#I hadn't quite realised there was so much to say!

[thatacotargirl]

Shadows and Surprises (3)

Part 3 of Azriel x Reader fanfic! Enjoyyyy!

Summary: Azriel meets y/n at Rita's and spends a single night of passion with you before heading your separate ways. Only, the Mother had different ideas.

Warnings: vague mentions of family difficulties.

Tag list - @mirandasidefics @lilah-asteria @nyxbranwenn @nickishadow139 @dee-writes-smut @impossibelle @mybestfriendmademe

Y/N POV

You groaned as you dragged yourself from the bed, the knocking at your door more insistent now. You pulled the door open and gaped, seeing Azriel standing there behind it.

"Hi" he said, his voice uncharacteristically quiet and nervous.

"Hi" you replied, holding the door a little wider open, a silent offering for him to come into your apartment. He accepted, his wings tucked in tightly to avoid knocking into you or the doorframe as he walked into your living room. The room was a mess - you never had the time or energy to clean it these days. When you weren't working at the bookstore, you were sleeping away your nausea and indigestion. You knew growing a baby would be exhausting, but this surpassed all of your expectations.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" you joked, leaning against the sofa edge to support yourself. You hadn't expected Azriel to show up at your apartment. In fact, you hadn't expected to see him again. It wasn't that you thought he was a bad male and would deliberately want to shirk his responsibilities - but he was responsible for the safety of an entire Court, and a baby likely wasn't in his plans.

"We need to talk", was all he replied. You stared at him silently, encouraging him to go on.

"I don't know what I am doing. It's not that I never wanted children, I do, I just didn't expect to have any at this time in my life. But I want to be there. I want to be involved. I know what it feels like to have a broken family and feel like a burden, like you're unloveable, and I don't want my child to ever question if I love them". He had tears in his eyes, and you realised there was probably a lot of unspoken, unshared pain behind them that you might never know. But it was enough. You had your own pain that you hadn't shared with him, and you couldn't expect disclosure from him if you weren't willing to return the gesture. Not yet.

You reached out to touch his arm in comfort and, much to your surprise, Azriel caught your arm before you could reach him and pulled you into his chest. You nuzzled in and he rested his head on top of yours, a deep sigh sounding in the otherwise silent room.

"We will need to plan logistics", he said into your hair, ever the pragmatist.

"Yes Mr Spymaster, we can plan logistics", you chuckle back.

"I'm serious", he says, pulling away to look at you. He scans your body from head to toe, and you realise he is surveying you. Taking an inventory. "I can see how tired you are, are you not sleeping? You know it's not good for the baby if you're not resting, right?".

You laugh, your heart warm at the fact that Azriel was suddenly so concerned for yours and the baby's welfare.

"Az, it's hard to sleep when you single-handedly run a business and a home", you gesture around yourself at the piles of dirty dishes, laundry, the thick layer of dust on the broken fireplace. Azriel's eyes followed yours, and you suddenly felt ashamed. Your apartment was far from perfect. Your landlord was quite the absentee, so your broken fire place had gone unfixed for several winters now. As had the poorly insulated windows, the kitchen sink tap which sometimes decided to spray you down when you turned it on, and the mould forming around the edges of the bathroom floor. Whilst your bookstore was successful, life in Velaris was still expensive, and you couldn't really afford much better.

"Then you move in with me", he said. You simply gaped.

"In your own room, of course", he added quickly. "You will have your own room and your own space".

"Az, I couldn't ask you to do that" you replied, pulling out of his embrace.

"You're not asking. I am insisting. I don't fancy showing up here one day and finding you rabid from a rat bite", you notice him glance over to a hole in the skirting board of your kitchen.

"It's not a rat, it's a mouse, her name is Daisy and she would never bite me", you retort. Admittedly, you didn't like sharing your living space with Daisy, even if you were somewhat confident that she wouldn't bite you. Somewhat.

Azriel only chuckled. "I insist", I will ask Rhys and Cassian to come and help move your belongings over to the House of Wind".

Rhys, Cassian, House of Wind. You were moving into the centre of the Night Court. Azriel felt your shiver.

"Don't worry, only Cassian and I live there. He will dote over you more than I will - he will carry you everywhere if you ask".

Cassian. Lord of Bloodshed. Commander of the Night Court armies.

Azriel could see the uncertainty in your face and pulled you back to his chest. "Relax, they are just normal people, I promise they will love you. Mor will be so happy to finally have another female in her presence she probably won't leave you alone."

