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wandussyfantasy · 11 months

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Movie Night

Summary: Wanda and you are enjoying a movie night together when she makes a bold move.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word count: 3.7k

WARNINGS:

18+ ONLY, MINORS DO NOT READ & DO NOT INTERACT!!!

insecurity, smut, gn!reader amab, powerbottom!wanda, oral, hand job, fingering, praising, creampie, and fluff

𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓. 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍.

“What do you feel like watching next?” You ask as you scroll through one of the many streaming apps that your parents pay for. It’s summer break from college and you wanted to be out having fun but unfortunately you didn't have a lot of money saved and close to zero energy with the summer job your dad had secured for you at his company. He wanted you to have more structure than he did at your age so you have to earn every penny in your account. And he did not make it easy.

Which is killing your social life that consists of friends that have big allowances and enjoy going to expensive clubs, especially since they're all now legally allowed to drink. Luckily, your friend Wanda wasn't really much for going out. She enjoys a simple night in more than anything. The two of you have been hanging out pretty much every night off that you have and you appreciate that she enjoys spending this time together. However, at this point in the summer, the two of you have made it through all of the best movies and are now challenging yourselves by watching movies you otherwise wouldn't. Some turn out to be great and others turn out to be horrible. But the horrible ones are your favorites because those are the films that make you and Wanda laugh the hardest.

Wanda suggests a movie you've never heard of and you begin searching for it, only to finally have something on. “Is it good?” you ask as you select the title.

She shrugs, “I haven't seen it but,” she looks at you nervously as she scoots closer, “I’ve heard good things about it.” Wanda grabs the throw blanket from the back of the sofa and covers your laps with it.

“Oh, uh, thanks,” you toss it in her lap, off of you. “But I'm not cold.” You clear your throat as you set the remote on the coffee table and settle back into the cushions. Your arm rests on the couch behind Wanda. The action gives her a little more confidence as gets a little closer.

As the two of you have been hanging out alone together, Wanda has developed stronger feelings for you but she didn't know how to express those. So she went to her friends Carol and Natasha. They suggested that she make sure this movie played. They said it got anyone horny and if she wanted to make a statement that let you know how much she wanted you, it was to get you in the mood.

The film opens with a graphic sex scene and you clear your throat again as you check your watch. Maybe this wasn't the kind of movie that is viewed in the living room of your parents house. You worried about them coming home to this playing. You grab the remote to lower the volume so you at least have a chance at changing the movie if they enter the house. You set the remote next to your thigh this time and relax as the scene ends and the plot begins.

You give Wanda an awkward smile as you return your focus to the screen. The actress was pretty but she wasn't really your type. The story wasn't really great, it was honestly putting you to sleep until it happens again. Another sex scene with very vocal actors making your body respond naturally. You try to subtly adjust yourself so that your pulsing bulge isn't noticeable but it is hard to do in sweatpants and Wanda does take notice. “Actually, it is a bit chilly in here,” you say as you pull the blanket back over your lap. Wanda smirks as she boldly reaches over and runs her fingers along the length of your bulge under the blanket. You freeze, unsure about what is happening. She removes her hand and pretends that she didn't do anything. You shake your head, believing that you made it up.

That is, until after the third sex scene. The storyline is back and so is Wanda's hand. Only it's creeping its way into your pants, just outside your boxers. She squeezes your erection, causing your breathing to get harder. “Wanda,” you whisper in question but she shushes you.

“Do you want me to stop?” she asks and you shake your head no. “Good,” she leans in to give you a kiss but it's interrupted by the home's intelligence system welcoming your parents home. You scramble to change the channel to something more appropriate and try to take Wanda's hand off of you but she shakes her head. “You’re just going to have to behave,” she says and although your heart races with anxiety, your dick stiffens at the idea and she knows that you love it.

You scoot closer to Wanda and grab a few more blankets to hide what's happening while lowering the temperature in the room just before your parents enter the space.

“See honey,” Tony says to his wife, “All these two get to do is rot away with movies when they could be going out.”

Pepper rolls her eyes and sets her clutch on the kitchen island behind you, “Don’t try to fool them. This parenting strategy wasn't all my idea, Tony.”

You gulp as Wanda finally slips her delicate fingers in your underwear. Her soft skin touching your burning length for the first time has you clutching your fists. “Hey guys,” you clear your throat as you look back in their direction, trying to act as normal as possible. “How was the fundraiser?”

“Boring,” Tony leans against the counter and pops a couple of grapes in his mouth. “How was your millionth movie night?”

“It’s been a lot of fun, Mr. Stark,” Wanda says as she runs her thumb over your sensitive tip. Making you want to lose yourself and moan.

Tony moves from his spot with a groan and a contorted expression, “What have I said? It's Tony. Mr. Stark is my father. I am not my father. Although, I am that one's father. I don't—”

“Dad,” you call out with a laugh to stop his rant. “She’s just messing with you.” Wanda smiles at your father and shakes his head.

“Ha ha ha, very funny,” he looks at his watch. “I’m off to bed. Don't get loud.” He walks to the stairs and you almost relax until you feel your mom's hand on your shoulder.

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” she kisses your temple. “Please don't be up too late,” she says as she pulls away. “And make sure she gets home safely,” she tells you and you nod as you prepare to promise to your mother that your friend will be safe at home after this movie is over.

“Actually, I'm spending the night,” Wanda interrupts.

“Oh,” Pepper fails to hide her surprise. “Well, it's a good thing the guest bed is already set up.” She smiles and begins walking away, “See the two of you in the morning.”

Once you hear your parents bedroom door close you release all of the air you were holding as your friend jerked you off in front of your parents. “Fuck Wanda,” you gasp out. “I didn't know you were like this,” you say as you roll your hips in order to pump yourself in and out of her hand.

“I can't take all of the credit,” she says as she finally latches her lips to your throat. “Because you did so good, you get a reward.” You face her with confusion and she takes advantage of the position to kiss you on the lips. Her hand squeezes your cock causing you to grunt into her mouth.

“What’s that?” you ask with a dry throat.

Wanda smirks before she adjusts herself so that she is under the covers. You have no view of what is going on. All you can do is feel. The relief of being released from your pants. The feel of her hands working their magic on your dick. Then finally, the exciting and intoxicating contact of her tongue. You sit up straighter at the feel. It has been a long time since anyone has touched you here which made you extra sensitive to her touch. When her lips wrap around your cock you let out too loud of a moan that causes her to pull away completely. You whine at the loss and she looks up at you from under the blankets.

“You heard your dad,” she says. “We can't get too loud.”

“Please, can we move this to my room?” you ask breathlessly. As thrilling as the idea was, you know that the two of you would be mortified if either of your parents caught you in this act. Wanda nods and she gets up from the covers. You shut the tv off and tuck yourself back into your pants.

You follow Wanda into your room and once the door is locked, she pushes you onto the bed before you can finish dropping your pants and boxers. Both stop halfway down your thigh but Wanda isn't concerned about your state of undress. She wants you back in her mouth. You fall at the edge of your bed and she gets on her knees in between your legs. This time, you have a full view of her sucking on your dick. She uses her hand to massage the rest of your dick that she can't quite fit in her mouth. You lean back on your elbows as the view drives you crazy. Watching her work so much to pleasure you that when her hair falls and covers some of your view, you move it over her ear. This gives you the idea to hold on and guide her rhythm as she was starting to get a little too fast for your liking.

“Fuck, Wanda,” you whisper as you feel yourself getting close. “Hold on,” you pull her off of you as you try not to let the thought of the sweet sweet release control the situation. She looks at you with her once big green eyes, that are now dark with desire. “How far were you planning on this going?” you ask as you sit up. You pat the spot next to you to offer her a seat on the bed.

“Um,” she accepts the invitation but the question makes her a little awkward. Some of the boldness she had earlier leaves her. “I honestly didn't even plan this far ahead. The girls only told me to follow my instincts and do what felt right.” She plays with her fingers as she talks. A habit that you've always thought is adorable.

You try to fight a smile, “Ah, so you talked to Carol and Nat about me?”

“Is that bad?” She makes a face to show her concern.

You shake your head, “No, no, of course not. I think it's sweet that you went to them but, Wanda.” You sigh as you think of the right words, then you notice your stiff cock still standing at attention and now you feel a little awkward and ridiculous. “You could have come to me about this. You know, you've had my attention ever since high school,” you let out a small laugh.

“Really?” She is surprised by this information. You confirm it with a short nod. “I had no idea! You never showed any interest in me back then.”

You blush as you begin to feel a bit sheepish, “You were dating Vis back when we were all friends. It wouldn't have been appropriate. Besides, back then we all thought the two of you were made for each other. It was high school, I thought I missed my chance with you a long time ago.”

Wanda raises her eyebrows and twists her lips to the side of her face as it starts to click in her mind. “I didn't prepare for how far I want this to go but,” she bites her lip as she starts to get nervous. “I haven't… no one has ever…” you sit up straighter as you figure out what she is trying to say. “And it's not because I was waiting, it's just I never really wanted to before. But, I do now.” She reaches over to stroke your cock again,“With you,” she emphasizes.

“Are you sure?” You ask as you try to focus on her and not how good she is making you feel. Wanda nods again and leans in to kiss you on the lips. She climbs on top of you and straddles your lap without breaking any contact with you and you moan. As much as you love letting her be in control, you need to make her feel as good as she is making you feel. You're clumsy with your touch as you try to find a good place to grab her. When you settle one hand on her back and the other on her thigh, you spin the two of you on the bed so that she is laying on the mattress.

She lets out a sound in surprise as she tries to avoid breaking the kiss but you pull away so you can finish taking off your clothes. You start by pulling your shirt off and then finally dropping your pants along with your underwear. You put your hand over hers and pull it off of you. She is confused until you hook your fingers in her shorts and yank them down. You lick your lips at the sight of her wet pussy. As greedy as you wanted to be, you had to control yourself. You finish pulling her clothing down her legs with soft kisses down her legs, leaving a trail of goosebumps.

Wanda wasn't really on the receiving end of things so she has no idea what to do with herself other than to pull her shirt off of her and remove her bra while you make your way back to her center. When you slip your tongue between her folds for the first time, she makes a loud noise. Nothing has ever felt so good before. You shush her with a grin and she nods as she bites her bottom lip to reign in her sounds. You continue on, inserting your pointer finger and you groan at how tight she is. You haven't been anyone's first before, so you wanted to take extra care of Wanda. She deserves the best treatment possible.

You insert a second finger to stretch her a bit and start to pump them slowly. “You’re so wet,” you praise. “Fuck, Wanda,” you say again as her walls squeeze around your fingers as you pump them in and out of her. “You like it when I compliment you, baby?” You test out the term of endearment and her walls tighten around you again as she nods. “We are going to have so much fun,” you say and you pull your fingers out of her and replace them with your tongue. Wanda's thighs try to close around your head until you have to pry them open. You kiss her thighs as you get her to relax them. “I’m not going anywhere, love. It's okay,” you whisper to her.

Wanda nods and falls back onto the mattress as she had been holding herself up to watch you. She begins to fondle her breasts as shuts her eyes to focus on feeling. Your tongue and fingers teasing her entrance. Your thumb massaging her clitoris. When you enter a third finger in her. She can hardly handle any of it. “Y/n,” she whimpers when she feels something really good happening below her belly.

“Let go, Wanda,” you tell her as you work your fingers harder on her clitoris. She finally does and she covers her face with your pillow to muffle her scream. You drink as much of her arousal as you can before kissing your way back up her body. You hover over as you wait for her to come back to Earth.

“How did you do that?” She gasps out once she finally removes the pillow from her face.

“I’ll show you later,” you say. “Are you ready?” you ask as you tease the tip of your cock at her entrance. Wanda nods as she moves her hands from her chest to your biceps. You reach over to your nightstand to grab the box of condoms you kept in there but your hand lands on an empty drawer. Your eyebrows pinch together as you move away from Wanda to find nothing there. Your heart races as you pull the other drawers open and sigh in defeat. “I’m sorry, Wanda,” you scratch your head. “I don't have a condom.”

Wanda shrugs, “It’s okay, I've been on the pill forever.”

“Are you sure?” you turn to her, a bit shocked.

She nods, “Besides, I wouldn't mind feeling all of you.”

“Okay,” you say as you climb on top of her again. You adjust yourself at her entrance and pull her into another lengthy kiss. You feel her up as you prepare to enter her. You rock your hips so that your dick rubs up against her. “Mmm, you can always tell me to stop,” you remind her.

“Please don't,” she says with her hands in your hair. As your hand finds its way to her thigh, you grab your cock and aim it at her entrance. Anxious to finally feel what it's like to do this without a condom and what she is going to feel like. You slowly slip inside of her, stopping every other inch to allow her to adjust. You rub circles on her clit to try and keep the pleasure up but get sloppy as you get lost in feeling her warm tight walls around you for the first time. You almost finish inside of her right then and there. But the image of her hanging off of Vision is enough to calm you down. Until you open your eyes and face the reality that she is naked under you moaning your name.

You begin to rock your hips a little and your head falls to her shoulder. “I don't know how long I'm going to last,” you warn her as you slam all the way inside of her. She yelps in surprise and you shoot your head up gearing up to apologize but she silences you with her lips.

“It’s okay,” she says softly. “You’ll just have to make it up to me next time,” she teases a little and it makes you smile. You start to thrust into her more as you kiss her more.

“Gosh you're so tight, Wanda,” you say as you pick up speed. “Oh fuck you have no idea how long I've waited for this,” you say you kiss her shoulder. Wanda's hands are on your back as you continue to rock into her and when she digs her nails into her you have to slow down before you explode. “Damn you're too good, oh fuck, I don't want this to end just yet,” you say as you try to prolong your oncoming orgasm.

“It’s okay,” Wanda whispers in your ear. “I want you to cum inside of me,” you fall apart at her words. They trigger something inside of you that takes over and causes you to slam into Wanda harder and faster than you wanted to. You thought you could give her a slow and sweet experience for her first time, but it has been a long time since your last sexual experience, you haven't even masturbated in a while and you could only do so much when it came to your body. “Yes, yes, yes!” Wanda encourages making you feel better about fucking her so hard.

Then finally, one last thrust and you're releasing a big load of your cum inside of her. Your head falls into her shoulder again as you try to muffle your sounds. Wanda's walls close around your pulsing cock as if she is trying to milk you dry. She places lazy kisses on your face as she waits for you to be done. “You’re so amazing,” you say as you grab a few tissues from your nightstand and pull out of her. You clean your soft dick as you roll beside her on the bed. “Now, let me help you finish,” you scoot up on the bed. “Lay on top of me,” you request. Confused, she lays the front of her body on you and you lightly laugh. “Hi,” you greet.

“Hi,” she smiles.

“As much as I like to see your face,” you start as you run your fingers down her sweaty arm. “I meant the other way.”

“Oh,” she spins around on your body until her back is against you. “Like this?”

“Yes,” you say as you grab her hand. “How often do you touch yourself?”

Wanda is glad to be facing away from you as she is sure she wouldn't be able to answer this question otherwise. “I don't really,” she says shyly. “The first few times I did it, it felt wrong to be doing it. I was afraid I was going to be labeled as some sort of sex addict in school if anyone ever found out.”

“Aw lovely girl,” you say as you guide her fingers to touch her clitoris. “It’s okay to touch yourself. In fact, you should do it at least once a night.”

“Really?” Wanda leans her body further into you as you help her find her spot. “Oh god,” she moans out, “you’re right. I should do this more often.” You remove your hand from her as you watch her learn how to pleasure herself.

“Follow your instincts,” you guide her. “Find out what feels right.” She follows your directions and her breathing gets harder as she gets closer. He free hand searches for you and you give her yours. She laces your fingers together with a tight grip as she makes herself orgasm for the first time ever. Her body shakes on top of you and you kiss her temple to her shoulder as you say encouraging words until it's over.

“Thank you,” she whispers as she turns her head to kiss you.

“Thank you,” you wink at her and she shakes her head at you.

The End

#smut #wanda fanfic #wanda smut #wanda x reader #wanda x y/n #wanda x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you

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jiminrings · 5 months

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in vain aka sugar baby (but not really) jungkook drabble series sneak peek

pairing: jungkook x reader

glimpse: jungkook likes the finer things in life, and you don’t like being lonely.

alternatively, jungkook’s your sugar baby — except the only thing he needs to do to get paid is to be your friend.

“Nope. No sex at all. No kisses or hugs or anything like that.”

A sense of pride almost fills Jungkook, almost, when he sees Namjoon’s face fall and twist both in amazement and confusion. It’s not that Jungkook thinks he’s better — he already knows it himself. He feels proud to have proved Namjoon wrong when he said it to his face that absolutely no one would pay for his snotty personality.

“Then how come you’re her sugar baby?” Namjoon asks, his hunger for the pasta he ordered (and waited for twenty minutes to arrive) subsiding. He doesn’t get it at all, not one single bit of him believing that Jungkook landed a sugar mommy that simply just wants him to be there.

