#it was graduation weekend at my school and i saw so many people i haven’t seen in a while

[badcaseofcasey]

one single thread of gold (tied me to you) | Part 3 aka: my Steddie soulmates au, Eddie's POV Part 1 | Part 2 | Steve's POV

guess who's baaaaack? Sorry for the long wait between parts, but here's part three of Eddie's POV! I'm back to working on this fic primarily, so will hopefully have the next part sooner rather than later! As always, let me know if you'd like to be added or taken off of the taglist!

As Eddie settled into life in Hawkins, he quickly realized that the universe must be playing a practical joke; there was no way in hell that Steve Harrington was his soulmate.

His assumptions that first day at Hawkins High had proven correct: Steve was popular, painfully mainstream, and had zero time or attention for anyone outside of his circle of influence. In some ways, being so utterly ignored by his soulmate hurt worse than if he’d been outright rejected. It was a reminder every day that Eddie wasn’t even significant enough in his soulmate’s life to merit rejection.

Eddie had learned how to use his outcast status to his advantage well before he’d moved to Hawkins - how to wear the mantle of “freak” like armor. He found the other outcasts and was able to use his reputation (and the fact that he supplied weed to most of the popular kids) to protect them, too.

He carved out a section of Hawkins that was his own and made just enough space there for the people he cared about. Over time, he slowly brought more and more lost sheep into the fold, founding Hellfire Club and Corroded Coffin with people he could legitimately call his best friends. It wasn’t perfect, but it was as close as someone like Eddie could ever hope to get.

Corroded Coffin’s practices were often one of Eddie’s favorite parts of his new life in Hawkins. Gareth had started at Hawkins High Eddie’s Junior year, but he saw Eddie’s Dio patch on his first day of school and was ballsy enough to approach the older teen to ask if he played any instruments. Since then, they’d added Jeff, and Freak (who was actually also named Geoff, but happily went by Freak to avoid any confusion). They were sounding more and more like an actual band these days, and they had a standing gig at the Hideout to prove it.

Of course, sometimes the peace of shredding through whatever insane guitar solo Eddie had learned or come up with that week was shattered by one of the other guys bringing high school into the mix.

“Are you guys thinking of going to the party this weekend?” Gareth asked.

“What party?” Jeff responded. “I haven’t heard of one yet.”

“Harrington’s parents are out of town again,” Gareth said. “He’s hosting; I heard Carol Perkins talking about it during Bio.”

“Probably not,” Jeff said. “My mom’s been on my ass about homework lately - she like, actually wants me to get into college, especially since my brother got denied from everywhere except Ivy Tech.”

The rest of the band nodded sympathetically. Even Eddie had Wayne on his ass to apply to college - as if they both didn’t know he’d be repeating senior year. He had way too many absences and D’s on his transcript for them to give him a diploma this time around.

“What about you, Eddie? Are you going to be there selling?” Gareth asked. “I hear Harrington’s crowd has enough money to throw around.”

Eddie strummed loudly and let the feedback echo through the garage. “I would love it if I didn't have to hear Steve Harrington’s name during band rehearsal for once.”

Gareth looked acceptably cowed by Eddie’s response, but was clearly not going to be deterred. “Come on, guys. You’ll be graduating soon and I’m going to be stuck at Hawkin’s High with Freak and zero street cred.”

“You don’t get street cred by going to parties like that,” Eddie argued.

“Okay, maybe not - but what about girls?” Gareth challenged. “You know all the girls show up hoping to hook up with Steve and when they are inevitably disappointed, they’ll be looking for a shoulder to cry on. I could be that shoulder!”

“Don’t you ever wonder if the King Steve thing is all an act?” Freak piped up. “You hear about all these girls, but do you ever really see him dating anyone? For all we know,  he and Hagan could be hooking up behind closed doors. The way they act around each other, I wouldn’t be surprised if they were the ones who were soulmates, not Tommy and Carol.”

Eddie whirled around to glare at Freak. “What are you even saying right now?”

“I’m just saying that all that bravado is there for a reason,” he said. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he was trying to cover up something.”

To this day, Eddie isn’t sure what made him do it. Maybe all the talk about Steve’s words and his sex life had gone straight to his head and stopped him from thinking straight. Maybe he’d been waiting for an excuse to do it and it seemed like as good a time as any. Or maybe, Eddie desperately needed a distraction to a different topic.

Whatever it was that made him do it, Eddie found himself saying, “Would it be so disgusting if he did get his words from a guy? Pretty ironic to be a homophobe as a guy named Freak, huh?” His tone of voice made it absolutely clear which side Eddie found himself on.

“Woah,” Freak said, holding up his hands defensively. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Really?” Eddie said. “What did you mean it like? The only reason it’d be big news if Harrington was a queer is if you have some sort of problem with it.”

“C’mon, Eddie,” Jeff said, always the peacemaker, “you know it’d be a big deal if the ladies man of Hawkins High was actually into dudes. Freak didn’t mean it like that.”

Eddie took a deep breath and blew it out forcefully. “Sorry. I got defensive.”

“No worries, man,” Freak said. “But you know I don’t have problems with people like that. Us freaks have to stick together.”

Eddie huffed out a laugh and accepted Freak’s handshake as everyone went back to their instruments. Luckily, his little outburst seemed to at least have gotten them off the topic of Steve Harrington. They messed around with a few cover songs and even got an original song or two started before Jeff had to leave to go work on homework.

As Eddie was packing up, Gareth came over, trying to come across as nonchalant but missing it by a mile.

“You know, we’d all be cool with it if… if you got your words from a guy,” Gareth said quietly.

Eddie snapped his guitar case shut and turned to look at Gareth. “Yeah, man. I know. Thanks for saying it, though.”

“Imagine if Steve Harrington was the person you got your words from though,” Gareth said. “That would be hilarious.”

Eddie just huffed out a laugh, trying not to give anything away.

Unfortunately, Gareth knew him too well.

“That would be hilarious, right?” Gareth asked, skeptical.

Eddie looked at him and raised his eyebrows, mouth stretched into a grimace.

“Oh no,” Gareth said. “No way, man.”

“Trust me, I’m just as disappointed as you are.”

“No, I mean - I’m gonna have to put up with you falling for Steve Harrington one of these days - if it hasn’t happened already - oh god, tell me it hasn’t happened already.”

“As if,” Eddie said, rolling his eyes.

“Oh good, I still have time,” Gareth said, theatrically relieved. “I need to enjoy my Harrington-free life while I’ve still got it.”

“Fuck you,” Eddie said fondly, shoving Gareth just hard enough for him to lose his balance.

As they walked out to the car, still laughing at each other’s ridiculous behavior, Eddie couldn't help but feel a little lighter. He might not have the same faith as Gareth that he and Steve would ever end up together, but it was nice to know he’d always have friends like this by his side.

taglist: @awkwardgravity1 @infinitetrashbag @vampireinthesun @swimmingbirdrunningrock @maya-custodios-dionach @thev01dd @obsessivlyme @a-little-unsteddie @anything-thats-rock-and-roll @spectrum-spectre @red-panderz69 @magpiemuseum @minjintea @finalmoondragonn @thatonebadideapanda @estrellami-1 @freyaforestafay @biatcgh @sadcanadianwinter @im-sam-fucking-winchester @bidisastersworld @justanothergirlwithobsessions @anaibis @thing-a-ling @rosered93 @newtstabber @void-o-chaos @thegingerrapunzel @baron-zemo-trash @katireads @child-of-cthulhu @the-s-is-silent @i-must-potato @hellomynameismoo @lovelylilbadone @theotalksalot @lydi-cyan @background-noise-headache @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit @slitherynchiken @grapefruitgalaxy @bookbinderbitch @luthienstormblessed @blues-tunes @murdblurdock @grtwdsmwhr @xpaperheartso @anaibis @thedyingwriter

#my fic #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve x eddie #steddie fic #steddie #soulmate au #met as kids au #Stranger Things #steddie soulmate au

[thegirlwh0bl0ckedher0wnsh0t]

Moose’s Daughter

1.“One drink is too many but a million is not enough.” These words poured out of my mother’s mouth and into my ears and while I never made sense of them in my childhood, an older and wiser me understood.

2.The number of people living in my father’s body; him, and an alcoholic. My father was clever, creative and artistic. The alcoholic was mean and tired. Both of them still took the time to slash and fry the bologna for a morning biscuit, so I didn’t mind.

3.Three young boys, older than I, watching their father. Picking up his humor, his presence, his absence, his habits.

4.The fourth valentines day of my life, he sent me roses at daycare.

5.The channels we could pick up on his TV. On his weekends I was raised on PBS Kids, Bernie Mac, and VHS tapes of McDonalds movies. 

6.He said he’s coming to pick me up and take me to get a biscuit and go fishing. I pack my Barbies and a book in my backpack. I sit on my front porch. The sun set at 6 PM. I never got my biscuit.

7.This is how old I was when he called my mom from the hospital, telling her he had been in an accident shooting at birds off his porch. I cried to him on the phone telling him he has to be more careful. He cries and agrees.

8.This Christmas he got me a pink Nintendo DS Lite. He got me the Nintendogs game I wanted. I sit next to him at breakfast and we laugh over scrambled eggs and bacon.

9.The years I had lived when I stayed the night with my grandmother. I saw his truck headlights pour into the living room. I ran outside, bare feet pounding the gravel, the moon shining through an amber bottle he held behind the steering wheel stopped me. I ran away from him for the first time.

10. A decade of trying to mend a relationship I hadn’t broken. I started calling another man “dad”. I still do. 

11. He comes over one afternoon after school. My parents aren’t home. I hide under the bed. My brother tells him to leave.

12. I don’t hear from him much this year. I sit next to him at breakfast on Christmas. We don’t speak.

13. He got a job at a BBQ joint. He brings the baked potatoes that didn’t sell. We unwrap them one by one and toss them into the hog pen. He tells me about his day.

14. My brothers go to prison.

15. I got into private school. My mom asks for help for my tuition. He said his child support should be enough. She yells. He yells. His side of the family throws me a going away party. It feels like I am his last hope of a legacy.

16. Every phone call starts off with “I haven’t drank today”. I have learned not to answer the calls after 8 PM.

17. I left private school.

18. I was the first of his kids to graduate high school. He missed it because he was in rehab.

19. He carved me a pipe out of purple heart wood for Christmas. He asks if I want a drink.

20. Every man I chase love from has the smell of rye on his breath.

21. No contact.

22. No contact.

23. No contact.

24. No contact.

25. I dry my tears long enough to walk into the ICU. There is the man who was the monster in all of my closets, chest being pumped automatically. He looks so small. The nurse asks who I am, what is my reason for visiting him. “I am his daughter.” I replied. Days later he passes. The alcoholic in him died, too. He was sober.

[diamondseaside]

besties i just had the craziest weekend je suis exhausted

#it was graduation weekend at my school and i saw so many people i haven’t seen in a while #not to mention the snoop dog concert yesterday #and then finally getting to walk across the stage 🥺🥺

[winter-soldier-vibes]

just a wittle request, could you do something where bucky comforts the reader who has mommy issues after she has a panic attack over the thought of turning out like her mother?

Hi there, sorry this took so long! I still haven’t processed my own so I had to take a few breaks. I apologize if this is off the path of what you meant, I’m going off of my own experience but I know it’s different for everyone.

You're nothing like her.

Bucky x reader

Word count: 3219

Warnings: mommy issues, toxic childhood, talk of divorce, panic attack/anxiety, negative self-talk

A/N: This takes place in a timeline where Bucky is retired

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

You did everything you could to avoid it. To avoid her

You left home as soon as you could. When you were in college you were surrounded by people who were homesick, people who wanted to go home, people who finally had to take care of themselves. Things you couldn’t relate to.

You had been supporting yourself most of your life. Not that you had much of a choice. Your dad left when you were younger, your mother blaming it on you. If you had been better, maybe he wouldn’t have left. You, being young, believed her. What else were you supposed to do, growing up in a world that preaches ‘mother knows best’?

Load of bullshit to you.

You knew better now, being an adult, that she didn’t know best. She worked or went out with friends and left you to raise yourself, telling you it was your fault when she neglected her responsibilities. And when you would get upset she would play the victim, crying ‘woe is me’ because you were so ungrateful to the person who raised you after you drove her husband out.

“You know it’s your fault right?” she had snapped at you one night at dinner. There was a graded paper, a B written on the top of it.

“What?”

“You’re the reason he left me. He just couldn’t stand you. You’re the reason why he left and why I’m so miserable now.”

You had felt tears in your eyes.

“Tears, really? Tears aren't going to change the fact that MY husband LEFT.”

Her husband, not your father.

No, you knew better now to know that what she had done and said was wrong. But that didn’t make you forget. It didn’t make it any easier for you.

You went to college, saved up as much as you could, and gave tight-lipped smiles when people asked why you didn’t go home on weekends or vacations. You tried not to talk about her much, but that didn’t stop you from thinking about her.

You had stood at your college graduation, caps thrown and loud laughs and cheers echoing around. There were a bunch of people celebrating around you, taking photos, but you had stood on the outskirts. You had a small smile on your face for everyone else, but you couldn’t help but feel empty inside. You hadn’t made many friends, not close friends, but that was a good thing. You could take the photo so no one was left out.

Not so much of a text from her. She hadn’t come, she hadn’t called or anything.

In a twisted way, you were glad that she hadn’t. She couldn’t make a big deal about how you weren’t the top of your class or how you didn’t deserve to be. How you didn’t have a job set up to start the next week even though you already were planning on submitting your resumes. There wasn’t a way to please her, so it was almost better that she wasn’t there.

You had texted her after a few days and she made up some bullshit excuse that she had forgotten to put it on the calendar.

She liked your Instagram photo though. So thoughtful

You worried you would turn out the same way. Or that she had rubbed off on you in some way. You kept to yourself as much as you could, staying in, keeping your emotions to yourself. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust people, maybe it was, but more so you were worried that you would seem like you were playing the victim.

You didn’t want to bother anyone or make anyone feel obligated to listen to you. You worried that behind your back they would complain about you being emotional or making everything about you.

You worried they would talk about you the same way you thought about your mother.

People are supposed to look to their parents to teach them what to be, yet you found yourself wanting to avoid everything your parents did to you. They taught you exactly who you didn’t want to be.

Your father left. Your mother hated you.

You didn’t share your opinions because you didn’t want to be told you were wrong. You didn’t want to force your ideas onto anyone. Not like what you said would make a difference anyway, not that it mattered in the first place.

You remembered all of the sentences you would start but not finish because no one had heard you. Trying to jump in a few times and eventually giving up when the conversation had moved onto a new subject. All the times people would interrupt or interject, making you feel like you didn’t have something to say that was worth hearing.

You thought it would get better when you got a job. But the pressure you put on yourself to do well in school was transferred to the job you had gotten. You still were afraid that people saw yourself as your mom used to and that you would never be good enough for anyone. You thought that achievements would make you feel fulfilled.

But if you didn’t believe in yourself, what were a few “job well done's” supposed to do?

It made it hard to get into a relationship. People say that “you have to love yourself before you can love someone else,” but that didn’t feel so true to you. It was more that you didn’t trust yourself to love someone else. You worried about hurting whoever you were with, and you told yourself that if you didn’t get close to anyone, you couldn’t hurt them.

But then you ran into him.

He was on a morning run and you were walking home from a night shift, both too tired to see each other coming. You because you had just finished a shift, him because he was running off the nightmare he had had the night previous. Both of you craving a sleep that seemed just out of reach.

You were very apologetic, as was he, both afraid that you had hurt the other. You avoided his eyes even though they were trained anywhere but your own, as he fiddled with his gloved hands and you scratched the back of your neck.

It was the first time either of you had seen someone as unsure as yourselves

You had parted ways with only each other's names. Bucky and y/n.

The two of you crossed paths a few times in the following weeks, eventually getting each other’s phone numbers and agreeing to meet for coffee rather than hoping the other left at the right time. Eventually, the subtle nervous tics each of you had died down as you got to know each other.

For the most part.

You still overly apologized for everything. If you were a few minutes late, if you spaced out...you took the blame for everything.

Traffic had been bad, a storm and an accident causing you to be 5 minutes late rather than 15 minutes early. You had run into the coffee shop, scanning the restaurant with wide eyes when you saw Bucky sitting there casually.

“I am so so so sorry, I should’ve left earlier, there was an accident, I’m so sorry I’m late -”

“Y/n, don’t worry about it,” he had said, a smile on his face and a slight flash of concern on his face. “Seriously, it’s a couple of minutes. It’s literally fine.”

“No, I’m really sorry, I should’ve known or called or something.”

“Relax. It’s totally fine, I promise,” he had said, concern a little more present on his face. “Are you okay though?”

“What? Yeah, I’m good. How have you been with everything?

You wouldn’t let him talk about you. The same way your mother never let you talk about yourself.

Don’t think about her.

He had started opening up to you but you still kept your personal life under lock and key. Your name, how work was, and your physical well-being was about as personal as you got. Even so, if work had been a shit show or you had to pull an all-nighter would go unspoken. He didn’t need the burden of your personal issues. Not when there was nothing he could do about it.

The past was the past, you just had to learn how to get over yourself.

You couldn’t change what your mother had said over a decade ago.

You worried if you talked about yourself at all then you would be making the situation about you. You worried you would project your anger or sadness onto him. He didn’t deserve that. Plus, it wasn’t like he would be able to do anything, right?

You promised yourself you wouldn’t let him get too close. That if he didn’t get close to you, you couldn’t hurt him.

But damn, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t start developing feelings for him. And from the way he had started acting, you thought maybe he was too.

The hugs that were ever so slightly too tight or when he smiled at you a little longer than normal. He had opened up to you about many things in his past, and from the way he talked about it, you could tell he hadn’t talked about it much with anyone else.

You found comfort in your friendship, the way he trusted you. You liked being there for him, and you were honored that he trusted you enough to open up to you. Yet it also made you uneasy that you would ruin it in some way or drive him out.

The same way your mom drove out your father.

Goddamn it don’t think about her.

The closer you got and the closer you and Bucky had gotten, the more nervous you were. That you would turn out like your mother. You were having a harder time keeping to yourself, keeping up the façade that everything was all bright in your world. You wanted to be a light for everyone.

But at some point, days turn to nights and the light gives way to the darkness.

And you weren’t sure how much time you had left before you cracked.

Bucky had started making small moves towards you, and you were trying your best to deflect them in efforts to not fall flat on your face for him. He came over Wednesday nights for a movie and take out with you, and what started as being on two opposite ends of the couch had moved to being next to each other to him having his arm wrapped around you. Sometimes you felt he was a little too close and you would either shift away or get up to grab another drink or ‘use the bathroom’.

When you came back you would make an attempt to sit a bit further away.

Sometimes when Bucky would say goodbye at the end of the night he would hug you. That was nothing new, you were both big on hugs, but lately, he had been hugging you longer or tighter, lingering a few moments longer than could be platonic. You had started ending the hugs earlier, giving him a small squeeze before pulling away.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to be with Bucky. It was that you were so scared that you would drive him away, leaving you as soon as you had started calling yourself his.

Which is what brought you here. Bucky had come over for another one of your movie nights and had his arm behind the couch rather than around you. An invitation for you to curl into his side, but he wanted you to make that choice. Eventually, you had found yourself curled up with him, his arm wrapped around you, and you could feel the tension.

You wanted to move away before you found yourself in too deep, but you couldn’t resist. It had been a long day and you found comfort with Bucky. Bucky turned his face slightly towards yours, kissing the side of your temple and you felt butterflies in your stomach. Your mind told you to shift away, to not let him get too close, but you found yourself turning your head towards Bucky and he leaned forward to kiss you gently.

After a moment you broke away, emotion taking over you. “I’m sorry, Bucky, I - I can’t do this,” you said, resting your forehead against his.

“Why not?” Bucky whispered, looking into your eyes.

Because I’ll hurt you.

I’ll disappoint you.

I’ll drive you away and I can’t lose the best thing that’s happened to me.

You sighed, standing up and moving away from Bucky. You couldn’t say those things to him out loud. Not without the entire story. And you weren’t ready to share all of that with him.

Bucky stood up with you, afraid he had just ruined the friendship or whatever relationship he had with you. “Y/n, wait, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

You had already left the room and couldn’t really hear him over the sound of your thoughts.

This wasn’t supposed to happen

I wasn’t supposed to let this happen

How could I be so stupid?

You were feeling tears in your eyes and Bucky followed you, afraid of what he did. Your breathing was picking up and you had started mumbling some of these things to yourself.

“Y/n, what’s happening, what did I do?”

You shook your head “You didn’t do anything, but I need you to leave, please,” you said, trying to hide your emotions. You hated being like this.

“I’m not going anywhere y/n, just tell me what’s wrong.”

“Get the fuck out of here Bucky! I don’t want your help!” you snapped suddenly, Bucky looking taken aback before your eyes widened.

“Oh god…”

You shook your head and started crying harder, stumbling over your words. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean it like that, I didn’t mean to yell, I’m so sorry Bucky please don’t leave I'm so sorry.”

Bucky came forward and hugged you gently and you cried into his shirt. He whispered comforting words into your ear as you tried to breathe, embarrassed at how vulnerable you were being.

Bucky kept his breathing slow and even, trying to get you to match him. He had no idea what was happening but he knew he needed you to calm down before he asked. Whatever it was had to be something deep, and you weren’t in the space to talk about it right now.

He brought you over to sit on the corner of your bed, still hugging you as you cried. You were mumbling out apology after apology but Bucky wasn’t having any of it. He kept hugging you, telling you that he wasn’t going anywhere and that you were safe. He had never seen you so upset, or upset at all to begin with.

After you had calmed down a bit, Bucky asked you again what had happened. You shook your head, not knowing what to say.

“I’ve opened up about so many things to you, right?” he pulled back to look at you.

You nodded slightly.

“And you’ve never judged me for any of it.”

You shook your head this time.

“Then why can’t you let me do the same for you?”

You took a deep breath, fiddling with your hands. “I don’t wanna hurt you,” you said, not meeting his eyes.

Bucky drew his eyebrows together, still confused. “Y/n, you’ve been the nicest person I’ve ever met. How would you hurt me?”

You were already shaking your head. “No, see, that’s what’s gonna happen. I’m gonna be nice and sweet and...and I’m gonna fall in love with you, and you’re gonna fall in love with me. A-and then I’m gonna let you down over and over again and snap at you for things that aren’t your fault and...and you’ll get sick of it and leave and I’m going to hate myself for it, okay?”

“Hey, hey, slow down,” Bucky held your shoulders as they started shaking. You brought a hand to cover your mouth, Bucky hushing you again. “What are you talking about? Where is this coming from?”

You took a shaky breath as you ran a hand over your face. “I’m just like her, Bucky. I told myself I would never let myself be like her…”

“Like who?” Bucky asked, blood already boiling at who made you feel like this.

Her.

You weren’t supposed to think about her.

You promised yourself.

“Y/n, stay with me here,” he said, guiding your face back to look at him. “Who?”

“My mother.”

Bucky looked at you for a moment. “What?”

“You know, mothers bring you into the world. They say a mother knows when something is wrong with their kid, that babies are put on their mother’s chest because the skin-to-skin contact starts the bonding process. They’re supposed to protect you, and love you, and take care of you. But then you start to get older and it’s your fault that you were born when you didn’t ask, or your dad left and it’s your fault before you even knew he was gone. All I wanted was to be told what to do and all she would do is tell me what I did wrong. I can’t be like her and the older I get the more scared I am that I’m going to hurt everyone the way that she hurt my father and me.”

You had started crying again as Bucky looked at you, both broken-hearted and furious that someone would make you feel this way. Not to mention it was your own mother.

You took another shaky breath. “I thought the world of her when I was younger. And she barely even gave me the time of day. I keep telling myself that I’m not what she thought of me, but what if I am?” you shook your head again. “And I am so scared that I’m just like her.”

“Y/n, look at me, I need you to look at me when I say this, okay?” he cupped your face with both hands, wiping away your tears with the pads of his thumbs as he looked into your eyes. “You are nothing like your mother.”

You let out a small sob. “You don’t know her.”

“I don’t need to,” he said firmly. “You are kind and gentle. You work hard and you make sure that everyone is taken care of before you even consider yourself. You aren’t going to scare me away or hurt me.” He wiped fresh tears from your eyes. “You are your own person, your mother has no say in who you get to be. Who you are. You are not your mother, and you never will be.” he said, still holding your gaze.

You held his gaze a little longer, knowing he believed what he was saying. You didn’t, not quite yet, but maybe if he believed in you, you could too. You nodded slightly, giving him the smallest of smiles. “Thank you.”

Bucky returned the small smile. “You know I love you, right?”

“I love you too,” you said, smiling.

You meant it, and you knew he did too. And maybe one day, you would love who you’d become too.

