korean body wash.”

His tongue slid between your lips, lapping at the slick there and making you cry out. “Not anymore.” He ran his hand across your back and buried it in your hair. “No hiding. I wanna smell you.” His hand pushed your head into the blanket as he lined his cock up against your entrance. “Can’t take it slow this time. Need you.”

“Take me, Alpha.”

He growled again and you whimpered into the mattress as he slid the head of his cock into you. “Gonna take you hard. Make you cum all over my knot.”

“Fuck.”

“Yes.” A single thrust had him completely sheathed inside you. “Damn it, y/n. You feel so fuckin’ good.”

“Jay, please. Please, Alpha.”

He yanked your head backward and pulled you up so that your back was pressed against his chest, twisting your head so that he could slit his full lips against yours, making you moan as he claimed your mouth with his tongue. You could feel him pulsing inside of you as his tongue swept across yours. “Mine,” he growled, rubbing his stubbled cheek against your neck as he gave his hips an experimental roll.

“Yours,” you said, gasping.

His hand wrapped around your throat, lightly, holding you up as he started to snap his hips into you in a cadence faster than you’d ever seen outside of porn. He growled as he sucked a mark into the back of your neck. It wasn’t a claiming bite but it felt like one to you.

Part of you, the part that was still clinging to the independence you’d enjoyed as a beta, told you that you were going to hate being someone’s. Everything you’d worked for was going to be negated. Your home in New Orleans? Gone. You were gonna have to follow Jensen. Your career? Gone. No one was gonna hire you once they knew you were an omega.

Another part of you, the part you’d been denying since your presentation, couldn’t wait for his knot to be locked inside of you. Couldn’t wait for his cum to be warming your insides. Couldn’t wait for your belly to be round with his pups, his mark on your neck.

“My ‘mega. So wet for me. So soft.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Jensen, please, god, please, knot me.”

“Gonna give you my knot, y/n. So close,” he grunted in your ear as his knot started to inflate, catching on your entrance with each quick thrust.

“So close, Alpha. So close. Need it. Please,” you whined.

He dragged his hand down your body, thick fingers drawing circles around your clit and making you literally scream his name as your clenched around his cock, cumming hard as he shoved his knot into you with one last hard thrust and both of you fell forward onto the bed. He continued to play with your clit as his cock twitched inside of you, letting off spurts of alpha cum into your waiting womb.

His body was heavy on top of yours, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Instead of stifling you, the weight was reassuring. Everything seemed right, enveloped by his warmth and scent, his knot locked inside you.

He kissed along your shoulder before rolling you onto your side. “Gonna have to call Bob, tell him that you’re not gonna be able to work this week, either,” he whispered, running his nose along your neck.

You groaned. “They’re gonna fire me.”

“No. No, they’re not,” he reassured you. “There are anti-discrimination laws, y/n.”

“They’ll find a way. It happens all the time.”

He wrapped his arms around you and held you close. “They’re not going to fire my omega, y/n. They wouldn’t want to piss me off. They didn’t fire Genevieve.”

“They wrote her character out.”

“They were never going to keep Ruby. She didn’t get written out because Gen is an omega. She was honest from the start… unlike someone.”

You shook your head and twisted your neck to try to see him. “I’m sorry, Jensen. I shouldn’t have moved in here. This is all my fault.”

He scoffed, leaning up on his elbow to look down at you. “Why are you so determined for this to be a bad thing, ‘mega?”

“Because being an omega has brought me nothing but pain, Jensen.”

“Sweetheart, what we are is somethin’ special. Why would you want to be-”

“Typical alpha: doesn’t know what it’s like at the bottom of the pyramid.”

“There’s nothing typical about me, y/n, and I understand, okay? I’ve seen how omegas get treated sometimes, but things have gotten a lot more progressive and I’m not gonna let anybody mess with you. You’re my truemate, y/n.”

You sighed. You tried to fight the way the words comforted you, but you couldn’t. You relaxed backward into him. “Can we just… can we just get through this?”

Jensen gave a quick kiss to your neck and relaxed behind you, wrapping you in his arms. “No. We can’t just get through this. You aren’t just mine for this rut. You’re my forever.”

You whined at the declaration, covering your face with your hands. “You don’t want me to be your forever, Jay. I’m not-”

He growled, tightening his grip on you. “Don’t tell me what I want, woman. I know what I want. I know what I need. I know what is mine. You are my forever.”