Jungkook shrugs as if it’s the easiest thing to answer, the arrogance flowing through him like the breeze that goes through the door when you open it. Namjoon’s eyes turn out of instinct and while he had paid no attention to you initially, he does now when you’re walking towards them and his friend can’t see to shut up.

“I’m just there for company. She’s just alone and weird, I guess.”

Namjoon nudges him to stay still and stop talking with everything he could muster in one simple shove to his side, his mumbling too quiet for someone as dense as Jungkook to understand.

“What did you say?” Jungkook asks out-loud as if it pains him to not turn every single thought in his head into a literal speech bubble, turning his head abruptly. He finds himself face-to-face with you, only hovering awkwardly after catching wind of what he just said.

Namjoon, however, doesn’t even seem to meet his eyes — neither does Jungkook with yours. He turns back to his friend without a single acknowledgement to you, continuing to run his mouth as if you weren’t there in the first place.

“What are you so worried for?” he furrows his brows, going back to his laptop as he types gibberish to make it seem like he’s doing something important. He’s not bothered — not at all. “Y/N already knows I don’t need her like that. I’m only after her money, not her.”

The lump that appears in your throat is automatic because Jungkook is like this and you know it. He’s bumped into your “friends” (the better term would be acquaintances-I’ve-made-emptily-out-of-social-obligation) a few times already and he’s never been this rash with you, yet the first time that you see him with his friend, he makes you feel the smallest that you’ve ever been.

“Oh my god, Jungkook. Watch your fucking manners,” Namjoon grits immediately, the lack of Jungkook’s respect for you and perhaps for everyone else grating his ears. He clears his throat and straightens himself, much to his friend’s annoyance, before putting his hand out. “H-hi. I’m Namjoon, Jungkook’s friend.”

“Hi, Namjoon,” you greet courteously, your embarrassment burning away the longer that you’re distracted from how Jungkook’s regard for you to your face and to everyone else is the same. He’s always been transparent with you, unable to sugarcoat his words.

Simply put, Jungkook doesn’t like you. He means it when he says it to you casually right after you crack a joke in the middle of watching a movie, and he means it when he’s talking behind your back to Namjoon.

“Why are you here?” Jungkook asks, the bored look on his face striking right through you. You feel alone again despite being in a café full of people; even when you’re faced with him.

“I was thinking we could maybe get dinner together?” you ask even if it takes up all the remaining courage in you, the majority of it consumed when you put an effort into dressing yourself up today — for him.

“Busy,” Jungkook huffs, resting his chin on his palm. He stays seated throughout while you’re just standing there, waiting to have a shred of significant acknowledgement. “Can I have some money to get dinner with Namjoon instead?”

You shouldn’t be surprised anymore, not at all. Because while Jungkook isn’t consistent on keeping his end of the bargain, you keep yours loyally. You don’t want to be at fault and the raving urge in you to always keep people appeased overtakes you.

“Oh,” you mumble in realization, fumbling to open your bag and fish for your wallet. “Y-yeah, yeah. Sure.”

On the other hand, Namjoon can’t resist any longer. He physically can’t contain himself anymore, the breath that he’s been holding finally giving out because he can’t bear to see you like this because of Jungkook.

“Actually, count me out,” he interjects, ignoring the offended gasp he gets. He turns to you much more gently compared to the vitriol he has for Jungkook. “Are you, uhm — do you still need someone to eat dinner with… Miss Y/N?” he asks politely, wringing his hands together underneath the table.

Your mouth dries at his address for you and even more at his politeness, the realization that Namjoon’s actually kind to you despite only meeting you minutes ago hitting you belatedly. “I-… I do, yeah. But you don’t have to-…”

“No, no! I insist,” he scrambles to get out of his seat, intentionally hitting Jungkook on the bicep as he slings his backpack on his shoulder. “Some people don’t do their jobs correctly and could be a total asshole at that.”

Jungkook scowls at what’s clearly the dig for him, his annoyance running deep when you stay frozen.

Deeper when you snap out of it and nod your head shyly, and the deepest when you actually leave him.

It seems like fate’s fucking with him because as much as he should feel elated that your weekly transfer to him comes in now of all times, he doesn’t at all. He feels bad and he doesn’t ever feel that way. He’s never been left before; not like this at the very least.

You whisper to Namjoon on the way out, the reminder that you were embarrassed in front of him and probably to the curious patrons in the café staying vivid in your mind. “I’ll pay you. I’m sorry for taking up your time.”

“You don’t have to at all, miss. I promise,” Namjoon assures you as he opens the door for you, the two of you waiting side by side as you wait for your driver to go around back. He respects you but he’s comfortable already; enough to open up out of the blue. “You know, I’ve had… a sugar mommy in the past. You’re Jungkook’s first and really, I apologize for how rude he is,” he clicks his tongue, shaking his head in disapproval. “You’re not making him jump through hoops or force him into doing things or anything like that. All you’re asking for is companionship — I’m sorry that he’s bad at it.”

It stays quiet between the two of you until you find the right words that won’t make you want to crumple to the pavement out of shame.

“You don’t have to apologize in behalf of him.”

“I feel like I need to,” he trails, an uneasy chuckle leaving him. “Jungkook doesn’t ever apologize for anything.”

“Oh.”

The knot in your throat untangled minutes ago but it comes back again, this time for less pitiful reasons. “You’re really nice, Namjoon. Please tell me if you ever need anything,” your breath hitches in fear of overstepping, yet you push through anyway. “I know you’re already familiar with this uhm, this situation — and I’m still sorry for asking-! But do you… need money?”

Namjoon laughs heartily, genuinely — not mockingly like how Jungkook does.

“Yes, I need money,” he confirms breathlessly in between chuckles, sneaking a smile from your lips. “But I’d much rather give you companionship for free. I bet you’re already blowing through money with Jungkook who doesn’t even say thank you for anything.”

“Jungkook’s my first sugar baby too,” you meekly counter, shrugging your shoulders. You feel oddly brave in a burst of energy, partially influenced by how Namjoon didn’t even skip a beat from preventing Jungkook to make an even bigger fool out of you. “I mean, there’s nothing wrong with having two sugar babies right?”

Out of the entire time that Namjoon’s been with you, he’s actually speechless for once and not the other way around.

While Namjoon seriously considers your offer though, Jungkook stews in his own anger. It’s too potent and too irrational, he thinks it might be jealousy.

dun dun DUNNNNN!!! so far, there are five chapters of IV up :D if u wanna read them now + gain early access to general fics + read exclusive content — subscribe to my patreon :D

also, to get ahead of questions, i'm not yet sure if i'll also post in vain here on tumblr :O but IF i do though, it'll be around mid-2024!! :D

#sneak peek

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lightlycareless · 1 month

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I keep thinking of naoya making a fool of himself around y/n and y/n just being confused (idk) like he tries to get her to like him but it doesn’t turn out well😭 , idk if that made sense sorry!!😔

Hello!!

Awww this was really sweet to think about, however I got confused in the end and made it somewhat of a happy ending lmao.

Well, I still hope you like it!! (If anyone wants angst tho, I do recommend reading my valentine's day special. But I too been wanting to write something heart clenching for a while, might get onto it....)

warnings: highschool au. naoya likes you but he doesn't know how to approach you. he is ridiculous.

Happy reading!!

A silly Naoya is more like an overconfident Naoya, the type of guy that will never stop bragging about ANYTHING just to make you look his way.

It's certainly worse when he's barely starting to acknowledge his feelings, getting to that point where he finally says "I think I like her."

To stand out and get your attention is something Naoya never thought he'd need to do, simply believing that his title as heir of the Zen'in and his outstanding achievements as sorcerer would've done the trick—but they didn't, and now, he had to put in the work.

Thus, the borderline ridiculous demonstrations of his persona, courtesy of Ranta's advice; though if it’s worth anything, this is not what he envisioned.

"Can you believe he didn't want to accept my assignment only because I didn't hand it over in a folder? That's so stupid, can't wait to get him fired as soon as I—"

"Wait, Naoya, Y/N's coming!"

"ANYWAYS I WENT TO THE MALL THE OTHER DAY TO THIS LUXURIOUS STORE AND BOUGHT JUST ABOUT EVERYTHING THERE AND STILL HAD MONEY TO SPARE, GEE WHY IS EVERYTHING SO CHEAP NOWADAYS??? AND PEOPLE STILL COMPLAIN ABOUT THE ECONOMY!! I JUST WISH I HAD SOMEONE TO SHARE ALL MY MONEY WITH—did she look??? Did she turn around to see me??"

Ranta sighs.

"No."

"Ughghhhhhhh what do I need to do to make her see me?!"

Though frustrated, he does not give up.

"—yeah, I think we're going to this super expensive resort for the weekend. I personally preferred to travel out of the country, but you know how my father is, lazy as always. If it were up to that old man we’d never leave the—and now??? Did that work?? Is she looking??"

But the results are the same.

Naoya would keep on trying, loudly proclaiming things that in his mind would eventually earn him your interest, or at least a simple glance….

Until he, eventually of course, tires himself out. Sorrowfully finding that his endeavors had been nothing but fruitless as you continue living your own life, without Naoya in your consideration.

You’re slowly becoming someone unreachable to his grasp, and while he doesn’t plan on giving up just yet, he does intend to take a break, maybe reconsider his possibilities… before coming to a conclusion where you might not be involved anymore.

And what better way to clear his mind than indulging in one of his favorite activities—secluding himself at the rooftop of the school building to read the newest release of his favorite manga.

Unaware that someone else might be there, coincidentally… the person he wished nothing more than to be with.

"What are you reading?" You'd ask upon noticing the intense stare of the young, somewhat handsome man, he’s giving his magazine.

"Do you mind? I'm bus—o-oh!" He freezes upon realizing it was the girl of his dreams talking to him, cheeks burning red as he closes the manga and looks away. “Don’t—Don't you know it's rude to sneak up on someone like that?!"

"Ah, sorry!" You chuckle, slightly embarrassed. "I didn't mean to startle you, it's just that you looked so concentrated, I couldn’t help but to be intrigued! Is your story really interesting?"

"...it is" Naoya murmurs, gaze returning to you—he almost glances away yet again at your closeness, but your beauty makes it almost impossible to do so. "It's the latest chapter, I waited a whole month to read it."

“A whole month…?” you repeat. “Wow.”

“Yeah, it was a long time—"

“Hmmm, not quite.” You teased. “I’ve waited years just to see the continuation of my favorite series! Talk about dedication.”

“Huh, well, I don’t think it’s the same—this felt worse because of how good it is.”

“Really? I don’t know, I can’t believe you—I have to see what you’re reading for that. You grin, he smirks.

“Is that so? Then don’t let me stop you from finding the truth.”

And Naoya happily obliges, both excited to share one of the things he enjoys the most with the person he adores most, as well as the fact that you’re finally setting your eyes on him! After all this time!

He considered it to be incredibly unexpected, and perhaps a bit silly how it came to be, unable to believe that it took so little to impress you.

But as soppy as it sounds, there is truth in admitting that there is no better way to get someone to like you, than by being yourself.

omg that was so fluffy agkjasjghasjkghjsa cheesy too ahahahahah damn I surprised myself for sure!!

Rest assured, you heard Naoya do all of those things and consistently thought "Is he ok? Why is he yelling?"

After the two begin to date you'll tell him how weird it was of him to do all that hahahah though... "You didn't have to do that, I already liked you." Naoya feels even sillier :^)

Anyways, I hope you liked it!! I'm sorry this didn't end up in a sad note, I read the request very quickly and ended up understanding you only wanted an interpretation of Naoya being silly—though I do want to write something sad between the two, him messing up and all that. Luckily, I have the perfect excuse for that through other asks hehehehehe

Thank you so much for sending in this ask and for your patience!! Take care, and hope to see you soon ❤️❤️❤️❤️

#ask #naoya zenin #naoya zen'in #naoya x reader #naoya zenin x reader #naoya zenin x you #jjk naoya #naoya zen'in x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x you #prompt series: jujutsu kaisen

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derangedanomaly · 2 months

Note

Ok so hi (●’◡’●)ﾉ i have a teeny tiny request and yeah its long so ahem.

There are two female friends the best of friends like to peas in a pot but they aren't similar in any way shape or form (Example↓)

The first friend is a more feminine mature woman, you'd mostly see her dolled up for herself, soft spoken, confident in herself, maybe even have a bit of a rich parent background and not the best relationship with her parents, she is the only child and since getting everything she's basically in on money is everything and all of that, she's a bit bratty and a little insecure because no one really stays and if they do it's for the money or status

The second friend is more rough home tomboy, well not directly, she dresses in what makes her feel comfortable and all of that, normally seeing her dolled up is a whole other can of worms, she's loud in a way, strong no body walks over her at all, she's maybe from a more middle class background with a lot of brothers and she has to work for what she wants often getting her hands dirty when climbing or maybe fixing a car, since being a girl in a house full of boys she feels a bit over looked, and she thinks she's not taken seriously most of the time.

Long story sort these two are friends who balance each other out despite being so different in many ways

Now for my request, which one do you think the Bad Sans Boys would fall for from these two friends (It could be One, Two or maybe Both depending on the situation)

Interesting request I must say, I didn't really know what "special thing" to do with this particular request, so I just answered your simple easy question. (I apologize if this sucks. I tried my best 🤷‍♀️)

MASTERLIST

BAD SANSES TYPE

NIGHTMARE:

Nightmare would probably like the first woman more. He can't put up with troublemakers, so he tends to avoid the second woman.

KILLER:

Oh, the second woman for sure! He probably at first went for the first one, but after a while of the first one not caring for him, he slowly went for the second one. But the relationship could also only be a friendship. If you wish so.

DUST:

Probably the second one. He doesn't need a dressed up primadona in his life. Nightmare is enough. He likes to let loose sometimes, so the second one is the obvious best choice for him. Though he himself is pretty serious/edgy. So it'll be like polar opposites. But it's ok, he likes that.

HORROR:

Horror probably doesn't care. He'll go for the one that gives him the better food. He doesn't really have much preference. 🤷‍♀️

ERROR:

He also doesn't have much preference. The one that respects his personal space is the one that he'll like more.

#undertale fandom #sans undertale #undertale #sans x reader #horror sans x reader #nightmare sans x reader #dust sans x reader #killer sans x reader #error sans x reader

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yuugen-benni · 1 year

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HELLOOOO may i request childe diluc and thoma with reader that has adhd and dyslexia? Thank youu

Hi! Thank you for the follow and request

Note: Always with requests like this i research a lot as I can, but If I said something wrong about ADHD or Dyslexia please tell me!

Thoma, Diluc and Childe + ADHD/Dyslexic!Reader

Thoma:

Thoma has a big heart and naturally cares about his partner, no matter the circumstances. Another point is: Him. He is. Helpful. You can count on him for literally EVERYTHING

Forgot something important, keys or wallet? He knows exactly where they are

Anxiety or restlessness that is affecting everyday life? He has his arms open with a drink (of your choice) on the counter.

Want to express something but having difficulty? Say it any way you can, he'll be there to listen!

Thoma discreetly makes you take little breaks during the day: he suddenly appears and says ''Oh..I didn't know you were here!'' and asks if you want some Boba or his best way to spend the time: read to you :)

(And when I say he likes to read to you, HE LIKES A LOT. It helps him understand Inazuman literature and helps you read)

''[...] By the way! Is there anything i can do for you ? or rather...do with you ?''

Diluc:

He is not very ''present'' like Thoma, who can always help you. BUT this does not mean that he doesn't care

From the moment you tell Diluc about the ADHD and Dyslexia, he is visible more patient with you than with other peoples;

He ''adapted'' his own mansion for you, putting important day-to-day things in a specific dresser and even a "routine board", or simply: a board full of post-it notes with your activities to help you remember ( And at the same time write);

(Speaking of writing… imagine taking short reading and writing classes with Lisa! She would be so sweet ;3)

Also, Diluc loves to hear everything you have to say. Any random facts, weird thoughts, your favorite things or just dumb questions. Listening to you makes him understand how adorable and smart you really are. Fills lonely nights in the Winery. it Makes him smile…

''Don't be late for dinner this time, I know you and Lisa love to talk but.... sigh….I can't wait to hear how your day goes''

Childe:

We know how Childe is, and if you want a boyfriend who motivates you: he is perfect The compliments never end. I'm not talking about fake or unrealistic compliments, I'm saying about words that can be simple like ''I'm proud of you'' but…can make your day so much better. Compliments can be helpful for everyone, especially those with mental, physical or emotional problems.

Childe is the type of guy who always looks up to you with pride because he knows it's hard for you to just do an easy thing, and being tough is not the right way.