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

tags: @babydaddy-buckybarnes @buckys-blue-eyes @buckys2thicc @broadwaybabe18 @peggycarter-steverogers @im-sick-of-failing @barnesplums @bucks-bunny @mardema @abitgryffindorky @freigeistundanderes @thatfangirl42 @strawberrimae @sup--ernova

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[whorangdan]

pretty boy

part one of what i'm hoping will be a series. i decided not to split this so it is a bit lengthy, i apologize.

around 3.7k words, shy!virgin!joshua, praise kink, slight finger sucking, blowjobs, overuse of the word pretty, pretty boys being pretty, reader is shameless, joshua's a wreck, soonyoung cameo at the beginning, sorta proofread, sorry for any mistakes xx

you've always taken a liking to the pretty boy living in the apartment across yours. you've seen him around campus and had him for one of your classes so it wasn't like you were a total stranger, you two had interacted before. like the times the two of you left your apartments at the same time and awkwardly bowed your heads towards each other before the both of you went your respective ways.

you had to admit, the boy was cute. his black hair messily fanned across his forehead, and you've seen the way his eyes slip into crescent moons whenever you catch a glimpse of him smiling during class. you'd be lying if you said he didn't interest you.

deciding to get closer to the pretty boy, you approach him during class. from the short talk you had with him you found out two things. 1, his name, joshua, and 2, he was valedictorian of his graduating class in highschool.

you had given him your number, passing it off with some shitty excuse of "if any one of us ever misses class we can catch the other up, yeah?"

luckily for you joshua didn't seem to think twice about your lame excuse. he nodded, chuckling as you saved your number into his phone. you cursed your heart as you felt it flutter at his laugh. damn it.

______________________________________

the next time you saw him was at a café. he was a few people ahead of you in line. the boy picked up the hot chocolate he ordered and made his way to a table in the corner. cute. your thoughts were interrupted when someone behind you coughed, signalling for you to order. embarrassed, you mutter an apology and quickly order your drink to catch up to him.

"hi joshua! is it alright if i sit here?" you asked warily, slightly afraid he would say no. but of course, this was joshua hong.

he nodded, "of course. i was going to get in some extra studying before my next class but this is okay as well!"

"oh shit i'm so sorry. i could leave if you'd like?"

joshua brushes it off, "oh no you're fine, i've prepared enough, really!" he returns the smile you pass him and you feel your heart soar.

the rest of your time at the café is filled with mindless chattering of the project your professor assigned, the upcoming exam for your class, and joshua's work habits. you learn he loves being involved on campus, joining clubs and helping out when he can. you also learn he doesn't really take many breaks from school, instead opting to head to his apartment right after work.

"you really don't go out? not even by yourself?" you wonder, curious to how he even survives. junior year of college isn't the easiest. joshua blushes, not wanting to seem like a complete loser.

"well...i..i go to the shops a lot? to get food and stuff...and i go to the park a lot too? when i want to relax..." he trails off, not being able to think of anything else. his cheeks are red and he's shuffling nervously, awaiting your reply.

you simply smile. "that's cute, joshua. is it enough for you though? like, is it ever enough to feel completely free? sometimes it's good to forget about school, you know. there's a lot more to college than grades and studying," you tell him, sipping your drink. "not that it's a bad thing to focus on that stuff, of course." you add, not wanting to make him feel bad.

"i-i mean yeah..." he chews on his lip. "i'm kind of used to it all, i've been like this since highschool. sometimes it does become too much but there isn't really anything i can do about it." he finishes. you hum, impressed by his work ethic but also feeling pity for the poor boy.

"if it works then it works, nothing wrong with that. how about work?" you play with the straw in your drink.

"i work here, actually. it's not the most money, but it's enough for me to buy what i need, with a few dollars extra to buy miscellaneous items." he replies and as if on cue, an employee from the cafe strolls up to your table.

"hey, josh! you working later today?" the boy, who you recognize as soonyoung from one of your classes, wipes the table next to yours with a rag.

joshua nods, "after class, yes." soonyoung looks to you, stopping his cleaning.

"oh, hey y/n! i didn't know you knew joshua. small world, isn't it?" soonyoung laughs at his own comment.

joshua looks between the two of you, his brows furrowing. "you two know each other?"

"i have him for physics," you say at the same time soonyoung says, "i have her for physics!" the both of you stare at each other before soonyoung laughs and walks away, muttering something about how the world works in crazy ways.

you look over at joshua and he shrugs, sipping on his hot chocolate. you end up walking out of the café until the two of you need to part ways.

"see you in class, y/n!" joshua walks off hurriedly and you watch as the bunny keychain on his bag bounces with each step.

__________________________________

the two of you seemed to click together instantly and spent more time together than you first thought you would. you had a habit of going out together on the weekends and although at first it took an embarrassingly long time convincing joshua that it was okay to actually leave campus, now it's something he suggests himself. and it wasn't rare for joshua to spend the night over at your place, usually when the two of you are staying up late studying, but there are also times when joshua invites himself over, claiming he can't sleep. you don't understand how you help with that, especially since he sleeps on your couch on those nights but hey, you could never say no to him. you have been to his place before but most of your time together is spent at your place, seeing as you always have a full fridge.

of course with all positives come a negative, and you find your feelings for the pretty boy have become increasingly harder to ignore. through your time with him you've also learned he's incredibly fun to tease. the boy flushes at the mere mention of sex and doesn't seem to have any idea of even the basics. of course you aren't stupid and know very well what that means but joshua's always quick to shut any idea of him being a virgin down.

"i have done stuff before, y/n! i p-promise!" though the way he shuffles on his couch screams otherwise.

you chuckle. "i believe you, joshua, i swear. it's just fun to tease you like this. you become a blushing mess and it makes me want to ruin you." you tease, not really realizing the impact of your words until you notice joshua's cheeks flare up.

"...wh-what—what did you say?" joshua stutters, not daring to look up from where he's staring down at his hands.

"i was joking, shua! i wouldn't do anything to you if you didn't want me to." you laugh. hearing that makes joshua flush even more, your choice of words causing him to believe you want to do things to him.

"a-and...and if i wanted you to?" he admits after a couple minutes of silence. sighing, you take his shaking hand into yours.

"then i would do anything you'd ask. so long as you're okay with it." you shrug. joshua's mind is spinning, jealous at how you could be so casual with this while he was shaking like a leaf. it wasn't fair.

joshua slowly lifts his head and looks you in the eye, a look of determination settled on his face. "i want you to," his shaky voice betrays him and you smile fondly, reaching a hand up to stroke his cheek. "to ruin me." he finishes.

"you're so cute, joshua. really, you are. have you ever kissed anyone, pretty?" the new nickname has joshua almost whimpering, not used to this kind of attention.

he shakes his head, "n-no...i haven't really...done anything...with anyone..." his head drops in shame.

you lift his head to look at you, staring into his eyes. "there's nothing to be ashamed of, pretty. i'll take care of you, if you allow me to." your words have him shuddering and he nods, so desperate already.

"i need words, joshua." he swears he almost moans then, biting his lip and managing to form a shaky yes.

dragging your hand to his neck you pull him in for a kiss. his lips slot against yours and you can tell he's nervous by the way his fingers tap against his thigh. you intertwine your other hand with his in hopes of calming his nerves. luckily it seems to work, his kisses becoming less shaky.

as the kisses become hotter and more desperate you pull away and he whines, chasing your lips.

"it's okay, baby. just a little change of position." you drag his thighs to pull him into your lap and he yelps, hands coming up to grip your shoulders. joshua flushes as the nickname and the closeness of you two hits him simultaneously.

"is this alright, pretty?" you hum, bouncing your intertwined hands on his thigh. joshua opens his mouth to answer but his breath gets caught in his throat and you laugh. he's so unbelievably precious. joshua nervously smiles at you.

you pull him in for a kiss again, your hand going up to his hair. deciding to experiment a bit you tug at his strands lightly and he moans into your mouth. pleased, you pull his hips closer to you. you detach from his lips and kiss down his jaw and neck. little whimpers leave joshua's lips and you see him bite his lips as if to muffle his noises.

"uh-uh don't hide your noises from me, pretty boy." your thumb reaches up to tug his bottom lip out from under his teeth. joshua nods and you take the time to examine how gorgeous he looks right now. his lips are swollen from the kissing and biting, black hair messier than you could ever imagine, and a blush lays prettily on his cheeks all the way down to his collarbones peeking out from his shirt.

his eyes are glazed over with desire and need. when he looks down at your thumb you get an idea. hesitantly, as if to just test the waters, you poke at his lips with your thumb, circling his mouth. as if reading your mind, he slowly opens his mouth, allowing you to slip your thumb between his lips.

"suck." you order, the rest of your fingers curling around his jaw. joshua obeys, his tongue and mouth working together to engulf your thumb. his head bobs and when you apply more pressure to his tongue his eyes slip shut, a cute whimper leaving him.

"oh, you like that? sucking on my fingers like this? of course you do. does it make you feel good?" joshua's moaning at your words, his hips beginning to lightly rub against yours. you chuckle at his pathetic attempts to pleasure himself.

"already so needy? i haven't even touched you and you're already so hard." he whines against your thumb. taking your thumb out of his mouth you pull him into another kiss, basking in the way he moans into your mouth.

"let's head to your room, yeah? your first time shouldn't be on a couch." you tap his thigh and he shuffles off your lap, taking your hand and leading you to his room. walking in you realize you've never been here before, and suddenly you're reminded of who it is you're doing this with.

his room is very clean and neatly organized. you take a second to look around, taking it all in. his desk is filled with random school stuff and you catch a glimpse of his assignment from your guys' class. on his dresser you see cute little houseplants, some random bottles you assume to be colognes and perfumes, and what looks to be a projector.

"what's this?" you gesture to it, walking closer to examine it properly.

"it's a...it's a star projector...when you turn it on it lights up and fills the room with little stars...i like turning it on when i can't sleep..." joshua nervously mumbles, scared you might find it childish. instead, you smile and you feel your heart melt. god how much cuter can he get.

turning around you see joshua sitting on the edge of the full sized bed in the middle of the room. he stares up at you and you notice the way his eyes are still glossy, and when you see the tent in his pants you remember what you're here for. dragging him into a kiss you push him into the mattress and he moans against your lips.

you hold yourself up with one hand and reach the other around to tug at his hair, using his moan as an opportunity to slip your tongue into his mouth. grinding down on his clothed crotch he whines pathetically into your mouth.

you pull away and rest your forehead against his to catch your breath.

"...please..." joshua begs, unsure of what he's asking for himself.

"what do you want, joshua? tell me what you want, pretty." you grind against him once more and he whimpers needily.

"i don't...i don't know..." his cheeks flare up and you're reminded he has absolutely no experience whatsoever.

"that's okay, baby. i'll help you. it's all about you today, so tell me what you want. we don't have to do anything you don't want to, you can say no at anytime." you reassure him, sensing how nervous he is. kissing his cheek you pull away, sitting against the head board. he makes his way into your lap and let's his head fall onto your shoulder.

"i don't think i'm completely ready for it yet...i'm sorry y/n..." he trails off and you swear you hear him sniffle. your hand reaches up to card your fingers through his hair, pulling him away from your shoulder to face you.

"hey, listen, shua. don't apologize. at all. it's okay. look at me," his eyes are still focused on your shoulder, not wanting to meet your gaze. he shifts his eyes to your face and you can see how desperate he is and how his eyes are laced with worry. "we don't have to do anything you don't want to."

he nods and you kiss his nose, then his cheeks, and forehead, and nose again until you're littering tiny pecks all over his face and he's smiling again. you kiss him again, more innocent this time, and you try to convey your feelings for him through this kiss, letting him know you care for him regardless of whether you two have sex or not. you can tell the message gets through to him by the way he shyly looks down when you pull away.

the scene would look incredibly awkward to anyone else. joshua's sitting in your lap, head on your shoulder, with you gazing down at him warmly. the mood is most certainly not matching the hard on in joshua's sweatpants. but you found it all the more endearing, and you weren't going to make anymore advances unless he wanted it.

joshua is reminded of the problem in his pants and he flushes once more. he may not be ready for the real deal, but he certainly wants to get off tonight. slowly, he grinds his hips. you don't even notice he's doing it until his breath hitches and he grips onto your arms for leverage, quickening his pace.

"..a-ah...i'm sorry...im just–" he's cut off with a moan and you nod at him, signalling you understand.

"i know, baby, i know. do you want a little help?" he nods furiously. you guide his hips a bit more, thrusting up to meet his moves. the friction has joshua's eyes rolling back, not used to such sensations.

"do you want to get off on my thigh, pretty? or do you want more? what more can i do hmm..?" you hum, stroking joshua's hair as he keeps up his movements.

he shakes his head, "help me, please. please help me—touch me please." joshua reluctantly slows his thrusts, staring up at you with his pretty eyes. smiling, you nod. grabbing his wrists you change your positions, now hovering over him.

you kiss down his neck, nipping and sucking at the skin. joshua melts into the mattress, his hands gripping the sheets. you play with the bottom of his shirt, looking up at him. he nods, lifting his arms to allow you to slip the shirt over his head.

you take a minute to admire his body. his torso is slim and his skin is even, small moles littering his skin here and there. he's so gorgeous, you think. you let your eyes wander up to his neck, hickeys beginning to bloom, a pretty contrast with his fair skin. you're interrupted from your thoughts when joshua makes a noise of embarrassment, hands coming up to cover his blushing face.

"don't hide from me, joshua. you're beautiful." you coax, grabbing his wrists to lower his hands. you smirk at the way he whines at the praise.

"th-thank you..." you stroke his cheek before continuing your way down his torso to his waistband. you thumb at his pants and he lifts his hips, allowing you to slip the sweats off his legs.

joshua's face is burning up, not used to being so exposed. you're settled between his legs, hovering over the pretty boy.

"you look so pretty like this, shua. such a pretty boy you are." joshua whimpers, your words of praise going straight to his cock. you litter a few more kisses on his torso, going lower until you reach his boxers. you give open mouthed kisses to his length, the dark patch by his tip spreading the more you toy with him. moaning, joshua thrusts up against your mouth.

"no no, pretty. patience. i'll take care of you i promise. good boys wait patiently, and you're a good boy, right joshua? you'll be a good boy for me?" you tease, removing his boxers completely.

joshua nods desperately. "y-yes...i'm a good boy...your good boy..." he whines at his own words, the praise becoming too much. his neglected cock lays against his stomach, precum leaking over the tip and onto his belly. the hair down there is neatly trimmed and for whatever reason that makes you smile. cute.

"of course you are, joshua. my beautiful good boy. waiting so patiently." his hands are moving about, not sure where to put them as he tries his hardest not to grind his hips up. grabbing his wrists you hold them above his head, pressing a kiss to his forehead while you're there. "keep these up here, don't move. you can do that right?" joshua whimpers, nodding.

letting go of his wrists you turn your attention back to his cock. giving kitten licks to the head you glance up, taking in all of joshua's needy noises and using that to motivate you. you leave little kisses on the head before you take him into your mouth, joshua's hips jolting in response.

taking his entire length in your mouth was quite easy, not that he was small or anything, but he wasn't the biggest either. joshua's moans spill out of his mouth, hips slightly bucking before you rest a hand on his hips, stilling his body on the bed. your tongue circles his tip while your other hand works on the rest of his length. the extra attention to his sensitive head has joshua whining, breath catching in his throat when you lick over his slit.

"feels good—oh god—feels so good..." you pull off his cock, your hand still stroking him. you notice the way his hands are still right where you told him to keep them, his eyes shut in bliss as your hand works to pleasure him. you find yourself smiling at how obedient he is.

his legs wrap around your waist, bringing you closer to him. leaning down you suck more marks onto his skin. joshua's moans are higher now, and with the way his hips are sloppily thrusting into your hand you're certain he's close.

"are you close, shua?" nodding, he opens his eyes to meet yours. "good boys ask for permission." your wrist works faster, thumb rubbing his slit.

"please...can i please...y-y/n...please can i cum..." he twitches against you, desperate for release. you jerk your wrist and joshua thrashes his head against the pillows, his thighs shaking with pleasure. you lean down to press soft kisses to his inner thighs, sucking marks onto the smooth skin.

"yes pretty boy, you can. cum for me, joshua." his back arches off the bed, streaks of cum coating his torso and your hand. you pull off when he's writhing from overstimulation, hands gripping the pillow above his head.

cute whimpers leave his lips when you clean him up, the post orgasm aftershocks combined with your gentle touches have him on cloud nine. joshua's eyes are closed, sweaty hair stuck to his forehead. as gently as you can you pull him into your lap, being mindful of how sensitive he still is.

you stroke his hair out of his forehead, caressing his cheeks while he comes down from his high.

"hello, pretty boy. you did so good for me, shua. you were wonderful." you coo when he opens his eyes, his lips turning upwards at your words. joshua opens his mouth to say something but he coughs last minute, throat scratchy from all his moaning.

"oh i'm sorry, pretty. here, drink up." you press a water bottle against his lips, guiding him. when he's had enough he pulls away, head immediately dropping back on your chest.

"how was it? did you enjoy it?" you question, intertwining your hand with his.

"it was good...thank you y/n." he smiles up at you, squeezing your hand. you return the smile, rubbing his back and coaxing him to rest. joshua's eyes shut and he drifts off to sleep.

sighing softly you shift your positions so joshua's laying next to you. he hugs your waist in his sleep, cuddling you closer to him and you wrap your hands around his naked waist. bringing the sheets up to cover the both of you, you let yourself rest as well.

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#sub seventeen #sub svt #sub joshua hong #sub!svt #sub!seventeen #sub!joshua #sub joshua #sub seventeen smut #dom reader #sub idol

[1kook]

kissanime & foreplay

this is part of my netflix & chill collection !

summary; You get a glimpse of the KissAnime screen for a good two seconds before about seven ads pop up. Another tab to a raunchy hentai website opens, and Jungkook groans. warnings; mentions of hentai yes u read right, kook leads most of it, cunnilingus, masturbation (f), oral (f), use of a sex toy, fingering, nipple play, face sitting/fucking/riding idk (f), praise kink, hints of dumbification, cum eating, jk is like passive aggressive in this one, 4 (f) orgasms, this is the kicker: sub kook at the end😳, like 2 sec of dom yn lol, & u get 0.002 sec of adams apple kink misc; more dumb story lines, made up sex stores bc my creativity knows no bounds, Jungkook plays nice but is actually mean for the majority of it, once again doyeon plays a pivotal role in the furthering of women empowerment, internal love monologues about jk best boy<3 wc; 8.2k

notes; back when kissanime was offed I remember looking at this fic in the drafts like what the hell we gone do now.. n almost deleting it but I was like yknow what this isn’t a 1kook fic unless there’s smthn weird going on so here we are. also yes I know ohshc is on Netflix shut up!!!!! 

HAPPY BDAY MY LOVE AND MUSE JEON JUNGKOOK !!!! 🥺💜

—

The good thing about getting your own apartment is that you finally have a place to call your own. There’s no limit on how many potted plants you can squeeze into a one bedroom, one bathroom apartment, and if there was one, you’re twelve in and no one has said anything to you yet. You don’t have to share the shower space with anyone, label all your products with a hastily scribbled name. There’s a bathtub—something you haven’t had the pleasure of using during college—and a fairly open living space. There’s so many empty spots to fill with useless decorations and family heirlooms and that ugly plastic rooster Jungkook won you at the summer kick-off fair last month.

The bad thing about having your own place is that the entire world and their mothers seem to know now. Despite graduating from college, you still keep in touch with your trusted graduate mentor Kim Namjoon, who is still very much in school, and has made it his mission to bring you a new plant every week, hence your growing collection. Your childhood friend comes over every Saturday morning to lounge around after her Friday nights out. Jungkook, although the only one who is ever actually invited, runs through your strawberry scented body wash like a madman.

And of course, Doyeon.

Your beloved college roommate of four years, Kim Doyeon, has been the bane of your apartment experience so far. Unlike you, who had slaved away for four years, saving every penny you made during college for this moment, Doyeon was a big spender. She blew every dollar she ever came across, which is why she’s going to be stuck living at her parent’s house for at least a couple more years.

Nothing wrong with that, of course, if she wasn’t the most maniac online shopper in existence. It hadn’t been a problem in college because she was always good old pals with the students who worked the mailroom. If they saw something questionable, they’d let it slide as long as it was under Miss Kim Doyeon, Room 229.

The reason it became an issue for her now is because it’s poor Mrs. Kim who signs over the package from Sexuality Unleashed: The Best Toys Worldwide! one Tuesday afternoon as it is delivered to their suburban home.

So now she’s taken to ordering all her freaky stuff to your new apartment, where the small cabinet by the door has quickly become home to her impulsive shopping habits. Truthfully, you don’t mind accepting Doyeon’s weird packages, and have long since grown used to the uncomfortable looks the mail carrier gives you.

Jungkook’s supposed to come over today and you really hope he doesn’t ask about the state of your hall cabinet. Now that you work at a small company outside of your degree to make ends meet, time with Jungkook has been significantly decreased. You weren’t in college anymore, so you didn’t have the luxury of dropping by his house whenever you wanted to in between classes. Of course, it’s mostly your schedule that conflicts with your planned hangouts, because Jungkook is still working his dream job from home.

However, because Jungkook is quite possibly the most amazing person on this planet, he’s started coming over every Saturday night to make sure you’re still alive and not dying. And so weekly media binges are a thing, and it’s currently week four.

He gave up on showing you the Marvel movie franchise last week, after you had asked where Wonder Woman was three times in a row. Since the Barbie Movie Debacle of last month, you’ve found a nice medium between who picks when. Jungkook picks most of the time, because most of the time you don’t really care. It’s become a running joke between the two of you that movie binges are usually just terribly masked excuses to go to town on each other, so you don’t mind missing an entire 15th Century French Revolution documentary if it means Jungkook is deep in your guts by the time King Louis XIV gets beheaded or whatever they did to him. Is it too obvious you didn’t watch the documentary?

Occasionally, there are instances where one of you genuinely does want to watch something, in which case you have an intense match of rock-paper-scissors to decide who’s picking that night. Most of the time, Jungkook wins. But for every match Jungkook wins, he promises you’ll pick the next one so you’ve long since stopped trying to actually beat him.

Long story short, last weekend you sat through a two part Ancient Aliens episode on the connection between aliens and American presidents.

It was the most god-awful conspiracy theory you’ve ever heard of, but Jungkook ate up every minute of it. By the time the two hosts announced their conclusion you were just about ready to rip your own ears off and single-handedly fist fight every producer on the channel for allowing the production of such an atrocious show.

Anyway, because you had so bravely sat through the entire evening without complaints— well, no complaints towards Jungkook’s terrible taste; the show, however, was not safe from your wicked tongue —Jungkook has so graciously allowed you to pick the media for this weekend.

You’ve been telling him for the longest time that you were going to hook him on anime. It was one of the few interests you always believed Jungkook should possess, being a weeb and all, because it was only fair that he had one questionable trait to balance out the rest of his perfection. Liking anime isn’t bad— if a hottie like you enjoyed it, then it obviously had its perks. However, you know a lot of other people are turned off by anime-enthusiasts due to preconceived notions of the genre and the viewer-base.

Now, it was a widely known fact that you always had ulterior motives. So maybe turning Jungkook into a weeb was just a ploy to turn other women off from him and keep your jealousy at bay. Sue you, your boyfriend was a walking wet dream, and you’d do anything to keep him to yourself.

After long deliberation, you’ve decided on introducing Jungkook to anime with a classic: Ouran High School Host Club, a god among anime, a true Beyonce among shoujos. The only problem was that you absolutely refused to pay Crunchyroll or Funimation when you could so easily find the entire show on KissAnime.com, home to only the finest of hentai ads and Are You a Robot? questions.

He sends you a text when he’s outside your building, and five minutes later there’s a rap against your door.

“Hi,” you smile up at him, heart fluttering in that same trademark way it did whenever Jungkook was within a five foot radius. He smiles back softly, leaning down to peck your lips as you step aside for him to enter. He’s got on those cotton sweats that you love, the ones that send your brain into a censored frenzy. But he’s also got that soft curl to his hair that lets you know he came here straight out of the shower in his hurry to see you. How you managed to bag a dream boyfriend like him was beyond you.

You bask in the overwhelming feeling of unannounced love for all of ten seconds before Jungkook is lifting up a square package you hadn’t seen at his hip. “Mailman gave me this,” he says, waving around the signature bright pink packaging of Sexuality Unleashed. Jungkook, for all his politeness and respect, seemed to falter in those categories when it came to you. He turns the box over, reading the big fat name of the company on the side. “Since when did you start buying sex toys?” he asks rather loudly in the hallway.

You yank him inside, hurriedly slamming the door shut before any of your neighbors can come out into the hallway and get a peek of this avid sex toy consumer. “They’re not mine!” you hiss, standing still when he uses you to balance himself as he tugs off his shoes. You snatch the box out of his hands, turning it around to make sure it is actually addressed to your home. Sure enough, it’s for you. Couldn’t there have been some other sex toy fanatic on this floor?

With his shoes off, Jungkook wastes no time enveloping you in a hug, the Sexuality Unleashed box tumbling to the ground. “It’s okay, baby, no need to be embarrassed.”

You groan, leaning your forehead against his shoulder as he continues to pat your back like you’re actually embarrassed to be caught buying toys— you’re not. You’re embarrassed he caught you with a sex toy you simply can’t put to use. “Whatever,” you sigh, “your gross popcorn is in my bedroom and it’s probably stale.”