You nodded. “Okay. I’m yours. Forever.”

“Everything else… we’ll work on after.” He placed a kiss to the back of your neck and you shivered. You felt him smile against your skin. “This where you want your mark, ‘mega? Or you want it here?” He licked the side of your neck and you moaned. “Can’t wait for you to wear my mark.”

“Forever.”

KITCHEN SINK TAGS @heyitscam99 @wonderlandfandomkingdom @unlikelysamwinchesteronahunt @mrs-meghan-winchester @henrymorganme @lonely-skys @allykat2108 @mogaruke @flamencodiva @team-free-will-you-idjits-67 @pisces-cutie @paintballkid711 @natura1phenomenon

HUNTER TAGS @letsby @mrswhozeewhatsis @adoptdontshoppets @spnskinnyballs @deansenwackles @gayspacenerd @thewhiterabbit42

GAGA FOR GREEN EYES TAGS @akshi8278

[jawnjendes]

little fighter | shawn mendes

university au, shawn x goth gf

an: this is apart of @fourtristattoos spring fest. i didn’t go with the weekly theme but i did use a few of the prompts from the list provided, and i will continue to do so for this series until the fest is over. honestly, im really proud of this chapter in particular, and it would be cool if ppl read it or whatever. if you like whats going on here, blease check out my masterlist for this series :)

masterlist | series playlist

For someone who acts composed with no fucks to give, I harbor quite a bit of guilt. I've always felt bad about things I did or did not have control over. I came from a good family. My parents never divorced, and they supported me through and through. I was always a good student in school, I even got into not one, but three amazing psychology departments at different universities. I had good friends throughout my life. I loved and lost. I experienced things the typical human goes through, and that was before I moved to Canada.

I was quite lucky. Nothing tragic happened in my childhood or teen years to make me the way I am now.

No, I don't count my abnormal digestive issues as something tragic. It's not tragic. Besides, that started in my early adulthood and yes, I harbored guilt about that too because I was able to manage it without much hassle.

So tell me why my self esteem was so shot that I went after shitty people so they could love me the way younger me imagined. Tell me why I got so depressed before university that I stopped going to work and school. Tell me what I did that made me a nervous stick in the mud. When and why did my brain become my biggest enemy?

This isn't about my not-tragic backstory. This is about where I'm at now. I've done my crying and wallowing. I go to therapy and swallow my pills.

I'm worried this will be perceived as a “she got a boyfriend and now she's healed” trope. It's not that. Like I said, I've done my healing. The fact that I have Shawn now is a very, very fortunate bonus. I know my worth now, even though sometimes I feel like I don't deserve him. I know what I don't deserve, and that's every relationship I had before Shawn came along.

He wasn't ashamed of his own feelings. There was never a moment where he didn’t tell me how he felt about me. He wasn't afraid to tell people that I was his girlfriend. He was all but bursting whenever he talked about our families meeting. I know that's the barest of minimums, but you would be surprised at the amount of relationships I had that were 50% shame and 50% hiding.

Shawn was always going the extra mile for me. If my digestive system was messing itself up, he kept me bed bound at his apartment, and he nursed me back to health. If I was bored to death at work, he would come and visit me after my manager's shift ended. He would drive thirty minutes into town to bring me lunch as well.

Work. That's where this is going. I was sat in my tiny office with Manager Stacy and Coworker Jason, counting down the minutes to my break. It had been a long day, what with customers complaining about $30 oil changes, or telling me their life stories in a rude manner over the phone. I had to smile at gross older men staring down my shirt as they paid for their car service. Stacy was short tempered and tired, so she gave us hell for little things like the printer being out of paper. She yelled at Luca for slouching in his chair, and that prompted him to leave the room. At least he had the liberty to to do that. I had to stay at my tiny window and feel Stacy's third eye burn a hole in the back of my head.

I would have texted Shawn telling him to just take me somewhere for lunch as opposed to bringing me something, but I didn't want to get yelled at for being on my phone. I just pretended to add up gas receipts while periodically looking at the time on the computer.

Somehow, Shawn read my mind. I saw him enter the dealership from my post, and he was empty handed. Typically, he had a to-go bag from my favorite restaurant. He made eye contact with me and smiled, coming up to my tiny window. Before he could say anything, a male voice called his name.

A deep pit formed in my stomach as Luca excitedly came into view. He greeted Shawn with a handshake/bro hug and a “What's up, man?”