"Mor?" you asked.

"Rhys' cousin and third in command" he replied. You could sense from his tense stance that there was some history there, but decided now wasn't the time to broach it.

"Ok", you sighed, "when do we make this happen?".

Azriel smiled. "Now".

Azriel's POV

After reaching out to Rhys, Azriel took y/n's hand and let her lead him to her bedroom to start packing. It was only about 10 minutes later that another knock sounded at the door, and Azriel opened it to see Rhysand and Cassian beaming behind. They both walked into the apartment.

"A new chapter, brother" Cassian said, pulling Azriel into a hug. Rhysand smiled as he watched them, giving Azriel a hearty pat on the shoulder. They both turned to the door of y/n's bedroom as they watched her appear, shyly holding a box of her belongings. Cassian was the first to approach her, giving her a huge smile and taking the box from her hands. Azriel noticed that Cassian's smile only grew wider when he looked down to y/n's stomach and saw the small swelling.

"Welcome to the family, y/n" he said, putting the box on the floor and offering his arms out to her. She stepped forward slowly into them, but seemed to warm into his embrace. He could almost feel her relief. Rhysand stepped forward, careful not to appear intimidating. Whilst Rhys had the kindest soul Azriel had known, his power was palpable, and capable of intimidating just about anyone. He saw y/n peer past Cassian at Rhys, who simply offered his hand to her. She accepted as Rhys brought her hand to his mouth and kissed the top of her fist.

"It is an honour to meet you, y/n", he said. Y/n blushed so deeply he had to withhold a laugh. Y/n mumbled something quite incoherent in response, which earned her a chuckle from Rhys.

"Let's get moving, shall we?", Cassian called out, holding onto the first of y/n's boxes and flying off towards the House of Wind.

-

It took a few hours, but eventually all of y/n's belongings had been moved into her new bedroom. Azriel watched as y/n took in the room. He had picked a room a few doors down from his, to give y/n her privacy, but to be close enough in case she needed anything. Cassian's room was a few doors the other way, so she was sandwiched between the pair of them. Azriel hoped that that way, if anything happened, one of them would be there to help.

"You are welcome to change the room however you wish", Rhys said, appearing in the doorframe. "Paint it, change the furniture, whatever you want - this is your room and you can do with it as you like".

"Thank you", y/n replied, breathless in wonder. The bedroom was almost the size of her entire apartment had been, and Az could see that she was starting to feel overwhelmed. He silently gestured for his brother to leave them and walked to y/n's side.

"Are you ok?", he asked.

"Yes", y/n replied, "just a bit shocked at how this day has turned out. It's certainly not what I expected. Who knew how much could change over an indigestion tonic". She laughed, but it sounded more hollow than normal.

"I'm sorry", Azriel said, his hand rubbing circles on y/n's back.

"What for?".

"I don't know. I just felt like a sorry was warranted right now".

"You're daft".

Azriel shook his head, hiding a smile that had crept onto his face. No wonder he had been enamoured with you that night. You were one of the few people who wasn't intimidated by him. Who spoke your mind to him. He appreciated it more than he would tell you.

"Mor and Amren are joining us for a family dinner tonight, but you don't need to come if you are feeling tired or not up for it. They will all understand and we can have your food brought up here".

Y/n looked up at him and gave him a small, watery smile.

"I think I would like that", she replied. Azriel couldn't hid his smile in response.

"Great, dinner is at 7, I'll leave you to have a rest now and come and get you to take you down to the dining room just before". With that, he departed, closing the bedroom door behind him.

Y/N's POV

I think I would like that.

WHAT.

You didn’t know what had come over you. Of course you wanted to meet Azriel’s family, eventually. But most females are wined and dined before being introduced to a male’s family. Then again, most females are wined and dined before having a male’s baby, so if anything, you were at least consistent.

Your new home was nothing short of show-stoppingly beautiful. Your bedroom, which was fit for a queen, followed a pearlescent theme, with light marble furniture. The walls, which were a shade of muted light gold, rivalled any room you had lived in before. Rhys’ offer to re-design the room was kind, but you’d be crazy to want to change a single thing. The bed, clearly designed for Illyrian wings, would fit 5 of you with space, and had the softest duvet you could imagine. It felt like stroking a cloud. You felt a momentary panic that you had, in fact, fallen asleep when you had intended to nap - and dreamt this entire encounter. You pinched yourself hard and yelped. No, this was very real. You hopped into the bed, and sleep took you immediately.