He releases you, not before pulling you into a slow and languid kiss that has you clutching tightly at the front of his shirt. He pulls away with a soft smooch, right eye falling into a wink. “Bring the box, gorgeous,” he teases, before sauntering off in the direction of your bedroom.

You groan loudly. “It’s not mine!” you repeat, but for some reason do as he says.

Not only do you have no idea what’s in this package, but you’re frankly not too keen on finding out. You’re more interested in Jungkook’s reaction to one of your favorite animes of all time. The package is tossed onto the end of the bed, where Jungkook has already stripped himself of his socks and cuddled beneath your covers.

Your laptop has gone dark from inactivity so you slam down on the space bar to bring it back to life. Your first mistake was pressing anything at all. It flickers back on alright, but you forget that you are working with a minefield of ads ready to explode. You get a glimpse of the KissAnime screen for a good two seconds before about seven ads pop up. Another tab to a raunchy hentai website opens, and Jungkook groans.

“What the hell is this?” he asks in a tone that screams he has never had to fight viruses off his computer just to watch something at two in the morning.

You ignore him, cuddling into his side as you hurriedly type in the title of the anime before another annoying ad can intercept you. “KissAnime,” you answer for now, accidentally clicking down on the mousepad with the heel of your palm. Another tab opens up to some sketchy credit site. You huff.

“Baby, I swear I just saw like twelve viruses,” he says. “And what even are these?” he scoffs, jabbing a finger at one of the many ads that lines the perimeter of the website. “Animated teacher porn?”

By the grace of god, you somehow manage to get onto the episode selection screen without having another tab open on you. You smile in relief, turning the power of your excitement onto Jungkook… only to find his eyes narrowed in on the square advertisement for some hentai website. “What? You wanna watch hentai now?” you snort, placing the laptop on his legs as you cuddle into his side.

Jungkook sputters, cheeks tinting red at the mere insinuation he would ever consume such media. “No,” he glares, releasing the arm around your shoulders to huffily cross them over his chest. “I am not going to watch anatomically incorrect illustrations of a woman teacher relieving herself, ___,” he says rather matter-of-factly.

You snort, repeating, “a woman teacher,” mockingly and in a high pitched voice that, honestly, doesn't sound anything like him. You click play on the video box that appears after only about twenty more pop-up ads. “Silence, you nymphomaniac, the episode is starting.” Jungkook pulls you close with a displeased expression, finally quieting down when you put it on full screen and the ads disappear from his view.

You’re beginning to wonder if Jungkook really is the script and plot dissector he claims to be, or if he just lives to get under your skin. He doesn’t make it three minutes without finding something to critique. First it’s the quality of the frames, and then it’s the characterization of the lead character. He nitpicks everything about the best anime in existence, and by the end of the first episode you’re considering breaking up with him.

“Oh my god,” you groan, tearing yourself away from him. He’s all laid up against your mountain of pillows, tongue prodding at the insides of his mouth in that ridiculously attractive habit of his. Usually, you’d be tripping over yourself to kiss him, but you’re about two seconds from ripping his head off. “I mean this in the nicest way possible, baby,” you sigh, picking up his hand in yours. “You gotta shut up.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “I have to shut up?” he asks in a scandalized tone. “You sang through the entire intro, off tune may I add.”

At this rate you’re getting nowhere, so you just snatch the laptop back up before you actually hurt his feelings. You escape the full screen, met with those hentai ads that are slowly becoming the bane of Jungkook’s existence.

“Who actually watches those anyway?” he mumbles, covering the sidebar full of naked cartoon ladies with his palm for you, a real gentleman if you ever saw one. “Really?” he says, knocking his pointer finger against a particularly raunchy ad with the caption Be a Good Boy and Let her Play beneath it.

You snort. “You are such a baby,” you tease, pinching his cheek much to his annoyance. “What? Can’t handle seeing some anime titties?”

Jungkook shoves your hand away, leaning back to become one with the pillows as you continue onto the next episode. “They’re just weird,” he admits. “And make unrealistic faces.”

“Unrealistic,” you repeat, finally giving one of the ads the time of day. There’s an adorably drawn character making the most perverted expression, knees hiked up to her chest. Her face is twisted up, drooling like a dog and with her eyes crossed in ecstasy. You shrug. “Just because you can’t get those faces out of me doesn’t mean they’re unreal.”

The second the words leave your mouth Jungkook is letting out a scandalized scoff, sitting up to level you with another glare. “First of all, I can get you like that,” he defends, tapping his finger against the ad on screen. “In fact, I can get you like that without even trying, so let’s not say anything too drastic now, okay?”

His sudden bout of defensiveness makes something playful in you switch on, laying back down beside him with a smirk. “Oh, you can make me all stupid like this?”

Jungkook scoffs. “Yes.”

“Uh huh,” you drawl, tracing a finger up his chest teasingly; Jungkook knocks your knuckles away, obviously still butt hurt about your comment. That’s fine, because a slightly riled up Jungkook was always the best Jungkook. You sit up and lean in close, letting your hand slip beneath his hoodie, palm running over his bare shoulder and around the top of his back. You give his nape a light squeeze, lips pressed against the shell of his ear. “Why don’t you prove it to me, Jungkookie?” you purr, before pulling away.

His jaw twitches at the nickname, one shapely brow unconsciously arching as he regards you with a calculative expression.

The thing about Jungkook was that, after almost a year of dating, you know just how to push his buttons. He has a rather calm and collected exterior to him, the same one he’s had since the day you met him, but beneath it all was a childish competitiveness that raged with the heat of ten suns. He disliked being taunted like you were doing now, especially when his credibility was at stake.

Honestly speaking, you don’t doubt Jungkook can make you look as goofy and messy as those hentai ads. In fact you’re rather confident he can. Either way, him being right or you being right, you would still get some fun out of it.

“Hm?” you add, tracing your hand up to dance over the skin of his cheek, pads of your fingers running over that stiff jaw. “Are you scared I’m right and you’re wrong?”

A hand snaps up to catch your wrist, fingers tight around your skin until you’re shivering against him. “Oh baby, I can make you cum until you cry,” he murmurs, his usual sweet and lilting tone dropping to a low vibration that makes your pussy throb beneath your panties. Your heart leaps in your chest, lips falling open when he ducks down to brush them against yours. It’s too light, just a simple touch that makes you follow his mouth when he pulls back.

With one firm shove, the laptop is tumbling off the bed, thudding loudly against your bedside rug. Jungkook leans over you, his usual trademark doe eyes zeroed in on you with the focus of a laser. “Have a little faith in me,” he teases, and when he presses close you can feel his fattening cock flush against your thigh. Your body is begging to be touched, every brush of his fingers against your skin searing trails in their wake.

Suddenly, he’s drawing back. “Kook?” you frown, barely biting down on a childish whimper when he snuggles back into your mountain of pillows, one arm stretched behind his head.

He flashes you a smile. “Go on,” he says, arms behind his head. “Show me how to get you like that.”

“By myself?” you ask, shifting onto your knees anyway. Jungkook nods, a soft jut of his chin as he gives you another one of those easy going smiles of his. His goal seems a little unclear, but you had a ridiculous amount of trust in your boyfriend that whatever he had planned was certain to be good. With one final skeptical glance his way, you sink down onto your bum, knees spreading and giving him a clear view of your little pink boy shorts, elastic band hugging your waist.

The material of your t-shirt is guided away, held to your chest by the hand currently not traversing the length of your stomach, gliding across soft skin, over your belly button and past that band until it slips beneath. You chance another look Jungkook’s way, only to find his eyes wonderfully downcast in the direction of your core. That smile is gone now, replaced with a somber look as he watches your hand move mysteriously beneath the fabric of your undergarments.

The first brush of your forefinger against your swollen button makes you twitch, back arching at the sensation that is magnified by his watchful gaze. “Mmh,” you bite down, hand twisting in the material of your shirt. Jungkook’s eyes glare a molten path across your skin, from the comfy bra that peeks out from beneath your rumpled shirt to the wrist slowly working beneath your panties.

A hand falls over your thigh, tattooed fingers giving the skin a light squeeze as you get to work swirling your bud around. The sight of his inked skin on yours makes something warm blossom in your lower abdomen, your eyes following the inky swirls up, up, up. They lead you to the face of your very handsome boyfriend, long lashes fanning across his cheekbones as he watches you play with yourself. “Wanna take these off for me?” he says, the tip of his pointer finger wiggling beneath the fabric of your shorts.

You nod hurriedly, wiggling around on the bed until you’re on your back, legs bent in front of you. The shorts come down your legs; the simplest press of your thighs makes something quiver in your abdomen. You toss them off to the side, and just as you go to sit back up, Jungkook places a hand on your knee. “Stay like this for me,” he says, sitting up from his mountain of pillows to glance down at you. You melt into the plush mattress beneath you, staring down at him between your legs. He’s got that adoring look in his eyes, the one that makes you feel so warm and in love, it’s only natural your hand slips down to play with your bare clit again. “That’s my girl,” he smiles, rubbing a hand down the outside of your thigh, urging your legs to fall open.

There’s this overflowing vat of arousal that builds up inside of you everytime Jungkook is around, like the moment your eyes land on him you’re reminded of every position he’s ever had you in. You remember the soft brush of his hands on your body, the way his lips feel on yours, the soft tickle of his hair when he gets too close. It makes your heart lurch in your chest, like if you don’t grab onto him tightly this feeling will slip through your fingers and out of your life. So you were crazily in love with your boyfriend— now what?

A puckered set of lips meets the inside of your thigh, the action ripping you from your overly gooey, overly soft inner rambling. Your hand trails down your quivering pussy lips, collecting your dripping wetness as you go. At the same time, Jungkook kisses down the inside of your thigh, soft smacks of his lips against your skin filling the air with an emotion that makes you bite down a whimper. Your hole puckers at the brush of your fingers, anticipating an entrance that you yearn to give into soon.

His mouth is on you before your finger can go deeper than a centimeter in. But Jungkook doesn’t brush your hand off, doesn’t shove you away to prove his mouth was undoubtedly better. He places a kiss over your knuckles, before swallowing up your significantly smaller hand with his, that of which he clasps together over your navel.

You groan, head rolling from side to side. “Don’t be so soft with me,” you whine, leg twitching when he presses a kiss against your engorged bundle of nerves. “Push me around like that one time, you know I like it.”

Jungkook grins, mouthing over your clit with practiced ease that has you releasing all kinds of whimpers and sighs. He’s got his other hand wrapped around your thigh, strong arm pulling you closer to that devious mouth and tongue that lavished attention on your clit. “Need me to be mean to you, baby?” he purrs, curling his tongue in such a way that it makes your entire body tense up, muscles pulled tight. “Want me to push you around like the stupid little girl you are?” You moan, head bobbing up and down at the ideas he stuffs in your mind. As he moves down the length of your cunt, that round nose you love brushes against your bud, and the cheeky shit takes an obnoxiously loud sniff of it, a soft groan breathed against your lower lips. “But isn’t this better?” he hums, languidly molding his lips against your lower ones, much in the same way he does with the ones on your face; he moves slowly, slips his tongue in every few seconds before eventually diving in head on. “Slow... and so easy.”

“Kook,” you mewl, getting this overwhelming urge to cover your face with your hands. But you can’t, because he’s knotted one hand with yours and his fingers only tighten when you try to yank them apart. Instead you’re left pressing one knuckle against your mouth, brows pinching as he begins slowly fucking his tongue into your cunt. “F-Faster,” you beg. He, of course, ignores your plea.

The wet mass moves past the clenched muscles around your hole, nose brushing against your lips with every intrusion. Every few cycles he stops to press a kiss against your pussy, so hard and wet that it hurts when he pulls off. You’re left writhing and moaning, your heel knocking against his shoulder when he pushes your leg up closer to your chest. “It’s enough,” you cry, your entire body shivering.

Jungkook pulls off with a loud pop, lips glistening with your arousal. He’s got this glint on his eyes, like he’s thoroughly entertained by your reactions. He shuffles around to get comfortable, finally releasing that grip on your hand. Immediately, your newly freed hand jumps forward to tangle in the hair above his ear, tracing down the delicate curve of his cheekbone. Jungkook turns his head, pressing a soft peck against your open palm that makes your heartbeat thunder in your ears.

As he moves around, his leg bumps against something that has both of you pausing. It sounds out of place next to your shallow breaths, and both of you glance down only to catch sight of that stupid package from Sexuality Unleashed teetering on the edge of the bed.

The moment you see it, it’s like you’re transported into an omnipresent view of the scene, the next few hours flashing before your eyes as Jungkook snorts. You know he’s going to reach for it in two seconds, and you know he’s going to tear the hot pink packaging apart with his bare hands. He does so with a scary amount of power, the industrial tape not standing a chance against him. A box roughly the same size as the package falls out, and before you can kick it away and save yourself from suffering beneath Jungkook’s teasing antics, he’s snatching up the box.

“The Bullet Bestie,” he reads aloud, dark eyes flying across the text with lightning speed before that box is also being ripped open. (Briefly, there’s a voice in your head that thinks of Doyeon, but you’re not sure why.) Out tumbles a little pink bullet with a strap on one end that bounces against your thigh and an even smaller remote.

“Baby,” you rush out, the sight of the tiny toy making your heart thunder in your chest. “We can look at it another time,” you try, hands coming up to brush against his face again. “Why don’t you finish off here?” you ask, a sickeningly sweet politeness dripping off your tongue as the knot in your tummy fades into the background of his attention.

Jungkook ignores you, picking up the remote with a wondrous look in his eyes. Before you can try to persuade him back between your legs, a quiet click cuts you off and the little bullet whirls to life. You yelp at the sudden vibrations against the inside of your thigh, so close to your throbbing core. The jump of your thighs has it falling onto the mattress below you, wide eyes snapping back to the smirk that grows on his face.

“No,” you say slowly, sitting back up, “no, no,” you try, your usual assertiveness melting into a whiny cry as you try to wiggle away from him and the nefarious ideas infesting his lust-addled mind. You’re barely turning, ready to make a run for it and hand him his victory by forfeit, when Jungkook is catching you by the waist. Your hips get pulled up, arms clawing uselessly at the sheets beneath you as he drags you close to him. He’s fast, already having moved onto his knees behind you, and when he yanks you up, you can feel every hot plane of his body aligned with your backside. “Kook, please just make me cum,” you gasp.

There’s a smile pressed against your shoulder, lips still wet from before, kissing along the side of your neck. “Look at my girl,” he murmurs, and you nearly jump out of your skin when something smooth is traced along your thigh. One hand slips beneath the material of your shirt, soothingly rubbing circled against your skin. This hand also holds the tiny remote between two fingers, and every nerve in your body is on edge waiting for it to be used. “Where’s that smartmouth now?”

“Jungkook,” you try to warn. But there’s no bite to your words, only an anticipation that grows the closer he moves that damned toy between your thighs. “Baby, we-we can play another time, okay? Just please—“

A soft click, and suddenly your spine is giving out on you, upper body flopping forward as Jungkook runs the vibrations over your clit. Of course Jungkook follows, never letting you slip far from his reach. A loud moan spills from your lips, lower lip wobbling at the unreal amounts of pleasure he bestows upon you with such a small toy. “W-Wait,” you sob, the coil from before suddenly magnified tenfold. It makes your orgasm loom over you bigger than ever, a wave that threatens to spill over and drown you in one go. “No-please.”

His mouth presses against your ear, hot breaths fanning against the skin there. “Hey pretty girl, does it feel good?” he husks out, kissing just below your ear. “Aw fuck,” he groans, something stiff pressing against the cleft between your cheeks, “can’t even see if you’re making that stupid face right now.”

You are, but you don’t even have the words to tell him that. The moment the vibrator had made contact with your already ravished clit, your eyes had rolled into the back of your head. You don’t doubt you look like those silly ads you’d laughed at earlier, mouth opening and closing every few seconds as he circles the toy around your bud. You settle on a high-pitched whimper that has Jungkook laughing meanly against your ear.

It ends too soon, the stimulation from Jungkook eating you out for a few minutes combining with the bullet to form a powerful duo that swallows you whole. An embarrassingly loud moan rips itself from your throat, hands twisting in the sheets beneath you as it washes over you. It’s so powerful, it blinds you, pussy spasming. Jungkook’s name is repeated about a thousand times in between, your body eventually melting back into the mattress as the final shocks run through you.

The vibrator clicks off just as quietly as it turned on, your harsh breaths filling the room in its place. “Good girl,” Jungkook praises, raining down a parade of kisses against your shoulder. You mewl in appreciation, still awkwardly shoving your face into the mattress, and your hips in the air. From the corner of your eyes, you watch him set the glistening toy off to the side, and you’re just about ready to thank the heavens for such an experience with your boyfriend, when said boyfriend hits you with a curveball.

The gentle pecks against yours shoulder dissolve into harsh kisses, rough hands trailing up your waist. The t-shirt gathers around his knuckles, pushed and pushed until he’s got those same hands cupping your breasts. “Did you like that?” he asks, biting down against your shoulder; the sensation is dulled by your shirt being in the way but it still makes you whine. You moan softly, nodding against the mattress as he gets to kneading your breasts over your bra. “Mm,” Jungkook sighs, “my pretty girl was so good for me, wasn’t she?”

Those deft fingers run back down, crawl beneath the elastic of your lounge bra and push it away until your breasts are bouncing out of their cage. “Kook,” you sigh, eyes fluttering shut as he traces circles around your nipples. “W-Wait,” you whimper, suddenly reminded of the swollen cock pressed against your backside when he leans closer.

“Shhh,” he soothes, tweaking your nipples. “Relax for me, sweetheart,” he coos, flicking your hardened nipples with his fingers. You can’t relax, not with your body still so sensitive and him playing with you. Still, the low intonation makes something soft and warm settle in your chest, the kisses against your jaw making your eyes fall shut. “That’s it,” he says, giving one nipple a playful twist that draws a high-pitched moan from you.

Just as you’re beginning to fall into the rhythm of Jungkook’s caresses and voice, he releases one breast to traverse his hand down and over your tummy, to your sensitive pussy. You gasp, biting down on your lip as he teasingly flicks your clit with his fingers. “Bet you could come again now,” he murmurs, taking the tip of your earlobe into his mouth and nibbling softly. You groan, shoving your face into the sheets as if that will save you from your doom. “Bet your pretty little pussy can cream itself just like this, isn’t that right, sweet girl?”

You whimper, hips bucking back against him when he begins nudging your bud, lewd sounds reaching your ears. His other hand remains on your breast, no longer toying with your nipple but simply holding it almost comfortingly. There’s a smirk pressed against your skin, that pearly white smile you usually adore so much teasing you as he circles your nub.

“Come on,” he encourages quietly, kissing up the column of your neck again. You moan, thighs quivering as he strokes a second orgasm out of you with no struggle. Your eyes and throat burn at the heat that washes over you, and you release a hoarse scream into the mattress— Jungkook chuckles at the sound, egging you on with that low voice until your muscles go limp a second time.

When he rolls you onto your stomach again, you try desperately to cover the tears that blur your vision, turning away from him like a child when he tries to look. “Crybaby, crybaby,” he sings teasingly, prying your hands away to capture your mouth with his for the first time that night. “Lemme see those tears, baby,” he purrs.

He tastes like you, tongue dripping with that sweet tang of your pussy, and he smells like you too. It strokes the flames of you ego, arms eventually wrapping around his shoulders as he settles above you. He pulls off with a curl of his tongue against your swollen lips, brown eyes lazily staring down at you. It’s embarrassing how well kept he still was compared to your half-nude state of dress. His skin is all glowy and pretty, not a single tear track in sight, and his grin is still too relaxed for your liking.

Jungkook’s body feels so warm and comforting against yours, muscles keeping the heat trapped between your bodies. You go to brush a hand through his hair, needing to feel the familiarity of those silky locks, before he’s suddenly leaning away. He shuffles onto his knees again, glancing down at your thoroughly abused cunt with a quirk in his brows.

“God,” you groan, knocking your foot against his side. “Just fuck me already,” you huff despite your earlier fatigue. You could only go so long without feeling Jungkook’s fat demon cock inside of you.

He snorts at your snappy tone, cutely tilting his head to the side to move his hair out of his face. His jaw looks sharp from this angle, facial features covered in shadows the lamplight behind him can’t touch. “Can’t,” he announces, and you could pull your hair out from all this unnecessary build up.

Truth to be told, you and Jungkook were both equally as unrestrained when it came to each other. Most of the time, the lead up to actual, penetrative, key-in-lock sex included a couple minutes of heavy petting from his end, and maybe a half assed handjob from you. Sometimes if you felt extra attentive, he’d eat you out and you'd him off. But for the most part, the two of you jumped straight into it after an orgasm, like horny teenagers despite the two of you being twenty-three now.

The most adventurous you’d ever gotten up until the point was maybe two orgasms bestowed upon you by a crazed Jungkook. And, well. You had hit two orgasms now. You were ready for his monster cock.

“Kook,” you whine childishly.

Jungkook shakes you off, placing a palm on both your knees. Slowly, he spreads your thighs apart again, eyes zeroed in on the glossy folds that come into view, the sparkling pearly cum that leaks out of your hole. “I can’t, baby,” he says, almost pained. “I gotta clean you up first,” he insists, and before you can tell him how counterproductive it is to lick you clean of your arousal before fucking you, he’s diving face first into your cunt.

But the biggest surprise doesn’t come from Jungkook going in for thirds, but from the hands he clasps around your thighs, the sheer strength he uses to roll you over (ignoring the shriek you let out) to sit you on his face. “No, no,” you yelp immediately, “I-I‘ll break you,” you cry, trying to escape from his hold.

From beneath your thighs, dark eyes peering up at you daringly, you can see the clear warning on Jungkook’s face. It’s a look that loudly says don’t you dare fucking move, shapely brows sending a jolt of genuine fear down your spine for a moment. “Jungkook,” you fret, trying to ignore the arousal that only continues to blossom as his tongue laps against your folds for the second time that night. “I’m, I’m,” you stammer, hands burying themselves in his hair as he ignores your cries. “I’ll break you,” you try again, spine arching when he slurps your clit into his mouth. “I-I’ll—“

He pulls off with a pop. “Fuck my face, baby,” he says, as if he hadn’t heard a single of your concerns at all. His nose nudges against your clit, a whimper catching in your throat. Briefly, his hand disappears from around your thigh, and when it returns, that tiny bullet vibrator from earlier is pressed against your thigh. “You got that?”

You nod, internally torn apart by your fear of crushing him and your need to drag your cunt all over your boyfriend’s handsome face. You glance down at him, watch him slip that vibrator into his mouth for just a second and lewdly coat it in his saliva, before he’s reaching around to shove it past your pussy lips. They’re still swollen and puffy, but have long since relaxed enough for him to slip it in. “B-But what if—“

“You won’t,” he cuts off, readjusting himself closer to your cunt again, “come on, pretty girl.”

The reason you think you and Jungkook click so well was because he was able to bring that vulnerable side out of you every now and then. He knew you liked to parade around with that huge superiority complex, and he loved it. But he also knew there were things you liked and disliked, and sometimes it took a little pushing for you to reveal them.

For a second, that horny cloud over his irises lifts, and he gives you one of those cute, sloppy winks as he taps your thigh gently. “Fuck my face, sweetheart,” he whispers, “drag that pretty cunt all over me until I can’t breathe.” A gasp catches in your throat, hands unconsciously curling against his scalp. He notices, and flashes you a lazy smirk. “You can do that, can’t you?”

Something akin to adoration blooms in your chest, and before you can blurt out something embarrassing—like I love you—there’s a soft click that has The Bullet Bestie revving up inside of you. You gasp, the sudden vibrations deep inside your pussy making your hips snap forward, clit rubbing against Jungkook’s nose.

“O-Oh,” you cry, and that’s all it takes for you to lose it. Your hips start off slow, at first just savoring the wet drag of his tongue against your lips, his nose against your clit. He sticks his tongue out for you, and part of you wants to tell him he’s a good boy, that corny hentai ad flashing in your mind, but you doubt you’ll survive the aftermath of that. Once you find that perfect pace, your hands are practically yanking at his hair, pushing him further into the mattress as you ride his face like he’s nothing but a toy. “Kook, Jungkook,” you pant, grinding your lower lips against his all too eager mouth.

It feels oddly weird being over him like this, using him like this. You like to think you and Jungkook have equal power in the bedroom, but you will admit that more often than not, he assumes control by default. You’re not particularly bothered by that, because you doubt you’d ever come up with the crazy ideas Jungkook did when he was horny (okay, a lie, because you definitely have thought of crazy sex schemes before).

But, this moment…

The power was quickly going to your head. “Fuck,” you sob, roughly dragging the length of your pussy over and over his face. The hands around your thighs are pressing against your skin with a strength that would hurt were you not blinded by arousal. His eyes are shut, lids fluttering open every now and then as he watches you buck wildly over his face like he was a pillow in high school and your parents were gone for the weekend.

It doesn’t help that the rhythmic pulses of the vibrator inside of you are doing their job well, the tongue that slips into your pussy joining together to form a powerful combination. It’s ultimately what has you halting your manic thrusts, instead falling into a slow grind over him. Your hips circle, eyes squeezed shut as you lose yourself in the lapping of his tongue against your dripping hole. “Mmmf,” you mewl, biting down on your lower lip as the wet muscle prods against a delicate spot within you. You hear feels light, view of the gorgeous man beneath you obstructed by the eyelids that can't seem to stay open. “N-No,” you cry, pulling his hair more roughly than you intended to in order to redirect him. “There, there,” you whimper, holding him tight against your pussy.