He guarantees he'll help you with ''his way''….aka money. He traveled ALL over Teyvat, if you want he can easily find a doctor, a teacher, a therapist, buy objects that help with focus and anxiety. EVERYTHING.

Now, talking about family: Childe's family is amazing. imagine your siblings accidentally asking you to read a book to them but you're a little embarrassed because of your dyslexia but then Childe comes along and offers to read it to you all and-.........

Let's finish here

Reblogs and feedbacks are greatly appreciated!

resquest OPEN (for now only for BSD and GI)

#benni #sorry for my bad english #genshin impact x gender neutral reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #childe x reader #childe #genshin tartagalia #diluc ragnivindr x reader #diluc ragnvindr #diluc x reader #thoma x reader #thoma genshin #thoma hcs #ajax x reader #genshin x reader #genshin thoma

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heartbreak-sandwich · 3 months

Text

Marmalade Stream of Consciousness

Well, I typed up random thoughts and quotes and moments while watching Marmalade for the first time, so here's this, I guess lmao. Spoilers below the cut

STREAM OF CONCH, HERE WE GOOOOOOOOOOOO

"you scared the chickens out of me." OKAY, BARON, YOU LITTLE ABSOLUTE SWEETIE.

"escapes, beeeeitch." OTIS OMFG. I LOVE OTIS.

"I swear...on my hair." Baron is the best. But just when you think you know his capacity, he surprises you. he might seem simple, but there's definitely more to him.

CROCHET, not CROQUE lmfao.

Awwww the moon pies...watching Baron take care of his mom squeezed my sad heart.

Listening to him describe his town to Marmalade when he first met her was just the cutest, most earnest thing. "It's the only place I ever knowed." He's just so fucking SWEET, it makes me want to cry.

FROM THE BEGINNING, Marmalade sketches me out. She talks about how "some sleazebag" gave her Big Bertha (her car). Even Baron questions her like "he just gave it to you??" and I bet there's a story there. Has to be.

And the way Baron talks about his dad....couldn't some see him because he was too busy building a rocket and then he blew up in space? Oh, honey....the dude needs a hug.

Marmalade is obviously striking the manic pixie dreamgirl chord immediately. There's something fun and magnetic about her, but also obviously red flag central. I'm excited to learn more about her. The way she just immediately inserts herself into Baron's life is so unsettling.

"You can borrow my nose. They smell beautiful, just like you." OKAY BARON, YOU LITTLE BABY SWEETHEART LMAO

DAY TWO, SHE'S LIKE "Let's rob a fuckin' bank." HELLO?!?!?!?

Enter Otis, once again, being the most normal person in this entire movie lmfao.

Baron hesitates on the bank idea, and Marmalade is immediately like "I LIKE U" kisses his face....I see what ur doing here, girl. I see u.

I honestly cannot tell if she's being genuine, but my money is on probably not.

Hearing Mama Eda's coughing in the background of their lovely moments makes my heart sink. Wow.

"Shoot the camera with what?" Oh, Baron. Oh, honey lamb...

The way she CACKLES when Baron gets scared by the gun, oh my god.

(I'm really not a fan of the nickname "Puppet." Shit makes me cringe for him - more foreshadowing imo so far)

HIS MAMA MARMALADE JAR TATTOO OMFG.

"GOT ME OVER HERE FEELIN' SHIT. I'M INSPIRED, MOTHERFUCKER." Otis is the realest lol.

THE WAY HE ALMOST FORGOT MAMA EDA'S MOON PIES OH MY GOD NO. She's distracting him from his mom while she needs him, I'm gonna cry for real....

OH GOD THE SCARE. THE SCARE. I was going to LOSE MY MIND if she had died right there. And he noticed something's up with the pills.....and Marmalade's all passed out? Hmmmmmmm.

Damn...when Baron pressures Marmalade to tell him about her life... you know she's been through some shit. And she's running from more than she lets on.

Oh, God. Her story breaks my heart... and Baron does his best to comfort her. Bless him...

THE ABSOLUTE TERROR ON BARON'S FACE AS MARMALADE ROBS THE PEOPLE AT THE ANTIQUE SHOP?! Poor boy. Oh my god....

"I was just playin" oh my god.

And he starts to try to back out. He wants to. And she comes back with "She's gonna fuckin' die." this POOR BOY. SOMEONE HELP HIM.

AND WHEN HE WANTS TO GO CHECK ON HIS MOM.. and Marmalade says "I can do it." I don't trust that. I do not trust that at all....I gotta know what's going on there.

BARON'S LITTLE ASTRONOT ON HIS CEILING, I can't... crying.

AND NOW SOMETHING'S WRONG WITH MAMA EDA. Conveniently as soon as Marmalade went to go see her?!

AND SHE DIED?!?! WHAT THE FUCK. NO. NO NO NO NO NO. Fuck this.

Oh, Otis..... my heart. :( I just want to give him a hug. Also bless him for looking out for Baron.

"Clench your buttcheeks" lmfao. Good advice, Otis.

"I think you got somethin' in your braid." BARON NO.

Aaaaaand now they're fighting.

OTIS OH NO. He was just trying to protect Baron :( poor Otis.

OH MY GOD SPECIAL AGENT OTIS??!?!?!?!??! HELLO WHAT?!

SAME DRESS, SAME MISSPELLINGS, SAME WRITING, BABY DOLL BANDIT?! Okay. She's on some real shit. I need to know more.

Aaaaaand Baron calls her. Rule Number One, all jail phone calls are recorded unless you're calling a secure attorney line. The End. Never, ever, ever do what he just did.

He doesn't need to rob the bank oh my god..... AND HERE SHE GOES AGAIN WITH HER BULLSHIT. And she's PREGNANT?! THAT WAS FUCKIN FAST?! Oh, Baron, no, no, no, no, no.

And she's such an asshole to him about being the driver.

Ngl, I think he outfit is so cute tho. Courtney Love vibes.

Okay, I love the dance number lmfao. Please tell me that's actually them dancing. I need to know. AND THE SEQUINS.

Marmalade squeals with delight. Baron screams in terror. My feels.

"Somethin' doesn't smell right." YOU BET, BABY. TELL HER WHAT'S UP. Poor baby is so uncomfortable.

"How come you know so much?" HE'S NOT STUPID. DON'T UNDERESTIMATE BARON.

"I might've done this once before." YOU DON'T SAY, MARMALADE. YOU DON'T SAY.

"Did you just fart?" ->->->->-> "I thought you can't smell." HE'S ONTO YOU, MARMALADE.

I just know the baby's fake. I just know it. I know it in my heart.

AND HE FINDS MAMA EDA'S PILLS IN MARMALADE'S CAR.

Oh, he has the gun on her. Oh, boy. Oh, baby.

Poor Baron. He's just unraveling, poor baby.

"It was just Mama Eda's time." Kinda wanna punch her, ngl.

Oh now the police are here and BARON... "We gotta go outside and apologize." THIS POOR BOY IS TOO GOOD.

God, I STILL cannot tell if she's ever being genuine. And I almost think she held Baron up for just a SECOND longer so he'd get caught and she could run.

RUN BABY RUN PLEASE OH NO. Oh no. He's too good. Baron's just too good.

OKAY. But he's for real pushing him out there.

Oh, they're tracking him. And Ted with his Shakespeare quotes lol.

Awww....Baron goes to visit Mama Eda first thing... sweet boy. I just want to hug him. :(

THE POOR DUDE IN THE CAR, he was so terrified. Of course the car was ditched. Of course.

The fuck is he pulling out of that chimney? Newspaper clippings?

OKAY WAIT. WHAT'S THE JAR OF MARMALADE ON MAMA EDA'S GRAVE FOR. WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING NOW.

Baron......BARON?!?!?!?

WAS SHE FAKE THIS WHOLE TIME?!

HE'S CUTTING HIS HAIR?!

He ain't no dummy. Baron is NOT stupid. QUITE the opposite, I think, at this point.

Oh. My god. WHAT is happening.

Joe Keery dressed as a mystery woman. All right.

"Take care now" WHAT IS HAPPENING. OH MY GOD. The way he takes that wig off and how fucking stoked he is lmao.

"There is no girl." WHAT.

OKAY SEXY JOE KEERY IS BACK WASSUP.

L-A-M-R-A-M. Huh. Pharmaceuticals. I am so confused.

OH BUT THE LOOK IN HIS EYES.

I am SO FUCKING AS;DFJSA;ODIFHSD; WHAT IS HAPPENING.

This dude's money. Who is this dude. Have I missed something. Oh, Don Frankels, CEO -- BARON PHARMACEUTICALS?!??!?!?!?

OH MAN, HE WAS NEVER NO SIMPLETON. THIS IS BIG BUSINESS.

Oh, but he has a white cane......

OH. OH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Oh, I don't like Don. We don't like him at all.

JAR OF MARMALADE. HE WAS THERE.

Okay but WHO IS HE AND WHAT IS GOING ON. I NEED TO KNOW MORE. NEED.

"What's real, what's fake?" MY QUESTION, TOO, TED.

OKAY THE FUCK?! What's in the envelope.......

"Sorry for your loss." ->->->->-> "My what?" WHAT THE FUCK.

"I'm taking care of my mother. I hope you'll do the same," AND A TICKET TO JAMAICA. HE KNEW THE WHOLE TIME?!?!??!!?!?!?

HE KNEW. THE WHOLE TIME.

IS HIS MOM ALIVE?!?!?!?! IS SHE?!?!?!?!

I'm crying. For real, I'm crying.

He's just delivering meds to all these boxes....?

AND EDA. THE MOON PIES. HIS MOM. OH MY GOD!!!!!!!!!

AHHHHHH IT WAS SO GOOD. SO FUCKING GOOD. I LOVE LOVE LOVE THIS SO MUCH!!!!!!!!!!! Ugh, I could not have prepared myself. SO fucking good. Will watch again and again.

#marmalade #marmalade film #honestly it was so good #I coudln't have asked for anything better #marmalade spoilers #so in love with this film

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lonesome-witching · 7 months

Text

Punches

I am very tired, so I don't really know what to say as like a nice introduction to this story. It was an anonymous prompt which pretty much said that Nancy and Ted where fighting and Robin defends her girlfriend. There is a little bit of violence in this one and hints of homophobia from Ted.

You can read my previous prompts or send me some new ones.

Can you hand me the salt, dad?

It had all started with that one simple question. Nancy had asked Robin over for dinner and now she was shouting at her father.

Although maybe it hadn’t started with that question, maybe it had started with the response. Maybe it had started with the groan Ted Wheeler had let out. It could have been the reluctance in him complying. Although it probably had been the question he had returned.

“When will you find yourself a husband?” he had muttered the question, like he didn’t want to actually ask that. Maybe there had been another question burning on his lips.

“Actually, dad, I am dating Robin.”

“Robin? Who’s Robin?”

Karen cleared her throat. “That’s Robin, Ted.” She pointed toward her daughter’s girlfriend. Karen knew. Karen had known for a while now. She hadn’t been ecstatic, but she had assured her daughter that the most important thing was that she was happy.

“That’s a girl.”

“Yes, I’m dating a girl,” Nancy confirmed, stabbing her food with her fork.

“Nancy, when will you finally grow out of these shenanigans? You need to be with a man. You need a husband. You don’t need this— this Robin. She might dress like a man but she certainly ain’t one.” Ted Wheeler pushed his fork into his mouth, still grumbling around it.

“Excuse me?” Nancy spat out. “How the hell would you know what I need?”

“I am your father.”

“Are you? You’ve never behaved like one. All you do is sleep in your recliner and spit out hate towards people you’ve never met.”

“You ungrateful girl. I have been working my ass off to keep a roof over your head, to keep your plates filled. You have been spending my money on your fancy colleges and frilly clothes and then you go and disrespect me like this! You will find yourself a nice young man and you will stop seeing this Robin, you hear me?”

Nancy jumped up. “How dare you? You sit here pretending you work so hard when you have been gifted everything. Grandpa got you your job. All you do is sit behind a desk and type some numbers on a typewriter and you call that hard work. If you honestly think anything you say will keep me from Robin, you must have hit your head.”

Ted stood up too. His face was red with anger. “Do you think you’re smart? You are nothing but a stupid girl.”

Robin stood up too, her hands clenching into fists. She had to keep the anger inside. She had to stay on the Wheeler’s good side. For Nancy’s sake.

“You are stupid, and you are foolish, and you have no idea what you are doing. You don’t know what life is like. Acting like little miss Nancy Drew, running around like the little reporter. You are worthless. The only thing you’re good for is what every woman can do. Be a mother, be a wife. And yet you refuse to do that. For what? To be a dyke?”

Robin couldn’t refrain herself. The anger had been building up. It had been building and building and now she snapped.

She barely realized that she had rushed around the table until her knuckles collided with Ted’s nose.

“Oh, dear!” Karen exclaimed, jumping up as well.

“How dare you say that to her? How dare you? You are the worthless piece of shit. Not Nancy! How dare you?” Robin pushed against his shoulders and pushed again, until Ted stumbled over his feet and collided with the floor.

“Robin?” Nancy was pulling at Robin’s shoulder. “Hey, look at me.”

Robin finally turned away from Ted Wheeler to stare at his daughter. It was a vast improvement. The realization of what she had done crawled up on her. But before she could say anything, Nancy pulled her away.

It was only after Nancy had closed the bedroom door that Robin started freaking out.

“I punched your dad. I just punched your dad and now your parents will hate me, and they’ll forbid me from ever seeing you again and— and— and I punched your dad,” she said, talking to Nancy’s back. She could see Nancy’s body shake. “Shit, are you crying?”

Nancy turned around with a smile on your face. “No, I’m not crying. I’m laughing. Because you punching my dad might have been the best thing that I’ve ever seen.”

“Wait what?” Robin sat down on the bed.

“I think it’s really hot you stood up for me like that. And you shouldn’t worry. My mom is not going to hate you and even if they forbid me from seeing you, I’ll just sneak out every single night to crawl into you bed. Maybe it could be thrilling to sneak around again.” Nancy sat down on Robin’s lap. “How does your hand feel? Does it hurt?”

“A little.” Robin lifted her bruised knuckles.

“Here, let me.” Nancy kissed each knuckle. She slowly kissed all over Robin’s hand before pressing her lips against Robin’s, pushing her down on the bed. “I feel like I should thank you, what do you think?”

Robin quickly nodded her head.

#prompts #ronance #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #my work #stranger things #fanfic #robin x nancy #nancy x robin #ronance fic #ficlet

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chinahatbeach · 1 year

Text

Thoughts for Today

Good evening! I changed it up today. I normally get up and put down my thoughts but today, I had stuff to do and daylight burning.

I had to fax my timesheet for one job, so out the door I went. I then went to Winco to get assorted ingredients for homemade dog food and assorted items that are on sale and a better price. Then off to JoAnn’s fabrics which is near Winco. I needed a couple of small items but got sidetracked by fabric. I found more ‘chicken’ fabric.

Got home to mixing up the dog food and baking 10 loaf pans of dog food along with baking chicken hearts. While they baked, I cleaned the chicken yard and installed a new bird home for the birdies to build their nests and have babies. I have five homes for the birds to build nests and have babies. Makes me happy.

During the time I worked on cleaning the chicken yard, the neighbor lady wanted to talk to me. She was crying (really was crying) about how her water had been used when the construction guys put my fence in a couple of months ago. They left it running…. and she was very upset. I tried to calm her down, I called the construction dude and asked him to fix the problem. This is the neighbor who has MS and isn’t well.

Well, I made calls and came back to work on the chicken yard and she wanted to talk to me. She cried and cried and was so upset. She has no hope or life, she can’t sleep and is depressed and has horrible anxiety, and her doctor said that it’s hard to get Adderall for her as there is a national shortage. She is a mess and needs help. I stood there and shared that she really needs to trust in God and put her faith in Him. He is our hope and healer. He is our everything. She has nothing to lose, everything to gain.

She can’t use her shower as it’s falling into the floor. She has enough money to survive and no money to fix the numerous house problems. I helped her before but it was never enough. I can only pray for her. She has excuses why she can’t do for herself. She wants someone to run her life.

And people wonder why I can’t ‘people’ some days. I find so many folks like my neighbor. They suck the life out of you. The saying, “you can lead a horse to water but you can’t make them drink,” comes to mind. I really enjoy my time by myself. I could live a solitary life with no problem. My ‘people’ skills have been worn down and I find I need more and more alone time.

I find more and more people I come into contact with that are not able to do simple life skills. We have a weak people……… fast food equals not taking the time to make real, homemade food. People who do not want to think for themselves and have someone do everything for them. People who couldn’t survive for long in a major catastrophe.

YouTube can give you a wealth of things that make you go, “I can do it.” I’ve found videos on how to make stuff via my sewing machine. I’ve never considered making stuff. I passed Home Ec but the sewing section was not my favorite part of it. I decided to try my hand at it during the plandemic and I find I can do stuff. The other day, I made something that didn’t turn out and thought of giving up. But, I told myself, “self, shut the heck up and do it over”. I did and succeeded. NEVER give up!