-

A soft knock at your door had you leaning up on your shoulders. You took a moment to remember your surroundings.

“Come in”, you called.

Azriel walked into the room and you had to force your jaw not to drop open. Clad in his Illyrian leathers, he looked devastating.

“It’s almost time for dinner, are you sure you’d like to join?”, he asked, taking in your bed hair.

“Yes, yes, sorry just a minute!”, you jumped from the bed and ran in front of the vanity mirror, smoothing down the knots that had formed from your tossing and turning. Azriel chuckled and walked over to you, reaching out to untangle a knot that had formed by the back of your neck. You froze as his hands brushed against you, gently pulling the hair free. When you looked presentable, you turned to face him and took a deep breath.

“You ready?”, he asked.

“Ready”.

#a court of frost and starlight #a court of mist and fury #a court of silver flames #a court of thorns and roses #a court of wings and ruin #acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #acotar x y/n #azriel x reader

[dragon-kazansky]

Bridgerton shade of blue

Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader

Benedict bumps into you, quite literally, at a ball while trying to escape his mother's attempts to find him a partner. You decide to humour him with a dance, not realising just how entwined you would become with him. It seems the universe will find every excuse to push you and Benedict together, no matter how much you fight it.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Season one

Chapter Thirteen - Passionate

♡♡♡

A garden party was a nice occasion. The joys of being outdoors while socialising with dear friends had a calming and charming air about it. You found it rather pleasant being in the outdoors.

The flowers smelled wonderful, and you couldn't help making mental notes of some of the flower arrangements for, perhaps, future uses.

As you stroll, you come across the Bridgertons. You smile at Violet as you get closer, though she is talking to Eloise, who sounds less than pleased with the topic of conversation. You decide to narrowly miss this conversation for now and walk past them to where Benedict and Anthony were talking to a couple of young ladies.

Both men seem to perk up at your appearance beside them.

"Hello," you smile at the pair.

"Good afternoon," Anthony smiles back.

"Enjoying the fresh air?" Benedict asks, also smiling. Smiles all around, how joyous.

"Yes, very. This is lovely."

Anthony waves over a servant with a tray of lemonade and hands you a glass. You take it with a soft thank you, missing the look Benedict gives his brother. Anthony elects to ignore Benedict as he smiles at you again. You sip the lemonade.

The sound of someone clinking their glass to signal attention has everyone turning around to look at Colin Bridgerton.

"Can I have your attention?" He asks, looking around at everyone.

"What's he doing?" You ask quietly to the brothers beside you.

"No idea," Anthony mutters.

"I would like to make a small but important announcement," Colin declares. He is standing next to Marina Thompson. "I have happy news to impart. I have asked Miss Marina Thompson to be my wife and she has accepted."

You nearly choke on your lemonade. Benedict and Anthony look at each other. Anthony, in particular, looks less than pleased by this.

People clap around them. You clap for appearance sake, but you look up at Anthony. "Did you know?"

"No."

Anthony steps forward to talk to his mother. You can't hear what they're saying. You look up at Benedict. "I wasn't even aware your brother was courting."

"Neither was I." He says with a little shrug.

Everyone moves to go congratulate the couple. As you pass Anthony, you look up at him. He offers you his arm and you both approach Colin and Marina.

You could feel him seething behind his calm exterior.

After the party, Anthony takes Colin into his study to talk to him. You have no idea what they discuss, but you can take a pretty good guess.

♡♡♡

The next morning, you went to the Bridgerton house to see Violet. After Colin's unexpected announcement, you wanted to know all was well with the rest of the family. They were already without a sister now. They did not need to lose Colin so soon, surely.

Lady Bridgerton was most pleased to see you at her door. She told you they hadn't even started breakfast yet and invited you in. Benedict was there with the two youngest siblings. You smile at him as you enter. He smiles back softly, seemingly pleased to see you.

"Take a seat," Violet says kindly.

You sit next to Gregory, opposite Hyacinth, who sits beside Benedict. The eldest son at the table hasn't torn his gaze from you at all.

"Tea, ma'am?" The butler asks.

"Yes, please."

A cup is poured for you.

"Are you hungry?" Violet asks.

"No. I ate at home. Thank you, though." You smile at her. She returns the smile and picks up the paper in front of her. "How are you all?" You ask.

"Uh, well," Benedict nods. You smile at him.

"Violet?" You looked at her.