Beneath you, Jungkook exhales harshly against your lips, hands moving frantically over your thighs as he works his tongue inside of you alongside the bullet vibrator. If you weren’t so caught up in your own pleasure, all kinds of sounds spilling from your lips, you would have heard the quiet moans that fall from his. Alas.

It takes a few more pulses from the toy and a few more licks from Jungkook until you’re coming for the third time that night, features twisting up as your pussy clenches around his tongue before spilling down his mouth. Your back arches, a defeated moan escaping you as you release the same mess he’d claimed to clean up onto his lovely face. You can barely breathe afterwards, mouth dry and head dizzy when Jungkook finally pops back out from between your thighs. You barely have enough time to lift yourself up, pussy lightly brushing across his Adam’s apple as you stop yourself from crushing his windpipe. It makes you twitch.

“Good girl,” Jungkook praises with a cheeky smile that distracts you from the bullet toy he retrieves from your quivering cunt. His face is absolutely glistening from your arousal, skin warm and flush. He’s looking up at you like you’re some mythical goddess and he’s but a humble villager coming to pay his respects at the temple that is your body. Fuck, were you okay? You don’t think you’ve ever felt this good in your entire life, and Jungkook’s mushy gaze was doing things to your heart.

He presses a kiss against the inside of your thigh before helping you off of him, laughing meanly when you flop limply down beside him. He’s still fully clothed, a fact that irks you when he leans over to kiss you with that glossy face of his. “D’you like it?” he mumbles, kissing softly down your face. You nod, legs twitching from the aftermath of that wild ride. “I saw it, y’know,” he says suddenly.

“Saw what?” you mumble, mindlessly rolling your head to the side and exposing more skin when he begins kissing along your neck.

Jungkook says nothing, just rolls over you. Part of you thinks he’s crazy, but you’re suddenly hit with the realization that while Jungkook’s drawn three orgasms out of you in the course of an hour, you hadn’t done anything for him. Before you can dive head first into swallowing his cock, he’s kissing you softly. “That stupid face,” he smirks, slotting his mouth against yours. “That weird, now realistic face,” he tacks on.

You huff out a laugh, throwing your leg around his waist comfortably. Jungkook smiles, kisses you one last time before settling in your arms, face cutely pressed in between your boobs. “Hey,” you call, “don't you wanna cum too?”

He shakes his head, a soft sigh filling the air. “Nah,” he says, cuddles closer into you. “Rest now, baby.”

You roll your eyes. “I can feel your dick against my thigh,” you point out, wiggling your pelvis upward to brush against his throbbing erection. Jungkook holds you down in an effort to stop you. “Fuck me.”

He groans against your collarbone. “No, you’re tired,” he tries to convince you, but his skin is warm and flushed in the way it always gets when he’s riled up. “Sleep.”

With the leg around his hip, you pull him closer. “Fuck me, Jungkookie,” you purr, using the hands in his hair to turn his face up towards yours. His dark eyes are drawn down cutely, pouty lips too. “Use my body,” you suggest, “I’m yours anyway.”

His eyes flutter shut, a quiet whimper falling from his lips. “Don’t say that,” he sighs, “makes me wanna do very mean things to you.”

You smile. “You can do whatever you want to me, don’t you know that?” Another groan, his head falling forward until he’s hiding in your neck. Still, there’s movement from below, he sweats slipping down at his hips until that throbbing cock is pressed into the tiny crease where your thigh meets your pelvis. There’s a moment of hesitation, and you wonder if this is what he felt like earlier when he’d managed to get you to sit on his face. “Inside, Jungkookie,” you murmur, reaching down to line him up with your sensitive entrance. He whines softly, arms wrapping around you as he pulls you close. “Good boy.”

Despite your earlier belief that you’d never survive an encounter with Jungkook after using such a term on him, the result is much different from what you had anticipated. He visibly melts into your arms, cock slipping past your folds easily. “No,” he says, his voice feathery and whiny against your ear. “I can’t.”

You soothe a hand down his back, eyes fluttering shut as he begins slowly rutting against your swollen lips. “That’s it,” you encourage, tugging softly at his wavy hair. Jungkook moans wantonly against your neck, rolling his hips harshly against you until his arms are the only things keeping you from jostling out of his hold. “Do you like this pussy?” you ask, purposefully clenching around him, tummy tightening at the stimulation you keep packing on.

Jungkook shudders, pace growing slipping inside of you. “Yes,” he pants, “s-so wet… creamy.”

“Yeah?” you huff, pressing a smiley kiss against his forehead. “It’s yours.”

“Ffffuck,” Jungkook chokes, picking up his pace as his well-deserved orgasm reaches its peak. He’s breathing harshly now, and it’s taking everything in you to keep your pussy tight around him. But after the night he’d given you, the sounds and faces he pulled from you, it’s the least you can do. Besides, your body, after being so thoroughly pleased, still rears up for one final orgasm with him. “Mine,” he growls, bucking his hips into you. “You’re mine, baby, mine,” he seethes, ending his little tryst with a piston of his hips that makes you gasp, body almost unconsciously spasming around him. It’s painful, but so, so delicious how he manages to pull this last orgasm from you as he finally busts inside of you.

He comes with a stuttering garble of words, none of which you catch as he collapses into your hold for the final time that night. “Fuck,” he pants afterwards, leaning into your touch when he finally registers the soft combing of fingers through his hair. “That was evil.”

You laugh, pulling him closer. “As evil as you making me suffer through three orgasms before putting your dick in me?” you tease. Jungkook slips out of you, and you know it’ll be a hassle to clean your sheets tomorrow but it’s worth it.

“It’s called building the scene,” he weakly defends, blindly tugging the puffy blanket over the two of you. “I was gonna rhyme it with that horrible website you made me use but I already forgot it’s name.”

“Rude,” you snap, “it’s called KissAnime.”

“And fore-play,” he suddenly says, and you almost yank his eyeballs out of their sockets for doing that stupid thing again.

—

epilogue 

Two weeks later, your favorite website and home to hentai ads is shut down after years of piracy. Jungkook laughs at your demise, sits and actually cackles at your heartbreak, until he eventually comforts you with his flaming demon cock and a subscription to both Crunchyroll and Funimation. Doyeon spends weeks tracking down a missing package, apparently some freebie she’d gotten for being such an avid customer on Sexuality Unleashed: The Best Toys Worldwide! before eventually finding it in your drawer. And because her and Jungkook have some awkward life-long rivalry for your attention, he doesn’t pay for that. 

—

Copyright © 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

#goldenclosetnet #networkbangtan #bangtanhq #ksmutclub #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #jjk smut #jeon jeongguk smut #jjk fic #jungkook fic #bts fic #bts smut #mine

[the-modernmary]

you’ll always know me || aaron hotchner x reader

Summary: "I would have stayed... If you asked me to.

After your high school graduation, you left without saying goodbye to Aaron Hotchner, your best friend, and nobody had heard from you since. Years later, you're back in DC, and catching up with Aaron brings more than you could have possibly hoped for.

Warnings: mentions of weed

A/N: I really wanted some soft Hotch content in my life after all the angst in my best habit, and this is about as soft as I can get. Inspired by Taylor Swift's "dorothea". Honestly, I was listening to evermore, blacked out for about three hours, and this is what came from that. There is no other explanation for this. It's written differently than my usual style, but I hope y'all like it still!