Not going to lie, I forgot they knew each other. I forgot that Luca gave Shawn the concept for his song Mercy, even though I skipped that song when it came on these days.

I grabbed my purse from under my desk as I let the two catch up. I told Stacy I was taking my lunch break and then stepped out of the office. I stepped up to Shawn, still feeling uneasy.

“What brings you here, man?” Luca asked him. “Need service on your car? Or are you finally trading that thing in?”

“Nah, I'm just here to see my girl,” he replied as he took my hand.

Luca tilted his head and pursed his lips the way he always did when he was confused. His eyes trailed towards me like he barely noticed I was there.

“You two?” he asked in disbelief.

“Four and a half months,” Shawn replied with a smile.

I couldn't help but triumph in the shocked expression Luca had on his face. I smiled a little bit.

“I thought you were lying about that,” he said to me.

“Why would I?” I asked in return. Then, I walked towards the building exit, dragging Shawn with me.

~

I'm not one for flexing what I got, but I was particularly happy about Shawn walking me back into the dealership when we got back from lunch. We went for sushi down the street and spent most of my lunch hour in the car. We were still in our own little world, I was genuinely smiling. Other salesmen who worked here had to do a double take because I wasn't doing the typical customer service smile.

We stopped at the door to my office. Shawn planted a quick kiss on me and promised to see me later. I couldn't help but watch him as he walked past the office window towards the exit. I was okay to think about our little world until the end of my shift tonight. However, I was snapped back into reality at the sound of all too familiar words coming out of the all too familiar devil's mouth.

“Fucking whore…”

My smile dropped, but I was ready to roll my eyes and move on. Shawn, on the other hand, stopped in his tracks and turned on his heel. He went up to the window and looked directly at Luca.

“What did you just say?” he asked, leaning on the little ledge. He was smiling, but it wasn't hard to tell that he was annoyed.

“I'm just calling it as I see it,” Luca replied with an all too casual shrug. “She tell you what she got up to before you came along?”

I know I said I was about to let it go… but I ended up barging into the office and going right up to Luca. I grabbed the arm of the chair he was sitting in and forcibly turned him towards me.

“You don't get to do that,” I said loudly, not caring about my professional reputation at the moment.

Luca had an amused look on his stupid face. His dimples showed, and he was trying not to laugh.

“No - you don't get to act like I don't exist and then get salty because I found someone who's way better than you will ever be!” I pointed a finger at him. “You're the last person who gets to call me a whore! You broke the pieces of me that I gave you! You toyed with me for two and a half years, you manipulated and used me and you do not get to call me a whore because I decided I deserve better! You don't get to make any criticisms about my life. Get fucked!”

Silence rang through the tiny office. Jason and Stacy were standing at the back, mouths open. The smirk on Luca's face had vanished, and his face flushed with embarrassment. I was ready to throw hands if he dared to speak.

Then, Shawn spoke. “Let's step out for a second.”

My eyes darted to him. He nodded his head to the side, towards some customers who had lined up behind him. One was a girl about my age who was smiling at the tea being spilled. Behind her was an older couple who looked annoyed at my lack of professionalism.

“Go,” Stacy piped up in her stern manager voice. “I'll help these guys.”

I sighed angrily and went out the door again. I muttered an “excuse me” as I went past the small line of customers and I walked past Shawn. He quickly followed me, telling me to slow down.

“Hey!” He jogged up to me as I stepped outside into the oncoming night. He grabbed my hand to stop me. “Honey…”

I wanted to childishly pull away from his grasp and fold my arms. I wanted to run back inside and drop kick my coworker. Steam was still blowing out of my ears, and I wanted to fucking fight.

“Does he always say things like that?” Shawn asked.

“Yes,” I grumbled, looking out at the shiny new vehicles that were displayed in the parking lot. “That's all I am to him, that's all I've been to him since I broke up with him.”

“And you just let him get away with it?”

My seething eyes now pointed at my boyfriend. I yanked my hand away from his and flailed both my arms as I unleashed another bout of rage. “You think this is the first time I've yelled at him? You think I always just lay back and take it all the time? I'm always sticking up for myself in this god awful place because I'm the bitch who doesn't smile! Nobody here has my back! My own boss didn't even say anything to him! If you think I'm the type to take-”

Shawn quickly held his hands up, trying to calm my hysterical movements. “Okay, okay! I'm sorry. I know you don't take anyone's bullshit. He deserved to get yelled at. I would have done it myself, but you're my little fighter.” He offered a smile.