"Hm?" She looks up from her paper. "Oh, uh, yes." She nods, and then lowers her gaze back to the paper.

Benedict gives you a look that you understand clearly enough. His mother has been better.

"I suppose it's too soon to hear from Daphne yet?" You ask.

"I'm sure they'll have made it by now. They'll be enjoying their honeymoon period, no doubt." Benedict chuckles softly.

You smile softly and look into your teacup. "I wonder what it's like..."

"The honeymoon period?" Benedict asks, looking up at you with slightly flushed cheeks.

"Being married," you correct him.

"Oh..."

Violet looks up at you with a small smile, her eyes sparkling. "When you marry your best friend, it's the most wonderful feeling of all."

You smile at her. "I want that."

"Youshall have it. One day, dear."

You are grateful for Violet and her kindness. You've never known a more warm and welcoming woman. Your mother was nice, certainly, but she was eager just to see you wed. Violet made marriage sound magical.

You sip your tea and listen to Hyacinth bicker with Gregory over a ribbon. Benedict tries to be the middleman and solve this peacefully. You chuckle at their antics. Gregory tries to get you to defend him, but you put your hands up and explain that you weren't here when the crime was supposedly committed. Benedict also comes to your rescue.

You smile at each other.

Colin walks in.

Conversation becomes quieter. You pour yourself another cup of tea and avoid looking up at Colin. You feel like this may be a little awkward. You grab a slice of toast for the centre of the table and butter it quietly, needing to keep your hands busy.

Benedict seems to realise what you're doing and says nothing to you.

"Good morning." Colin greets his family.

"Morning, brother."

Colin nods to you, too. You offer him a smile which you then hide behind the toast you had buttered.

"Colin, your engagement is in Whistledown!" Hyacinth exclaims cheerfully.

"Hyacinth!" Eloise scolds. You hadn't even seen her lingering in the back of the room.

"What? It is!"

"Very well. Everyone out, I think." Benedict says as gently as he can.

"Yes," Violet mutters.

Benedict calls your name softly. You nod and down the rest of your tea, taking the other half of the toast with you as you rise with the others. Eloise grabs her plate and glides past you quietly.

Colin approaches his mother as you all leave the room. When the door shuts behind you, yo turn to Benedict. "Will he be alright?"

"I'll let you know after."

You follow him down the hall.

The two younger siblings follow their sister into the drawing room. Benedict reaches out his hand to grab lightly at your arm, stopping you from going any further.

"Could I... show you something?" He asks.

You look at him, brow slightly furrowed, and nod. He smiles, that crooked little smile of his and guides you down the opposite hall, leading you toward an empty room. There was minimal furniture in there, which confused as to why he brought you here.

"I like to come in here for some quiet." He explains.

He offers you a seat on one of the chairs in the middle of the room and disappears for a brief moment. You look around the room as you wait. When he returns, he's carrying something.

"I don't usually show other people my work, for, I admit, I am not happy with it, but I would like to share a piece of me with you." He says, placing the book on the table between you.

For a moment, he sits there with his hands planted firmly on top of the book and then pushes it closer to you. You reach out and take the book carefully. His hand slowly slides from the cover, and you watch him become riddled with anxiety and nerves as his passion lays slowly in your hands.

You turn your eyes to the book and gently curl your fingers around the cover, pulling it open slowly, hoping not to disturb the pages. You start from the beginning. Mere scribbles of a person. You turn the pages slowly. Different angles. Different body parts up close. Eyes, noses, hands, lips. Nearly 6 whope pages are focused on hair styles on ladies. There are pages focusing on the folds of clothes and how they hand. Particularly dresses.

You browse the sketchbook slowly and carefully, taking I never details.

There is some evidence of torn pages within the book. You wonder how many times he sketched something and torn it out with anger with displeasure.

"Well?" He asks after a long pause of silence.

You lift your eyes to meet his. "You drew all of these?"

"Yes..."

You cast your eyes on the book again, admiring a sketch of a hand up close. The long fingers, the bend in the knuckles, the lines on the palm.

"You're very talented, Benedict."

You hear the breath leave his lips and look up to see the way his eyes light up with surprise. He clearly was expecting a very different comment.

"You think so?"

"Yes." You nod. "Very."

Benedict seems to relax immensely as he looks at you and then sits back in his chair, looking relieved.

"I want to create something people will remember and talk about for years to come," he confesses. "But I cannot. I do not possess such a talent."

"Nonsense."