read on ao3 || masterlist

~~~~~~~

“What’s got you in such a rush?”

  Rossi eyes Aaron carefully as the latter circles around his office, double and triple-checking that he didn’t forget anything. The last thing he wants is to have to come back to the office and cut his day short.

  Aaron shoves a few case files in his briefcase. “An old friend from high school is in town and I’m meeting up with her.”

  Rossi perks up at the word ‘her’ and he leans against the door frame. Aaron notices this, too, because he shakes his head quickly. “It’s not like that. We both got sent to boarding school for being problem children and we became quick friends. I haven’t talked to her since graduation. She just packed up her stuff and left the very next day.”

“You sound bitter,” Rossi points out.

  “Not at all,” he lies, trying to forget the hurt of running to your dorm for your weekly breakfast together, only to be met with an empty room and a singular polaroid. “I knew she hated it there and her goal was to travel and see as many places as she could. Honestly, I’m surprised she’s back stateside at all. Last I heard, she was doing some art apprenticeship in Italy, but that was years ago.”

  “You sound like you have a long evening ahead of you, so I’ll get out of your hair. And have some fun tonight, Aaron. You deserve it,” Rossi adds on as an afterthought. 

  The corners of Aaron's mouth lift slightly. “I will. Try not to let the building burn down while I’m gone. Reid is back on his physics magic kick, and I think I heard something about a lighter.”

  Rossi gives Aaron a two-finger, half-hearted salute in acknowledgment, which is all it takes for Aaron to shut his office door and head towards the elevator. Knowing that you’re just outside, he has to make a conscious effort to slow his pace from an excited jog to just an anxious speed walk. The elevator ride is slow, seemingly stopping at every single floor on the way down, which gives his mind ample time to wander and think back to graduation day.

  “There you are!” Aaron shouts from across the football field as he runs up to you, shoving through bustling groups of families trying to take pictures. He has so many stoles and cords and leis around his neck that you can barely see the suit he’s wearing underneath his gown. It’s a stark contrast to you, with only a singular chord for academic achievement, although a 3.2 wasn’t much of an achievement in the eyes of most people at boarding school.

  “Here I am!” you laugh, throwing your arms around him in a hug and breathing in the smell of his cologne.

  “Where’re your parents? Didn’t they come?”

  “Of course they didn’t. They’re not ones for celebrating something as trivial as high school graduation, not when it’s just expected of me.” You roll your eyes. “What about you? I thought you and Haley were going to do the whole ‘meet the family’ thing today?”

  Aaron is oblivious to the bitterness in your voice, although that’s nothing new. “We are, but I just wanted to give these to you.” It’s then that you notice the bouquet of flowers in his hand, although it’s now being pressed into your arms. “As a congrats. And a thank you for being there for me this whole time. You’re my best friend.”

  You try to ignore the ache in your chest at his words. “Thank you, Aaron. I… I didn’t get you anything, I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be,” he waves it off. “If you want to get me something, breakfast is your treat tomorrow.”

  “Okay, deal,” you agree, the smile coming back to your face. Selfishly, you don’t want him to go back to Haley or his family just yet. You want him to stay there with you so you don’t feel so lonely in the crowd of happy graduates. “God, I can’t believe you’re staying in D.C. for college. We always talked about getting out, seeing the world and never coming back.”

  Aaron shrugs, and you watch as he brushes away a piece of his hair that falls into his face. “I’m hoping that going to GW for undergrad will make it easier to get into law school there.”

  “And Haley Brooks is still here for another year,” you point out, half accusatory.

  “Yeah, that, too.” Aaron chuckles uncomfortably before quickly switching the conversation. “What about you? Have you decided what you’re going to do?”

  “There’s an art school in Glasgow I’m thinking of going to. But, you know… George Washington also has an art program. It’s pretty nice, too. I’m still deciding.” You trail off, looking straight into Aaron’s eyes, giving him every chance in the world to make the decision for you.

  Aaron hesitates, fighting an internal battle. “Go to Glasgow!” he says, fake enthusiasm in his voice, but your disappointment blocks out anything but his actual words. “Then I’ll have an excuse to visit Scotland.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I was leaning towards, too,” you lie. “Aaron, I—”

  You’re cut off by a voice calling his name. You both turn around to see Haley Brooks waving him over, her other hand holding 7-year-old Sean’s hand. She looks like spring personified, her blonde hair in bouncy curls and her pink sundress swishing around her long, slender legs. Her smile is so big that it could have parted storm clouds, and you want nothing more than to hate her with every single fiber of your being.

  But then you see Aaron, returning her megawatt smile with his own, one you rarely ever saw, and how can you hate somebody who makes him so happy?

  “I have to go, I’m sorry,” he says, although there’s not even a hint of regret in his voice. “But I’ll see you for one last Sunday breakfast tomorrow?”

  “I’ll see you then,” you lied.

  How Aaron could have missed the signs of your unhappiness, he’ll never know. At that time, all he knew was that you left without ever saying goodbye, leaving behind only a polaroid of the two of you from your weekend trip to Virginia Beach, both of you drunk and laughing with your arms wrapped around each other. He still has it, buried in his nightstand somewhere, but he hasn’t had the courage to look at it for a few years now.

  As Aaron steps out of the FBI building, he recognizes you instantly, even though it’s only the back of your head, and it causes his breath to catch in his throat. He calls your name and watches as you turn around, your hair whipping around you, and the fact that you still have that same mischievous glint in your eyes is enough to make him feel like he’s sixteen again and nervously skipping class with you holding his hand and pulling him towards the school gates.

  “Aaron!” You jog up to him and throw your arms around him in a hug, which he happily reciprocates. You press a quick kiss to his cheek before pulling away, and Aaron’s entire face burns.

  You keep your hands on his biceps, holding him at arm’s length, as you study him. He looks almost exactly the same as he did all those years ago, with soft hair and the slightest bit of stubble, but he looks less carefree. He seems more mature, like life had aged him 100 years. Still, as cute as high school Aaron was, it had nothing on how good he looks now. “Look at you, Mr. FBI, all suit and corporate-looking! I never thought I’d see the day.”

  “Yeah, I guess I’ve changed quite a bit,” he admits, and the sight of his dimples makes you want to melt right there into the sidewalk. “It’s really good to see you again. I’ve missed you.”

  “Oh, I’m sure you barely thought about me,” you joke, but hurt flashes through your eyes.

  Aaron wants to argue, to tell you that he thinks about you all the time, but decides against it. He doesn’t want to spend the precious few hours he has with you bringing up old issues. “Are you hungry? Because there’s this diner a few blocks down with giant milkshakes.”

  “Why are we still standing here, then? All you had to say was milkshakes, they’re my favorite.”

  “I know. I remember,” he says, and that all-too-familiar pang in your heart comes back like it had never left. “Come on, we can walk and cut through a park.”

  The two of you start your walk in comfortable silence, listening to the bustling city around you. Every once in a while, your hands would bump into his, and you were doing everything you could to ignore it.

  “So did you ever go to that art school?” he asks suddenly, looking over at you.

  You nod, a soft smile forming on your face. “I did. You were right, I loved Scotland.”

  “Where did you go after that? Nobody heard from you.”

  Your eyes sparkle as memories of your life the past few years flash through your mind. “Everywhere. Literally. I took a bunch of odd jobs and spent my time traveling,” you admitted. “I taught English in Vietnam for a year, worked on a cruise ship that went around South America, was an au pair for a French ambassador, went on research expeditions… Even dated a pilot for all of six months. Anything I could do that would let me see the world.” You laugh to yourself, shaking your head fondly. “I really put that private boarding school tuition to good use, huh? My parents were pissed.”

  “It sounds like you were living the life you dreamed of,” Aaron says softly, looking down at you.

  “It was,” you agree, your voice a little sad.

  “So then why are you back here in DC?”

  You shrug, your hands clasped behind your back, and you step down on a particularly crunchy leaf. “I’m just passing through. I’ve been going around the US and looking for a place to settle down. Finally. Figured I might as well put that art degree to good use. Maybe I’ll open a gallery or something.”

  Aaron nods slowly as the chill of autumn runs through his bones. It’s nice, though, in a weird way. He’s always preferred the fall over spring. “Where have you looked so far?”

  “Lots of places. San Francisco, Portland, Seattle, Atlanta, San Antonio, Miami… I’m heading up to New York next. Nothing’s felt right so far. But enough about me, how are you? I heard you married Haley Brooks.”

  That same bitterness you felt in high school when you talked about Haley comes back with a vengeance. It’s unfair, and you know that. How was Aaron supposed to know that you were practically in love with him in high school if you never told him? Even now, you’re sure that he hasn’t put together the pieces.

  You watch as his gaze falls slightly. “I did. She died a few years ago.”

  “I’m sorry,” you whisper, and you reach out to give his hand a small squeeze.

  “We got divorced a little while before it happened,” he explains, unsure why it’s so important to him that you know that. “I blamed myself for it for a long time. But I’ve, uh… I’ve made peace with it now.”

  You give him a comforting smile, fully aware of the fact that you’re still holding his hand. “Aaron Hotchner, making peace with something in his life? I never thought I’d see the day.”

  Aaron chuckles and bumps his shoulder to yours. “I’ve been known to do it a few times. But only a few. Haley and I have a son, though. His name is Jack. He’s 8 now.”

  You shake your head in disbelief, and your cheeks hurt from smiling so much. “And you’re a father? Wow, you really have changed.”

  “Is that a bad thing?” he asks, and you shake your head wordlessly.

  “I like every version of Aaron Hotchner,” you promise. “Besides, change is a good thing. Especially since this city hasn’t changed a bit.”

  Aaron looks around, eyebrows furrowed, like he’s seeing DC for the very first time. “It’s actually changed quite a bit. But it’s subtle. Only people who have been here as long as I have would even notice it, probably.”

  The words cut through you both as a painful reminder of your abrupt departure from DC, and the silence settles over the two of you like a thick fog. This conversation was going to have to happen no matter what, you knew that going into this meeting with Aaron, but you didn’t expect it to happen so soon.

  “I would have stayed,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. “If you asked me to.”

  Aaron shakes his head as his Adam’s apple bobs. “I thought about it. But I couldn’t do that to you. I knew you wanted to see the world, and you said it yourself. This city had nothing left to offer you.”

  You pause, rubbing your thumb over your fingertips with your freehand. “It had you,” you reply, and Aaron feels like he was just stabbed in the heart. “That would have been enough.” Seeing Aaron’s dejected face, you quickly keep talking. “But I get it, don’t worry. You were head over heels for Haley Brooks. Everybody knew you two were meant to be together.””

  “What does that have to do with you leaving?” he asks, more accusatory than he intended.

  “Everything.”

  Aaron breathes out your name, unsure of what to say until he settles on: “I’m sorry.”

  You wave him off, forcing a laugh. “Don’t be. I was 17 years old with a crush. We do stupid things, like want to stay at home for a boy. I’m glad I left. Besides, Haley Brooks was clearly the love of your life, and far be it from me to try and break up the golden couple.”

  The two of you stop in front of the diner and you drop Aaron’s hand, much to his disappointment, although you’re still close enough to him to see your reflection in his brown eyes. “I didn’t know you felt like that about me,” he says.

  “Which is surprising, because everybody else definitely knew. But you’ve always been a little clueless when it comes to stuff like that,” you tease, flashing him a toothy smile. “But it’s in the past. So come on, I want to hear about this FBI stuff and drink a milkshake so big it makes my stomach hurt.”

  Twenty minutes later, you and Aaron find yourselves smushed together in a corner booth covered in cheap vinyl, splitting a chocolate milkshake and laughing as you stroll down memory lane. 

  “You know, I ran into Stephen yesterday! A little coffee shop not too far from here,” you tell Aaron.

  Aaron almost drops the fry he was about to eat. “Do you mean Stoner Stephen? What is he doing back here?”

  You take a sip of the milkshake, and Aaron’s gaze is intense as you wrap your lips around the straw. When you pull back, he’s still staring at the soft pink your lipstick leaves behind. “Apparently, he’s lived here for years. Also, did you know he’s crazy smart? Like… graduated 4th in our class, went to Brown undergrad and Columbia graduate, smart.”

  Aaron’s eyes go wide in disbelief. “And this is the same guy who, completely sober, tried putting his mattress in the pool so that he didn’t have to sleep in his own dorm?”

  “The very same one. He’s like a lobbyist now or something for some activist group.”

  “Wow, I did not expect that. Do you remember when he got so high that he thought his joint was going to catch the dorms on fire?” Aaron asks, the words barely discernible through his laughter. “So he warned campus police that the whole school was going to burn down.”

  “Yes!” you giggle, your head thrown back in laughter. “They thought it was an arson threat and they had to evacuate the whole school. I was taking an English final during that.”

  Aaron’s shoulder pressing against yours makes a shiver run down your spine. You idly wonder how much closer he can get to you if he really tried.

  As if reading your mind, Aaron turns towards you a little more so that your knees are touching and you can feel his breath on the side of your neck. “We went to the beach that weekend,” he says quietly, unwilling to break eye contact with you. “Drank cheap beer. You got stung by a jellyfish. I had to carry you back to the car.”

  No, no. You were not about to fall for Aaron Hotchner’s charm again that easily. Not again. It took you too long to get over him the first time. Still, you were leaning closer to Aaron, and Aaron was leaning in towards you, and your noses brushed as you tilt your head to the side ever so slightly and—

  And his phone rings. Aaron’s eyes flickered to your lips one last time before pulling away, giving you an apologetic look.

  “Hotchner,” he answers, and you pull your coat tighter around yourself as realization sinks into you. You feel like you’re 17 again, desperately waiting for Aaron to ask you to prom, only to hide in your dorm for days on end when he asked Haley Brooks.

  When Aaron hangs up, he immediately reaches into his pocket to pull out his wallet, setting enough cash on the table to cover the tab and tip. “That was work. We have to fly out to Arizona. I’m sorry.”

  You nod understandingly. “Gotta catch the bad guys. When do you leave?”

  It’s silent for a few torturous moments before he finally answers. “An hour, at most. We brief at the office and then get on the plane.”

  “Wow,” you breathe. “You weren’t kidding when you said that you live out of your suitcase. Can I walk back with you, at least?”

  Aaron smiles, a small smile that makes you wonder how often he actually smiles now. It used to be a lot, but from what he’s told you, it seems like he’s had a rough go of it the last couple of years, and has a lot less to smile about. It makes you sad because when you were traveling the world, his smile was the one thing you missed the most.

  “I’d really like that.”

  The two of you make small talk on the way back, swapping stories about Jack and your various adventures around the globe. The autumn air is crisp with leaves falling all around you. At one point, there was a big gust of wind, and leaves and pine needles got blown onto the two of you, and you took your sweet time running your fingers through his hair, bushing it all off him. 

  When you get to the entrance of the FBI building, neither one of you says anything. You just stand there, both unwilling to say goodbye. You turn to face each other, just as close as you were in the diner booth.

  “Oh, you have a…” Aaron delicately reaches his hand to your hair. His fingers in your hair make your stomach do flips, and you’re almost positive he can hear your racing heartbeat. His eyes stay trained on yours the entire time, never blinking. “Pine needle,” he whispers, holding the offending object between his fingers.

  “Thanks,” you breathe, and you’re not sure if it’s the autumn chill or his hand reaching to cup your cheek that sends goosebumps throughout your body.

  As if he were magnetic, you rise onto your toes, bringing yourself closer to him, and you press your lips against his. Aaron deepens the kiss and runs his thumb across your cheekbone. His other hand wraps itself around your waist. The kiss is slow and sensual and better than anything you could have dreamed of — and you dream of Aaron kissing you more often than you’d like to admit.

  All too soon, the two of you pull away from each other, both wearing matching smiles.

  “I should probably… get in there… before my team sends out a search party,” Aaron says reluctantly, pointing towards the entrance. 

  You give his hand a soft squeeze. “Go save lives. I’ll probably be around for a few more days before heading up to New York. If you’re back by then.”

  Aaron purses his lips, deep in thought. “You’re definitely settling down somewhere? Done with seeing the world?”

  “That’s the plan.”

  “Have you… Do you think…” Aaron takes a grounding breath, trying to gather the words he was too afraid to ask back at graduation. “Have you ever considered settling down here? There’s a pretty big art community here.”

  You shrug, ignoring excitement building in your chest. “I think my work is a little too experimental for the people of the capitol.”

  “You’d be surprised,” he chuckles.

  You bring your lower lip between your teeth, chewing nervously at it. “I don’t know… I left for a reason. I just don’t know what DC has to offer me anymore.”

  Aaron spreads his arms out at his side, palms facing you in an uncharacteristic display of vulnerability. “There’s me,” he offers, and, when your eyes go wide, he adds, “And Stoner Stephen, if I’m not enough.”

  A laugh bursts out of you uncontrollably, which seems to put both you and Aaron at ease. “That makes it a very tempting offer,” you tease.

  “And I have a coworker who flips houses. He’ll be able to tell you where to get the best deal on an apartment,” Aaron presses as if you need any more convincing. As if your mind isn’t already made up.

  “First, I need to know that there’s more than one good place to get milkshakes,” you point out, shoving your hands in your coat pockets. “You’ll have to show me around when you get back.”

  Aaron’s lips quirk up in a hopeful smile. “It’s a date.”

  He makes his way towards the entrance of the Hoover Building, but you call out his name, stopping him once more. “We’ll also need a new Sunday breakfast place. Since our old one is closed down.”

  Now, his smile is one of pure joy, and his eyes are sparkling in a way you haven’t seen in years. “I know just the place. As long as you don’t up and leave without telling me again.”

  “Never again,” you promise, and for once, the idea of staying doesn’t terrify you.

  “Then we’ll get breakfast together as soon as I get back.”

  You smile at him, already missing the feeling of his lips on yours. “I’ll see you then.”

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #criminal minds fanfiction #my writing

[writingsfromhome]

Water under the Bridge (Josslyn II)

A/N: Okay! Here it is!!!! This was fun and made my heart hurt a little but maybe I’m just being emotional. And can you guys believe it’s been over a year since I posted Josslyn?? Where has the time gone?? I don’t think we’re on the sacred timeline anymore........Anyway thank you anon who suggested this storyline, and hope y’all enjoy! <3

Josslyn (Original)

------

We’re going to have the best weekends evr, Regan texts me even though she’s just in the other room. Schedules were released for our summer semester and Regan and I had managed to get Fridays off. Summer was going to be so fun, and after two years doing college together we were experts at managing our workload to have fun on the weekends--even if that meant sacrificing a few nights’ sleep.

We’ll make summer our bitch, I text back. I hear a chuckle from her room.

Help me pick out a fit? she texts. I want to tell her Adam would love her in whatever, but I head to her room instead and watch her try on a dozen outfits before settling on the second. I tease her about Adam--they were going steady since first year, but she still got so nervous about him sometimes. Adam’s college was a train ride away so he would come down at least one weekend a month.

As for my own love life, there’d been no one steady. I did the whole hooking up and dating scene in first year but I was romantically burnt out by second. Nowadays, I could go home with someone if I chose to, but I also didn’t mind if I didn’t. My active endeavor to find a boyfriend had stopped when I realized I was trying to fill a gap. Instead, I was learning to be happy on my own.

“Are you sure I can’t convince you?” Regan asks. She was taking the train to Adam’s college and staying with him, there was this big start-of-summer party and she’d been trying to convince me for weeks.

“I don’t feel like being a third wheel,” I tell her honestly.

“You don’t have to!” She goes over her one argument again. “Gaelle’s roommate isn’t even back until next week so she has a spare room! She said you should come. Plus,” she ties her hair up, “it’s the weekend before the semester starts so have some fun.”

I make a noise, and she turns to look at me, totally judging me. It makes me laugh. “That’s why my version of fun is to.binge Netflix and-”

“Y/N!” She groans.

“Fine! I’ll go.”

Two words that would change everything.

***

By the time we get to the campus, Regan and I had come up with a dozen things we could potentially do this summer. I’m high on excitement as we meet up with Gaelle, and the three of us head to Adam’s place.

The sun is almost set by the time we leave, most of the sky is dark but a streak of orange stays stubbornly on the horizon. I pause to take pictures before we’re rushing off.

We approach the frat house--if you could call it that. It was half glass with a very modern structure. The greek symbol on the side of the house was the only indicator it wasn’t a millionaire’s summer-house.

“Since when did frat houses get so modern?” I ask. “This is...nice.”

“Wait ‘til you see inside,” Adam says. And he was right, even the drinks were fancier with their own guy behind the bar...although he was taking the occasional shot and getting progressively drunk.

We settle in an area close to the music and get swept up into the party atmosphere. Some people were beyond drunk already and I enjoyed the slight buzz of the drink in my hand. The views from inside with floor-to-ceiling windows were amazing.

Pretty soon, Adam and Regan break off. We move towards the centre of the party where the typical party shenanigans were happening. We tip back our drinks and pretty soon I’m straddling the line between tipsy and drunk. I find a cute boy with blonde hair and deep brown eyes and makeout with him until he gets too handsy.

“Ugh!” I give him one last shove and look for Gaelle but I’d lost her too. I search for a bathroom but they’re either occupied or have a lineup. This was a huge ass house, one of the bedrooms had to have one.

I open the first door to shouting.

“It’s called locking the door!” I shout drunkenly as I close it. The next room actually is locked, and the next one isn’t but I wish it was. “Eugh.”

I climb up to the topmost level, three doors--one was locked with the sound of people inside and the second is a bathroom. I was grateful people hadn’t made it up this far.

As I wash up, and touch up the mascara that was crusting under my eyes the door shakes as someone bangs on it from the other side.

“Dip! What the fuck are you doing in there? Everyone’s waiting for you!”

My heart pounds at the sudden noise and the deep voice demanding me to open up. The rush of adrenaline sobers me for a moment as I rush to open the door, “Sorry I didn’t realise anyone was...waiting.”

My words slow down and freeze altogether as I realise the fist banging on the door belonged to...him. Harry. He seems just as surprised as me, straightening up before a smile slowly inches across his face, it was almost sweet bordering on predatory. “Y/N!”

“Hi,” I say awkwardly. There was a lot of history and also not at all. I was also, I decide, too drunk for this. Act sober, this is not the night to run into this fucker.

“You-you’re the last person I was expecting to--excuse me it’s... good to see you! You look--you look as beautiful as ever!”

The events from high school that created this tense history between Harry and I was one of the worst things possible to happen to teenage Y/N. The thing is though, that I’d totally bounced back after I had decided he could fuck himself. Although it was awkward seeing him every day until graduation, it made me tougher. I credit it for making me so casual about relationships now...I stopped expecting so much of the boys I saw.

But leaving high school behind, my world expanded with college, I realised how childish it had all been: I’d had a fling with a player, and he’d played the field...It wasn’t that deep. But seeing him now, It made me aware in a way I wasn’t for a long time. Maybe what they said about distance had some merit. Or maybe I was just buzzed.

“Thanks...I wasn’t expecting you either.”

“You don’t uh, you don’t go here do you? I’ve never seen you around.”

“No,” I look out to the small hall but there’s no one there. The room that was previously locked is slightly ajar carrying male voices. “Adam goes here, I’m...with Regan.”

“Ah, Regan.” He smiles. “You’re still two peas in a pod?”

“Obviously,” The stiffness eases at the mention of my best friend. “So...can I get out of here?”

“Yeah sorry,” he moves aside so I can step into the hall. “Um, we’re playing video games in here room if you...you’re probably not interested.”

I clear my throat, Harry was playing video games when there was a party downstairs? I was curious, that maybe he changed.

“Oh,” he laughs and the dimples I adored make an appearance. “I’ve still got it! My frat just hosts too many parties for me to keep track.”

I guess I said that out loud, I bite my tongue but it really has a life of it’s own. “Did you jussay you still got it?” Oh my god, I was teasing him already. What about Harry made me absolute putty.

“Yeah,” he looks almost bashful. “Uhm, go easy I’m a little nervous here Y/N.”

I don’t know what to say to that, I bite my lip so nothing stupid comes out.

“So you’re just here for the night?” He carries on.

“Staying over with a friend,”

“A fr-” he cuts himself off, pressing his lips together. I realize I’m staring and look away.

“I should go-”

“Wait I-wait uh, how have you been? I haven’t seen you in years.”

“Yea,” I play with the rings on my fingers. “M’good, great. College’s a lot better than high school.”

“It’s not even comparable,” Harry says as he leans his shoulder against the wall. He looks perfectly placed there, and a tipsy voice flashes inappropriate thoughts into my head. “So...any...boyfriends?”

“Um,” that was direct. “No. No, I’m trying out being single...”

“Did something happen?” His expression is still casual but he holds himself rigid.

“No? A girl can’t be single?”

“Sure but someone like you...I’m just surprised.”

“Whatever that means,” I roll my eyes and head past him to go down but he blocks my way.

“Wait, I didn’t mean to offend you...” his voice dies out as I cross my arms. “I also didn’t mean to block you in.”

He steps aside and it feels painful to me but I take the small steps towards the staircase. One part of me--I blame the tipsy stupid part, wants to kiss him just to see if there was still something there, see if anything’s changed. The other was listing all the reasons this was an awful idea, to top it off he was a proven player, has broken my trust once before, and went to a school almost 2 hours from mine.

“Y/N,” Harry’s gruff voice says from behind me. My feet turn without permission and he’s right behind me. “M’sorry. Let me start over.”

I glance at his lips, damn. I can’t meet his eye suddenly. Oh god, I was still pretty tipsy. My mind short-circuits and all I can do is turn back to walk away, down the two sets of stairs, past sweaty bodies and loose limbs. In a great coincidence I bump into Gaelle in what looks like a game room.

“Harry goes here?” I ask--shout at her immediately. Her eyes widen, something passes over her face. “Was no one going to tell me he was going to be here?”

“I’m sorry!” She shouts. “I forgot you two had history!”

“I just wish I was prepared,” I say and she doesn’t hear, I just shake my head when she asks me to repeat. I needed another drink, and Regan. Maybe she could remind me why I stopped caring about him.

As I set off to find her, I’m reminded again how stupid this all was. High school was an ancient dream, we were all different people. I was a different person.

But even though what happened in high school was petty and juvenile, I remember how Harry made me feel. How it felt when we were together--even if it was a joke for him back then, I couldn’t forget the feeling of being seen. Of having arms to fall into, even if I knew they weren’t permanent.

“Regan!” I find her sitting on the dining table while Adam spoke with someone else. Her eyes alight and she waves me over. “I saw him! He...he goes here!”

“Who?” Confusion strings her brows together.

“Harry! From...you know Harry! He was upstairs! I--I didn’t know how to act.”

“Shit Harry! I forgot he went here!”

“You knew?” I throw my hands up.

“I didn’t think it was a big deal! He’s a dick but that was high school?”

“No I-” I sigh. “You’re supposed to tell me he’s still a dick! I saw him and it just got...complicated.”

Regan slides off the table and pulls me into a side hug, we can also hear each other better. “You’re a big kid now, do whatever you want Y/N. Tell him off, kiss his face, take revenge, who the fuck cares? We’re taking the train two hours home after this anyway!”

She had a point. But still...he couldn’t have changed much from the boy who hurt me.

“Adam hangs out with him sometimes,” Regan continues. “Apparently he’s not as bad as high school. He’s...mellowed out.”

“Unreal,” I roll my eyes. Adam was just covering for his friend. We hear a cheer go up behind us and Regan bulges her eyes as two guys help Adam up on his hands to do a keg stand.

Regan swears and heads back to him. I walk away, somehow feeling more and less confused after talking to Regan--do I go back up and see what this leftover emotion was, or ignore it as a drunken need for comfort?

But it’s like the decision is made for me when a hand wraps around my arm as I move from the dining area to the kitchen. I already know it’s him before I turn.

“Can we talk?” he asks. I nod and his grip loosens, slipping down into my palm. “Upstairs?” He motions to the staircase and we climb up the two flights. This time he leads me into one of the locked doors and although I’ve never been here, I’d been in some version of this room before. It’s familiar.

I ignore the ache when he lets go of my hand once we’re inside. I set my drink down on his desk and perch on the window ledge, it’s not big enough to sit on but has enough space for a few of his books and a speaker. His room’s pretty near, but then again Harry was never messy.

“So what do you want-” I start just as he says “Let me get this off my chest.”

“Go ahead,” I cross my arms before uncrossing them, and then crossing them again. With the way he ruffles his hair and crosses to the door and back, he seems just as nervous.

“You can leave at any time. I just want to say I was an asshole, I still kind of am sometimes. And I’m sorry for what I did to you. I know it’s like what--2 years late but all that with...Josslyn and all that...I’m sorry.”

Hearing her name makes me want to grind my teeth but I let the feeling pass. I reach for my drink instead to give me something to do. “It’s all water under the bridge.”

“Really?” Harry regards me suspiciously. “Because the way you were talking to me out there...”

“You’re just you,” I shrug. “Harry Styles, player and sweet-talker. I was just guarding myself against that.”

“Because of what happened between us?”

“No...maybe. I don’t know. But honestly, I’m not upset with you. It feels like an eternity ago. I guess it’s just self-preservation.”

“I guess,” he echoes. “So where does that leave us? If you’re all self-preserved?”

I eye him but he cracks a smile, he was teasing me. “It doesn’t have to leave us anywhere,” I snort. “We’re water under the bridge Harry...”

“My parents split,” he says suddenly and I’m reeling with the direction he’s taken. I open my mouth, and close it when nothing comes out. “Sorry, I know that’s random it’s just I never really talked to anyone about how they were rarely home and when they were they were always arguing a-and we spoke about it a lot. About our families so I just...”

“I’m sorry to hear that, do they still live in town?” I ask, wanting to put my hand on his or show him I cared but they stay glued to my drink.

“My mom moved into the city, it’s closer to her job and since I’m not living at home anymore it doesn’t really matter...”