Well, I came home from evening work, dished up all those 10 loaf pans to freeze up and have food for my doggos. Dished up my meatloaves (2) for the freezer, and figured I better type out my thoughts.

Here’s a question for ya… have you ever tried a new craft or something else and just gave up? Did you say, “Oh heck no, I’ll try it once again!” Well, never give up. My neighbor lady has given up in so many areas of her life. If only she would turn around and try once again. And maybe let God take charge……. give it into His hands and pray. Praying heals the heart and soul, helps others, and God is always there for each and every one of us.

And that’s the way it is………..

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princess-of-the-corner · 2 years

Note

Avatar Ty Lee AU:

I don't remember if this was asked but how does The Blind Bandit episode go?

Okay so overall they end up at the same underground tournament. And have fun watching because even if none of the contestants are the 'right teacher', they are good Earthbenders.

Though the one contestant 'Fire Nation Man' gets a shared look of 'my dude........ The fuck.....'

Anyway!

Eventually we get to 'the Blind Bandit'. Which has Aang and Ty Lee go 'oh shit she's the girl from the swamp vision!'(which has the rest of the group realize 'oh shit that made sense why do sentences like that make sense now?')

I'm gonna have Ty Lee be the one to try and talk to her and she's a lot more rambling than Aang and just starts straight up talking even as Toph is like '???? We're supposed to be fighting??? No I'm not going to teach you leave me alone???'

Eventually Toph gets knocked out of the ring like in Canon, and just disappears when anyone tries to chase after her.

The group starts looking for Toph outside in town. And they eventually hear about the Beifong family, but no one in town ever heard of them having a daughter(which.... is Canon).

This.... honestly raises some red flags. So when they talk to the Beifongs and meet Toph again, they're a bit more delicate instead of nearly outing her 'double life' and causing less tension during dinner.

Later, Ty Lee and Toph are the ones talking in the gardens.

And I want this talk to be a lot longer and like. Ty Lee saying more on the 'You're not happy here. Sure, your parents might in their own way love you. But do they love /you/? Do they love the person you really are?'.

And Toph tries to be aloof about it, but Ty Lee has already seen through that persona. So she admits that she's a little terrified of it. Because it's one thing to sneak out and kick ass at Earth Rumble. But to actually run away on her own for real? Oh, for sure she believes she could. But she fears less that she won't make it out there alone, but more that if it does end up that she isn't able to do so, that it'll be about her being 'blind and helpless' less than it is about her being a child.

Ty Lee is all 'well, you could always run away with us. We've seen you. The real you. And we all have our issues and things we can't do. We rely on each other not because we have to, but because we want to. Because it's good to have people around who have different skills. That way, you'll still be somewhere you can be purely just you, but you don't have a fear of failure."

Toph low-key points out the whole 'if I join you, if I teach you Earthbending, then you're dragging me into the War'

And Ty Lee does admit to that. Toph shouldn't join if she doesn't want to get involved there. But she has a feeling that Toph isn't the type of person who would sit back if she could help, just because it's 'safe'.

Toph says she'll think about it. And then we get them all ambushed by the whole Earth Rumble crew. Ty Lee is varying levels of 'damn it why am I always the one getting kidnapped???'

Eventually that ransom note is found and while it seems simple on the 'hand over the money' thing, the whole Gaang suspects something is up and goes along ready for a fight.

Yeah they're right because while Toph is allowed to go free we get the 'hm, lets hand over one of the Avatars to the Fire Nation'. Whcih like. To be fair, the Gaang and even Toph's parents call them out on that like 'My dude??? You're willing to hand over the /AVATAR/ to the /FIRE NATION/?????? And all you random pro wrestler fucks are cool with it?!?!?!"

Toph remembers what Ty Lee had said. About how she doesn't seem like the type to stand by when someone's in danger to save herself. This is only spurred on by her parents saying they'll get her out before the fighting starts because she's so helpless.

Like in Canon, Toph pretty much oneshots the whole group. And it's badass as FUCK.

Toph tries talking with her parents. About how she is, in fact, just as capable as anyone else. How she loves what she does and she's not that 'perfect little girl' they wanted. And they react exactly the same in Canon. Terrified for her, still in denial because she has to be helpless, right? She has to be that fragile little girl and this was just a one off, right? And they tell the others to leave and that Toph is getting even less freedom than before.

Ofc the Gaang is already talking to each other like 'okay so. Who's turn is it to plan a kidnapping?'.

By that point Toph shows up like 'haha yeah my parents changed their minds and said I can come with you!'. But they call her out like 'You ran away didn't you?' yeah....

But hey half of them are runaways so let's fucking go!

#avatar!ty lee au

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wanderingrain · 1 year

Text

Thoughts on Never Let Me Go Ep 5

I really don't like Palm's dad. There is no excuse for treating your kid the way he treats Palm. If someone tells Palm "it's because he loves you" I'm going to scream. People don't abuse and neglect their kids out of love.

Oh it wasn't a panic attack after all. Cross it out of the books people. We're back to one (1) accurately portrayed panic attack in BL. (You're My Sky)

Anybody want to help me make Palm's dad mysteriously dissappear?

Neung's mom says "You are the most important person in my life." And i can see Neung mentally being locked back up inside his birdcage. Look at his face.

Neung trying to give Palm what his dad refuses to. I know a lot of people probably just want Neung to say sorry right now but I don't think he knows how. Also it's not really the place to have any sort of emotional talk. But he saw Palm ask his dad to care for him and get denied so he's trying to do what Palm asked for. He's saying 'I see you and I care' while also trying to stay nonchalant.

Now he's kind of trying to say sorry with writing on the cast.

I will enjoy any sweet little moment you throw my way. Them looking into each other's eyes will get me every time.

Oh no Ben. I can never tell if he's trying to shade Palm or if it's just the subtitles that make it sound that way.

This poor cast of kids who feel like who they are isn't enough because of their crappy parents. It's hard when there are parts of yourself that you find joy in but you know you can never share them with your parents because they would ruin it and turn it into something bad.

Literally cannot decide how I feel about Ben. This is maddening. Are you friend or foe? I blame Tumblr.

The orange of Neung's horse's tack matches the orange on Palm's shirt.

Maggie thank you for the product placement but please stop this. Please find a new crush, preferably a girl. I'm so tired of girls who are only in the story because they have a crush on one of the leads.

Why do Thai BLs choose Christmas music in the most random of scenes? It baffles me every time. 🤣

Every time they show me the outside of Neung's house, I'm reminded how dark this show is. I keep trying to turn up the brightness on my laptop. I respect it as an artistic choice but I do wish the show was a bit brighter.

Ahh yes the 'you already spent money/ time on this thing for me but I'm giving it back to you' trope. Otherwise known as the "I may be poor but I don't want your handouts" trope. Annoying. Been done before. Encourages people to be the "right type" of poor person, like if you just work hard enough you can stop being poor as if it's that simple.

Oof this whole conversation. That's all I'm going to say about it.

Maybe I'm not the target audience for this show. Anybody wanna round up all the parents in this show and make them disappear? I knew I would hate Ben's dad but wow is my blood boiling.

Finally a person speaking up for themselves in a situation like this.

I honestly don't blame Ben for caving. His dad seems like the type who would beat him for being gay. It's really not safe for him to come out in that situation.

I can breathe again Chopper is here! Perth is so beautiful. Chopper's hand on Ben's. I love him and I'm almost positive nothing he does will change that for me.

What? Cast? Why? Huh? Moving on I guess.

I love a good breakdown when it's deserved and boy was this deserved. I feel so bad for all these boys. Neung's been bullied and/or used by every kid in his life at this point. Poor baby was gonna crack.

Neung's face is in purple light and Palm's face is in pink light. I don't know what it means but it feels significant.

There's the apology.

Was not expecting Palm to be the one to make the first move. Also yeah that is definitely a kiss.

Neung leaning into Palm makes me so soft

Oh wow so his mom does notice that he represses himself around her. Ok Khun Thanya is the only parent we save. Let's hope that she sticks by what she says when she realizes Neung doesn't want the business. If this show ends with him running it I will be very angry. I'm sick of shows where parents force their kids to give up on their dreams in order to run the family business and it's seen as a good ending.

Not Palm being unable to stop smiling. 🥰 His dad's about to ruin it I can tell.

"I don't care about your happiness." Dad tells son who smiles in front of him for the first time.

"Other people should be afraid of you." Uhhh how about nobody's afraid of anybody? That's not a weird and suspicious thing to say at all. (Sarcasm)

Show I literally just took Khun Thanya off the kill list, what are you doing?

It's interesting. Neung literally just said "I'm not going to run away" and then immediately the people who have power over him forced him to run away. Every time he tries to take power for himself, he's pushed back down and told that it's not his to take.

I don't watch the previews for next the episode because i like to go in blind so if you comment please don't talk about the preview. Thanks for reading!

#Never Let Me Go #Episode 5 #Palm #Neung #Chopper #Ben #I'm enjoying the show when I'm not getting mad at it #Can't wait for Chopper to become more important to the plot #I do love Palm and Neung too #Hopefully this is the end of the love triangles #Get Maggie a GF 2023 #WanderingRain

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spoiledpooh45 · 2 years

Text

Just need to vent

Where do i begin? Well all my life i have felt broken and defeated i guess you can say. I watched my own parent go thru things and this probably affected my life in a huge way but as a child you really don’t know the difference you just go with the flow. I mean personally I was never abused or anything like that but it was a very dysfunctional home maybe at some point i might write about that but I think i just wanted to try and put my feelings somewhere that they might be able to be heard and maybe help someone else and maybe if i am lucky enough someone can help me also. So when i got to the age of knowing what right is my parents finally decided to get divorced and then things went from bad to worse. I watched my mother get into a worse relationship with a person who did not care enough about my mom to not put his hands on her. She would cover up the abuse and lie about things which i now understand the principle behind that. I’m not saying that was right but i understand it. Then things wound up happening there and i moved out and began my own life and relationships. I got pregnant with my first child at 17 and if i look back on that relationship it was probably some type of abuse but I was to young and blind to admit it. Moving forward i then got in a relationship 5 years later and got pregnant with my second child, this relationship was definitely abusive- physical, mental, financial everything i was the punching bag for it all no matter how “good” i thought i was being it was never enough. Now in the midst of these two major relationships i found out i was a type 1 diabetic and honestly i would never take care of myself. In the beginning it was i felt that i was being cursed for whatever reason and then in that second relationship i mentioned it was my form of not wanting to live or die. Let me explain that part- i knew i had my children and I knew i was the only one they had because their other parent was no where in the picture. So consciously i wanted to live but sub-consciously i did not want to keep going thru the abuse of my second child’s father. I was constantly in the hospital due to what’s called DKA because it would be days or weeks even when i would not take my insulin because i just didn’t want to explain to anyone what i was dealin with. Finally i was strong enough to leave that relationship and I honestly don’t know where i got the strength from but i did. Then i started taking care of myself but i also have always struggled with being jealous and insecure whenever i am involved. SO this brings me to currently i am with someone for about 3 years and what i thought was the best thing in my life is turning out to be exactly the same without the physical abuse. I do not feel good enough he is constantly lying about stupid things and then when i bring it up i am always wrong or imagining things. It’s like a never ending battle, then he convinced me to move from my home state where my entire family is and I’m here in a new place for almost 10 months now and I haven’t met a friend out here yet( maybe its because of my lack of trusting people) maybe its because i am very introverted now I don’t know but i can say I know i am very depressed and its killing me slowly i know this much. HE has me here alone and he does what he wants and has cheated several times and then says oh I’m not stopping you from doing anything you can do whatever you want, if only it were that simple though. I want to leave and in my heart its telling me to leave but i have no money to pack up and go anywhere and i also have three dogs that i will not leave with him because although he doesn’t hit me he does hit the dogs and whenever i try to defend them the argument gets worse for us but in my mind I’m like they don’t have a voice so i am their voice. I just feel so broken and i keep asking him why does he stay with me if he wants others and he tells me he does that to get my attention because i am so hard on him and he wants me to realize that he loves me so much but I’m like how do you love me if you keep doing this. Help me !!!

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yanderechuu · 2 years

Note

I do not condone yandere tendencies in real life buttttttttt....................

I have bot mommy and daddy issues and i'm fucking touch deprived. I grew up having no friends and no one wants to cuddle or give me affection. Call me weird and anything but I find comfort through your fics. Trust me I love boundaries but the other side of me also likes the thought of people just always being there for me and just giving me affection in particular. I love how they all just always be there for me cause I literally grew up having no one. I know that it's so fucking weird and many people already call me that but I just like it🙂 or maybe my parents didn't just gave me much affection😀

[1.4K]

not weird at all to find comfort through fics. i think it’s a healthy coping mechanism too, reading fics for comfort instead of anything else that is far more deleterious.

also

yandere momo + shoto to satiate your mommy and daddy issues, really.

warning: coercion, nonconsensual ddl[g/b]

│

Even if you aren’t willing, they can and will reduce you into a sugar baby good for nothing but to serve as their own relief. They have the money and resource for that but not the time, especially if the timeline is established in UA, where all three of you are only students.

But I imagine they take it as a challenge to dilute you into submission, more so if you’re someone known for your hardheadedness and independence; you’re capable of fending for yourself and you very much prefer doing things on your own. It’ll start out small, their ploy, like assisting you with the littlest of things or accompanying you wherever you go. You’d notice this, of course, and you would brush it off as simple acts of service - something they do with others, too. But sometimes it tended to be annoying.

Both are delusional to a degree - they’re insistent with their belief that you’re really just some adult-wannabe child. Inside, all you want is affection and Tender Loving Care; you’re just too prideful to admit it. But even with being delusional, they’re both incredibly smart. It doesn’t matter if you have the same level of intelligence as them; you most likely have no match when they decide to pair up. And to your misfortune, they did.

Momo’s the more nourishing type. She acts so motherly and had it not been for the romantic and occasionally sexual gestures then you would’ve thought that she just wanted to be a mom or something. She loves to spoil you without expecting something in return - they both love to, but in her case it’s like an addiction at this point. She’s been pampered all her life, now she finds entertainment in pampering someone else.

She also tends to be the more infantilizing out of the two. It’s weird how her infantilizing actions are only exclusive to you; had she been treating everyone else like that then you would’ve let her slide.

“Oh, let me do that for you. You might spill on yourself.” Momo says upon spotting you pouring the hot water from the electric kettle onto your mug. Taking the appliance from you, she holds your wrist to pull your grasp from it, but you persist, eyeing her suspiciously.

“No, I’m good.” You reply.

“Oh no, of course not, let me-”

“Yaoyorozu, what’s the matter?”

She cringes inwardly. You’re still addressing her by her last name, she’d have to fix that up for you. “It’s YaoMomo.”

You ignore her correction and continue, “I don’t always need help, you know? But you treat me like some disabled person and it’s the fourth time of today that you’d given me unwarranted help. This isn’t even the fourth time out of all days.”

She laughs like you just said a joke. “Of course,” she places a hand on the small of your back, “I’m just making sure you don’t make a mess.”

You look at her incredulously.

“You must be exhausted from training a while ago,” she rearranges, “it must have affected your body mechanism and all, like how your limbs shake after a particularly strenuous exercise. You do experience that, don’t you?”

Fair enough. At least, it’s better to consider that than to suspect she’s been wanting to dumb you down so you’d have to worry about nothing but her satisfaction in your pretty little mind.

They continue to do all that, aiding you with things you’re more than capable of doing and allowing those backhanded derogatory statements to linger so that it’d be gradually instated in you that you couldn’t do shit without them, that you’re prone to messing up without their supervision.

But your independence is less of a trait and more of a personality. Instead of understanding that they’re all you ever need, you become entirely vexed, and begin avoiding them after they didn’t heed your request of leaving you the fuck alone. Seriously, what was their problem? You only intended to mind your own business and there they are minding it too.

Todoroki’s less of the nurturing and more of the strict type - but not quite like Endeavor because he takes note not to be like his father. He’s the strict that only chooses options which he believes are best for you, regardless of whether or not you agree to it. He dictates what you eat, whom you spend your time with (he just keeps you to himself or Momo, really) and even what you wear whenever you go out. If he gives you gifts you never ask for, spoils you like how Momo does, he sternly expects something in return. He’s also way into the sexuality that your daddy/mommy issues bring more than Momo. He’ll advance more brazenly like the concept of consent doesn’t exist to him. He’s a percentage more delusional than Momo is.

At one instance during work study, you caused yourself an injury in the stomach due to your own negligence. Todoroki so happened to be there as you pathetically crawled to safety amid all the debris and fallen concrete.

He yelled out your name, in an instant running over to you and kneeling, bringing your midriff over to his lap.

“It hurts, oh fuck it hurts, ah,” you keen, hunched across his thighs.