"No, really." He leans forward again.

"Can I ask why you decided to show me this?" You ask, looking at the open book again.

"I trust you." He speaks softly. "Are we not friends?" He asks.

"Of course."

Hs lips twitch into a smile. "I trust you," he repeats.

"Well, I'm very glad you do." You close the book and hand it back carefully. "I trust that you will create something spectacular one day."

You had no idea how much your words meant to him or for how long he would end up carrying those words with him. If you could see the artist he wants to be inside, then surely one day it shall come true. Benedict swears on his heart that anything you day could become true just because they are spoken from your lips.

He hadn't even noticed his eyes had glanced at your lips, not until his eyes met your eyes again. You don't seem to have noticed.

"I think I've taken up enough of your family's time now. I mostly wanted to check on Violet after Colin's rather abrupt proposal."

"Yes..." Benedict wasn't entirely certain what you had just said, he just agreed. His mind was reeling.

Had he really just stared at your lips without realising he was doing it. Why does he feel the urge to look at them again?

You stand before he can get the chance.

"See me out?"

He snaps back to reality and stands quickly. "Yes."

You chuckle and begin to leave the room. Benedict follows you, pretending nothing is amiss. He was confused by his own behaviour.

You assumed it was a Bridgerton trait, if nothing else.

Benedict shows you to the door, and you step outside. Your carriage awaits. You turn and smile at Benedict.

"Do not give up."

"Hm?" He looks at you confused.

"Your art. Do not give up. One day, your work will hang with the greats."

Your words set his heart fluttering. He takes a deep breath and nods, not tristing his voice. You chuckle again and bid him farewell as you walk away.

Benedict closes the door and turns slowly, looking at the empty hall of the house.

"I need a drink."

"It's barely 9," Eloise says from the open door of the drawing room.

Benedict nearly jumped out of his skin.

♡♡♡

@callmemana - @lilscast - @imgondeletedis - @benedictbridgertonss - @clownsdiehard - @wxnterwidow333

@sillynilly27 - @autumn-slaves - @ben-has-arrived - @ajdelilah - @aadu2173

@booknerdlife - @tamlinrose - @sarahskywalker-amidala - @cheryyluv - @louschan - @lou-la-lou - @cultish-corner

@hopshusushi - @katherinejess - @nannabug - @afunkyfreshblog - @f0x33 - @dd122004dd -

@jupitervenusearthmars - @orchiidflwer - @bespinnn - @captainlunaxmen - @winchestersimpalababy - @acupnoodle

@ms-fandomgirl - @fablesrose - @anyaisinyourcloset - @meowzerzstuff - @orchiidflwer - @bespinnn - @crazymar15

@cosmixstar - @bree3parchen - @berrnuu - @biancamde - @charmainemaclendon - @pinkpantheris - @krismdavis

#Bridgerton shade of blue #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #female reader #dragon writes

[hephaestuscrew]

"Minkowski's been talking about Sondheim again…": Minkowski's love of musical theatre and what it reveals about her characterisation and her relationships

TL;DR: Renée Minkowski's love of musicals, while it might seem just like a mundane character detail, is used to give depth to her character because it contrasts with expectations of her from both the listening audience and the other characters. Her willingness or unwillingness to share this interest in different circumstances reveals her relationships with other characters at various points. Since this is a long one, if you'd rather read it as a document, you can view it here: Google Doc version.

"She actually really cares about these talent shows": Episode 8 (Box 953)

In the early episodes of Season 1, Minkowski is presented (largely through Eiffel's unreliable perspective) purely as a strict no-nonsense authority figure without much emotional depth, the kind of person who only likes things that are useful, purposeful, or mandated by Command. In contrast, musical theatre is a creative pursuit that has nothing to do with the mission of the Hephaestus and is viewed by many people as fairly frivolous or silly. The gradual exploration of Minkowski's passion for musicals is one of the many ways that the show expands and challenges our understanding of her as a character. 

The first indication that we get of her interest in musicals is through her entry into the infamous talent show, something that is required as part of the mission. Minkowski really cares about 'crew morale' activities in general, even when they actually have a negative effect on morale and even before she's friends with any of her crew (for example, the Christmas and Thanksgiving dinners in the earlier stage of the mission), perhaps partly because doing things in the "right way" is important to her. 