“You still go home?” I ask.

“I don’t even know where home is?” He looks at me then, and the look in his eyes chips at the wall I’d been trying to build all night. Things had changed, for him.

“Are you--do you have someone to talk to?”

His laugh is dry, “They split last summer, convinced me to talk to some therapist. I don’t know if it really helped I think I’m actually better off. They’re better off and I just feel...free.”

I don’t know what to say to that so I stay quiet. He looks back up at me then, cracks his knuckles, before perching on his bed. “I’m just--sorry I’m not telling you that so you can feel sorry for me-”

“I don’t I just-”

“No it’s okay I just want to tell you that because you knew about that stuff. But I’m trying to tell you I’m not the same guy. Not completely, I’m just trying to tell you things changed and so have I.”

It echoes the same sentiment I had earlier in his conversation, and I remember Regan said he’s mellowed out. Maybe it was true. It still didn’t mean I was going to get together with him anytime soon but my heart hurts for him. I walk up to where he sits, he watches me with a steady gaze.

In the quiet, I hear the party going on outside the window, three floors below us. If I listen really carefully, I can hear sounds coming from the video game being played next door. In the stillness, I reach for Harry’s hand and he obliges, grasping mine.

“I wish I could...help you with the hurt. Not knowing where to call home is pretty shitty.”

“Don’t worry about me Y/N,” he pastes on his classic smile and I return one for his sake. It was getting heavy in here. “I’m just happy I got to talk to you. And I just found out you don’t hate me so...” he holds our intertwined hands and shakes it. “woo hoo!” I laugh as we let go.

“I guess I should go back to the party.”

“Yeah, okay. I won’t keep you.”

“Okay,” I’m a little stung he doesn’t suggest I stay a little longer. Maybe it was all in my head, maybe his intentions really were to make amends and that’s it. I pick my drink up from his windowsill and move to the door. I glance back before I go, he’s laying on his bed deep in thought, gazing up at the ceiling. I close the door behind me.

***

I wake the next morning, surprisingly well. I can’t say the same for Gaelle who’d passed me her keys at some point and told me she’d be home late. I spent the rest of the party trailing Regan until I decided I should just go crash. Harry hadn’t come out to find me, and I tried to hide the sour feeling, excusing myself early.

“Fuck me,” Gaelle croaks from her bed when I step into her open doorway.

“How about coffee, and pancakes?” I ask, returning the favor of being able to sleep here.

“I’ll take it,” she flops back into bed. I busy myself with measuring coffee and water, my thoughts occupied with everything Harry and I had been through since we last saw each other. I demonized him for so long, humanizing him is harder to swallow.

What he’d done to me was shitty, there was no denying. But had he really changed? And most importantly, why did I care so much? It’s not like he was the one.

My phone rings: Regan. She’s talking so fast I hardly hear her, only really understand that it was a party ritual to gather in the student centre the morning after a big party. Endless coffee and free food seemed to be the general consensus for a party cure.

“I don’t know if I can make it there,” Gaelle says when I tell her. “I was hoping for pancakes at home.”

“I already put the coffee on but I’m hauling your ass there if you’re not up in 5. Our train leaves after noon anyway and it’s closer to the college.”

Slowly but surely Gaelle emerges and we make our way, spotting Regan easily as the bright spot in a sea of college students in PJs and last night’s clothing. She’s the only one fully dressed, with a full face of makeup on.

“I didn’t drink that much,” she shrugs when we settle around her and Adam’s friends. “Unlike some people.” She looks pointedly at Adam who’s slumped where he sits. I remember the kegger and laugh.

Life soon flows back into the group around us as does the coffee and breakfast foods. I’m relaxed in the environment until I look down the tables to where Harry stands, looking back at me. He raises a hand and I do the same until an extremely tall angel--she was literally wearing a halo, probably from last night-walks up to him and wraps her hands around his waist. She says something to him and he tears his gaze away.

I look down at my cup immediately, my cheeks burning with humiliation. I’d been thinking about him all this time, thinking about how it might feel if I kissed him and of course he had a girlfriend. She never came up, but he never said he didn’t either. He didn’t make any moves on me yesterday, if I looked at it he only made an attempt to talk. Sure he was flirty but that was just Harry and I...I was a fool. I was such a fool. Things may have changed for him but he hadn’t. He was still the same Harry who chose Josslyn over me. He would always have a girlfriend, I was just the girl from his past who he could trust. I couldn’t say the same about him.

“What’s wrong,” my best friend nudges me. “Are you feeling okay?”

“I don’t know,” I look into her concerned eyes. “I’m just going to--I’ll be right back.”

I head out and find the closest washroom. The tears are instant and I let myself cry--out of frustration, humiliation, or some twisted sense of betrayal...it was all the same for me. I check the time, I just had to hold myself together and avoid Harry for another 2 hours before we were back on the train home. I would tell Regan everything then.

*** Three weeks later ***

“If Adam’s over later...” Regan trails off. She’s sprawled on my bed while I sit in my desk chair trying to read one more chapter before I close the books for the week.

“I have my earplugs ready and a second place to stay,” I roll my eyes. “I already told Kiara I might crash on her couch.”

“I owe you,” she jumps back up.

“You owe me like, 7 and a half.”

“7 and a half?”

I’m about to answer but a knock on our door has her racing out. I try to ignore the voices, I just had two more pages I had to get through--the joy of summer classes.

“Y/N?: Regan’s voice is a whisper. “We’re going now but...you have a guest. If you want me to kick his ass I totally can though.”

Standing behind her is Harry. I focus on him, yes it really was him. Why was he here?

“Harry?” I sound confused because I am. He’s wearing a plain white t-shirt and jeans, and he’d traveled 2 hours just to get here.

“He wouldn’t leave me alone,” Adam says louder as they leave the room. “I’m sorry Y/N...”

“What is this?” I ask. My feelings are at war with each other, I was still feeling slighted by the last time we saw each other but seeing his face was also an exciting surprise.

“I wanted to see you,” Harry says nervously. He still stays at my bedroom door.

“You can come in...” I stand up and realize I was wearing an oversize t-shirt and the scruffiest PJ shorts I owned. “Phones have cameras now, you didn’t have to come all this way.”

He shrugs, taking one step in. “I liked seeing you in person last time. But I feel like we left it wrong.”

He knows I saw him, what conclusions I must have come to. It wouldn’t be that hard. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. We talked it out.”

He comes to life, “Don’t play dumb Y/N I know you saw me with...I know what you thought and-”

“Did you really come all this way to explain that you had a girlfriend? Like, three weeks later?”

“No that’s the thing-”

“Because that’s kind of dumb. And unnecessary-”

“No listen!” He says a bit louder so I do. “The thing is she wasn’t my girlfriend...we’d hung out a few times but she saw me at the caf and got clingy. We’re not an item honestly, I can’t remember the last time I had a girlfriend-.”

“So why are you here?” My voice is higher than usual. I was confused, and upset, and I wanted him to leave. This was starting to sound like Josslyn part 2.

“You know why I’m here. Y/N I’ve been nothing but a dick to you and I know I don’t deserve you but I really like you. I want to clear the air, and ask you if you can see something here I...”

He trails off when he notices the tears trailing down my cheek. It’s just too much for me, as I finally face the emotions from that weekend. I’d shoved them aside after Regan had gotten onto the train worried her and Adam were headed towards a breakup. I’d put aside what happened and never thought about it. But my heart broke a little that morning. 

I knew what I knew: maybe Harry and I weren’t good for each other but we were good with each other. In an attempt not to get hurt I’ve been distancing myself from romantic connections--I found more of myself in doing this, but a part of me was missing without exploring it.

Harry moved closer until we’re nearly touching. I wipe my tears with my shoulder and we stand still on the hardwood floors of my room. An eternity passes before he reaches out to wipe the tear caught in my lashes. I close my eyes to his touch, scared of how much I wanted it.

“Y/N,” my name is a breath on his lips and it makes my heart stutter. My eyes open in slow motion, seeing him so vulnerable right in front of me, and suddenly things speed up and we’re reaching for each other; two waves crashing until they become one.

***

I don’t know how much time had passed in minutes, Adam and Regan are still out but Harry and I had fallen together and crashed apart so many times that I’m dizzy with it.

“You’re wonderful,” he says as we face each other, our noses just nearly touching. He trails a finger down my cheek. “Just...incredible.”

I feel the flush spread through me, “Great vocab Styles. We’re really using the big words.”

“Words are sort of hard right now,” he grins. “My brain’s all mush.”

I laugh, “Not much different to its usual state!”

“I knew you were going to say that!” he tries to reach for me but I skip off the bed with a laugh. “Come back.”

“I have to pee,” I slip on pants and can’t stop grinning the whole time I’m away. When I come back in, the blissful smile on his face tells me everything I need to know. I climb over him but he stops me in place, a knee on either side of his hips.

“I’m happiest when I’m with you Y/N,” he says, his voice roughened with emotion. “I think I always was. Younger Harry liked to self-sabotage.”

I bend down and my hair slips around us. The way he looks at me makes my insides mush. And even though I have proof of why I shouldn’t trust him, he’s here. In my bed. Miles away from where he would be if he hadn’t traveled all this way to see me. And that means something.

“I’m glad you’ve done some growing,” I say to him quietly.

“I had to,” he says softly. “I couldn’t have you like I do now if I hadn’t.”

“I guess we’ve both grown,” I brush a curl from his forehead.

“I know, old Y/N would have punched me if I showed up unexpectedly.”

“Rightly so,” I grin. He smiles back, brushing my hair behind my ear, back over my shoulder. He props himself on his elbow to kiss the shoulder he’d bared. It’s simple, and sweet, but it’s enough to unravel me all over again. And he knows it.

“When does Regan get home?”

“We might have another half hour,” I grin.

“Let’s not waste it,” he mumbles into my skin.

I agree.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #series #harry styles series #harry styles fic #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #writingsfromhome #college!harry #I think the idea of growing separately as a young adult #and coming together again as more mature versions of yourself is what #gets me #or maybe I'm emotional because I'm a year older soon #and it's got me thinking about being in your 20s #either way hope this is enjoyable #tag talk out #ps dont mind any inconsistencies i wrote this quick

[moldisgoodforyou]

you'd come with me?

wordcount: 1.5k

lol this picture just makes me laugh we love a mich ultra man

“How much longer?”

“Just a few…” Sophie answered Rafe absentmindedly, biting her bottom lip in concentration as she typed.

They’d assumed their usual positions while studying in her room - she was sprawled out on her bed, while he sat at her desk, concentrating on whatever homework he had for the day. She’d banned him from the bed during study time, much to his dismay, claiming he was far too distracting. (He still got away with distracting her half the time anyways, slinking over and tucking his large frame into her side like a dog that had overgrown its owner’s lap years ago.)

“Rafe?” She broke the silence after a while, punctuating her sentence with a firm shut of her laptop.

“Yeah, baby?”

“I just applied for a grad program.” She told him nervously, unsure of what his reaction might be.

He shrugged, not turning his attention to her. “Okay? I thought you applied to Ohio State’s, you’re basically in already.”

“Well, yeah. But, um - can you look at me, please?” Sophie bit at her bottom lip, anxious.

He glanced up and finally noticed her nervous energy, then came over to sit next to her on the bed. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, it’s just big news. Maybe. I don’t even know if I have news yet, really -”

“Spit it out, Soph.” He nudged his knee against hers, concerned.

She nodded, taking a breath. “Okay. I applied to three other places, too. Two are in New York, one’s in Texas. And I know, I should have told you, but I wasn’t even sure if I wanted to do it in the first place, I kind of applied on a whim - well, I’ve been perfecting the application essay for weeks, but -”

“Soph, hey, it’s okay.” He cut off her rambling and a broad grin spread across his face, completely surprising her. “New York and Texas, for real?”

She raised her eyebrows and fidgeted with her ring, glancing at him worriedly. “That doesn’t worry you at all? That we’d be apart?”

She’d thought about how to tell him, when to tell him, for weeks now. She’d been hiding that she was interested in applying to other schools since June and though she felt incredibly guilty, she kept thinking back to long distance and how sad he seemed sometimes. She couldn’t break him with the news again so soon, not when she saw the way he lit up when they were together again and how content he was. Not when she saw how hard it was for her to support him from thousands of miles away, knowing physical touch was a big thing he relied on for comfort in their relationship.

He interrupted her train of thought as he took her hand, lacing their fingers together. “Sophie, baby, do you know how many jobs are in New York and Texas?”

“Wait, you’d come with me?” She stuck her bottom lip out a little, overwhelmed and almost near tears at his response.

“I was planning on following you no matter what.” Rafe smiled encouragingly, reaching out and stroking his thumb over her cheek. “If you’ll have me.”

“Oh.” She said softly, growing shy. “You’re sure? You could go wherever you wanted, I don’t want to hold you back -”

“Hey, hey, none of that. Where’d you apply, when do you hear back?”

“You’re sure this isn’t an issue.” She asked warily, not wanting to undermine his feelings.

“I’m positive.” He gave her a proud grin. “What schools?”

“Okay, um. Columbia -”

He let out a long low whistle, nodding. “Impressive.”

She blushed, finally grinning back. “Hush. Columbia, Syracuse and UT Austin. Isobel already got into Syracuse. Columbia’s my top choice, but that’ll probably never happen.”

“Of course it’ll happen, get out of your head.” He leaned down and kissed her, smiling against her lips. “Look at you, big shot, applying for an Ivy.”

She relaxed, her hands trailing along the hem of his shirt, and ducked her head to hide her grin. “Stop. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“It is that big of a deal. When do you find out?” He shifted to lay down by her, then tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.

“Um…not for a couple months, I think. You’ll really follow me?”

“Course I will, if you’ll have me.” He nodded earnestly.

“Yeah. I’d like that.” She beamed, nudging her nose against his. “You’re my favorite.”

“Love you too.” He responded. “Wait, did you just apply? Like right now?”

She nodded, biting the inside of her cheek. “Just finished my Columbia essay, I did the rest last week. Now I wait.”

He smoothed his thumb over her cheek, making her relax again. “You’re so damn smart. Should we go celebrate?” Rafe gave her a cheeky grin. “Double scoop with sprinkles?”

She rolled her eyes. “Doesn’t have the same effect now that you get it for free.” As a part of his internship program, he’d received a punch card for 25 free visits to Jeni’s, their favorite ice cream shop - they’d hardly made a dent in it since returning to school.

“No, I pay extra for the sprinkles and your waffle cone.” His grin gave way to a slow smirk and he kissed her neck, sucking gently for a moment. “We could celebrate other ways…”

“Wait, no, I actually do want the ice cream.” She pulled away before he could leave a mark, giving him a warning glance. “I gotta make up for what I missed over summer.”

He laughed, getting up and offering his hand. “Alright. C’mon, genius. Jeni’s is waiting for you.”

She took his hand, but didn’t stand. “Wait, Rafe. You’re sure, this is okay with you? I know you have your job lined up and all…”

Rafe paused, shrugging. “Yeah, well. Uh, Brooklyn got the job offer too, she’s already accepted it. So I wasn’t too psyched about it anyways.”

“Oh.” She nodded, thoughtful. “Have you been to New York? Or Austin?”

“I have. You haven’t? You want to go visit when you get in, so you can make your final decision?” He tugged on her hand, pulling her up into a hug and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“Not sure I could afford that.” She mumbled, resting her head on his chest.

“Man, too bad you don’t have a boyfriend with money to pay for those trips.” He hooked a finger under her chin, tilted it up so he could look her in the eyes and see her scowl. “If you want to visit, we’ll go. Easy weekend trip.”

“Right.” Sophie nodded, unsure. “Maybe. I’m not even sure I’ll get in, I’ll probably be stuck here in Columbus for another year anyways.”

“Hey. Stop talking like that. You’ll help me look for jobs in New York and Texas, right?”

“Of course I will.” She confirmed. “You know, we could probably find something related to film in New York…”

He scoffed and looped his arm around her shoulders, steering her out of her room and down the stairs. “I think my dad might write me out of his will if I did anything adjacent to the film industry. Waste of my time, he says.”

She frowned, letting him usher her out to the car. “Maybe you should go talk with the career counselors, see if there’s options to combine both. You’re good at marketing too, maybe there’s something there?”

“Not sure. Haven’t really thought about any of that.” He dismissed her quickly, feeling uneasy like he did any time he thought about his future outside of school.

Sometimes he realized he was really good at absorbing other people’s interests, like he was able to always match his personality into a perfect mold to other people’s expectations. With Colin and James, and now Sophie, he was able to let his guard down a little and figure out who he was, who he wanted to be beyond his father’s expectations. He felt like he was thinking about this ten years too late - eleven year old Rafe had always written his ‘dream job’ in school as working for his dad. Now he was about to graduate, set to get a job, and wasn’t even sure if he could list his hobbies outside of hanging out with Sophie and his friends, and watching movies.

“Look, I just...I don’t want you to lose sight of what you’re actually interested in just because you need a job. You don’t have to hate your job.” She told him, carefully.

“I know.” He nodded, shutting down the conversation. “Today’s not about me, though, we gotta celebrate you, hotshot over here.” He grinned at her, leaning over to kiss her quick across the seat. “I think they have the chocolate cake back in stock, I’ve missed it.”

She picked up on his hesitation, but didn’t push it. “You’re such a creature of habit.”

“No, you’re just a psychopath picking a different flavor every time.” He shook his head as he reached his hand to rest behind her seat, turning around to back up. “Good thing I love you anyways, smart girl.”

“Love you too, sweet boy.” She replied with a smile.

taglist: @drewstarkey @lemur46 @jjmaybanksbaby @edgeofgr8 @quxxnxfhxll @obxtess @hoodpankow @vtgirl802 @outerbankies @messagesinthesky @nicolecarsley @svechnikolan @ilovejjmaybank @obxtess @abbyj1822 @oopsiedoopsie23 @g4bster @jjmaybankzz @freddymaybank @dontjinx-it @illbesafeforyou @moniamaybank @tovvaa @jailcalledlife @sunshineitsfine44 @randomficsandshit @outerbankspreferences @outerbanksbro @karsinner @kkmaybank @whoeveniskendall @lemur46

#rafe camron #rafe cameron fanfic #outer banks #outer banks fanfic #obx #obx fanfic #college rafe #frat rafe #rafe x sophie #mine

[jackson-t-escobar]

Call it magic

 ~ Chapter I ~

Pairing: Ivar x Heahmund (Modern!AU)

Word count: 1.1 k

Summary: How to deal with a breakup? Ivar still doesn’t know, even after a few months. And when he meets his ex again one day, the chaos is perfect - between immature brothers, sex with the ex and the decision whether to forgive or to forget.

Tags: hurt/comfort, fun, smut, fluff, family bonds, brotherly love, age difference, jealousy.

If you want to be part of the tag list (or be removed, doesn’t matter xD), just send me a DM. I will not post this on AO3, this will be a tumblr story only. I hope you enjoy this!

@youbloodymadgenius​ @jadelynlace​

Ivar stared out the window, watching people scurrying past with umbrellas or something else over their heads to escape the thick drops. They were almost all running, and the street was slowly filling with the cold water - the lights of the cars reflected in the rain, almost bathing the surroundings in a magical, warm atmosphere. Ivar was glad to be inside - his fingers clawed more fiercely into his hoodie, and he rested his chin lightly on his folded forearms while his blue eyes followed the drops on the window.

It had been a few months since Heahmund and he had parted ways. And although Ivar had enjoyed the time off for a very long time, really letting off steam - he was slowly getting to a point where it didn't seem to be going any further. It was now autumn, and the days were increasingly overshadowed by rain and cold; the time when you sat in front of the fireplace in the evening with your partner, in front of the TV, watching Netflix. Autumn days were cuddling, baking cakes and cookies, watching the bad weather. Preferably with a warm arm around the middle of your body, pulling you closer as soon as there was even a slight shiver at the thought of being outside.

The breakup had only really hit Ivar consciously a few weeks after the actual breakup. They had been together for almost a year, but not publicly - since Ivar had still been 17 at the time, and not even close to being of age. It had been best to lie in bed with Heahmund in the evening, while Hvitserk - the only one who had known - had covered for him. Had told their parents lies about why Ivar was gone so often on weekends. And why his grades had gone down just before he graduated from high school, because he had only had the older man on his mind all the time. Heahmund had been 30 when it had ended.

"Hey, do you plan to watch TV like a normal person again sometime, or is someone out there running around naked?" his brother Hvitserk's voice interrupted the silence; Ivar didn't flinch, but cursed inwardly because he had bitten his lower lip slightly when he was startled. He did not say anything at first, but tried to remove his slightly sad expression from his face. After all, Hvitserk didn't necessarily have to know that he'd hit rock bottom once again.

"I like to look outside. Of course, you uneducated cretin don't understand that because your IQ also only lasts from morning to noon," Ivar said quietly; he released the clasp from his hoodie and with a casual movement turned to Hvitserk, who also sat down on the wooden floor with his younger brother.

For a moment they looked at each other, then Hvitserk snorted softly. "Is it still because of him? You need to forget about him for once, honestly."

"How am I supposed to forget him, huh? Unless you mean your tip that you use 90% of the time," Ivar snarked, and Hvitserk raised his eyebrows with a grin.

"Fucking is the best cure for everything, Ivar. Headaches? Fucking. You're late? Never mind, one more round will do. You actually have to work? Lay the colleague." he said, amused, and Ivar rolled his eyes with a slight click of his tongue.

"I'm surprised you get so many women anyway. They must smell your stupidity - stupid fucks well, as we all know. It almost can't be anything else."

"Ah, is that so? And you?"

"Me?" Ivar said quietly; his gaze went back out the window for a moment, then he sighed softly. "I've been trying out, haven't I? You know that, too. But somehow... somehow, they're all... shallow. And stupid, like you."

 "That's no reason to mope, after all, when you can blow something else," Hvitserk said, earning a juicy kick from Ivar against his upper arm in return, which he merely commented with a slight "Ouch!" and a laugh, while Ivar himself couldn't help grinning. Sometimes his brother was really annoying, but his big mouth usually managed to get Ivar back on track. Or at least distract him for a few moments.

"What do you say... We go out for dinner and figure out where we can get drunk to death this weekend. Okay?" Hvitserk suggested, and Ivar took a deep breath in and out.

"Mom will kill me if I still don't know what I want to study after this weekend."

"Dude, I've got a cure for that: fucking a professor."

"Hvit, man. Be serious for once!"

"We'll do it when we drink. That's the best idea, that way we can do both in one go. Ha! Call me genius, my little brother."

Ivar rolled his eyes but slammed into Hvitserk's hand. His incisors dipped slightly into his lower lip again, and Hvitserk snorted softly.

"What was so great about him, please? Besides you being into dilfs, which is really disgusting. Forget him, he broke up with you on fucking Valentine's Day. What guy does something like that?"

For a moment, that sentence hit Ivar deep in the heart. He had repressed that day well all these months, but he couldn't forget it. Deeply it had been burned into his mind; he had planned so much for that day, had wanted to surprise Heahmund. But all he had gotten was an ice-cold breakup on the grounds that he hadn't been sure how he felt. And it had been Ivar's hate day ever since - never again would he feel good about Valentine's Day, and was already planning to poison happy couples in the park. He hadn't been able to explain to his mother why he had cried constantly through two weeks, and why he had hardly eaten anything in the evenings. Even his other, almost terroristic brothers had sensed something, and had left him alone that week.

"All right. You're right. The last time I saw him was a while ago, anyway," Ivar said, letting Hvitserk help him to his feet; and it wasn't until he was standing that he grinned slightly as Hvitserk's warm hand passed lightly over his shoulder.

"Exactly. He's probably grown fat, and much older. You won't recognize him if you ever meet again - unless Gandalf the Grey is suddenly standing in front of you on the dance floor, asking you for a drink."

For a moment the brothers stared at each other, then they both snorted and laughed. It was painful, yes - especially because it was the first time he had been truly in love. But it had to go on, and somehow Hvitserk was right - even if most of his suggestions and advice ended up with having sex with someone somewhere. Ivar took one last look outside before following Hvitserk into the kitchen; the streets outside were almost deserted, and the lightning of thunderstorms could be seen behind the city's skyscrapers. Oh, how Ivar loved autumn.

#modern au #heavar #how to deal with breakups #fanfic #vikings

[kitacco]

happy ending.

pairing: gn!reader, kita shinsuke (timeskip).

genre: angst, with a little fluff.

summary: what defines a happy ending?

cw: haikyuu spoilers..

wordcount: 3k.

high school relationships rarely lasted, your mother had always told you that. you were aware, everytime you wrapped your arms around your boyfriend and kissed his cheek, you wished on the stars that your relationship would be that rare one.

it wasn’t.

the memory never left your mind, even after five years. you and kita announcing your polar destinies the night of graduation, the night you thought would be the start of a beautiful love story. you don’t blame him, neither does kita blame you. what kind of love would the two of you have for each other if you tried to force your dreams on the other?

he kissed you goodbye that night, and told you he hoped to see your dreams come true.

years passed and you’d finally graduated university. with a degree and an internship under your belt, kita and the heartbreak was long forgotten. still, you hadn’t found anybody like him yet. like you’d told him once, you were living in the big city. you’d constantly tell him how much you dreamt of the big city, living and working in tokyo was a goal you fantasized with since you were at least thirteen. the idea of leaving everything behind and becoming unstoppable - because that’s what being from the city would give you, you thought; endless opportunities and a stable, extravagant life. kita only smiled, every single time. you don’t understand how could you’ve been so stupid to completely miss the intent behind his gleaming eyes, nodding to your every word, to everything you promised to accomplish. tokyo was your dream, though, and before you could realize, kita had made it clear for you to see.

even though you wished you could completely forget kita (you’d never tell him that, or acknowledge it yourself), his old classmates were a constant reminder of his existence you wished to forget. you knew some of them would follow the same crazy dream you had, still, you wished the city was big enough that you wouldn’t have to encounter them, ever. 

of course, you were unlucky enough to find yourself under atsumu’s arms, the man approaching you in a coffee shop. you’d seen him already, but you decided to ignore him because you knew exactly what he’d say. plus, wasn’t that the purpose of growing up?

“so, how’s kita?”

you don’t know if you’re glad kita didn’t tell them about your breakup, or just accept the fact those things were personal for him. either way, you’d found yourself in a situation you couldn’t avert.

“i don’t know, haven’t seen him since graduation.”

that seems to shake atsumu, stopping on his tracks as he followed you out of the store, “you guys haven’t talked to each other?”

“we broke up long ago, atsumu, but it’s fine,” you sigh, taking a sip of your coffee. “we had different ruotes that’s all.”

“yeah but, long distance could’ve worked, you guys were soulmates.”

were you? you used to think the same. guess the idea was denied by you the moment kita suggested your breakup. which brought you to the idea: did he not feel the same anymore? you decided it was way too late to reminisce on it, not wanting to open already healed wounds, and remember things you wish you hadn’t done.

atsumu knew the truth, though. kita had mentioned it once, and he happened to catch on it while the team left the school on their last reunion with the third years. kita casually wondered if you both were to go your separate ways, wouldn’t he hold you back?

atsumu knew you guys had broken up the night after, but still, he had a little hope that kita perhaps would realize that being selfish in situations like that wasn’t bad. of course, at the time atsumu didn’t understand it, because, as a kid, he thought love was stronger than anything, and what you two had could and should never be destroyed. now, a few years have passed, and when he sees you, a completely different person than you were while you were in school, atsumu understands what kita was trying to do.

“so, have you met someone new then?”

such a simple question that had so many different answers.

yes, you had tried talking with a ton of other people. at parties, college, work, anywhere. you’d often go on blind dates, with guys that would invite you on dates, double dates, anything. tagging along friends and accepting whatever random friend your friend’s partners would like to introduce you to. you could say you were still a child at heart, or maybe you were still not over your high school love. you couldn’t admit, though, being almost twenty four and you were still not over your ex? that was insane.

“not really, too busy with work,” you decide to answer, hoping atsumu changes the topic. “what about you?”

“same, the city is quite hectic, and so is work,” atsumu chuckles, probably remembering something funny. “girls are pretty hard to get around here.”

that makes you smile too, “would’ve never guessed you were having trouble in the love department, doesn’t being an athlete come with a bunch of girls that find you attractive?”

“not enough to put up with certain things, though,” atsumu’s tone is suddenly serious. “love isn’t that easy.”

yeah, you know that.

“well, since i met you after so long, it would be rude of me if i didn’t invite you to my little get together i’m having for my birthday this weekend.”

you’re taken aback. even though you and kita dated for a long time, and were very much acquainted with the volleyball team, you and atsumu never had that kind of relationship. you also thought for the longest time that atsumu disliked your personality, kita always trying to tell you he was just too intense for you. still, you smile, nodding your head. it wouldn’t hurt, right?

being completely honest, never in your head you thought could meet someone unexpected. you knew atsumu would’ve most likely kept in contact with at least half the high school team, still, being adults wasn’t all fun, and work was inevitable. everyone was busy, and probably far away - that’s what you thought. you were proved wrong when you patiently waited for the door of the apartment to open, and none other than atsumu’s twin opened the door for you, eyes widening at your sight, almost as if you shouldn’t be there.

just like atsumu, osamu asks you everything about your life that’s happened to you since you graduated school, still, avoiding the topic that you were worriedly waiting for it to be brought up. to your luck, it wasn’t.

would’ve been your luck, or the fact osamu knew exactly why he shouldn’t bring it up?

you don’t have time to think about it, as you advance inside the flat, a drink in hand and a polite smile on your face to the unknown people in the place. it wasn’t too crowded, probably only 20 people were there, not many familiar faces but ones you genuinely weren’t expecting to see, like suna, aran, osamu, and members of atsumu’s professional team you genuinely didn’t know, nor wanted to know, honestly. you were being nice, for the most part, grateful for atsumu’s invitation, whilst in your head you continued to count the time until enough hours had passed and you could say sorry, got work for tomorrow. however, there was no time for that, losing the count on your head when an extremely familiar grey haired man walked across the room.