Of course, he’s worried shitless that you’re injured, but this is the closest he’s physically been with you, so he’s on cloud nine, saying, “Shh, don’t worry, daddy’s here.”

And then you freeze, confusion and disgust as one expression gradually making its way to your face. “Todoroki, what the hell?”

“...sorry, it just slipped-”

“Even so, that wasn’t-” you pause, narrowing your eyes, the pain of your gash not quite concerning you as his statement did, “wasn’t an accident, that word. I don’t understand why you’d address yourself as that to me.”

You wait for him to explain himself further to a point that you’d allow to let it slide, but he allows silence to ensue, so you take it upon yourself to get your body off of him.

But suddenly he weighs you back down and presses onto your searing wound.

“Todoroki- ah, ah! Stop! What are you doing?!” You try to get his hand off you in pitiful attempts.

He doesn’t let you prevail, only pushing down farther. “Yaoyorozu’s told me to tone it down, but I don’t think I can any longer, especially when you’ve been acting like a brat all the goddamn time.”

His voice has the same intimidation as Bakugo’s. The unnerving composure just adds to it.

“You think you’re so smart, huh? So independent that you refuse our help just because you can? It gets on my nerves, baby. You have no idea.”

You wheeze and squirm and try not to let the tears fall from your blown, glistening eyes. His hand still remains on your injury, and if he doesn’t let go anytime soon then you’re bound to faint from the excruciating feeling.

“Now, you call me daddy, or I’m going to make you regret not doing so.”

“No, no, no, stop this- what the fuck-”

An ice shard digs into your torn skin and you wail in pain.

“Daddy, daddy please- stop it- ah!”

“Tell daddy you’re sorry, baby.”

“I’m sorry, fuck, fuck! I’m sorry daddy! Please!”

He abruptly lets you go. “We’re gonna have to work on your vocabulary.”

He’s insane, you think as you heave and hiccup, face flushed and fatigued from having to endure your gut being poked in a vulnerable state. He’s cooing and caressing you like you’re some toddler just done from a tantrum, as if he isn’t the one who caused your crack-up in the first place.

You’re both barely eighteen and he coerces you into satiating his daddy kink. you don’t care if he had some fucked up backstory which resulted him into having that; it isn’t your position to deal with it. You aren’t even that close with him. If anything, you thought he would have confided better in Midoriya.

Speaking of which, the green-haired hero appears in a while, spotting the both of you on the ground.

“Todoroki, (y/n)! What happened?!”

“They got stabbed by an iron bar when the building collapsed.” Todoroki informs, even having the audacity to click his tongue in faux rising panic and add, “It’s not good. They're losing so much blood.”

Izuku doesn’t have time to reply when the ice-fire quirk user brings you up with him in a bridal carry to get you out of the vicinity. You’re unconscious now, head lolling on his bicep as he jogs to a clearer area free of falling debris and cement dust. He’s excited to see how you are now that he’s practically forced you into submission, but for the mean time he’s got to tell Momo everything about your little bonding time with daddy.

#dont fuckin at me its my first time doing daddy/mommy kink #yandere todomomo x reader #momo yaoyorozu x reader #yandere shoto x reader #yandere momo yaoyorozu x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #todoroki x reader #yandere momo x reader #yandere shoto todoroki x reader #yandere bnha #bnha x reader #yandere bnha x reader #yandere #yanderechuu

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invisibleanonymousmonsters · 3 years

Text

Childhood

Father of Mine – Part 1 and Part 2

+ This Game of Ours

Jason’s eyes snapped open at a sound that no human should be able to hear.

Ever since he’d been resurrected from the Lazarus pit, his senses had grown abnormally acute – amongst other strange things.

Sometimes he swore he could even hear Y/N’s heartbeat. It was easiest to do with her, after all he was so intone with her very being.

But all of that made nearly impossible for anyone to sneak up on him – let alone in his own home. Which someone was. He could feel it.

Jason’s eyes glanced down at Y/N, who was sound asleep on his chest.

Ever so carefully, he lifted her body off of him so he could slip out of bed.

But Y/N was a light sleeper, unfortunately. She must’ve inherited that from Bruce, even though she wasn’t even raised by the man.

Y/N winced as her eyes opened just in time to see Jason grabbing one of his hidden guns from below their bed frame.

“What’s going on?” Her voice raspy.

“Nothing,” Jason lied. “Stay here.”

Now that she found out about another hidden gun in their apartment, Jason knew he was going to return to a lecture from Y/N. She never hid her hatred for guns, and had asked him to keep them out of their apartment.

“Jason…” Y/N whispered desperately, now more awake and concerned.

“Stay here,” Jason said, more firmly this time.

Then he quickly kissed her, leaving even less room for her to argue.

In only his black boxer briefs, Jason snuck out of their bedroom and into the living room without making any sound. Y/N had always been shocked at how quiet her giant boyfriend could make himself.

Just as Jason raised his gun, he heard the familiar voice.

“Put some clothes on, Todd.”

Damian stepped out of the shadows.

To Jason’s surprise, he was in civilian clothes and not in his Robin uniform.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, breaking in like that?” Jason reprimanded as he uncocked the gun.

But before Damian could defend himself, the bedroom door squeaked open and Y/N was rushing out into the living room.

“I told you to stay there,” Jason growled.

Y/N rolled her eyes at her boyfriend’s overprotectiveness. “Obviously I recognized Damian’s voice, Jason.”

Then Y/N looked at her half-brother for a second and quickly realized Damian had come there for a reason.

“Everything alright, Damian?” She asked carefully.

“Yes,” he lied.

Jason remembered when Damian despised Y/N. He saw her as a threat to his claim to the Wayne throne. But Y/N had immediately made her intentions clear. “I have my own reputation, money, and career that I built without a name attached to me. I want nothing to do with Wayne Enterprises,” she had told Damian as soon as she realized he saw her as some sort of competition.

It took Damian months to even acknowledge Y/N. And he really only did because both his father and Dick – basically his surrogate father – scolded him for not doing so.

Slowly but surely, the two grew closer.

Y/N didn’t put up with Damian’s attitude. But she also didn’t scold him like a child. If he was rude or aggressive, she spoke to him the same way she would speak to a grown man who behaved in such a manner. Somehow it made the boy slowly start to respect her more.

Eventually, they bonded over their mutual love of the arts. Damian was impressed with her photographs, while Y/N was honored whenever Damian decided to share his drawings with her. Y/N had gifted Damian his first camera. And Damian once gave her a few lessons on the basics of sketching and painting.

Who knew Waynes were the creative type?

And it was when Damian’s pets all seemed to be obsessed with Y/N that the boy finally decided to get over his original opinions and feelings.

It was by no means a short or easy battle. But the rest of the family was relieved when Damian finally accepted Y/N as one of their own.

“How about I make us some hot chocolate?” Y/N offered Damian.

The boy just shrugged, but she noticed his eyes subtly light up.

She never understood why he refused to let himself feel joy in the simple things. It was like she could catch him stopping himself from being a kid.

“I’m going to bed,” Jason announced with exhaustion.

It was clear to him that Damian came to see his sister, not him. And he was nice enough to leave the two of them alone. Even though he was a bit bitter that his girlfriend was being stolen from their bed.

Before turning back to the bedroom, Jason invaded Y/N’s space and gently grabbed her jaw before pressing a kiss to her lips.

“Gross,” Damian groaned.

Jason glared and pointed at the boy. “You’re in our apartment, demon spawn. I’ll kiss my girlfriend if I fuckin’ want to.”

Y/N just laughed as she watched Jason close their bedroom door behind him.

“Come on,” she nudged her head in the direction of the kitchen. “Let’s make some hot chocolate. I think I have some of Alfred’s cookies hiding somewhere, too.”

“I don’t know what you see in him,” Damian mumbled.

Y/N smirked and shook her head. Tonight, she wasn’t taking the bait.

Once Damian decided he didn’t hate Y/N, he jumped right to making it known that he did not think Jason was good enough for her. But she knew it was an act – mostly.

“Why aren’t you on patrol?” She asked casually once they had giant mugs of hot chocolate and cookies in front of them, making sure to give the boy extra marshmallows.

“I’m grounded,” Damian muttered.

Y/N tilted her head. “Grounded?”

It seemed like a far too normal concept for a family of vigilantes.

“Yes,” Damian confirmed.

“I’m guessing that means Bruce and Alfred don’t know you’re here…?”

“I snuck out,” he admitted.

“Why did you get grounded?”

“Father found out I was skipping school. And then that I skipped the school dance.”

“Why does it matter if you skipped the dance?” She asked, clearly confused.

Y/N was also struggling to imagine Bruce caring about such a trivial thing like that.

“Father wishes for me to have normal experiences that young man of my age is expected to have,” Damian said with a roll of his eyes.

“School dances are lame,” Y/N commented.

Damian sat up straighter, not expecting that to be her response.

“I skipped prom. I didn’t want to go,” she added.

“Why not?” The boy challenge, somewhat caught off guard by that.

Y/N shrugged. “Bad music. Bad dancing. Tacky dresses. Just wasn’t all that appealing to angsty, teenage me.”

Damian just nodded slowly, and then got quiet.

“I have no desire to be normal,” he finally stated after a few minutes.

“I’m not taking his side, but I get why Bruce wants you to do these things, Damian. You were robbed of a lot of things because of the way you were raised. I’m not saying that it’s bad or good. But I think Bruce just wants to give you the opportunity to experience the life of a – well...of a kid.”

“And was your life normal?” Damian quickly asked.

Y/N nodded. “So normal that it was boring.” She laughed, “My entire life was normal until I met all of you weirdos.”

That got a smile out of Damian.

But then it slowly dropped and he seemed to get lost in his head.

“I don’t…I don’t have any friends,” Damian finally whimpered.

Y/N was shocked by the boy’s emotion.

Damian was always composed.

“It’s like they speak a different language. And it’s one I can never learn.”

“Oh, Damian,” Y/N sighed as she rushed from her seat to kneel beside him. “I know it must be hard to try and fit in. But you’re not doing anything wrong. None of that’s your fault.”

“Father is more than aware that I don’t need the education,” Damian’s voice shook as he tried not to cry. “He only forces me to attend so I can make friends. And that is one thing I am unable to do.”

Y/N let him breathe and have an opportunity to continue before she spoke again.

“I hate school, so I skip. And the school dance seemed so ridiculous to me, so I skipped that too – even after father specifically requested that I attend.”

Y/N sighed, “And did you tell him how you’re feeling when he grounded you?”

Damian shook his head no.

She hadn’t expected anything different. She could easily imagine Damian lashing out at Bruce when he received his punishment, saying that the requests were a waste of his time and beneath him.

Damian was good at hiding his emotional pain – maybe even better than their father.

Y/N was sure Bruce didn’t have a true understanding of what Damian was going through.

“Can I stay here tonight?” Damian asked.

“Of course,” she gave him a sad smile. “How about we take this hot chocolate to the couch and watch a movie?”

Damian shrugged. But it wasn’t a no.

Y/N let him pick the movie.

He chose Fantasia.

When Y/N didn’t hide her surprise, he explained that he respected the animation and loved all of the classical music. Even when they did a child-like activity, he still always found way to remind the world that he was no normal child.

An hour later, both of them had fallen asleep on the couch with the movie still playing.

When Damian felt another presence, he awoke with a jolt and grabbed his hidden knife, holding it to the throat of the intruder.

But it was Jason, gently bringing Y/N’s sleeping body into his arms.

“Once again, demon spawn, you’re in our apartment,” Jason hissed with annoyance.

The man was completely unfazed by the feeling of a blade threatening to slit his throat.

Damian huffed.

“I’m taking her to bed,” Jason explained the obvious. Then he nudged his head at the love-seat across from Damian. “There’s a blanket right there if you want to sleep on the couch. Or you can sleep in the guest bedroom.”

But Jason paused, with Y/N sleeping in his arms, as he noticed a strange look on Damian’s face.

“What?” He urged.

“If you ever hurt her, I’ll kill you myself,” Damian growled softly.

Jason looked utterly unimpressed. “You’d have to get in line,” he answered, making sure to keep his voice quiet to prevent waking Y/N.

But then Jason’s face softened. “Look, kid, I think you know that she’s the best thing to ever happen to me. I’d die before doing anything to mess this up.”

“Hmph,” was the only noise Damian made in response.

Jason rolled his eyes and carried Y/N back to their bedroom.

In all honesty, he couldn’t fall asleep while she had been in with Damian. With Jason’s weird enhanced hearing because of the pit, he was able to catch a bit of their conversation.

Jason softly place Y/N back in bed and pulled the covers up to her shoulders. When he joined her on the other side of the bed, she didn’t even wake as she slid back into his arms.

Now Jason could finally go to sleep.

When there was a knock on the apartment door the next morning, Damian and Y/N shared a look.

“I’ll get it,” Y/N sighed.

Jason had made all three of them breakfast that morning.

But now Damian pushed the food around his plate, knowing this was the end of his small rebellion. Who knew what his new punishment would be?

Y/N opened the door to unsurprisingly find her father.

Bruce was wearing a full suit, despite it being a Sunday morning. On top was a heavy, black overcoat with the back of the collar slightly propped up.

“You could have least told me he was here,” Bruce greeted his daughter.

She smirked mischievously and shrugged. “I’m no snitch.”

Damian appeared behind Y/N, not seeing the point in dragging this out any longer than necessary.

“Alfred’s downstairs with the car,” Bruce told his son evenly.

The disappointment in both his expression and tone was obvious.

Damian looked up at Y/N. “Thank you for having me, Y/N.”

“Next time, use the actual door so you don’t give me or Jason a heart attack.”

Damian smiled at that before walking past his father and down the hallway.

“Can I talk to you a second?” Y/N asked Bruce.

Her father seemed surprised by the request, but nodded anyways and closed the door behind him.

“I think Damian is really struggling – more than you think, I mean.”

Bruce’s brow furrowed and he crossed his arms. “He hasn’t even been remotely injured from patrols in months…”

“No, Bruce,” she quickly cut off. “Not as Robin. As Damian.”

Bruce was quiet.

“He doesn’t know how to fit in, Bruce. And you’re putting a lot of pressure on him to live a normal life. Bu he’s never gonna have normal. That was taken away from him before you even knew he existed.”

“He said that to you?” Bruce asked.

She nodded. “In so few words, yes.”

“And I’m assuming you have some advice,” he quirked a brow.

“Well, yeah. Maybe you should just homeschool him.”

“Y/N, the whole point of him going to school is to be around kids his own age. We both know the education is beneath him already.”

“But that’s the thing, Bruce. He’s never going to relate to any of those kids. Going to school makes him feel like a freak. Let him get homeschooled.”

“He needs to learn to make friends,” Bruce argued.

“You’re right. He does. But not with the spoiled brats of Gotham Academy. How many superheroes are you friends with?”

“He doesn’t consider them friends!” Jason shouted from the kitchen.

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Fine. How many superheroes are you acquainted with, who have kids around Damian’s age?”

Bruce’s jaw tightened.

“I know you like to keep your personal life away from Batman. But those are the only kids that Damian is ever going to relate to in some way. Do you get what I’m saying?”

To her surprise, Bruce nodded. “You’re right.”

Her brows shot up. “I am?”

Y/N had really expected him to fight her on this.

Bruce chuckled. “Of course you are. Out of everyone in this family, you are the only one who can say they had any semblance of a normal childhood.”

Suddenly his phone dinged and he glanced down at it.

“I have to go,” he regretfully told her.

When he looked back up at her, his face softened. “Come to the manor soon for dinner,” he asked her gently.

She gave him a soft smile and nodded, “I will.”

Bruce nodded in the direction of the kitchen where Jason was hiding. “And bring that one with you, will you?”

Y/N laughed. “He’ll go wherever I go. He’s like a puppy, that one.”

“I can hear you!” Jason called out.

Bruce laughed and stepped forward to give Y/N a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you for looking out for Damian, Y/N.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Bruce.”

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#jason todd x reader #jason todd reader insert #red hood x reader #red hood reader insert #father of mine bonus content #Father of Mine #bruce wayne x daughter #bruce wayne x daughter!reader #damian wayne x sister!reader #batboys #batfam #batman family #batsis #batfam x batsis

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scuttling · 3 years

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Lavender

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 9,244 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Dad's Best Friend Friend From Work Hotch, Me turning a naughty, smutty story into something way more aka my specialty, Fingering, Unprotected sex, Oral sex, Semi-public sex, Office sex Summary: You absolutely dread going home for vacation, to your sickeningly cheery childhood bedroom and opinionated parents, but meeting your dad's friend from work at a stuffy cocktail party has the potential to make this a vacation you'll never forget.*Requested by anon, severely altered by me 😅 Link to A03 or read below! Most people would jump at the chance for an unexpected two week vacation, but you are not most people. When your boss emailed you to inform you that there had been some kind of glitch in HR’s system and you actually had two weeks of paid vacation that were set to expire, your anxiety had kicked into high gear. There isn’t enough time to coordinate travel with any of your friends, too short notice, and you’re kind of afraid to travel alone, though you’d never admit it, so that’s out.