If there was any special nickname he had for me that wasn't the typical “honey” or anything involving my all black attire, it was that. “Little fighter.” Hearing it helped diffuse some of my anger.

I finally felt rational enough to take a deep breath, calming me down even more. Shawn offered his hand, but I wasn't ready for that just yet.

He thought otherwise. “Please, just take my hand.”

“I am a fighter,” I said, folding my arms. “I did not go through various amounts of bullshit to let some fuckboy tear me down.”

Shawn just looked at me for a moment, then he agreed. “That's right.” He was still holding his hand out. “And you're very cute when you're angry.”

I rolled my eyes. “You know, I wanted to kick the shit out of my coworker, but since you're here…”

He chuckled. “Okay, okay. What I meant is, I'm just glad you know your worth. And seeing you stand up for yourself is probably the hottest thing I've ever seen you do.”

Now I took his hand. “Shut up.”

[maealbert]

Bubbles // JJ x Michael x Will

JJ List A/N: Putting a baby to sleep is the hardest for naptime. I literally have to wear Oryn out or I have to make him so bored that he’ll slowly drift off to sleep.

____________________________________________

“Now he’s typically goes down a nap around noon and tends to sleep until two o’clock,” JJ says as she grabs her go-bag. “He doesn’t take a bottle anymore so we use his sippy cup for nap time.”

“Jayge, we gotta go.” Will calls from the front door.

“Oh and he’ll be awake in like an hour. He always wakes up before Henry.”

“Jayge.” Will calls again.

You giggle following JJ to the front door. “I got this, JJ,” You say holding open the front door. “Will is gonna be home by the evening, I’m sure we will all survive before then.” You say before closing the door as they exit the house. Leaning against the door you sigh in relief while shaking your head.

Glancing at you watch you see that it’s only seven thirty. Michael will be up at eight o’clock. Going into the kitchen you start making a pot of coffee before cracking a couple eggs into a bowl to cook for the boys. Your phone rang on the counter and you glance over to see Spencer calling.

“Hey,” You answer before whisking the bowl. “On your way to work?”

“Just about to get on the train.” Spencer says. “Are the boys up yet?”

“Nope, not for another half hour at least. I’m cooking breakfast for them so it’ll be ready when they do get up.”

“Eggs and pancakes?” Spencer questions.

“Only the best.” You giggle.

“Well don’t poison the boys,” Spencer jokes. “JJ wouldn’t like that.”

“No, not, that would be very bad.” Soon you hear footsteps coming down the stairs. “But I gotta go sweets, I think Michael woke up.”

“Good luck.”

“I’m gonna need it.” You say before hanging up.

“Did they leave already?” You hear Henry ask ask as he walks into the kitchen.

“Well you’re up early.” You say placing cooked eggs and a pancake on his plate.

“It’s Monday..” He glumly spoke as he climbed onto one of the bar stools. “I have school.”

“Right, right.” You say nodding your head.

“You are bringing me, right?”

“No, I’m gonna make you walk.” You spoke sarcastically. Giving him a smirk you turn back around to fill Michael’s plate. “Is your brother awake yet?”

“He will be and he will make it known.” Henry says digging into his eggs. “Can I have ketchup?”

“Sure thing.” You say retrieving the bottle from the fridge and squirting some across his eggs.

Suddenly you heard a loud thud upstairs. “And he’s awake.” Henry sighs. “He climbs out of his bed.”

“I can tell.” You say soon hearing more footsteps down the stairs. Michael staggers into the room, his hair all messed up. “Good morning buddy.” You say picking up and placing him on the other bar stool.

“Can I have lime juice?” He asks.

“You and your lime juice.” You say as you get what he requested. “Now with Henry in school, I was thinking we could go play at the park for a little while.” You say to Michael. “How does that sound?’

“Fun!” Michael exclaims.

Dropping of Henry at school, you take Michael to the park to play for a few hours. “Oh he is so cute.” A woman says as she sits down on the bench. “Look at that blonde hair. How old is he?”

“Oh uh, three.” You respond back keeping your eyes trained on Michael. After all the cases Spencer told you about missing children she couldn’t take her eyes off of Michael. “Has he started preschool?”

“Oh no, his father wants to wait until he’s four to put him in school.”