But Eiffel senses that the talent shows aren't just about rules for her: "it’s bad enough when she makes us do something just because it’s military protocol, but I think that she actually really cares about these talent shows". This might be the first indication that we get of Minkowski caring deeply about anything that isn't inherently part of her role as a Commander. Moments like this are part of the gradual process of giving us insight into her character beyond the Commander archetype that she tries to embody. And yet, she only indulges her theatrical passion because something mandatory gives her permission, or an excuse, to let another part of herself out.

Of course, to satisfy the needs of a talent show, she'd only need to provide a performance of a few minutes. But Eiffel mentions "the second act of the play" - which along with Hera's comment that "Isabel isn't the biggest role in the play" - implies that Minkowski was intending to put on the whole of Pirates of Penzance as her talent show act, rather than a few of the songs or some kind of medley. (I suppose that Eiffel could be exaggerating or Minkowski might have been planning to do extracts from different parts of the play, but I prefer the interpretation in which Minkowski gets to be more ridiculous.) 

Even though no one else would be willing to be in her production of Pirates of Penzance, Minkowski casts Hera as Isabel, a role with two lines and no solo singing. I found some audition notes for this play which said "The traditional staging gives [Isabel] more prominence than the solo opportunities of the part suggest, so she must be a good actress" which does make me sad in relation to Hera's inability to have a more significant role by being physically present on stage. 

It’s sweet that Hera still wants to take part though. She tells Eiffel "Pirates of Penzance is a classic of 19th century comic opera", so either she’s absorbed what Minkowski has told her about the show, or she’s done her own research and formed her own opinions. I enjoy the fact that Hera is the one Hephaestus crew member who shows potential to share Minkowski's musical theatre appreciation; I like to think that this is something they could explore together post-canon.

Anyway, I'm obsessed with the idea that Minkowski was planning to play every character except one in Pirates of Penzance, a show which is designed to have 10 principal characters and a chorus of 14 men. It seems that her contribution to the talent show was supposed to be an entire two-hour two-act musical, with costumes and props, in which she would play almost all of the parts. This is very funny to me as the perhaps predictable consequence of giving an ambitious and frustrated grown-up theatre kid a position of authority and asking them to arrange a talent show. Minkowski knows that the audience will be made up of her subordinates who are theoretically obliged by the chain of command to watch and listen, so she absolutely tries to make the most of that opportunity. There's probably also a degree to which she limits other people's involvement in her musical because - as with her other endeavors - she wants the outcome to be almost entirely within her control (something that is usually pretty much impossible in as collaborative a medium as musical theatre).

Of course, Minkowski's behaviour in most of the talent show episode is affected by her being drugged by Hilbert. This creates an exaggerated situation which is the first real opportunity for Minkowski to be something other than the strict sensible authoritarian Commander and the foil to Eiffel's jokey laid-back attitude. I don't agree with ideas that being intoxicated brings out anyone's true self (especially in the absence of consent for the intoxication), but it seems pretty clear that being under the influence of whatever was in Hilbert's concoction caused Minkowski to fully commit to a level of manic enthusiasm for her musical production that might have otherwise been obscured by her professionalism. It's a particular kind of person who belts showtunes when drunk, and Minkowski is that kind of person, even if that's not how she wants to present herself. (As a sidenote, I seem to remember that they took Emma Sherr-Ziarko's script off her to help her sound more drunk. It's an excellent performance.)

Minkowski wants interval ice cream. She wants "pirate costumes" (and she'll threaten to shoot a man to get them). She wants "swashes and buckles". She wants whatever props she can get her hands on (including a real cannon). This show is important to her, even though only three other people will witness it and two of them actively don't want to be there. It’s important to her for its own sake.

Eiffel says Minkowski wants "a second pair of eyes to tell her if the prop sabre for her Major-General costume was a bit much…"  While I certainly wouldn't put it past Goddard Futuristics to have a prop sabre on the station for no apparent reason, it feels more likely that she might have made it or adapted some existing item. Which suggests that maybe she was that passionate about the props even before Hilbert drugged her. 

Even so, it does feel significant that Minkowski's love of musicals is only revealed in the episode in which she is drugged, exhibiting lowered inhibitions, exaggerated behaviour, and an "impaired euphoric effect". Her love of musical theatre is initially revealed through a professional structure that provides permission, and then further emphasised by a forced intoxication that exaggerates some impulses that perhaps she already had.