There’s always the prospect of hanging out at home, catching up on all the shows you started but never had time to finish, doing things you’re always too busy for, like cooking and cleaning out your closet and going to the animal shelter to pet the dogs and cats.

Unfortunately, those dreams are crushed when you accidentally let slip during a call to your parents that you have the time off, and they literally insist you come home, will not let you get off the phone without confirming your plans.

You only live about an hour away from them, but for one reason or another, you rarely visit.

The minute you step into your childhood home, you’re reminded of why you rarely visit.

“There’s my little do-gooder!” Your dad is all but waiting at the door when you arrive, pulls you into a hug despite the fact that your hands are full of luggage. “Let me look at you.” He pulls back, hands on your shoulders, acting like it's possible something has changed about you since you had lunch together a month ago in DC. “Oh, you’ve got that serious lawyer hairstyle now,” he remarks with a chuckle, even though your hair is styled the same way it was at that lunch. He might not mean it to come out this way, but it sounds condescending.

“That would be appropriate, considering I am a lawyer,” you remark, trying to keep the snark out of your tone. You know he always means well. “You look good.” He takes his hands off of you and puts them on his stomach.

“Your mom has me on some kind of greens and beans diet, says it will help me live longer.” You smile, a little awkward, not sure what to say about that—your dad is typically the meat and potatoes type, so you figure some variety can’t hurt, but if you say that you’ll never hear the end of it, and you’ve already got a headache.

“Where is mom, anyway?” You shift your bag on your shoulder, and your dad clues in, takes it from you and starts walking up the staircase.

“Oh, she’s at the gym, then taking care of some last minute things for the party.” You pause at the base of the stairs, sigh softly.

“Party?” You weren’t told about any party. Your dad keeps walking, and you’re forced to follow.

“Yeah, nothing major, just some people from the office and their spouses coming over for drinks tonight. Maybe some of their kids,” he adds innocently, and you can’t help rolling your eyes.

By kids, he means sons: eligible sons to try to set you up with. You wouldn’t mind being in a room full of hot, single men vying for your attention any other time—in fact, it’s been a little while, and your most recent hookup was lackluster, so you’re a bit more tightly wound than usual—but the kinds of men your parents bring around aren’t your type at all. You’re career driven yourself, but all they want to talk about is how they plan to be the youngest partner at their firm, or the clubs they can get into, or worst of all, money. Your potentially somewhat relaxing vacation just went to shit in no time at all.

“I didn’t bring anything to wear to a cocktail party.”

“I think mom got you a dress, honey. Check your closet after you get unpacked.” He pushes the door to your former bedroom open, and you’re assaulted by the color lavender; somehow you’d actually forgotten how purple it is. “You’ll look beautiful no matter what you wear.” He sets your bag on the bed—oh god, the frilly purple comforter, you may have actually repressed that memory—and you drop your other luggage there too. “I’ll give you some time to get settled in, maybe order some lunch for us? Vesuvios?”

As irritated as you are about the party, it’s sweet that he remembers your favorite restaurant. You went there for dinner after you graduated from high school, college, and law school, so there are lots of great memories associated with the place.

“Do they adhere to the greens and beans diet?” you ask with a grin, and he puts his finger up to his lips to silence you.

“What mom doesn’t know won’t hurt her, right?” You shake your head fondly, and he slips out of your room and leaves you to it.

You start unloading your clothes into the empty dresser, hanging them in the closet that holds things like your prom dresses, graduation gowns, old cheerleading and volleyball uniforms. Every touch of silky fabric is a memory, and at this point in your life most of them are good, even if they weren’t at the time. It’s kind of nice to remember where you came from, when where you are now can be so hectic, so fast-paced you don’t see the forest for the trees.

Feeling nostalgic, you walk over to your desk, where you spent so much time with your face crammed into textbooks it’s not even funny, and flip through your old stationary set—what teenager had her own stationery? You were a total nerd—and photos you’d taken off the mirror but left sitting in a pile to be packed away eventually.

You snap out of the past after that, finish putting your toiletries away, setting up your laptop and chargers where you want them, then shove your empty suitcases in the closet and grab your phone to head downstairs.

You meet up with your dad in the kitchen, where he is opening steaming takeout containers full of Italian food. You grab some plates from the overhead cabinet and lean against the counter, look over the offerings to decide what you’ll have.

“So how are things at the ACLU?” he asks with a bit of a teasing tone. You’re well aware of the fact that he thinks you could be doing more—translation: making more—in private practice, or working for the government like he does, but neither of those things interest you and he is well aware of that.

“They’re really good, actually. We’re working on a disability rights case now that will probably make national news if we win.” It’s been forever since you had penne arrabbiata, since it’s not very easy to eat at your desk without running the risk of staining your blouse with spicy red sauce, so you load up your plate with it, add wilted spinach for color, a piece of garlic bread because it’s garlic bread. You lick your thumb, and your dad points a finger in your direction in that way that means he’s about to give you life advice.

“When you win; if you’re not confident about your capabilities, no one else will be.” You roll your eyes good-naturedly, nod, because that’s a pro tip you’ve heard time and time again. “If you came to work at the bureau, you’d win more of your cases; Constitutional law isn’t easy.” He says that like you don’t already know, like you haven’t been working in your current department for more than a year. You sigh.

“I’m not really the bureau type, dad.” You take your plate over to the breakfast table, sit down and start to pick at your food. Arguing about your chosen career path is enough to make you lose your appetite, even for your favorite dish. Your dad follows, sits across from you.

“You’re so smart, honey, you could be if you wanted to.” He takes a bite of fettuccine alfredo, points his fork at you. “Hey, maybe you could talk to Jim from the Office of General Counsel tonight—or maybe Aaron. You’d be really interested in the work his team does.”

“Who’s Aaron again?” You don’t recognize the name, so he’s probably not one of the attorneys on your dad’s team, but he works closely with so many departments you might have heard it before and missed it.

“Friend from work. He’s the unit chief at the Behavioral Analysis Unit. They’re criminal psychologists or something. Profilers,” he says, snapping his fingers. “That’s what they call them. They get into criminals’ heads, analyze them and interrogate them. I know you minored in psychology, I bet he could get you an internship.” You laugh at that, because he always gives you advice about furthering your career, but that’s a step backward for you and he can't be so dense not to realize it.

“An internship? I’m a little old for that, don't you think? Not to mention I have a job that I love.” You stab at your food, more than a little agitated by the current conversation.

“Never too late to get your foot in the door, sweetie. It’d be great to see you more, that’s all I’m saying,” he adds, ending on a gentler note, and you sigh. Your mom does it too, but your dad is an expert into guilting you into doing what he thinks is best. Unfortunately, you’ve never handled guilt very well.

“Okay. I’ll talk to him, if it means that much to you,” you promise, and you both smile and make easy small talk for the rest of the meal. The dress your mom bought for you for the party is a black, sleeveless, designer cocktail dress, something more form fitting than you would normally wear—she is evidently trying very hard to find you an eligible bachelor tonight. You pair it with your favorite jewelry, simple heels, and when you head downstairs your mom acts like it’s prom night all over again.

“Oh sweetie, you look so beautiful!” She puts her hands on your arms, spins you around. “You’re looking too thin—must be eating a lot of salads on that paralegal salary,” she throws over her shoulder to your dad, and they both laugh. You wish life were a documentary so there was a camera you could look into with an unimpressed expression.

“I’m a staff attorney actually. Fully accredited,” you add, but it’s no use. If you don’t follow in your dad’s footsteps, you will always be seen as living beneath your potential, and therefore always the butt of these types of jokes.

You love them, really, and you know they love you, but they are not the most supportive pair by a long shot. They made sure you got into a great college, let you follow your law school dreams—and you’re grateful, won’t deny their money is a privilege so many other people in your position do not possess—but that was only because those were their dreams as well. As soon as you told them about taking the position at the ACLU, it was like the tables were turned, and instead of your accomplishments, all they saw was wasted potential.

It’s enough to keep you away most of the time, which sucks, but it is what it is. It’s easier to love them from afar, so that’s what you do.

At the party, you shake hands, talk about the weather, introduce yourself to so many middle aged white guys and their sons that their faces all start to blur together. After half an hour you excuse yourself, head to the bar for a drink, and come to stand next to a middle aged white guy you have not introduced yourself to—this one, you’d have remembered, because he is tall, broad, serious looking, and very handsome.

If you were a dog, he’d have your ears perking up, no doubt about that. Instead, your heart just races a little.

“I have to say, these FBI parties are even less fun than I thought they’d be,” you comment as you wait for your drink. The man lifts the corner of his mouth in a slight smile.

“Get a bunch of men who are past their prime in one room, and all you hear about are the glory days. Can’t get a word in edgewise.” The bartender hands you your glass, and you turn to fully face the stranger.

“Why aren’t you talking about your glory days?” You immediately kind of want to slap yourself. Your social skills have been exhausted tonight, apparently. “I’m sorry, that was rude; I didn’t mean to insinuate that you’re… past your prime.” You give him a brief once over, because he deserves it, is even more gorgeous up close than you’d initially assessed; he chuckles softly, sips on his own drink.

“It wasn’t rude, it was… shrewd.” His own gaze lingers on your face, maybe the neckline of your dress, just a little. “Your father’s really happy you’re here, wouldn’t stop talking about it.”

“Yeah, he's one of the most ambitious people I know; he gets an idea in his head and won’t rest until he’s seen it through.” It’s a quality that sounds good on paper, but when it’s constantly being applied to your life, it’s more tiring than anything. “Right now he’s trying to get me to bully one of these poor guys into giving me an internship, as if I’m not twenty-nine years old with a career of my own.” He wets his lips, laughs again.

“I think I’m the poor guy—Aaron Hotchner. I’m the unit chief overseeing the BAU.” Wow, 0 for 2. This guy’s got to think you’re a complete idiot. He extends a hand and you shake it firmly, melt a little because his palm is so broad, his fingers so thick.

“Right, I’m so sorry. Feel free to tell me right now that I’m not the right fit, and I’ll slink off and hide in a corner somewhere for the rest of the night.”

“No need for that. You strike me as someone who would be a great fit for my team, if that was something you actually wanted.”

You aren’t looking for a career change in the slightest, but you can’t deny it would be tempting to report to this man every day.

“It’s not that I’m not curious about what you do; my dad told me a little, and it sounds really intriguing. I just have a lot on my plate right now. If the offer had come up before I started my current job, I would be all over it.” You smile, shrug. “Unless you could have me intern for the next two weeks I’ll be on vacation, I’ll have to politely decline the offer you haven't actually made me.” You smile, and so does he.

“Now who’s ambitious?” he asks with a raised eyebrow; the way he says it, like he finds it charming, makes your face heat a little. You’ve never connected like this at one of your dad’s FBI events, and even though there’s no way it ends well—if anything even starts—you feel the need to see how far you can go. Even if it’s just a little flirting. Even if it’s just tonight.

“Have you ever been here before tonight?” you ask after a beat. You take a sip of your drink, and he mirrors you. You lean in a little closer.

“Once, briefly. I didn’t get a grand tour, or anything.” You smile—bingo—and reach out to place a hand on his arm.

“Oh, I’d be happy to give you one, if you like. Usually my dad is all about it, but he looks occupied.” You both glance across the room at where he is in the middle of a group of men—still discussing their glory days, no doubt—and Aaron looks at you again, nods.

“Sure, I’d love one.” You show him around downstairs, the backyard, the garage—he doesn’t seem to care about the cars at all—and then go upstairs, show him guest rooms, the master bath your mother recently remodeled; he gets a little closer as you go, and you smile more, flirt a bit. You stop outside the door to your room, block it with your body while you talk about the art hanging in the hall; he’s very good at reading your body language, apparently, because he leans closer to you, puts his hand on the doorknob next to your hip.

“What’s this room?” he asks, feigning innocence, and you put your arm over his.

“Oh, no, we’re not going in there. That’s my old bedroom.” He smiles, and you grimace.

“You mean the room I most want to see now? Come on.” He turns the knob, hears it click, and you cover your face with your hand, sigh.

“This is going to be really embarrassing. It’s exactly the way it looked when I went to college, and that was over ten years ago.” You push the door open with your hand, walk in and flick on the light. Aaron follows, chuckles.

“It’s... purple. Cute.” He makes toward the bed, touches one of the frills on the comforter with his big, broad hand. The juxtaposition of your innocent lavender bedding being stroked by the fingers you can’t stop staring at is a very interesting one.

“No, it’s not cute, it’s horrifying,” you say, and when he walks toward the open closet, you begin to regret this little tour. He pulls out your prom dress, your cheerleading uniform.

“Cheerleader, huh? You don’t seem the type.” He looks over at you, and you push it back into the closet, lead him away from it with your hands on his arms.

“I’m not. It was important to my mom.” The two of you are by your dresser now, and he leans in to look in the mirror, at you standing behind him and not his own reflection.

“I see. Do you always put other people's needs before your own?” You sidle up next to him, and he turns to face you.

“This is what you do, right? You… deduce for a living? Like Sherlock?” That makes him laugh, which in turn makes you smile.

“It’s called profiling, but that’s accurate enough.” You feel a challenge brewing inside you, take a step closer to him.

“Okay… What can you tell me about myself by looking around the room? Remember, this stuff is from ten years ago; a lot could have changed.” He crosses his arms, nods.

“You’re right, but your core values wouldn’t have.”

Slowly, he walks around the room, taking things in, touching things, looking back at you briefly and then rifling through parts of your past. It’s a few minutes before he speaks again.

“I think your father wants you to work at the bureau, and you don’t want to because you’ve always felt like you’d live in his shadow if you followed the same career path. You want to blaze your own trail, do what fulfills you, not let his last name be what moves you up the ladder.”

That’s all scarily true, so you nod, cross your arms, lean your butt against your desk.

“I think you’re afraid of commitment because you don’t think any relationship you’re in will ever measure up to what your parents have.” That stings a little, but he’s not wrong. He points to a flyer stuck to a cork board, something about a charity project you’d worked on that revolved around recycling. “Environmentally conscious: I bet you drive a hybrid, and if your dad bought it for you, it’s a... BMW.”

He glances back, and you encourage him to go on. He points to a copy of your Georgetown diploma hanging on the wall, then picks up a cheerleading trophy on your dresser.

“You were a cheerleader to please your mom, went to Georgetown to please your dad, excelled at both; you’re an only child, so you felt you couldn’t let them down. My question is,” he says, looking up at you curiously, “what pleases you?” The words make your heart beat fast; you lick your lips, tilt your head.

“Not much.” He comes closer, arms crossed again.

“Why?” God, that’s a loaded question for a Friday night, for the first day of your vacation. You absently wonder if he’s going to bill you for this impromptu therapy session.

“I find it difficult to ask for what I want,” you ultimately say, and he moves even closer. His stare is probing, and you speculate that he may have been a lawyer before the FBI. The look on his face is the same one you’ve seen in many courtrooms over your short career.

“Of course you do. You’ve never done it before. You've spent your whole life asking other people what they want from you.”

You feel very seen, and you kind of hate it, but you also kind of like it—that he’s able to dissect you like this is a huge turn on. What that says about you, you’re not entirely sure; maybe that you enjoy being seen for who you are—for all that you are—instead of who you know, or who you could have been, for a change.

“I think you didn’t lose your virginity until college—your second year.” It feels like bringing that up is a bold move for him; he doesn’t meet your eyes when he says it. “I would guess you got drunk for the first time around then, too. Your first year you were trying to navigate the feeling of not being under anyone’s thumb anymore; your second year, you finally felt like your own woman, you wanted to try new things, but it made you feel out of control and you don’t like that. Even now you only drink socially, never to get drunk.” He is directly in front of you now, and he reaches out a hand, brushes it over your cheek. “I also think you gravitate toward men you find inappropriate and unattainable so you don’t have to worry about being the reason your relationships fail.”

He looks into your eyes with a questioning gaze. It’s a painfully accurate take, but he softens the blow with the gentle touch.

“Wow, you’re kind of an asshole,” you breathe, but you smile, and he laughs low.

“Maybe. But am I wrong?” You nod your head, and his face falls a little, so you narrow your eyes to mess with him a bit.

“Only about one thing: I actually drive a Kia hybrid. And I bought it myself, for your information.” He smiles, and you press your hands against his chest; it’s crazy how quickly he drops back into the serious expression you first saw him wearing by the bar. “Are you unattainable and inappropriate?”

“I work with your father; we’re the same age. We play golf together sometimes.” He doesn’t seem uncomfortable, doesn’t back away or remove your hands. You slide them down his body, over his stomach, stop at his belt, and he looks the way you feel: tightly wound, aroused, a little breathless.