“And you don’t have a say in that?”

“I don’t think my opinion would really matter.”

The woman stared at you in surprise. What kind of woman doesn’t care if her child goes to school or not? “Aren’t you his mother? Don’t you have a say in your child’s education?”

“Wait, what?” You say turning to face her. “My child? Hold on, you think that little blondie is my child?”

“Is he not?”

“No!” You say laughing. “Oh my gosh, he’s my boyfriend’s godson! I’m watching him and his older brother for my boyfriend’s coworkers while they’re at work.” You laugh again shaking your head.

“Oh I’m sorry I thought he was yours.” The woman says in complete shock.

“Don’t worry, you’re not the first to think I’m his mother.” You giggle. Soon Michael runs over to you at the park bench.

“I’m hungry..” He whispers, clearly shy from the woman sitting next from you.

“Okay, we’ll go home and get something to eat.” You say getting up from the park bench and picking him up. “Can you say bye to the nice woman?”

“Bye..” He whispers again as he shook his hand.

After lunch was naptime. Naptime is always a struggle with Michael. JJ said so herself. Laying him down in his bed he started crying. JJ always said he’d run after you trying to escape his room so you quickly dashed out and closing the door behind you.

‘Give him ten minutes.. If he doesn’t stop after ten, then go back in and get him.’

You held the door closed as you waited. He still wasn’t stopping. Glancing down at your watch you notice that it’s only been one minute. Slowly the remaining nine minutes went by and he still hadn’t calmed down. Sighing you open the door again to find him sitting on the floor on the other side of the door, his eyes red and puffy.

“Alright, alright.” You say picking him up and leaving his room.

‘He loves bubbles.’

Retrieving the bubbles from the hall closet, you head outside to get some fresh air. Sitting down in the hammock, you opening the bottle of bubbles and blowing them out while rocking back and forth. Watching him watch the bubbles, his eyes started to roll back as he head started to droop. It went for a couple more times while you blew the bubbles. Taking the chance to close the bottle, he noticed and started whining. “Okay, okay.” You say opening the bottle back up and blowing more bubbles. This time you turned him around to lay against you while you blew the bubbles. Soon his eyes started to close again and his head dropping to the side. When you stopped blowing the bottles he didn’t fuss. Looking down at him you saw that he had fallen asleep.

Standing up from the hammock you quietly went back inside the house and upstairs to his bedroom. Laying him in bed you cover him up and quietly leave the room. Sighing in relief you go back downstairs to enjoy some peace and quiet before he wakes up again.

________________

“So how was he?” Will asks as he puts Henry’s bookbag in the hall closet.

“Very good.” You say. “He should be waking up here soon. It was a little tough getting him down for a nap.”

“Oh I bet.” Will says as he hangs up his coat. “How’d you get him down?”

“He really loves the bubbles and eventually fell asleep watching me as I blew them out.”

Will chuckles as you retrieve your jacket and slip it on. “He does love bubbles.” Will says. “Any plans tonight since the team is away on a case?”

“Probably just order a lot of Chinese take out and binge Friends on Netflix.” You say picking up your purse. “Well have a good night. I’ll be by tomorrow morning.” You say before leaving the house.

tag list: @nomajdetective @literallyreid @idkbutspencer @literallyprentissstwin @remember-me-forever-silent-angel @cynbx @tenaciousarcadeexpert @rawritsmolly @dontshootmespence @princesswagger15 @drspencerreider @illegalcerebral @marvelfanlife @rt8815 @punkpenguin2019 @extremeobsessions101 @spence-imagines

[meditationadvise]

Three Simple Ways to Pay Attention

The most usual reaction I listen to these days when I inform a person I teach reflection is "I'm so worried out. I might actually make use of a few of that." I am also entertained to listen to fairly often "My buddy should actually fulfill you!" I enjoy to see that meditation is recognized increasingly more as something that could be directly handy in our daily lives. Anywhere stress plays a function in our problems, meditation can have a possible role in its relief.

Meditation technique need not be tied to any idea system. The just necessary idea is not a dogmatic one, yet one that says each of us has the ability to comprehend ourselves much more fully, and to care extra deeply both for ourselves and for others. Its techniques work to free us of regular reactions that create us excellent sadness, such as harsh self-judgment, and also to develop wisdom as well as love. Meditation gives any person who seeks it a chance to look within for a sense of abundance, depth, and also link to life.