"Some hobbies other than making trains run on time": Episode 17 (Bach to the Future)

After Eiffel tells to find Minkowski to find something else to do while her work duties have quietened down, they have the following exchange:

EIFFEL: You must have some hobbies other than making trains run on time. Something to do with friends? Boyfriends? MINKOWSKI: Of course I do, but, well, there aren't really a lot of opportunities for rock climbing or trail hiking in the immediate vicinity. 

Even though this quote doesn't mention musicals, I've included it here for two reasons. Firstly, it's very funny to me that, even after the talent show debacle, Eiffel acts like he's never had any evidence of Minkowski's hobbies. She tried to perform a whole play almost single-handedly and it didn't occur to him that this might indicate an interest of hers outside of work. I think this reflects the fairly two-dimensional view that Eiffel has previously had of Minkowski, which her interest in musical theatre didn't fit into. 

Secondly, it feels notable that Minkowski doesn't mention musical theatre here. She wants to show that she has non-work interests, but without undermining her own authoritative image. Her interest in rock climbing and trail hiking - while it may be genuine - fits with how she wants to be seen as a Commander. These are hobbies which portray her as physically capable, with a high degree of stamina and a willingness to adapt to perhaps less hospitable surroundings. Of course, Minkowski does have these traits and they serve her well on the Hephaestus. But there's not really anything particularly surprising about her expressing these interests. The surprise in this scene comes from the reveal that she has a husband, a character detail which - like her love of musicals - isn't something we'd necessarily expect from the archetype-based view of her we are initially presented with. 

Her interest in rock climbing and trail hiking never come up again, because these details don't really deepen her characterisation (or at least, they aren't really used to deepen her characterisation beyond proving that she isn't entirely all-work-and-no-play). In contrast, Minkowski's love of musicals is brought up over and over because it shows another side of her that she struggles to reveal on the Hephaestus, and that allows more interesting things to be done with her characterisation.

"You wanted to write showtunes": Episode 35 (Need to Know)

Alongside the more high stakes discoveries prompted by the leak from Kepler's files, we also learn that Minkowski applied to - and was rejected from - the Tisch Graduate Musical Theater Writing Program.

Up until this point, we've only had evidence that Minkowski enjoys performing in musicals. But here we learn that Minkowski doesn't just love watching or performing in musicals - she wanted to write them too. This suggests a creative side to her that we never see her fully express.

The course

The Tisch Graduate Musical Theatre Writing Program claims to be the only course of its kind in the world and it accepts just 30 students each year. The current application process requires applicants to: upload play scripts or recordings of songs they've written; answer a large number of extended response questions about their creative process and views on musical theatre; write a 'statement of purpose' which has to talk about why they are applying and include 3 original ideas for musicals; provide a professional resume and a digital portfolio; complete an exercise of writing in response to a prompt; and undergo an interview. The process might have changed somewhat since Minkowski would have been applying (which, if it was soon after she finished college, might have been around the early 2000s) or it might be different in Wolf 359's alternate universe, but I think we can safely assume that applying to this course was a serious undertaking that required an intense amount of commitment and work. 

Applying to a course like that isn't something you do half-heartedly or on a whim. You couldn't apply to this course if you hadn't done a fair amount of musical theatre writing already. (The course requires applicants to choose to apply as bookwriters, lyricists, or composers, but I'm not going to make a guess here as to which of these Minkowski went for.) The fact that Minkowski wanted to study this course suggests that she was seriously considering trying to make a career out of musical theatre writing. In Once In A Lifetime, she tells Cutter that commanding a space station has always been her dream job, but we've got evidence here that it wasn't her only dream job. There's something kind of funny and kind of sad about the idea that writing musicals was her back-up / fall-back career path. She does not like to make life easy for herself.

The revelation 

This information is revealed against Minkowski's will. It's not something she wanted people to find out, and she isn't happy about them knowing:

JACOBI: "Dear Renée, thank you for your interest in the Tisch Graduate Musical Theater Writing Program..." MINKOWSKI: Oh, come on!  JACOBI: (pressing on) "We are sorry to say, we will not be able to offer you a spot in this year's blah blah blah." Oh this is too good. You wanted to write showtunes?  MINKOWSKI: Number one? Shut up. Number two, why are my personal records on there?! [...] How is it in any way relevant?! JACOBI: Oh, I think it's very relevant. I mean, if you're sending someone to pilot ships in deep space, you want to make sure that they can, you know... paint with all the colors of the wind.  Jacobi CRACKS UP - and, although to a lesser degree, so does Lovelace. Minkowski looks at her: really?  LOVELACE: Sorry, Minkowski. It's... it's a little funny.  MINKOWKSI: No, it isn't!