“That doesn’t really answer my question, Aaron. May I do some profiling of my own?” You look up at him, curious, and he nods.

“Be my guest,” he murmurs, and you lean back. You rake your eyes over his body slowly—there’s no mistaking your appraisal for what it is. “No ring on your finger, but there’s no way you haven’t been married before. My guess is you’re divorced, and it wasn’t your idea.” You look up at his face, smile softly. “Sorry. You weren’t exactly pulling punches either.” He huffs a laugh.

“You’re right: I wasn’t pulling punches. You’re right about the divorce, too. Go on.” You nod, hum.

“Okay. You have a strong moral compass; you always do what’s right, even when it’s difficult. It’s what makes you such a great leader for your team. You like to go by the book, you’re a Fed through and through—but when it comes down to the bureau or the people you care about, you’ll fight the establishment with all you have. You aren’t a blind believer in the government; you have your criticisms, and you aren’t shy about voicing them.”

“Unlike your father,” he says, and you sigh. “You don’t have an appreciation for his work.”

“No, I really don’t.” Your dad specializes in Freedom of Information Act litigation—he does his best to keep the FBI from actually living up to its commitment to be transparent with the American people, and it doesn’t sit right with you, never has. You may both be attorneys, but you could not be more different if you tried. “But I’m profiling you, remember?”

“Right. Please continue.”

“This might be going out on a limb, but I think you went to law school. The way you speak, and the way you looked at me earlier? It was a little like cross-examination. Am I right about that?” His answering smile actually looks pleased.

“You are. I was a prosecutor for a number of years before joining the FBI. I think it’s something you don’t ever really lose.”

“For better or worse,” you say with a smile of your own. Happy with your assessment, you move a little closer again. “One more thing. I don’t think you’re the kind of man who would normally let a woman take you into her bedroom after less than an hour of knowing her. Childhood or otherwise.” You smooth your hands down either side of his tie, over his firm chest and solid midsection. “Maybe you saw something in me you liked?”

“I was... dreading coming here tonight.” He brings his hands up to cover yours, but doesn’t pull them away, just holds them. “If you’ve been to one of these parties, you’ve been to them all—no offense to your father—and I was contemplating a good excuse to leave early, if I’m being honest. Then you showed up at my side—my friend’s mysterious daughter that I’ve heard so much about—and you’re funny, and charming. Insightful. Vulnerable.” He squeezes your hands, presses them closer to his chest. “Beautiful. It’s been a long time since I’ve looked at someone and felt an instant connection. Do you feel it?” His voice is just above a whisper, and you nod lightly.

You aren’t the type of woman to take a man into her bedroom after less than an hour of knowing him, childhood or otherwise, but he makes you want so badly you’re almost ravenous—you’ve felt this way before, maybe twice in your life, but neither of those experiences ended with you getting what you wanted. You really hope this time might be different.

“Kiss me?” He takes a breath and then presses his lips together.

“I shouldn’t.”

“I know. But will you?” After a beat, he does, leaning in and pressing his lips to yours, moving his hands to your face as he deepens it.

It’s not a hard kiss, but rough around the edges, your noses pressed together, mouths seeking contact even as you pull apart for breath. He kisses like he needs it, tastes like bourbon, feels like heaven; it’s steamy, wet, makes your chest heave and your pussy throb. When he walks you backward, gently presses your body against your desk, you hop up onto it easily and pull him closer, between your spread knees.

“Aaron,” you sigh over his lips, and his hands move to your thighs, pushing up your dress so he can get closer to you. You glide your fingers through his hair, plant a hand on the desk, then feel something tip over, hear the soft sound of paper sliding over the edge.

Aaron looks down, picks up a lavender envelope; he holds it up with a question in his eye and an enamored look on his face.

“‘From the desk of…’ You had personalized stationery at eighteen?” His mouth is a little red from the kiss still, and he’s teasing you, perfect; you smile, can’t believe this is happening.

“I liked to write to my congressman… and Ruth Bader Ginsburg,” you pant. He chuckles, kisses you a little softer than before, then moves down your throat, sweeps his tongue over your pulse. “Mmm. Right there.”

He pauses to look up at you, hair mussed from your fingers, and you push his jacket off his shoulders; he shifts to full height, helps you take it off, and you drape it over your desk chair, work the knot of his tie loose.

“Are you sure you want this?” he asks as your fingers slip down the front of his shirt, freeing his buttons. You unclasp his belt, open his pants, and stretch up for a kiss, touching his face; you nod when you pull back.

“Absolutely. Are you?” He nods too, all serious eyebrows you want to kiss, mouth you want back on yours, on your throat, anywhere.

“Absolutely.” You step down off the desk, run your hands over his arms, then kick off your shoes and walk over to the door, close and lock it; when you pass him again, you guide him to the bed and sit in his lap, clutch at his shoulders and kiss him with as much desperation as he showed you before. There’s a lot of heavy breathing, sighing, moans from you both, and if just kissing is this good, you can’t imagine what he’ll be like inside of you.

When you can find it in yourself to stop kissing him, you pull back and climb out of his lap, present the back of your dress so he can ease down the zipper. He pushes it off, large, warm hands gliding over your body until it hits the floor in a heap unbecoming of the designer label. Your mother would lose her mind.

“You are incredibly beautiful,” Aaron says as he moves his hands to your hips, sliding your panties down and leaning in to press his lips to your stomach. You sigh, press a hand to the back of his head while his mouth explores you where you’re soft and sensitive. You’d like it lower, but there may not be time for that tonight. “What do you want with an old man like me?”

“None of that.” You sweep your hands over his shoulders, sink down onto his lap again, and his hands fall to your bare hips, squeezing you softly; you close your eyes for a moment, so overwhelmed by just the simplest touch. “Like you said: I feel a connection.” Your fingers move to push his shirt open, to lift his undershirt so you can get your hands on bare skin and soft body and hair. He groans, and you kiss him, deep and slow, hands moving to take off both shirts and add them to his jacket on your chair. You take a deep breath, reach out to touch his cheek. “Connect with me.”

He takes your hand, brings your palm to his mouth and kisses it, then drags it down so your fingers slide over his lips; you swallow hard, can feel wetness pooling between your legs, so you slide off of him and onto the bed—however sexy it may be to leave your mark on him, you do both have to return to the party at some point.

Sitting up beside him, you touch his body, ease his pants and boxers down; he takes them off along with his shoes, and you pull the comforter out from under you, push it to the side, let yourself lay back and bask in the look and feel of him as he settles between your knees, leans in for a kiss.

It’s even more intense than before, somehow, his thighs against yours, strong arms supporting him, and you drag your nails lightly up his body, tip your head back and sigh when his lips trail from the base of your throat to your jaw.

He moves a hand low, rubs his fingers between your lips and presses one finger inside you, slowly glides it in and out so you’re moaning, sighing his name.

“That feels so good,” you breathe, and he moves his mouth to yours again, soft and wet, the slide of his tongue sinfully delicious. He adds a second finger, earns more gasping moans, then a third; with the help of a capable thumb stroking over your clit, you come, and he kisses the praise right out of your mouth and then pushes inside you.

His mouth doesn’t leave yours, keeps you close as he thrusts inside, gradually lowering his weight onto you until you feel him everywhere: chest soft against yours, stomachs pressing together as you both work your hips, as your hands grasp his back to keep him close, heavy. Connected.

“You’re perfect. You feel incredible, baby,” he speaks against your lips in a rare moment apart, and you hitch your knees up higher, press the heels of your feet against his ass.

You thought he looked turned on before, but now he looks like he’s being consumed by it, like he wants to thrust deeper into you, make a home in your body and never leave; you would be more than okay with that, to spend the next two weeks beneath him, holding him close, sharing breath and sweat and pleasure so complete it changes you profoundly.

He moves a hand behind your head, cradles it, and sucks wet kisses against your throat—nothing so deep as to leave a mark, but that doesn’t mean you’re not panting, whimpering, begging for more.

“Aaron. Hmm, oh. You’re so gorgeous, I—everything about you.” He pulls away from your neck, peers down at you, and you’re sure you’re a sight to behold in your desperation; your palms smooth down his back, to his sides, and you hug him close, squeeze him hard when he comes, panting your name against your throat and pumping roughly inside.

You meet his every thrust, dig your nails into his hips, and he leans forward, covers your mouth with his and grinds against you until your second blissful orgasm shudders through your limbs. You clench tight around him, moan, then slowly sag back against the mattress, more thoroughly satisfied than you’ve ever been in your life.

He shifts, half on top of you and half off, his kisses gradually slowing, his hands sweeping over your shoulders, your face, your arms. When you’re calm, content, you sigh, kiss his hands and cheeks and lips; you’re warm, and you curl around him, overheated skin on skin, and never want to leave.

“Mmm,” he rumbles against your shoulder, mouthing at it, and you sigh, scrape your nails through his hair.

“Mm hmm. Think I can die happy now,” you murmur, and he shifts up to look at you, a smile curving softly from the corner of his mouth.

“Don’t die on me, now.” You smile too, scoot closer for slow kisses. You’re both happy to lay there, quietly kissing, but eventually it’s clear you need to return to the party in order to avoid suspicion—not that you think anyone would ever guess what just occurred.

You dress side by side, turning to have him fix your zipper, reaching up to help him with his tie. When you’re both technically decent enough to head downstairs, you plan to give him a head start, but the two of you get caught up in one more deeply sensual kiss that almost makes you want to just say screw it and take his clothes off again. He can tell, has the barest hint of a smirk on his face when the kiss breaks, and he punctuates it with a soft press of lips before walking out the door.

With your spare few minutes, you look around the room—and at your rumpled, frilly, lavender bed, on which you just had super hot sex with one of your dad’s friends, it’s still kind of sinking in—and wonder what the rest of your vacation could possibly bring that could top this night. At breakfast the next morning, you find out.

You and your parents are discussing the party, who got too drunk to function, who left with the wrong wife, which of your dad’s friend’s sons you got along with most, and then he drops the bomb on you.

“And see, honey, I told you talking to Aaron would be beneficial.” You choke on a bite of scrambled eggs, try to wash it down with a sip of juice; your mom pats you on the back until the moment passes.

“What?” you ask, voice barely a squeak. You clear your throat and try again. “What about Aaron, dad?” He flips the newspaper he’s holding to the next page and peers over it at you.

“I told you talking to Aaron would be beneficial. Before he left last night, he told me all about the internship—it’s nice of him to set it up for the two weeks you’re here, so you can get some experience under your belt.” You briefly think about your experience under Aaron’s belt, but it’s really not the time.

He really set you up with an internship—one he knows you aren’t interested in—based on the offhand comment you’d made about squeezing it into your two week vacation. You’d be kind of irritated at him for making the plans on your behalf, but if it means the next two weeks are anything like last night, he’s going to make it well worth your while.

The internship excites both of your parents, and your mom declares it a girls day, takes you out for some new clothes, since you didn’t bring any workwear, for a manicure and pedicure and then drinks. She talks about what a great opportunity this will be for you, and you don’t have the heart—or maybe you just don’t care anymore—to argue about what great opportunities you’ve already made possible for yourself.

Sunday is for relaxing, and not internally panicking about seeing Aaron again. Friday night was incredible, but you didn’t think it would turn into anything, considering he is your dad’s friend, and you’re only here for a couple weeks.

You have to hand it to him, though: if he enjoyed himself as much as you did, and this internship is his way of getting to spend more time with you, he has managed to do what you haven’t been able for twenty-nine years—find a way to please your parents while finally pleasing yourself. Monday morning, you show up at the BAU office to receive a photo ID badge and fill out some paperwork. You don’t actually get to meet anyone from the BAU until after lunch, and when you do, Aaron is nowhere to be seen.

“Hi, I’m looking for Unit Chief Hotchner?” you say to a fair-skinned woman with long blonde hair and a kind smile. “I’m interning for the next couple weeks.” There is a man with her, Black, tall, bald, with very expressive eyebrows; the eyebrows don’t look like they think very highly of you.

“You’re an intern? A little old, aren’t you?” After a beat, his face breaks into a smile, and you roll your eyes, huff a laugh.

“Charmer. Yes, I’m definitely too old to be an intern; do you have overbearing parents by chance?” He raises his hands, palms up, and takes a step back.

“No, but enough said.” The blonde woman laughs, and he nods in your direction. “I’m Derek Morgan, this is JJ Jareau. Come with me, I’ll take you to Hotch.”

You thank him, follow as he leads you across the room and up some stairs.

“So what’s he like, Agent Hotchner?” you ask, wanting someone else’s opinion of Aaron as a boss, a coworker—anything other than the one night stand that wasn’t. You really know so little about him.

“He’s a good guy; smart, fair, great at what he does. A little tightly wound; could stand to live a little.” He looks back at you with a grin. “He’ll probably remind you a little of your dad.”

God. It almost makes you throw up in your mouth a little.

“You know, I doubt it, but thanks for the warning.” He knocks on a closed door at the end of the hall, and a moment later, Aaron answers it. His expression doesn’t change as Derek introduces you, and when he walks away with a friendly pat on your shoulder, Aaron gestures you in. He closes the door behind you and looks carefully over your face.

“Hi,” he says, and you see that hint of a smirk on his face again. You take a moment to appraise the room—there’s a window with blinds that are closed, a desk and chairs, bookcases, a printer, more windows on the far side, a loveseat. You look back at Aaron with a raised brow.

“Hi. What am I doing here?” His expression gets serious, like he can’t tell if you’re pleased or upset with him for the surprise. You sit down on the loveseat, set your bag down, and he sits down next to you.

“I know you wanted to get your father off your back, and you did say if I could squeeze an internship into two weeks that you’d be interested.” You smile a little, because you did say that. “I thought it might be nice to see you a little more, too. You’re under no obligation to stay,” he assures you, briefly looking down, and then he takes your hand. “But surely there are worse ways to spend your vacation?”

You give him an uncertain look, like you’re really trying to decide what you’d like to do, and then you push up your skirt and swiftly straddle his thighs, press your hands against his shoulders. His mouth falls open a little, and you lean in to catch it with yours.

“I have been thinking about you all weekend,” he mutters into the kiss, wraps his arms around your back. “Have you thought about me?”

“Only every night.” He groans at your words, lets his head fall back a little, and you press your lips to the column of his throat, nip softly with your teeth. “Every morning. Every minute.” You bite at the shell of his ear, kiss it, card your fingers through his hair. “Do I have an actual job to do here?” You pull back, and he raises his eyebrows; you can’t help the grin that takes over your expression. “Because if not, I’m going to focus on making this the best two weeks of your life.”

He pulls you in for another kiss, a little rougher than before, deeper, and you tug on his hair, pant against his cheek when you separate.

“In that case, no. You don’t have a job to do here.” You tilt your head, and he smiles a little. “I'm the boss, I make the rules.” That kind of thing has never done it for you before, but you have to admit it’s making you feel some type of way right now. You sweep your hands inside his jacket, squeeze his sides.

“Mmm, yes you do. Hey, do you think there’s enough room for me to fit under your desk?” He wets his lips, and you climb off of him, walk around to check it out for yourself, bending over his desk in your tight black skirt to peek beneath it. You look up to see Aaron is not shy about taking in the view, and you grin. “Spacious.”

He walks toward you, and when he’s closer, his eyes look dark with need; his hands look like they ache to reach out and touch. You step forward, let yourself be caged in against the desk by his arms, and you arch your back a little, open his belt slowly.

“I didn’t set this up so you would feel obligated to do this.” You sigh, lean up to catch his lips in a soft kiss.

“I know you didn’t. But if I want to?” You tug down his zipper, slip your hand inside his underwear, feel him hot and stiff in your palm. “And you want to?” He nods tightly and you kiss him again, squeeze him softly, sweep your tongue between his lips. “Then let’s.”

You take a step back, push his chair far enough out of the way that you can crawl under the desk, come up on your knees; he exhales deeply, then sinks down into his chair, stretches his long legs so they rest on either side of your body, holds his pants open for you. You look up at him, hope he sees how ridiculously eager you are to do this, and you take his dick out, stroke it a couple times, and cover it with your mouth.

“My god,” he sighs, head resting back against his seat. You hold him with both hands, suck deep and wet, moan a little when he spreads his legs further apart. “Your mouth feels so good, baby. Does this make you wet?” You pull off, move one hand to slide up his stomach, clutch his shirt there.

“Very, but I’m patient. Want to make you come.” He wets his lips, sighs, and you dip your head, lick up the length of him before sucking him back down.

He is all perfect, desperate noises, soft grunts and moans, gently palming your head as he gets closer, and you’re pretty sure he’s about to get off when there’s a knock at the door. He mutters a curse, and you squeeze his stomach, determined to make him come in the next five seconds. He looks like he’s going to lose his mind.