Rather compared to an ornate, arcane collection of directions, standard reflection is composed of practical tools to help deepen concentration, mindfulness, and compassion.

1. Concentration

Concentration is the art of collecting all that energy, that stormy, scattered interest, and settling, centering.

Concentration steadies as well as focuses our interest so that we could allow go of harmful internal distractions-- is sorry for concerning the past, stresses over the future, addictions-- and also keep from being attracted by external ones. Interruption loses our power, concentration restores it.

We commonly experience our interest scattering to the four winds. We take a seat to assume something through or work with a problem, and prior to we understand it, we're gone. We're shed in ideas of the past, commonly concerning something we currently regret: "I should have said that more masterfully." "I ought to have been less shy and also spoken up." "I should have been smarter and also closed up." We aren't assuming things via to locate a method making amends. We're just lost.

Or our distractedness drives us right into anxiety-filled projections regarding the future. Envision you are resting in an airplane at one of the New York City flight terminals. All of a sudden you begin assuming, "Oh no, I think this airplane may leave late. I make certain it will certainly be late. Currently I'm mosting likely to miss my connection. Exactly what will that suggest? That suggests I'm mosting likely to show up in Rose city, Oregon, after twelve o'clock at night. There will not be any taxis! Exactly what's going to take place to me?" It's as though Portland were famous for having people vanish if they land after midnight!

Without concentration, our minds dilate into the future in such a way that isn't really such as competent preparation however more like exhausting rumination. When I see my very own mind starting that arc of anxiety, I have a claiming I utilize to assist restore me to balance: "Something will certainly take place." There will certainly be a bus. I'll invest the evening in the airport. Something will certainly take place. I can't figure it all out right now.

Concentration is the art of collecting all of that energy, that stormy, scattered focus, and settling. A person came near speak to me just recently when I was educating, opposing my use words focus. He said it advised him of suppression, as though he were squeezing his attention into something, withstanding and feeling bitter anything else that came near pull his interest away. I asked him if steadying or clearing up would excel substitutes, as well as he happily accepted them. That's what concentration in fact suggests. It's not a required, stressful, stretched effort. It's letting points choose exactly what goes to hand.

2. Mindfulness

Mindfulness fine-tunes our focus to ensure that we can connect extra totally as well as straight with whatever life brings. Numerous times our understanding of just what is happening is misshaped by bias, practices, worries, or desires. Mindfulness aids us see with these and also be much more aware of exactly what really is.

Imagine you're on your means to a celebration when you run right into a good friend who points out an earlier meeting he had with your brand-new colleague. He claims, "That person is so boring!" When at the celebration, that do you locate yourself stuck speaking to but that brand-new associate! Because of your good friend's comment (not even your personal understanding), you end up not really listening meticulously to them or looking completely at them. More probable you are assuming about the following 15 e-mails you have to send or fretting as you gaze concerning the room and also see a lot of individuals you prefer to be speaking with. Whatever he or she is stating increases your displeasure and frustration.

But if you understand just what's taking place, it could be that you drop the filter of your pal's comment and also determine to discover out for yourself, from your own straight experience, exactly what you think about your new coworker. You pay attention, you observe, you are broad-minded, interested. By the end of the evening you could choose, "I concur. I locate that individual really uninteresting." However probably not, life also supplies many shocks. Just what is essential is that we're not just led by exactly what we've been told, by the beliefs of others, by conviction or bias or presumption. Rather, we shape our perception with as clear as well as open an assumption as possible.

Mindfulness does not depend on just what is occurring, however has to do with how we connect to what is taking place. That's why we state that mindfulness can go anywhere. We could be conscious of pleasure as well as grief, pleasure and also discomfort, stunning songs and also a screech. Mindfulness doesn't imply these all flatten out and also come to be one huge blob, without distinction or intensity or flavor or structure. Instead, it indicates that old regular methods of connecting-- maybe holding on fiercely to pleasure, to make sure that, ironically, we are in fact appreciating it less, or frowning at as well as pressing away pain, to ensure that, regretfully, we experience a great deal much more, or numbing out, detaching from average, not really interesting experiences, so that we're half in a desire a great deal of the moment. All these self-defeating, restricting reactions don't have to be there.