“it’s nice to see you again.”

you take a few minutes to answer, still in shock. kita is standing next to you on the balcony. he’d seen you long ago, the moment osamu opened the door for you. still, he decided to give it a few minutes before approaching you, knowing it wouldn’t be as easy as a hello.

kita is as quiet as always, and the look on his face hasn’t changed since the last time you saw him, although you can tell he’s changed. you wished you could say he was the same guy you’d loved for the entirety of high school, but surely, kita was unreadable to you, a complete stranger.

“i-i wasn’t expecting to see you here,” you confess, finally speaking up.

he smiles, eyes still lost in the traffic under the building, the honking of cars and loud noises keeping the atmosphere thin, otherwise, it wouldn’t be easy to continue this conversation, if you could call it one yet, “me neither, i assume atsumu kept this a secret from the both of us.”

you scoff with a smile that cannot reach your eyes, because you know what atsumu wants, and what he expects from this planned, unplanned encounter he’s created. but it doesn’t work that way, and later in the night you learn that.

“how’s your life going?” you quietly ask, instantly regretting it. it’s not that you didn’t care, it’s just that it hurt to remember, suddenly that last night you saw kita playing in your head. “i should apologize—”

“don’t, we were young and you were hurt, i should’ve thought my words better.”

“no, i was wrong, for looking over your dreams,” you mutter, heart tugging. “i think i wasn’t ready to say goodbye.”

the confession is left in the air, for the both of you to repeat inside your minds. kita doesn’t respond, and you’re not sure if you want him to or not. either way, seeing kita again wasn’t going the way you’d always dreamt it would, suddenly the reality falling over your shoulders heavier than what you’d wanted, “i should go.”

“i’ll walk you home,” kita instantly says, turning around to follow you, hand almost reaching out for yours to hold.

you can hear your heart beating like when you were a kid. kita would always walk you home after school, no matter how tired or how busy he was. he always put you first, and now you’ve realized you not only took that for granted, but also started to believe kita would genuinely do anything for you. 

you never thought there would be an exception for the rule.

“it’s fine, i wouldn’t want to ruin atsumu’s birthday like that,” you chuckle, trying to ease the atmosphere.

“one last time,” kita whispers in the night, making you jolt. “let me do it one last time.”

it’s quiet, despite the busy streets, the both of you walk in silence, keeping a safe distance between the two of you. you’re unable to bring up any topic of conversation or form any question, a lump in your throat constantly growing. you’re curious too, about his life, what he’s doing, what was so important for him to give up on the two of you. it’s selfish, you don’t want to accept it but deep inside you know, and you hate yourself for having the same thoughts you did the night kita told you he wanted to stay in hyōgo to become a rice farmer. you thought it was stupid, to say the least, and you started questioning his love for you. because he'd always heard you talk about tokyo and your plans of coming to the big city as much as your wish to stay by his side even after school, so then, why’d he break up with you after telling you your paths were parting? if he genuinely loved you, wouldn’t he make an effort to prove it?

“let it go,” kita suddenly says, making you face him, confused. “i know what you’re thinking, it’s not worth it.”

“what am i thinking?”

“about that night.”

you sadly reach your place, a building as tall as atsumu’s, but surely not as spacious. the two of you stand there for a few seconds, as if waiting for the other to speak up your mind.

“you can come in, if you want,” you mutter, avoiding his eyes.

kita smiles, nodding his head. “it’d be a pleasure.”

luckily you’re a neat person, opening the door to your apartment and stepping inside it before kita to make sure there wasn’t anything out of place. you knew how observing kita was, and even though you knew he wouldn’t nag at you to be cleaner, he’d surely giggle at the fact you were still as messy as you were in high school. but you’re not, and kita confirms that as he rapidly eyes your place.

“it’s really nice.”

“yeah, i can’t complain,” you answer, making your way to the kitchen. “do you want tea?”

“water is okay,” kita answers, taking a seat in your coach.

you genuinely don’t know what the two of you are doing. sitting on the couch, separated by a gap you purposely made, which makes kita smile, because, suddenly you’re acting like you’re fifteen again, and even if you don’t believe it, kita wishes he could go back in time and enjoy those moments again. because tonight everything will go back to normal.

“kita, i really want to apologize for what i said that night,” you start again, and kita clears his throat, raising a hand for you to stop.

“don’t apologize for words you don’t regret.”

“i do! i regret everything i said!” you cry, knowing kita can still read through you, yet you’re unable to anymore. 

“you don’t have to, either, your thoughts were valid, and maybe i should’ve chosen another moment to break up with you. i ended up hurting you,“ kita looks at you, big gleaming eyes as the light of the moon illuminates his face in contrast to the faint warm light lighting up the room. “still, i don’t regret the decision i took that night, that’s why, it’d be unfair to put the blame on you.”

and like that night, your heart breaks again. kita is smiling as the words leave his mouth, as if he was proud of it. once again, the anger you felt that night rushes through you, and the scene repeats itself.

“why’d you do it?” you whisper, voice faltering. “it doesn’t make sense.”

“because i love you.”

the words don’t seem to go through your head, blinded by the hurt in your heart. “no you don’t, you never did otherwise you’d fought for us.”

“there was nothing to fight for, i wasn’t gonna stand between you and your dreams, i couldn’t bring myself to do such thing.”

“you didn’t have to!” you lament, standing up from your seat as your heart beats frantically. “we could’ve been together but you didn’t want to! you could’ve just told me you didn’t love me anymore instead of making me cry over stupid words all these years, still holding into the hope of you loving me.”

“i do love you,” kita repeats again, but he knows you’re not listening, and he knows you’re hurting too.

“we could’ve kept it long distance! we could’ve called each other at nights, texted in the day, visited each other every once in a while, kita, it’s only six hours! it’s not like i was completely off the planet, yet you decided to end it like it was nothing! you gave up before we could fight!”

“because i love you!” kita raises his voice, and you yelp, eyes finally meeting his. he approaches you gently, hands grabbing at your sides as he keeps you in place. “i love you so much i didn’t want to stop you from living your dreams.”

“that’s not fair, you don’t get to decide what was better for me.”

“i was in love enough to know i didn’t want to hurt you,” he insists, and you sigh.

“you’re not making any sense, didn’t it go through your head that maybe leaving would hurt me more?”

“it’d be only for that time, look at you now, you’re successful, living in your dream city and living your dream life, staying with me would’ve only brought you pain.”

“what pain, kita! i don’t understand what pain you’re—”

“what would’ve happened if we stayed together? traveling every once in a while, unable to see each other but from our phones, the two of us busy with two completely different lives, what would’ve happened? what kind of life would that have been? the both of us having to leave something behind to keep a love that at the end would still falter?”

“you don’t know that—”

“we’d end up hurting each other more than that night,” kita mutters, indiscreetly wrapping his arms around your shoulders.

your face was damp, drowned in tears, yet you were so distracted by kita’s words you hadn’t noticed your sobbing. kita’s heart continued to beat under your warmth, his fingers barely moving in your back for you to let it out, because he knew how much it’s been hurting you all these years - or just realizing that now.

“what now, then?” you mumble against his chest, and he looks down at you. “what are we supposed to do now?”

kita waves both of his hands at you from inside the train, that smile never leaving his face. the tears continue to fall from your eyes, and your body continues to shake, unable to quiet down your sobbing. but you’re not crying because you’re sad.

kita’s heart tugs at his chest, pointing at your wrist on the other side of the tracks. you look down, wrapping your fingers around your wrist decorated by the bracelet kita had given you the night of graduation, the one that, in your hurt, you’d thrown back at him, refusing to accept it. to your surprise, kita held onto for so long, hoping to one day give it to you again, and for you to finally keep it.

you’re not crying because you’re sad, you assure kita that.

you cry because, even though it’s still hard, you can understand why kita would do all this.

you understand why kita was willing to give up his love for you.

the train starts moving, the doors long closed, and kita sends you one last smile, eyes closing so he doesn’t have to see your tears as the last image of you, in his head, only picturing the bright eyes you made when he clasped the bracelet around your wrist.

“my biggest dream was you.”

#kita x reader #kita scenarios #kita shinsuke fluff #kita shinsuke x reader #kita angst #kita shinsuke angst #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu angst #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu spoilers #kitacco!

[serenasoutherlyns]

Not a Summer Crush Part Five

a/n: i haven't been doing this on purpose, but i keep alternating, long chapter followed by short chapter. i think the longest is 6k words and this one is 2.5k-ish, my apologies for its shortness. but!! this one has everyone's favorite Rita Calhoun, jealousy, Serena Southerlyn's meddling tactics, middle school, and even graduate school. enjoy, and remember any feedback is appreciated more than you all could ever know.

Part Five

When Alex got home from work that evening, she finally had a moment to process that day’s moment on the courthouse steps. She texted Serena, trying to fit all the pieces together in her head.

Alex: What the hell?

Serena: ?

Alex: Serena!

Serena: Yes?

She gave up on coherent texting and decided to call her friend instead.

---

Casey was confusing herself again. Having second thoughts was not how she would put it. No, she was still sure of what she wanted (as sure as she was going to be, doing something very new and all), it was the methods that were bothering her. Namely, that she felt like she had none.

Alex had been difficult early on. The beginning was, in most respects, the most difficult time of their relationship. They had both been in rough patches, trying to be different people than they’d been before, and Casey thought, hoped, they’d both been successful. Alex had found a sense of balance and justice that guided her to powerful places. And Casey could look around her life and point lots of little things out: the tennis racquet beside her softball bat, their well-stocked kitchen, the literary journals lined up in a row on her bookshelf, little markers of stability and self-assuredness that reminded her how she’d changed and stayed the same over the years. She hadn’t felt this untethered since she kissed Alex for the first time.

“Casey, it’s called having a crush,” Rita said after she explained herself over a scotch.

---

“What’s going on, Alex?” Serena’s voice came over the speakerphone as Alex set it down on the countertop.

“Do you want to tell me why you asked my second chair out on the courthouse steps in the middle of the afternoon on a Wednesday?”

Serena laughed at her. “I don’t think I did,” she said.

“Hey, Caroline,” Alex mocked Serena’s slightly husky voice, “Won’t you please reserve me a spot on your dance card this weekend?” She said as she popped the cork out of a bottle of wine with an angry pop as punctuation.

“I don’t talk like that,” Serena said. “And all I did was tell her I wanted to dance, I don’t think I asked her for anything, in fact.”

“I don’t remember it like that.”

“So it’s on your mind, huh.”

“Shut up.”

“Oh my god.” Alex thought of what to say as she sipped.

“I mean,” Serena filled the silence, “If you aren’t going to, I will, you know?”

“Serena!” Alex all but yelled into the phone.

“Uh-huh,” she replied, “that’s what I thought.” She paused for a moment, then said, “I wasn’t

asking her out, I was giving you a reason to go dancing with her again.

“I don’t follow.”

“Sure you don’t. Look, I’ll make a groupchat with you, Casey, me and Caroline, and make plans in there, thus implying that all of us are going. It’s simple.”

“What?” Alex asked, actually not following her friend at this point.

“Just let it happen, Lex. Where is Casey, anyway?”

Alex swirled her wine around. “Rita absconded with her after work today. She said it was something about a case.”

“I don’t think they’re opposing one another on anything right now,” Serena said.

“I’ve learned not to ask questions,” Alex said, referencing the schemes Rita and her wife liked to pull occasionally. Then, realizing what she might be implying, she said, “Remember Sophie’s birthday last year?” and was answered with Serena’s light laugh from the other end of the call.

---

Casey’s eyes widened. “Yeah, I guess so.” Rita was surprised that Casey didn’t fight her on it. She decided to push.

“So, when are you going to ask her out?” Casey looked at her.

“We haven’t like, set a date,” she said. “Do people usually set dates for that kind of thing?

“They usually have a plan of some kind, I think. I mean, I do.”

Rita’s phone buzzed three times, two texts and a photo from Pippa. She didn’t hide her nerves fast enough for Casey to miss it. She shot her friend a look over her glass, saying, “you have a plan, right?”

Rita rolled her eyes. “Stop deflecting.” This time it was Casey’s turn to get the notifications.

New Groupchat (4)

Serena: So, Saturday night, right? Where?

Caroline: Why don’t you meet me at my apartment? The place is kind of hard to find.

Serena: Works for me. Alex? Casey?

Casey had no idea what the texts were about, suspected Serena of some kind of scheme.

Casey: Sure? But what are we doing?

Serena: Dancing!

Caroline: Dancing. Ashley’s on the road so I needed another partner.

Alex: We’re going dancing on Saturday.

Casey looked up from her phone to find an expectant Rita looking at her. “Apparently, I’m going dancing on Saturday.

“With Caroline?”

“And Alex. And Serena.”

Rita smiled wryly. “Good luck.”

---

“Okay, okay, order, order,” you said quieting the room of middle schoolers at the end of practice. “Remember, I can’t be there with you this weekend at the competition, and I have to leave early tonight,” you said, to a chorus of sighs, “I know, I know, I’m sorry. But you’ll all do great, I know it. Listen to your teachers, stick to your plans, and do your best.” The adoring eyes of the team were all on you. “And, if you win, I’ll buy you pizza. Deal?”

Nothing motivates tweens like a pizza party, but you weren’t worried about their performance. If nothing else, you knew Ophélie was a zealous team captain, putting it delicately. She had learned to be persistent from you, which was great at a competition, more annoying when she had chores. You gave her a quick hug and kiss on the cheek as you said goodbye to the team, despite her “no affection in public rule” (because the nature of the adolescent is to be embarrassed), and sent a text to Casey letting her know you’d be out soon.

When you saw her waiting for you outside the school building, your heart skipped a beat. It was that same feeling that you’d felt when Alex was in your apartment-- an intimacy that should’ve felt unusual, out of place, instead felt perfectly natural and comfortable. You hugged in greeting, grateful that you’d all decided that would be acceptable affection for colleagues.

“You know,” you said, “You really didn’t have to come meet me here.” Casey shrugged.

“I wanted to. Nice sweater,” she said, teasing you. It was one of those summer evenings where the sunset had brought a cool breeze with it, and you’d stolen one of Ophélie’s uniform cardigans. It was simple and navy blue, but the school logo embroidered on the breast gave it away. The two of you walked together towards the nearest subway station.

“Thanks,” you said, in an unserious tone. “Where’s Alex?”

“She’s already at the bar,” Casey replied, “I was told to retrieve you before the announcement.”

“It can’t be any big surprise,” you said, wondering. “She’s been agonizing over these applications forever.”

“She’s Gillian. She agonizes.” You looked up at the buildings, lights beginning to come on in the apartment buildings and off in the offices. Casey looked at your lifted head and the way it created a line, sloping and elegant, jawline to neck to collarbone. She pushed one palm with the opposite thumb and bit her lip, thinking about her conversation with Rita. She was right, they needed a plan, or one of these days she was going to kiss you without thinking.

Your voice snapped her out of it, but she didn’t hear what you said. “Casey?”

“Sorry, what?”

“I asked if you were excited to come dancing again this weekend.” The two of you walked down the stairs to the subway station, you in front, looking over your shoulder as Casey answered you.

“Oh! Yes, I definitely am. I didn’t know that Serena could dance, Alex told me it was her idea.”

“Apparently she studied abroad. I’m glad she asked, though.” That gave the knot of jealousy in Casey’s stomach a tug. She had no right to be jealous, but she couldn’t help but feel it. Serena is beautiful, and single, she doesn’t work with them, she’s super smart and funny, and apparently she knows how to dance.

“I’m glad we’ll have enough people to switch up partners a couple times,” Casey said, assuaging the jealousy.

“That’s the best part,” you agreed.

---

You made it to the table just in time to hear the announcement.

The third announcement. It would appear that Rita had somehow gotten ahold on all of Gillian’s acceptance letters and was withholding them from the rest of the group (except, of course, for the honoree herself, who was happy to go along with the plan, not that she had much of a choice). Glasses were raised and congratulations expressed as Rita said, “the third acceptance is… Yale!”

Polite applause came around the table. Gillian smiled bashfully as everyone told her how proud they were. Of all of you, she was the only person smart enough (or crazy enough) to go back to school after navigating the complex legal world of New York City.

“Which ones did we miss?” Casey said as the two of you slid into the two open seats.

“She got into Columbia,” Serena said, “which means she could stay in Manhattan. A few glasses around the table were raised again, encouraging her to stay close.

“And Stanford,” Alex added. You shot Gillian an excited look, happy at the mention of your alma mater.

“How many more letters are there?” You asked. Rita checked the pile of envelopes in her hand.

“Two.”

As soon as Sophie noticed that neither you nor Casey yet had a drink, there were whiskeys in your hands. As soon as Serena remembered that you were returning from coaching a mock trial team, and remembering what she knew of Casey’s feelings about kids, she began to ask you questions. How was the team, what case are they presenting, do they love you, (truly who wouldn’t). She was almost tiring you out.

“Is she always this persistent?” you asked Alex, smiling at Serena as you did so. You had to know if your eyes were deceiving you, your wishful thinking getting the best of your powers of observation yesterday when you saw her jealous look.

You were correct.

Almost faster than could be perceived, Alex’s eyes narrowed, looking into Serena’s, not yours; as if to say what the hell are you doing. Raised shoulders, her fingers pressing slightly into the table, her tongue in the back of her throat: you’d seen enough jealous boyfriends (of women you were about to dance with, if you’re honest) in clubs to know what it looked like.

Well. That was going to be good information to have at your disposal. If nothing else, for

confirmation: that you weren’t crazy, that there was something there to notice, from both of them.

---

You would’ve considered your offer of your apartment more thoroughly had you initially understood that there would be four of you going out that Saturday night. You weren’t sure, at first, if Serena had been asking you out. Honestly, you would probably not turn her down if she did. It would certainly be a simpler path to take, and there was no denying that Serena was beautiful and smart. Of course, your affections were otherwise engaged.

But, since she had invited Casey and Alex along, you considered it more likely that she was “creating some amount of opportunity,” (a real thing you’d really heard her say once) than making a double date. It would make sense, you thought, if Alex had told her how she was feeling; and the more days that went by, the more little tender interactions, the more often you noticed her resting her eyes in your direction, the more confident you were that you weren’t making up the chemistry.

Casey was a little harder to read, but you had noticed she’d seemed slightly… preoccupied the last few times you’d been alone together. One thing you knew: their marriage was rock solid. Neither of them would do something without the others’ approval. You could only hope they had a plan. You didn’t-- unless trying to seem as desirable yet appropriate as possible could be considered a plan.

There were four people in your apartment. You couldn’t remember the last time you had people over to your place rather than Ashley and Ramin’s, so it felt especially cramped. You were each drinking a glass of wine (from Ramin’s fancy stash, you were not going to let them know just yet that the only wine you bought was two buck chuck), you and Serena were sitting on the barstools at your counter while Alex and Casey sat on the couch. You had your music collection on shuffle, which led to a few laughs at the funny combinations.

It was your turn to feel jealous, or maybe to yearn. You hoped that one of them would see the new collection of books sitting on your table: Marriage and Other Alternatives, More Than Two, and What Love Is (and what it could be). A quiet buzz of anticipation (or was it the wine?) pleasantly lodged itself in your mind as the four of you slung your bags over your shoulders and headed out for the night.

---

Pippa Cox touched her lipstick up in the mirror before returning to the table she was (finally) sharing with Rita Calhoun. For such a smart woman, Pippa had often thought, Rita was prone to running from her feelings. Having gotten her on this date was a feat indeed, even though she knew (the glances, the blushing, the way she would drift into her space, natural as anything) that they shared feelings. As Pippa sat down, Rita smiled.

Unfortunately, as Rita reached for her glass, her phone buzzed in her purse. She shrugged-- what was the point of texting when she was on a date? If it was a client, they would call her secretary who would call her. No need to fret.

“It’s nothing, I’m sure,” she said, reaching across the table to take Pippa’s hand in her own. She knew how difficult it had been for her to get back into dating, to trust anyone with her heart, which was part of why she had been so apprehensive to pursue her even though the attraction was there. She’d pinched herself when Pippa had been the one to ask, happy to be the pursued for once.

“Good,” Pippa said, “because I want you to myself tonight.” Rita nodded, bit her lip, and smiled. There was another buzz, then another, then another. Three in a row? The only people she knew who texted like that were Casey and Serena, both of whom had plans tonight.

Plans together, with Alex. Involving Caroline. She sighed, hoping that she wasn’t about to do something to hurt Pippa’s feelings. Pippa, to her credit, looked curiously at Rita’s bag as she opened it.

Notifications: 4 new messages.

Serena: This experience is simultaneously adorable and infuriating.

Serena sent a photo.

Serena sent a video.

Serena: I’m tempted to leave and let them figure it out.

Rita laughed to herself. The picture was a selfie of you four sitting at a booth, you and Alex on one side and Casey and Serena on the other. Serena had her head leaned on Casey’s shoulder, who looking across the table, while you were pressing a kiss to Alex’s cheek. Alex had a contented smile, and your table had evidence of more than a couple drinks for each of you. The video was one of you and Alex. You were holding one of her hands with the other wrapped around her waist. Alex looked terrified, poor thing, every body part was flying in the opposite direction. The sounds of Casey and Serena encouraging you both mixed with the horns and drums coming from the stage. Rita agreed with Serena, it was adorable and infuriating.

Rita: Well, that’s cute and maddening for sure.

Serena: I’ll send updates.

Rita: Tomorrow. Please don’t interrupt *my* date again, thank you.

Serena: OMG did she finally ask you out!?!??

Rita: TOMORROW.

Rita put her phone down, answering Pippa’s curious look with a wave of her hand. “Serena drama,” she said, and Pippa gave an understanding nod. “I made her promise to leave me alone for a while.” Pippa leant across the table and pecked Rita’s lips.

“Good.”

---

tags: @addictedtodinosaurs @nocreditinthestraightworld @cmmndrwidw @hi-i-1 @lesbianologist

#There you have it folks #maybe one day this will be finished #svu fanfic #law and order svu #not a summer crush #Serena southerlyn #Rita Calhoun #casey Novak #Alex cabot #Calex #Alex cabot x reader #casey Novak x reader #Alex cabot x casey Novak x reader #“Serena drama” ok Rita #god this was hard to write I don’t even know why #forgive typos #no beta we die like men

[thedaddie]

Hello Abbie!! I saw that your matchups are open and i was wondering if i would request one :)

My name is Elena (she/her) and though im bisexual id like to be paired with a boy. Im a taurus, an infj, im also 175cm tall and have brown eyes, i too have brown shoulder length hair and have an athletic body type (but i only occasionally work out) im the girl on my profile pic for reference

I love travelling a lot, im actually a tourism student, and my dream is to travel to as many places as possible, i also love baking, going on walks, visiting museums and galleries, playing card games, petting animals, learning about history and art, trying different foods and laughing. Im a very sensitive and empathetic person who is always trying to make those around her feel happy and nice, im very independent too but i like spending time with people, i also have a huuuge crackhead side and love memes and jokes, i too have a deep sense of justice and id say im an ambivert because my way of acting changes on the vibes of the environment

Neway, i hope this was enough for the matchup but if not please feel free to message me!! Im also open for chatting anytime :) i hope you have a great upcoming weekend and please hydrate yourself and stay safe <3

hi elena! you are so sweet 🥲 thanks for requesting! i match you with…

NISHINOYA YUU

this pairing 😍😍😍😍😍

ok so you guys met in high school

it was total love at first sight on noya’s part

for you it… took a bit

yknow you can be loud too but noya is LOUD

so you kinda brushed him off at first, assuming that it was a school crush and it would die out

and it obviously never did 😃

he would walk you to class, offer to hold your bag, buy you snacks

he just adored everything about you from your height (considering you’re taller than him you know he is OBSESSED) to your eyes

and eventually he convinced you to come to his game

needless to say you were impressed so you asked him if he wanted to hang out after and the rest is history :)

once you guys graduated, you traveled all around the world together!!

from other parts of asia to north + south america, there was almost no place you guys haven’t been

but noya’s favorite place has always been europe :)

he considers you his perfect travel partner, as you always immerse yourself completely in your destination

and you consider him your perfect travel partner because he always stops to let you pet cats in the streets </3

he cherishes quiet walks throughout museums and art galleries, when he can calm down and just appreciate being there with you

the second you turn your back, he’ll always immediately eat up whatever you bake

you’ve never seen a dozen cookies disappear so fast 😟

plus he’s surprisingly a master at card games??? like he beats you almost every time (and you know that mf brags)

no one can be around you guys and NOT laugh, it’s impossible

so now onto your zodiacs and personality types

as an INFJ, you are generally more reserved and organized while noya, an ESFP, is not.

despite your differences, with proper listening skills (noya) and open mindedness (you), your relationship will work out perfectly!!

now with a taurus and an aries, you guys have the ability to form a stable and trusting connection with one another. because of your zodiac combination, your relationship has a lot of positive energy and you share an open agreement on honesty

however if you want to succeed as a couple, you need to put aside your differences and make the effort to understand one another

in the end, you really gave him an appreciation for the little things. you can both be loud and rowdy, but the quiet moments sitting in a rented house in some random countryside, playing cards and eating home baked goods, nothing else can compare 😌

—

moodboard:

“two,”

a windchime twinkles just outside the window. a cool breeze blows the thin curtains inside the house, flowing air causing goosebumps to rise on your arm.

“go fish,”

noya sighs, grabbing another card from the deck between you. his face flashes with excitement quickly and you snicker; he has a terrible poker face.

obviously, there were more complicated card games to play, but right now, after a day full of wandering around the little italian town you were staying in, both of you wanted the simplicity.

you take your turn, collecting yet another 7 when he says go fish. just one more to complete a set!

noya scans over his cards, his brown eyes meeting yours with a quirk of his eyebrow.

“seven”

you tut, collecting the valuable cards from your deck and sliding them over with a groan.

noya leans back in his chair, sweeping up his glass of wine. you roll your eyes as he slaps down all four 7 cards onto the table, a cocky smirk on his face.

“keep up that confidence,” you say, scowling playfully. “i will destroy you.”

—

song(s) for your matchup :)

thanks again for requesting Elena!! you’re so beautiful btw! hope you enjoyed and have a nice day 😊

#haikyuu imagines #hq anime #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #🌷matchups #hq drabbles #hq headcanons #haikyuu matchups #hq matchups #hq noya #haikyuu nishinoya #nishinoya headcanons #hq fluff

[belovasangel]

Kintsugi

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!GN!Reader

WC: 1641

Summary: Peter needs a push to help an old ally.

Warnings: Swearing, ANGST, hopeful ending

A/N: First off, thank you for reading this. I haven’t written in maybe a year so this might be not the best. I want to shout out Polaroid15 for inspiring me to write. Something else in this fic I should mention, Peter’s identity isn’t exposed and in the Blip he aged according to current-time (so in this he is 18-19)

“In Japanese culture, Kintsugi is the reformative art to repair broken pottery. The shattered pieces are taken and glued back together with a binding agency and gold paint. There is a metaphor between each crack and gold stroke, as the meaning is deeper than restoring a pot. It’s meant to give hope and to empower those who are deemed ‘broken.’ The point is to tell people to embrace their insecurities and you will be okay in the end.”

Peter Parker rolled his eyes and looked back at his notes. The background film of his art history course droned on, as the school stuck the Blipped students into a course to graduate faster. He began to doodle along the sides of the pages, drawing the Spider-Man suit and a few webs. He thought of Ned, sitting on his MIT campus, working on his computer engineering software, and hoped he was thinking of Peter as well. Him and Ned made a pact back in freshman year to attend MIT together and when the Blip hit, Ned kept his promise. And at this rate, Peter will be in their dorm room by March. 

He looked back up at the lecture briefly to watch the credits roll, only to notice afterwards the teacher had fallen asleep at the desk. The other students got the same idea to pack up and leave for the weekend early. Peter began stuffing his notes in his backpack and stood to walk out, only to bump into a fast body.

“Hey-” 

Peter looked up, his backpack falling to the floor in a heavy heap. He looked up angrily, fully expecting Flash to be staring back, however he saw the red-faced (Y/N) staring back with doe eyes. “Peter, I am so sorry...” 

He huffed and shoved (Y/N) back with his shoulder to grab his stuff. “You can leave, ya know? Don’t need to watch me pick up the mess you made.” He audibly heard them gulp and quicken their breathing. With a quick shuffle, they walked out of the class. Peter stood quickly and recalled the events leading to their icy encounter. He can feel sympathetic towards them, as Mr. Stark passed away tragically about a year ago. While Peter has come to terms painfully with his death, he can tell (Y/N) still is struggling. He knows they had a plan to attend Yale or Stanford after this, but those plans have derailed fully. Peter knew (Y/N) wasn’t fully ready to accept they need to grow up and move on. He wouldn’t be the one to put gasoline on an already erupting fire. Hopefully Pepper can say something

He began walking down the halls of the school, remembering the small memories along the halls. Lifting the lockers during Homecoming to get his suit, him and Ned discussing the plans to build the Death Star, and even when MJ first opened her locker next to the two (and immediately asked, “what are you two losers looking at?”). Fond, fond memories. 