“Just a minute,” he manages, his voice strained, and he puts his hands on your arms, but you stroke and suck him quickly, actually sigh in relief when he spills in your mouth; your only regret is that he couldn’t be louder.

As soon as he’s through coming, you duck under the desk to wipe your mouth, and he hurries to fix his fly, to close his belt. There’s another knock, and he exhales, calls for whoever is on the other side to come in.

He accidentally bangs his knee off the desk, winces, and you lean back against it, panting, your heart racing.

“Aaron!”

Your eyes snap closed. What are the actual chances of this? You don’t know enough about karma to have an opinion on it, but you come to the sudden realization that you must have done something wrong in a past life.

“Hey, what are you doing in our neck of the woods?” Aaron asks, managing to sound like he is in fact not talking to the father of the woman who just swallowed his come.

“Looking for my little girl, of course. Had to see what she was getting up to on her first day at the FBI.”

“She’s actually… downstairs. In the mailroom. Interns start at the bottom and work their way up.” You stifle a laugh, because despite your compromising position, that’s kind of funny.

“Oh, okay. Agent Morgan thought she was up here, but I guess she must have snuck by him. Would you tell her I stopped by?”

“Absolutely. She’ll be happy to hear it,” he says, and you think you might be out of the woods, but you hear your dad’s voice again.

“Hey I almost forgot to mention: Monday Night Football tonight, got a bunch of guys coming over to watch the game. You interested?”

“You know, that would be great. You can text me the details. Thanks for the invitation.”

“Sure, of course. I really appreciate you taking care of my girl.” You have to bite your lip this time, and Aaron taps his foot against your hip.

“It’s my pleasure. She’s really wonderful. You should be proud.”

“I am. I’ll text you the details,” he says, and then the door closes and Aaron pulls back, looks down at you beneath the desk. You kind of just stare at each other for a minute.

“Close call?” you say with a shrug, and he helps you to your feet, then lifts you up and sets your ass on the edge of his desk. He grabs your face for a messy kiss, and you cling to him, breathless when he pulls back.

“What does it say about me that I’m turned on again?” he asks, and you shake your head, pull him close for another kiss.

“I don’t know, but I’m really turned on, too. Can you—” That’s as far as you get before he strides over to the door, flips the lock, and comes back to push your skirt up, tug your panties down to your knees so quickly it makes you gasp. He gets on his knees slowly, looks up at your face, and puts his hands on your hips, takes a few deep, thorough licks of your pussy. “Oh, my god.” You put your hand on the back of his head, drop your ass harder against the desk and press your other palm against it for support.

He is as enthusiastic as you were for him, slipping his tongue between your lips, gliding rhythmically over your opening but not pressing in, the tease. It feels insanely good, so much but not quite enough.

“Aaron. Oh, mmm—please. Please.” You sigh, dig your fingers into his hair, and he puts his hands under your ass and tilts you back on the desk, dives lower to start thrusting inside you with his tongue. “Yes, yeah, right there,” you murmur, and you rock your hips a little; your hand slips, sending you further back on the desk so that you’re almost laying back on it, and it makes you feel so deliciously dirty that you groan, grab at the collar of his jacket at the back of his neck.

“You okay?” he asks, pulling back to look up at you, and you nod, frantic; he licks his lips, lifts your legs and puts them over his shoulders, then dips down to stroke his tongue inside you, to press a finger inside alongside it.

“Holy—oh, yes.” You toss your head back, whine, and come around his finger while his tongue flicks in and out until you’re left breathless, spent.

You press yourself up to sitting, and Aaron stands, kisses you deeply, hands on your face while you’re still slick on his tongue. After a couple of minutes, he helps you get cleaned and straightened up, his kisses soft presses of lips this time.

“I should try to get some work done,” he says, but he doesn’t sound like he wants to; after that, you can’t really blame him.

“That’s okay; I brought my laptop, so I can work on some stuff too, if you don’t mind.” He doesn’t of course, and you get set up at the other end of his desk. You’re both plugging away at your work when you’re reminded of something from earlier; you close the lid of your computer and look over at Aaron, head tilted. “I didn’t take you for someone who likes football.” He smiles, taps his pen against his chin.

“I don’t. But I figured you’ll be there.” You smile back.

“Yeah, I’ll be there. Maybe I’ll see if my old cheerleading uniform still fits—you know, just to go with the theme.” You open your computer back up, but the look on Aaron’s face out of the corner of your eye is very, very promising. “Mmh, that feels good,” you murmur, one hand on Aaron’s shoulder and the other on his thigh; he is propped up against your pillows, massaging your bare breast and your clit while you roll your hips in his lap. Your cheerleading skirt fits, mostly, but you couldn’t zip it all the way; still, it’s the only thing you’re wearing, and you can’t deny the whole situation is so hot it hurts.

“You feel so incredible. Taking me so well.” He can’t kiss you in this position, and you can tell he wants to—you really want him to—so you feel a little like a tease as you work your ass and thighs atop him. “You know you’re beautiful, but I can’t stop saying it. You’re perfect, baby—in this little skirt?” He moves the hand from your breast to your hip under the skirt, squeezes you there. “So sexy. Do you remember any cheers for me?”

You groan, roll your eyes.

“Not worth the orgasm to embarrass myself,” you say, and he lifts his hips, slams up into you hard. “Mmh. Okay, almost worth the orgasm, but not going to do it.” He lifts an eyebrow, pumps his hips up again.

“Really? Not even if I…” He lunges forward, lifting you out of his lap and making you laugh, then maneuvers you onto your stomach, gets on his knees behind you, flips up the skirt.

“God, Aaron,” you sigh, and he presses his thighs right up against your ass, slides inside, pumps slow and steady while squeezing your cheeks, pulling you back toward him. Your fingers dig into the stupid, frilly bedspread, which will probably turn you on for the rest of your life, now, and you move back against his thrusts, moan.

“Worth it now?” he asks, filling you so completely, and you pant, hum.

“Wouldn’t you rather I just moan your name?” He leans forward at that, hands planted up under your arms, and leans in to speak into your ear; the way he’s pressed against you, the angle is perfect, and you’re right on the edge when his lips brush your throat.

“Yeah, why don’t you do that instead.” It takes about two seconds for you to come, and you aren’t shy about it, let his name fall from your lips in an endless string of praise. He hammers against your ass, the roughest he’s been—and god, does it feel good—then comes inside you murmuring your name.

He pulls out, rolls you over, and you finally kiss, make it count; it’s like the first night, how you can’t get enough of each other, messy, desperate, curling tongues and soft, eager lips, but you know you can’t keep it up forever, because his presence downstairs will be missed much sooner than Friday’s party.

You help him get dressed—in jeans and a blue polo, maybe the only time in your life a polo has made you wet—and then throw on a t-shirt and jeans of your own, head downstairs. You detour for the kitchen to grab a couple beers while he heads into the living room, and then you plop down next to him on the couch and hand him one like you weren’t just defiling your childhood bedroom yet again.

“There you are,” your dad says when he registers your presence—it’s impossible to get him to look away from the tv when a good game is on. “So how was your first day at the office? Think you’re going to like it there?”

“Yeah, I don’t know why I was resistant for so long.” You shift, put your leg under your butt, and take a sip of your beer. “It’s not going to be a career for me, but I have a really good feeling about the next two weeks.”

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#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x female reader #hotch x female reader #hotch x reader #ask answered #anon #prompt

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kyuuppi · 4 years

Text

“You lie to your best friend/crush that you have an OnlyFans just to see their reaction”

Ft. Sugawara; Nishinoya; Tsukishima; Oikawa; Kenma

Pt. 2

A/N: My bias is so obvious here LOL

KARASUNO

↳ Sugawara

➣ You are over at his house, the two of you idly watching a sitcom while browsing your phones and chatting in between; it’s comfortable, as times with Sugawara usually are.

➣ Every time Suga leans in to show you a funny meme on his phone or throws his head back in laughter at a joke from the show, you find your heart skipping a beat.

➣ He is beautiful, basically an angel in your eyes, but he is also your best friend and you don’t think he has any interest in you like that. Not in the way you do.

➣ That’s how you get the idea to test his feelings.

➣ Being the troublemaker you are (how else would you and Suga get along so well?) you decide to shake things up by casually mentioning you’re interested in starting an OnlyFans and asking if he thinks its a good idea.

➣ You expect either of two reactions: either he’ll be as supportive as usual, possibly advising you to be cautious with strangers online like the mother hen he is, proving he only sees you as a friend—or he’ll tell you not to, possible evidence that likes you.

➣ The response you receive is not quite what you were expecting...

➣ Once the words leave your lips his head immediately whips around in your direction, light brown eyes looking at you with a serious expression on his face, something you’d never really seen before. It makes you uncomfortable and you begin to regret all of your life decisions.

➣ Suddenly though, he is leaning into you, his arms coming up to trap you against the couch as you try to back away. Your eyes are as wide as saucers and face completely flushed as he continues to stare you down before speaking.

➣ “Even though I’m your best friend, I’m still a man, you know. You’re being awfully cruel right now.”

➣ You audibly gulp, suddenly feeling light-headed but he keeps speaking, close enough that you can feel his hot breath fan across your cheeks.

➣ “Asking me to watch the person I like show off in front of thousands of other men? Even I have my limits.”

➣ And that marks the day of you and Sugawara’s first kiss. ♡

↳ Nishinoya

➣ Your best friend, Nishinoya Yuu, is notoriously unabashed with his affections.

➣ The two of you have an interesting relationship—Noya has no qualms with expressing how pretty he thinks you are, borderline flirting with you at times, and you frequently return the favor.

➣ But you don’t take any of it seriously, of course, regardless of how much you secretly wish it were real. Everyone at Karasuno knows about Noya’s undying dedication to the volleyball club manager, Shimizu Kiyoko, and he confesses his love to her at least twice a day.

➣ Unbeknownst to you those professions became less and less frequent after he met you and now most of Karasuno thinks the two of you are basically dating

➣ The two of you are at the mall, a frequent hang out place where Noya can look at volleyball gear and you can browse manga at the bookstore, when you get the idea to prank your friend.

➣ “Hey, Noya? I’ve been thinking about finding a way to make more money but I don’t have time for a part-time job so I decided to make an OnlyFans—I already have a few subscribers.”

➣ Nishinoya nearly trips and falls flat on his face. You would have laughed if it weren’t for how he immediately grabs at your shoulders, staring at you with a mix of anger and fear.

➣ “Absolutely not! No one should be allowed to see your beautiful body like that but me!”

➣ You immediately fluster at his loud declaration, acutely aware of how other customers in the mall are giving the two of your strange looks as they walk by.

➣ “B-but Noya, we aren’t even dating—”

➣ “Then let’s start dating!”

➣ And what are you gonna do? Say no?

↳ Tsukishima

➣ Being friends with Tsukishima could be frustrating at times—a sentiment you and Yamaguchi frequently discuss when the blond isn’t around.

➣ Tsukishima likes to think most things are beneath him and he’s too cool to find enjoyment in activities most other friends enjoy, ranging from mini golf to video games. The man seems content to waste his life away studying and listening to music if it weren’t for you and Yamaguchi forcing him out of his room.

➣ Naturally, something like a prank war would be something Tsukishima would want no part of—not that that has ever stopped you.

➣ Usually, your pranks are failures. Either Tsukishima easily figures out what you’re doing before it can happen or he doesn’t give you the satisfaction of a reaction, chastising you for wasting your time pulling pranks when you have a failing grade in mathematics you’ll later beg him to help you study for.

➣ He still helps you though, he’s whipped

➣ Your newest prank however, you feel exceptionally confident in. Not only is it simple to pull off, only relying on your acting kills, but it also might answer your curiosity on whether you have a chance in getting your dearest Tsukki to see you as more than just a friend.

➣ The day you decide to do it the three of you are hanging out in Tsukishima’s bedroom as usual, you working on the math homework Tsukishima forced you to study while he reads a book and Yamaguchi sits in the corner reading a book.

➣ You had already discussed your plans with Yama beforehand, to which his expression looked suspiciously devious, like he knew something you didn’t know, as he proclaimed his support.

➣ You hear Tsukishima turning a page and decide to speak up.

➣ “Hey, Tsukki, have you heard of OnlyFans?”

➣ You hold back a snicker as you see Tsukishima visibly tense, his eyes widening behind his glasses for a moment before he relaxes. From the corner of your eyes you can see Yamaguchi smirking behind his comic, watching the blond closely.

➣ “...yeah, I’ve heard of it,” Tsukishima simply replies.

➣ “I’ve been thinking about making more money but I don’t have time for a part-time job so my friend suggested it. She said I could make over ten thousand yen a month.”

➣ “I think only the really attractive ones make that much.”

➣ You gasp, thoroughly offended, and Yamaguchi looks mildly annoyed by his friend’s response, already opening his mouth to chastise him for being so mean—but before he can say anything, Tsukishima is speaking again, still looking down at the book in his lap.

➣ “Don’t do it though.”

➣ “Why not?” You pout, refusing to look up at him when you speak.

➣ “...I don’t want the person I like to do those types of things.”

➣ You nearly choke on your own saliva, head darting up to stare at him in disbelief. Yamaguchi, for some reason, only smiles softly, looking unsurprised by the admission.

➣ “W-what? You...like me?”

➣ “Oi, shouldn’t you be studying? One more F and you’re gonna flunk out of the class, dummy.”

➣ You’re slightly disappointed by the change of subject but when you notice the soft pink on Tsukishima’s cheeks you can’t help but to smile the whole time you finish your homework.

AOBA JOUSAI

↳ Oikawa

➣ Oikawa is a busy guy.

➣ You were well aware of that before the two of you happened to be paired up for an assignment and got to know each other, eventually becoming close friends.

➣ Between volleyball practices, tournaments, magazine interviews, and appeasing a passionate fan club, Oikawa rarely has time for himself, let alone another person.

➣ Despite all of that, you could tell he always made sure to spend time with you, dedicating a few weekends a month to hanging out, just the two of you, and constantly texting you in the times the two of you couldn’t physically be together.

➣ From an outsider’s perspective, it was almost like the two of you were dating.

➣ But alas, you know the sad reality is that Oikawa is most certainly not your boyfriend and you have no idea if he has any interest in your like that…

➣ ...Which is why you decide to try to make him jealous one day to push him towards confessing his feelings, if they exist.

➣ The two of you are at a café, sipping lattes and gossiping about other students when you bring it up.

➣ “Y’know...I’ve been thinking of making an OnlyFans.”

➣ To your surprise, Oikawa’s eyes seem to light up, his lips curving into a smile of excitement.

➣ “Wow, really? Maybe I should make one too!”

➣ Oikawa immediately pulls out his cell phone and the color drains from your face as you realize your plan has completely backfired.

➣ “My fans are going to love this—hey do you think we can do a collab? The two of us in one pic would make us top creators for sure.”

➣ You can only nod numbly with a fake smile at Oikawa’s enthusiasm.

➣ Oh god, you’ve created a monster…

NEKOMA

↳ Kozume

➣ Unless you’re Kuroo, becoming friends with Kenma is a nearly impossible feat. Actually making him want to spend time with you alone, even more so.

➣ But somehow, you managed to work your way into Kenma’s tightly knit social circle more like a two point line segment of him and Kuroo and your evenings after his volleyball practice are usually spent in one of your bedrooms, playing Splatoon and Animal Crossing until your Switches die or your parents force you to come home for dinner—whichever comes first.

➣ You love spending time with Kenma, his quiet presence somehow making you feel comfortable—but over time those feelings of ease have shifted into something more akin to nervousness and excitement as you’ve come to develop a crush on the setter.

➣ Every moment with him, watching the small smiles tug at his lips when he wins a match or his cute, frustrated pout when he can’t figure out how to defeat a boss makes your heart flutter and it’s becoming more and more painful to idly sit by without expressing your feelings.

➣ A direct confession, especially to a boy with nearly 0 social skills, is scary, so you want to be sure your feelings are returned before you even attempt to share them.

➣ Thus, you’ve decided to take Kuroo’s advice.

➣ “Push him into a corner. Kenma will only act when he thinks he has to.”

➣ You take a deep breath to steel your nerves before you speak, eying him sneakily from behind your Switch.

➣ “Gamer girls and boys are kind of trendy these days; I’m thinking about starting an OnlyFans to make money to buy more games.”

➣ The only visible response you receive is a slow blink as Kenma continues to play his game, fingers tapping furiously on the keys.

➣ “Ah...I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

➣ “Why not?”

➣ There are a few moments of silence between you two, the room only filled with the SFX of your games as Kenma seems to finish his round. You recognize the victory music as Kenma pauses to finally raise his gaze to meet your own.

➣ “It's your body so I can’t tell you what to do but...I would feel really jealous of all your subscribers.”

➣ And just like that, Kenma returns his attention to the video game, unpausing and starting a new match, blissfully unaware of you struggling to calm your racing heart and flushed cheeks.

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