We could easily misinterpret mindfulness and consider it as passive, complacent, also a little bit boring. I was showing someplace lately and also began the formal meditation guideline, as I usually do, with the recommendation to just sit in an unwinded method and also hear the sounds in the room. Somebody raised his hand right now and asked, "If I hear the noise of the smoke detector, should I simply rest here 'mindfully,' knowing I'm hearing the smoke detector go off, or should I stand up as well as leave?" I responded, "I 'd 'mindfully' obtain up and also leave!"

I understood his concern. When we hear phrases typically used to explain mindfulness, like "simply be with exactly what is," "approve today moment," "do not get shed in judgment," it can appear very inert. The actual experience of mindfulness is of vibrant, alive, open area where imaginative responses to situations have area to emerge, precisely since we're not stuck in the well-worn grooves of the same old habitual reactions. In mindfulness, we do not shed discernment and also knowledge. These high qualities, in reality, come to be much more intense as stagnant preconceptions as well as automated, inflexible responses no more rule the day.

3. Compassion

Compassion opens our attention and also makes it a lot more inclusive, changing the method we view ourselves and the globe. Rather than being so caught up in the construct of self and other and also us and them that we often tend to see the globe via, we see things much extra in terms of connection to all. This fundamental makeover from alienation begins with more compassion to ourselves.

Even in methods that do not especially emphasize compassion or concern, these high qualities are inevitably being created in reflection. If we return and also consider the fundamental workout I defined, establishing focus, we locate that it is typically done by choosing a things such as the feeling of the in and out breath, then resolving our attention on it. What we uncover at first, often to our shock, is that it typically isn't 800 breaths prior to our minds wander. Much more commonly, it is one breath, maybe two or 3, after that we are lost. Possibly extremely shed in a dream or memory.

Then comes the minute we understand we have actually been distracted. Our usual reaction would certainly be to feel that we have actually failed, to rail against ourselves. Just what we practice, however, is releasing delicately rather than roughly as well as returning to the breath or our item of concentration with kindness as well as compassion for ourselves. Therefore, those high qualities of concern as well as kindness strengthen also if we do not offer voice to those words.

And what we provide for ourselves, we could likewise start to do toward others. A few years ago I got on my means to Tucson, yet my strategies were tested when I located myself in an airplane resting on a path for four and also a half hours at La Guardia Flight Terminal. Looking back on it, I often refer amusingly to those hours as "the breakdown of human being." It was hot, and also it expanded hotter. After a point, people beginning screaming, "Let me off this aircraft!" The pilot resorted to hopping on the system and also stating sternly, "No person is leaving this plane."

I had not been really feeling all that chipper myself. I could not connect with individuals in Tucson that were intended to select me up at the flight terminal, as well as I was concerned regarding them. I had a house to head to in New york city City and also maintained thinking, fruitless, "I can simply return there and also try once more tomorrow." I was warm. I really felt mauled by the people yelling around me.

Then I recalled a photo that a friend of mine, Bob Thurman, writer of Infinite Life: Seven Merits for Living Well, typically uses to define the flow of generosity and also compassion that comes from seeing the world more truthfully. He says, "Imagine you get on the New York City metro, and also these Martians come and also zap the train vehicle to ensure that those of you in the cars and truck are mosting likely to be with each other ... for life." What do we do? If somebody is hungry, we feed them. If a person is freaking out, we attempt to calm them down. We could not such as everyone or authorize of them, yet we are mosting likely to be together for life. We need to react with the knowledge of just how interrelated our lives are-- as well as will certainly remain.

Sitting on that airplane, I recalled my close friend's story. I browsed the cabin and also thought, "Perhaps these are my individuals." I saw my worldview shift from "me" as well as "them" to "we." The claustrophobia eased.

In terms of meditative understanding (as opposed to our usual mindset, which may relate to these high qualities as gifts we could do nothing to grow or as prompt psychological reactions we take pleasure in yet can't support), compassion and compassion are undoubtedly skills we establish. Not in the feeling of compeling ourselves to feel, or perhaps worse, pretend to really feel, a feeling that is not there. Instead, if we learn to listen in a various, more open means-- seeing the excellent within ourselves rather than focusing on what we do not such as, noticing those we usually neglect or look right via, releasing groups as well as assumptions when we associate with others-- we are producing the problems for generosity and also empathy to flow.

We method meditation ultimately not to come to be great meditators however to have a different life. As we deepen the skills of focus, mindfulness, as well as empathy, we locate we have less anxiety, even more satisfaction, more understanding, and also greatly much more happiness. We change our lives.