Peter hopped on the subway, getting minorly excited to begin patrolling the city. May has plans tonight, he hopes it’s a date so he can spy once or twice, but overall it’s sitting on buildings and eating those amazing subs. The moment Peter stepped into the apartment, May was on him. “Hey, my beautiful boy genius, how was school?”

He laughed as she kissed and pinched his cheeks. “Hey May. It was fine, boring. How are you, need any date prep?” She turned bright red and looked back to the newspaper. “Peter, I told you it’s not a date. Happy and I are-”

“Your date is with Happy?” Peter popped his backpack to the floor with a quick thump. May gave a sheepish look, fully expecting this from him. “Peter I promise you, Happy is super kind and is going to treat me great tonight.”

He sighed, pulling at his hair minorly. “Do I need to chaperone you?” She laughed and shook her head, “we’ll be fine Pete. Anyways, to change the subject, Pepper called you earlier and asked for you to swing by the Tower when you get a chance.” Peter nodded, head still foggy with holy fuck, Happy is going to get with my Aunt.

He gave her a quick kiss on the forehead and ran to his room, changing into his suit and flopping out the window. Within the first few hours, Peter stopped three guys from breaking into cars, saved a cat from a tree and rescued an old lady from oncoming traffic. As the sun was setting, and Peter got to enjoy the sunset with his sub, he decided to call Pepper.

“Hey Pep, what’s going on?”

He could hear her sigh on the other side, and he took a bite in anticipation. “I need your help Peter. And I know you won’t like it.” With a mouthful of spinach, salami and bread, he said muffled, “you can count on me.”

“I need you to help (Y/N).” Peter promptly spit his sub out of his mouth with a sharp cough and inhale. “What? What’s wrong?” Pepper sighed again. “(Y/N) isn’t okay. They’re only leaving their room for school and that’s it. I deliver them breakfast and dinner, we barely talk between the doors. Plus they come home late every night and I need to know what’s going on.”

Peter bit his inner cheek. Of course (Y/N) is being selfish towards Pepper, seems about right. Peter felt like this was a sign, to finally see what’s going on and help Pepper reconnect with her kid. Yet, Peter didn’t want to give (Y/N) any slack. They’re being rude and not grateful for what they have. “Of course, Pepper. I’ll keep you posted. Does K.A.R.E.N. have her location?”

“No, she turned off her location a while ago. Thank you Peter.” He nodded, knowing she couldn’t see. With a quick end, he threw the mask on and dove off the crane. He searched every alley in all of Queens, ever corner store, checked every rooftop and park and bridge and under every car. He found a huge ass tree and even climbed it. Peter didn’t want to let Pepper down, even if he felt more and more annoyed with (Y/N). He knew they wouldn’t leave the city, but this was getting ridiculous. Eventually, around 11:30 P.M., he found them sitting in front of a large mural of Tony. There were flowers along the painting, along with lit candles and teddy bears. Peter felt his blood boiling, knowing they could have had their location on this whole time. 

“What the fuck are you doing (Y/N)? Pepper is besides herself worried. You’re being so fucking selfish, leaving her alone every damn night. She is suffering, wondering why her own child won’t talk to her while you’re out here hiding! What are you scared of? Why can’t you grow up? He died! Get over it!”

Peter creeped up closer and closer to them, not listening to the sniffling and heaving breaths of (Y/N). As he reached them, he saw they were hunched over and panting. “What’s wrong? Get up,” Peter sneered as he pulled their shoulder back. He let out a gasp and let go, in complete shock of what he saw. Their face was littered with bruises and cuts. Their right eye was completely swollen and the under eye bags were as dark as the sky. “Are you okay?”

They scoffed and pushed away Peter’s hand, and struggled to get off the ground. Many groans and gasps were shed as they stood slouched. Peter quickly noticed the large gash on their side, and he could tell they were severely injured. “We need to get you to the tower right now, c’mon.” 

As he got closer, (Y/N) stumbled back to avoid his touch. Peter scoffed and tried to reach again, but with the same result. “Stop being stupid and let me help you.” They stopped and let out a large laugh. “Now you fucking care about me, when it will make you look good. I can just imagine Pepper telling me how great and caring you are, and how brave you were to go searching for their lost child. Fuck off with this savior complex, Peter, you can’t save everyone! Some people were meant to suffer and burn and fucking die in the end.”

Peter had never felt so confused in his life. He tried reaching out for the third time and was shut down. They began to walk towards him, fire and tears in their eyes. “Do you have any idea how much fucking pain I feel every day? When my father died, Pepper and I were so shattered, but instead of staying with family she decided to work with you, the great and friendly Spider-Man! Why help your own kin when the prodigy is doing just as bad? I am so sick of living in your shadow Peter! It’s like the universe is telling me I was a mistake! You ruined my life. You are the reason my father is dead. You are the reason I wish it was me instead!”

They fell to their knees in agony, letting out screaming sobs and pained sounds. He quickly recovered, wiping his own tears to comfort them. “I am so sorry (Y/N), I am so so sorry.” Peter put his hands under their arms and lifted them into his arms, as fast as he could go to avoid another lash out. He began to swing them back, and in a quiet voice, (Y/N) whispered into his neck. “Why wasn’t it me, Peter?”

And in that moment, Peter realized that some people need help being put back together. Maybe Kintsugi isn’t so dumb after all.

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker imagines #peter x reader #spider-man #peter parker x gender neutral #peter parker gender neutral #my fic

[babyangellee]

“Save People”

Summary- The Reader must make a difficult decision with the help of a familiar face

Warning- None

Word Count - 1.7k

(AN// Can we all agree to pretend that Hotch and Morgan never left and the team never changed because I imagine like season 13 Reid so let's just go with that??)

[Part 1] [Part 3]

Part Two of Four to "Please Find Me"

JJ's heels clicked down the hallway as she sped walked towards the frantic man yelling at the nurse who was trying to calm him down.

"Spence!" JJ yelled, getting his attention. He saw her and quickly rushed over to her bombarding her with questions about your current state. "She's in surgery right now. They won't tell us anything." She gently placed her hand on Spencer's shoulder in an effort to comfort him.

"How bad is it? Derek wouldn't say over the phone." Spencer asked new tears forming in his already bloodshot and puffy hazel eyes as he stared at the shorter blonde woman. She sighed and Spencer knew it was bad. He didn't need to be a profiler to know that. JJ had led him and Penelope to the waiting room where the rest of the team was.

Hotch had ordered Spencer to stay back at Quantico with Garcia because he wasn't in the right headspace to be out in the field. As soon as he got the call from Morgan, Penelope and he raced to the hospital needing to know what was going on as soon as possible.

Spencer was greeted by the rest of his team when he walked into the waiting room and they all gave him sad eyes.

"Has anyone called her mom?" Emily asked, looking around the group once everyone was sat down. They all looked at each other before Garcia finally reached into her purse for her phone. JJ, Spencer, and Garcia all had your mother's phone number for the same reason they all had a key to your apartment.

About an hour later your mom ran through the hospital hallways looking for the group of agents. She finally spotted Spencer and immediately hugged him.

"How is she? Have they told you anything yet?" She asked, running a shaky hand through her hair, worry evident all over her face and in her voice. "I'm sorry Liz they haven't said anything yet," Spencer shook his head before walking her over to a seat and sitting across from her.

"Ya know Y/N was also really weird when it came to dating." She spoke up after a few hours of silence. She leaned forward and grabbed hold of Spencer's hand and looked to your team members, they all stared back intently waiting for her to continue knowing that she was about to tell a story.

"I remember one night when she was thirteen years old, she had walked into my room late at night and curled into bed with me. She had said to me 'Mom I'm never going to say I love you if I don't mean it. I'm saving it' I chuckled softly thinking it was crazy that she thought that. That she could save those three little words for just one person. But after her dad left she built walls and never let anyone in." Liz sighed looking around at everyone and smiled before continuing.

"She stuck to it. She would go on dates with boys in high school and she'd just known after one night. She would come home from everyone and tell me that they weren't for her. She didn't want to waste those words or her time on just anyone. For a while, I thought she was going to be single forever." She paused laughing slightly and everyone else chuckled except Spencer. "Then one night she called me at like 2 AM and I could practically feel the smile through the phone. She said to me, 'Mom I found him. The one I've been saving those words for' She knew after one date that this person was worthy of those words. I remember she laughed a little before continuing on. She had said 'I know you think I'm crazy but I promise you, he's the one. His name is Spencer.'' Everyone remained silent. Like children when you've reached the middle of a book and they were waiting for you to continue. Spencer just looked down with tears in his eyes.

"The first time she brought you over to meet me I knew she was serious. I had never met any of her dates. But you weren't just a date anymore. You were her boyfriend." Your mom squeezed his hands as she looked him in the eyes. She then looked around to your entire team before finishing her little story. "I don't think I have ever seen one human love another human as much as she loves you, Spencer. She loves you so much that she is way too stubborn to die on you. She waited 25 years to find you. " With that, she stood up and hugged him again. Everyone had tears in their eyes at that point and just prayed that you were okay.

****

You shot up looking around you. You noticed the familiar blue comforter and matching pillowcase that you hadn't seen in a while. As your eyes scanned the room you looked to see the familiar lilac walls with band posters and photos everywhere. You instantly knew where you were and quickly climbed out of bed. You ran down the stairs and into the kitchen. You saw a tall, muscular man standing by the stove with his back turned to you. Your breath hitched in your throat as you swallowed thickly.

"Dad?" You asked quietly as the man slowly turned around with a smile on his face.

'Princess, how are you? I haven't seen you since your graduation." He walked towards you engulfing you in a hug. Tears pricked your eyes as you tightly hugged back. You loved your dad, he was like your best friend. After your parents got divorced you spent weekends and summers with him. After you graduated high school you moved across the country to get a psychology degree and apply for the FBI. It had been close to eleven years since you last saw him.

"Dad am I-" You couldn't bring yourself to finish the sentence. He shook his head no, understanding what you were going to ask. "But right now you need to decide what your future is going to be, baby doll. You can either stay here or go back." He said grabbing your hand and leading you out of the kitchen and towards the front door. He opened the front door and instead of being met with outside, you were met with your apartment you shared with Spencer.

You looked around and noticed Spencer on the couch staring out the window at a sunset. You looked back at your dad before he nodded and you slowly walked towards Spencer. You sat down next to him and put your hand in the empty space between you. He placed his on top of you and looked at you smiling.

"Hi" You breathed out with tears in your eyes and you leaned forward and hugged him with all of your might. You hadn't seen him in days and you thought you would never see him again. Sure this was a figment of your imagination but it was good enough for now. "I've missed you." He said quietly before releasing from the hug. You let go as well and just continued to stare at him. "Yea, I missed you too." You softly chuckled, brushing the tears away. grabbing his hand again.

Before you could say anything else your dad placed a hand on your shoulder and you looked at him. "Come on, there is someone else waiting on us." He said as Spencer stopped smiling and looked back at the window. You got up from your seat taking one last look at him before following your dad.

"If you choose to go back he'll be waiting for you. All of us will." He smiled as you continued to walk out of your apartment door and into a park. "But if you stay, he'll be waiting for you." He said pointing to a teenage boy sitting on a swing with his back to you. More tears formed in your eyes as the realization hit you of who was sitting there.

Your twin brother sat kicking his feet into the wood chips underneath the swing as you approached him.

"Liam!" You cried running towards him causing him to turn his head to see you before he got up meeting you halfway. As soon as he was an arm's length away you immediately engulfed him in a hug. "I'm so sorry! It's my fault. If I hadn't stayed home sick that day from school I would have been with you an none of this would have happened." You sobbed into his shoulder and he just held onto you.

"Y/N stop. It's not your fault. How were you supposed to know? But look at you. You save people for a living now." He tried to soothe you. "I did it for you. I wanted to help prevent what happened to us from happening to other families." You said releasing from the hug but holding his hand as you walked back to the swings that he was sitting on originally.

"I know and I am so proud of you. You have helped save so many people." He beamed looking at you with so much love in his eyes. "You can't stay. So many more people need you. And you need to save more people. Spencer, Mom, Dad, your team, they all need you." He reached over and squeezed your hand as hard as he could before standing up.

"Go live your life. Save people." He gave you one last look before walking away. You looked back to see your dad was gone as well and you were alone in the park.

******

"We're losing her!" The surgeon yelled starting chest compressions and one of the nurses placed an oxygen mask over your mouth and nose.

"Wait! We have a sinus rhythm!" Another nurse yelled watching your vitals on the monitor. The surgeon stopped chest compressions as you started breathing on your own again.

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[ramp-it-up]

Fresh Squeeze, Ch. 5

Pairing: Daveed Diggs x OFC Linden Marshall

Set in 2023, post-pandemic

Warnings: Cursing, Angsty Angst, drug and alcohol use, surprise flights, Anthony Ramos. Lots of Plot.

Word Count: 3.5 K

Plot: Linden Marshall just finished law school at Columbia University in NYC. Daveed Diggs is still creating magic with his platonic life partner Rafael Casal in the form of their Blindspotting musical, Bay Boys. Linden’s boyfriend WAS Mark Monaco, star of the superhero movie series Invincible.  They were together for years, and her trauma and his addictions were toxic. She knows now that wasn’t love. 

A/N: Keep in mind that this the same AU as Arrivals, with Holly Woods, but is BEFORE Rafa and Holly get together. And don’t come for me about Anthony.

Read the Previous Chapter.

===================

NYC, May 2023

Jasmine was blowing up your phone as you were trying to get dressed.  You had to search for it under the pile of clothes on your bed.

You had procrastinated getting ready, trying to finish one of your applications for a summer internship at this law firm in Harlem that you were excited about.  

You wanted to finally relax after finishing Columbia law in the top 10% of your class. You just wanted to relax and enjoy this weekend.

Craig, your mom and your uncle were the only ones to attend your graduation.  They knew you didn’t want any fanfare, so your famous friends didn’t attend, and they had a show to do, but they’d sent you tons of well wishes.

We're coming up, get decent!

You chuckled and shook your head. Anthony usually raided the refrigerator when he came over. This time, you told him to bring his own snacks..

You slipped on what you were wearing for the night.  Craig was in his room getting ready and you had volunteered his place, so you were playing hostess. You were surprised that he was so chill about it, actually. 

“Pika Pika,” you said to yourself in the mirror then ran to answer the doorbell. It was almost 6 pm.

You opened the door for Cookie Monster and Big Bird.  You burst out laughing. But you stopped when you saw Anthony's face. He had like five bags from Whole Foods that he was juggling in his blue arms.

"Jazzy!!!! There's my girl.  Hey Ant! leave the food and your girl. We may run off together."

Anthony came in the door loaded down with bags and kissed you on the cheek.  

“I love you Lindy, but fuck you man.” You punched him on the shoulder. 

“Ow! Time to get this party started!”

Linden heard Jazzy’s Brooklyn accent turn into a London lilt as she started play fighting with Ant. They felt like family at this point.

=================

Ever since the launch party in January, Jasmine had pursued you as a friend persistently. You normally didn’t let anyone in because of the circumstances of your life, but Jas was oblivious to your awkwardness with normal human beings.

“Girl, you are fucking DOPE, and you are NOT gonna deny my love.  I know your life has been a trip, and you don’t have to tell me all of it, but I’m not gonna let you shrivel up and be a little retiring wallflower. Life is to be lived.” 

Jasmine telling you that during a Saturday brunch date in February was the key to your heart. She drew you out, and you didn’t see what value you added to her life.

But she loved you anyway. And you loved her, and of course, Anthony was part of the package.  

He was beautiful, loud, talented, and reckless, but he reminded you too fucking much of Dell to be annoyed with him very long.

Your circle had certainly widened from just Craig. That was one thing for which you could thank Mark. You were working on him being a distant memory.  He hadn’t lasted too long in Bay Boys, quitting soon after the musical opened in March.  

Daveed’s hands and feet had ‘slipped’ one too many times during the scene when he was stomping his ass on stage. Mark cited health reasons, and publicly spiraled a bit. He was currently in rehab. 

Again. 

You had not heard from him and that was absolutely fine with you.

Because Jasmine was in Bay Boys and that was her life, the cast and crew became yours as well. Rafael was the type of chaotic creative genius that fascinated you; you could listen to him talk for hours.  

Things with Daveed were more tricky. Ever since that awkwardness with him after the launch party, you’d kept your distance, but you hung out a lot, so you were trying to be friends.

When you and Jas and Ant and Rafa hung out and talked, Daveed was there, smiling shyly and sneaking glances at you, throwing in pearls of wisdom every so often. 

He was so dope and so talented and intelligent and so freaking hot, but you were trying to get yourself together.  You were convinced that night in January had been a mistake. 

You needed some space. And time.  Law school was no joke, and you were in therapy so entanglements was not what was up.

Daveed sensed your hesitancy and decided to stop pursuing you. But he couldn’t stop how he felt.

You were both a little wasted and keyed up the night of the launch party, and despite the way you were beautiful and intelligent and sexy as fucking hell, he was not going to press you. 

Daveed was sure that you two could be something special if you would give it a chance, but he didn’t want to chase you, but he was so gone for you, that if you just nodded your head at him, he would be at your feet.

The attraction was undeniable. There was a crazy little dance you two did that everyone recognized and respected.  This group seemed to know you were fragile, and that you didn’t need to be pushed too far.

But the more they persisted, the more you came out of your shell.  The more you trusted, the more the old Lindy came back. 

Craig noticed first soon after you started hanging with the crew when you were trying to find a place to live. He went to one showing with you and sat you down for a talk.

“Girl, I love the light in your eyes.  I haven’t seen this Lindy since…well in a long time. Stay with me for as long as you want. I know you need to get through this last semester of school, you don’t need one more thing to think about. I’m proud of the work that you’re doing on yourself, Linden.”

You were grateful to Craig.  His place on the Upper West Side was super convenient to Columbia, and not having to think about finding a place was so clutch.  Third year was kicking your ass.

“Besides, I wouldn’t have this place if it wasn’t for…”

“Hush,  I don’t want to hear that.  Dell would have wanted this. I love you cuzzo.” 

=================

Craig came out in a Sully onesie and immediately dragged Jasmine into a conversation about the Met Gala that had happened a few days ago. 

You approached the kitchen where Ant stood, food all around him on the counter. You were whispering. He smiled a secret smile at you.

“I’m so proud of you doing this for Jasmine.  It’s good for you all to get away. I’m glad that she got a little break. She deserves it all.”

Anthony had arranged for this little get together to be a surprise for Jasmine. This was going to be a kickback weekend.

The show was on a four day hiatus while the set was moved to a bigger theatre.  It was a hit and was destined for a long run.

Ant’s green eyes lit up as you kept talking about Jasmine.

“Yeah, she does. And the woman of the hour deserves all the happiness in the world.” He lifted his beer to you.

They way he said that was weird and you were about to ask him what was up with that when the doorbell started ringing, you went to answer it and were stuck there for a few minutes as people started coming in. 

The food and the drinks were flowing while all kinds of characters came in. 

Now they also had Jack Skellingtom, and a Care Bear in the house to add to Big bird, Cookie Monster, Pikachu and Sully. It was an odd cast of characters who were jamming to 90's rap, eating chicken wings and basically tripping like only friends could do.

Then there was Toni, some tag-along chick who showed up with Rafa.  She had on a plain gray onesie.  What a downer.  

You’d  pegged her for  a star fucker who only hung with Rafa because of who he and his friends were.  The girl was too much in everyone's business. 

"Sooooo. You and Mark ARE broken up for real for real. The tabloids say y’all are back together!  I told my friend Susie you weren’t, but she wouldn't believe me."

You  just smiled and didn't confirm or deny, treating Toni like the paparazzi. The girl was oblivious to your hate and just kept talking.

Daveed rescued you. 

"Hey, Toni, show these folks how you can blow. They're setting up the karaoke machine over there. Show us what you're working with. Someone might hook you up with a gig."

Toni perked up and hurried over to Anthony and Craig, who were setting up the lyrics on the big screen to match the karaoke music. Some Bad Boy joints were up.

Rafa was behind them screaming, "Dylan, Dylan, Dylan!" 

They were a scene.  You  breathed and relaxed a little.

"Don't stress. She's not coming with us  to the island."

You looked up at the tall, fine Grumpy Care Bear who was nursing some of your special 18-year-old Chivas Regal that you had gotten for graduation. His beautiful smile shined out of his brown face and beneath the curls tumbling out of his hood. 

“I’m not pressed. I’m chilling. You can do what you want. With who you want.”

“She’s not with me. Rafa brought her for the ride to the airport. And it’s not entirely true that I can do what I want. With who I want. Because what if who I want to do doesn’t want to do me?”

You knew what he meant. But you eyed his drink instead of looking at him. It wasn’t that you didn’t want him. That was far from the truth. You didn’t want to get lost in him. And you could see that happening.

Daveed saw your wheels turning. You were over analyzing again.  He’d spent three months observing you every chance he got. He felt like he knew your anxieties.  So fucking smart, but here you were thinking too much.

"Hey Genuis Ass. Want some?" Daveed’s voice was softer as he grinned and offered you some of his drink.  “Or, I could go make you something?” For some reason he wanted you to get loose. 

"Nah, I'm good Diggs.”  For some reason you needed to stay in control.  You played it off by changing the subject. 

“I still can’t believe y’all call me that.” 

Daveed just smiled and nodded, chuckling a little. He craned his neck and looked at it, having to dodge a smack upside the head.

“That ass is genius, you know. That’s the one thing He Who Shall Not Be Named was right about. And you’re one of the smartest humans I know.”  

You had to look at him then. The flecks of gold in his eyes tho.  But you could tell from the slight redness that he was a little zooted.  He didn’t get that way around you a lot, but you knew for the stories that he partied occasionally. 

He and Rafa and that Toni chick must have pre-gamed.  You remembered the last time you two were  tipsy together.You cleared your throat and looked away.

“Why did you lie to that girl? She can’t sing.” You were shaking your head, scowling at Toni’s screeching from the karaoke machine.

He winked at you. D was well on his way to getting LIT.

"What? She can blow.”  Daveed sipped his drink and watched her. 

“She’ll suck your soul out and spit it back in your mouth." Daveed was loose. And so was his mouth. But he didn’t care.

Your mouth was hanging open at Daveed as you wondered what Daveed had done with Toni, what Daveed AND Rafa had done with Toni... 

Shit, you were just going to ask.

"How do you know that she..."

"AWWWW SHEEEIIIITTT! THAT'S MY JAM! REMEMBER THIS LINDY??"

“No, I was like, negative 5..”

You raised your voice as he traveled away from you, smiling. He was not slick.

“Well you missed out being tardy to the party…” 

He was backing toward the mic, knocking it out of Anthony’s hand and starting the rap. Rafa joined him, trading verses.

Now as the record spins around, you recognize this sound,

Well, it's the underground,

You know that we're down with wutchyalike

Yeah, with wutchyalike, yeah

And though we're usually on the serious tip, check it out:

Tonight we're gonna flip and trip and let it all hang out tonight,

We're gonna say what we like.

'Cause, yo, yo, we want to know how many people in the flow,

Would like to just let yourselves go

And doowutchyalike,

Yeah, well tonight's your night.

Just eat food, try not to be crude or rude,

Kill the attitude, chill the serious mood,

And doowutchyalike,

Yeah, and doowutchyalike,

Everybody doowutchyalike

Everyone was dancing and Daveed had effectively deflected your question. But you would never forget.

By 8 o’clock, Craig grabbed the mic and motioned for Jasmine to come with him. You had enjoyed some cocktails finally, and just figured they were going to duet Wind Beneath My Wings just like they always did. 

You were actually moving to the music and feeling good.

"Ok guys, whew.  I'm hot.  Is it hot in herrrre?" Craig was fanning himself.

“Whoooo! Nelly!”

You yelled and everyone laughed.

Craig took his hood off and started to unzip his onesie. Jasmine did the same.

You kept dancing nervously, not realizing it, looking around at the others who were also disrobing. You did a double take as D’s abs came into view.  What was going on?

Craig continued.

"Lindy, I just need a minute to talk, can you stop whatever it is you're doing?"  He grinned at you from across the room. "You're still moving Lindy."

You blushed and stopped fidgeting.

"Ummm, Craig, what the..."

One by one people dropped their onesies, all except Toni, who had no clue what was going on. Soon, everyone was standing in Craig’s condo in their swimsuits, looking fine as hell. 

You just looked around, then in your cup wondering if you were too drunk and hallucinating.

“Lindy, you’ve worked real hard, and this past few months have been crazy, so we wanted to do something special for you this weekend, for your graduation, and for your birthday, WHICH IS SUNDAY!!”

Everyone cheered as Jasmine took the mic. “You think this party is for me. Well the joke’s on you bitch, because you have been hosting your own party!”

You opened your mouth, squeaked a little, then spoke,

"But why?.. Everybody?  But what..."

Daveed moved close.

"Damn, you fine," you whispered. 

Your hand flew to your mouth when he smirked in response. Everyone was rolling because turns out, you didn’t whisper.

Daveed cleared his throat. "Thank you. You’re fine yaseif. Anyway, Anthony and Jasmine have a house there, and we’re flying out of JFK tonight.  In about two and a half hours in fact. So we gotta get going.”

You still had only a part of a clue of what was going on. But you couldn't resist all of this.

"Okay? But... I don't have any clothes. And I don’t have a ticket..."

Craig came from the storage room off the kitchen with one of your suitcases. Others started getting their bags as well

"Everybody's shit has been in my house for a week. And girl, you know I got your information. It ain’t nothing but a thang.  Your ticket is ready and waiting. Just sent it to your email.”

Your mouth dropped open and you stared at Craig as everyone pulled their onesies back up and got their bags together.

Your eyes filled with tears that you hurriedly brushed away. Craig came over and hugged you. Then every else joined in for a group hug.

"You deserve, Lindy. Let us celebrate you."

You looked like you didn't quite believe it, but you went along. You laughed, visibly deciding to go with the flow.

"I'm down!"

Toni was nearby. When the hug broke up, she started asking questions.  Your  patience was wearing thin.

"I don’t believe that all these people really roll like this. Y’all wild. Susie won that bet."

You just continued to look at this fool.

"But isn’t this dope?  All these famous, successful men being so fearless with their love and appreciation for Black women, of all people. Who woulda thunk they didn't want white women?"

Toni just kept saying the wrong thing. It was the "of all people" for you.

You stared daggers at your houseguest. Toni caught the look.

"Wait, are you mixed?"

You narrowed your eyes and said, "Black mixed with Black."

Toni clutched her pearls.

"Oh wow. Didn't mean to offend. I just mean everyone knows Jasmine is mixed, with her dad and all, as black as can be. But her white British mom saved her from his skin tone. I mean, she has braids in now, so you can see it, but all she has to do is blow her hair straight and she can pass..."

Toni jumped when Rafa spoke. She didn't know he was there.

"Toni. Not Jas. She's the homie." 

The look in his ice blue eyes could burn. 

"And you are a Black woman, so you know how dope they are. Why would anyone NOT worship at your feet?"

Lindy just sipped her drink as Craig entered the chat. "Amen!"

"Maybe it is time for you to get going, honey. I might call you when I get back."

Rafa  led Toni to the door as she protested.

"But I was going to take you to the air..."

"And I APPRECIATE you Black woman, but we'll get there.  See you later."

Then Rafa shut the door in her face. Linden discovered she loved him eternally at that moment. She was rolling.

No one mourned Toni’s departure as arrangements were made for cars to take everyone to the airport.

"You and Daveed can ride with us, Rafa." Ant to the rescue.

"Yeah, Jasmine loves to look at my profile." Jas pinched him so hard he jumped.

“Fuck!”

Ant  was screaming as he, Jasmine and Rafa went out the door. 

"Peace! See you at airport security.  If you get nabbed by TSA, you on your own!”

Daveed lingered. “I don’t know if all of us and our bags will fit in one car. Can I ride with you and Lindy, Craig?”

Craig smirked at Daveed, but didn’t say anything. “Of course...you good with that Lindy?”

You tried to keep it light. 

“Sure.. no biggie,” you cleared your throat and headed to the bathroom to make sure you had everything you needed.

=================

By the time you got to your Uber, the traffic was horrible. It took over an hour to get to the airport. You felt both anxious about missing the flight and keyed up about sitting next to Daveed in the car.

His thigh and side pressing into yours in the dark in the back of an Uber Black brought back memories of that reckless night. 

When he put his arm up on the seat behind you, “For more room,” he said, in that voice and flashing that megawatt smile, you were enveloped more into his scent and warmth. You had to control yourself not to melt into him.

Craig was sitting on his phone, sneaking glances at you and smirking the entire ride. He’d insisted that you be in the middle because you were so tiny.

The whole world was against you, you thought, as you and Daveed both stared straight ahead, both flashing back to that January night.

You were the last three people to run through the airline gate just at they were about to close it. All your friends in first class cheered when you took their seats, and Rafa popped a bottle of champagne.

"Talk about cutting it close," Ant commented as Rafa gave Daveed a high five.

Daveed looked at you. You shook your head at him. Somehow, you were sitting next to him. You just decided to let it be and have some time.

“Just make sure you don’t molest me under this blanket, Ms. Marshall,” Daveed intoned when you were settled and given amenities for the night.

The flight attendant had to tell y’all to keep quiet as the cat calls went up.

Welp, you thought. This will be the vibe the entire weekend. 

You weren’t mad at it. You loved these people. And you were safe. You just smiled, settled down, and looked out of the window to watch the lights of New York fade away.

=================

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