Minkowski seems defensive and embarrassed here. She obviously doesn't trust everyone there with this revelation (Jacobi, Maxwell, Lovelace, and Hera are all present). She considers this information to be "personal" and irrelevant and not even "a little funny". She's used to reactions like Jacobi's (and to a lesser extent Lovelace's); in Ep41 Memoria, she says "most people think it's hilarious that I like musicals" (see below for more thoughts about this quote). But the fact that these mocking reactions are expected doesn't mean that they don't bother her. She wants so badly to be taken seriously and, in this scene, her interest in musical theatre seems to be incompatible with that. Jacobi reacts the way that he does because of the idea that I've already expressed, that a passion for musical theatre does not fit with the serious authoritative image that Minkowski has often presented. It's not the typical hobby of a soldier, especially not a Commander.

To me, the way Lovelace laughs suggests that she might not have previously known about Minkowski's love of musicals, or at least perhaps not the full extent of it. At any rate, it's definitely news to Jacobi. And Minkowski clearly hasn't talked about it enough for it not to feel like a big reveal for her.

The rejection 

It's notable that this reveal is not just that she wanted to write for the stage, but also that she failed to get into a course that might have helped her work towards that goal. This of course compounds Minkowski's discomfort at having this information revealed. Not only did she want to write showtunes, but she encountered rejection in her attempts to do so. This detail implies that perhaps it wasn't just the appeal of her spacefaring dream that stopped her going down a theatrical career path. 

I'm about to move more into headcanon territory rather than just straightforward analysis, but I personally believe that, while Minkowski auditioned for a lot of musicals (particularly as a child / young person), she was never cast as the main role. She seems embarrassed about her interest in musical theatre in a way that (at least judging by people I've encountered) people who were always the lead in their school / college productions don't tend to be. 

We don't have much evidence about her actual level of singing/acting ability, given that she is inebriated during the only time we hear her sing in the podcast. However, it resonates with other aspects of her characterisation to imagine that Minkowski was generally good enough to get an ensemble part but never quite good enough to be cast as a main part. I think she might see only ever being cast as part of the ensemble, and failing to get into the Tisch Musical Theatre Writing programme, as slightly more down-to-earth examples of the same pattern as her repeated rejections from NASA. She is desperate to prove herself. She is "someone who very much wants to matter. To do something important." When she casts herself as almost every part in Pirates of Penzance, she is finally taking the opportunity to be a main character, an opportunity which I imagine had been denied to her over and over in both a literal and metaphorical sense.

"It's just from a play I saw once": Episode 41 (Memoria)

The next scene I want to talk about is from a memory of Hera's, which took place on Day 57 of the Hephaestus mission and in which Minkowski appears to be talking about the Stephen Sondheim musical Sunday in the Park with George:

MINKOWSKI: Oh, it's just from a play I saw once. It doesn't matter. (BEAT) The guy who sings it is this famous French painter. And his entire life is kinda falling apart. But he can always turn what's happening around him into these beautiful paintings.  HERA: And? MINKOWSKI: And... That's, I don't know. Reassuring, maybe? (BEAT) I don't know why I'm going on about this. You don't care.  HERA: I think it's interesting.  MINKOWSKI: Yeah? Most people think it's hilarious that I like musicals.  HERA: I don't see what's funny about it.  MINKOWSKI: Well, thank you Hera, but you're not exactly... you know.  HERA: I'm not... what? 

There's a couple of different things I want to pick out from this exchange. Firstly, the line "Most people think it's hilarious that I like musicals" makes me sad. I don't think she's talking about people on the Hephaestus there. Judging by the quote I talked about from Bach to the Future, Eiffel definitely wouldn't have registered Minkowski's love of musicals at this stage, and I doubt Hilbert cares at all about the hobbies of his fellow crew members. So Minkowski is talking about experiences that she's had on Earth, of people mocking her interest in musicals and thinking it doesn't fit with who she is. You can hear the impact of those experiences in Minkowski's reluctance to elaborate, in the way she says that something she obviously cares about doesn't matter, in her assumption that Hera doesn't care.

Secondly, this scene is a complicated one for Minkowski and Hera's relationship. On the one hand, Minkowski freely talks to Hera about something she's passionate about, and Hera listens and expresses interest. Hera validates Minkowski's interest in musical theatre without making a thing of it being weird and Minkowski thanks her. Again, it’s shown as an interest they could could potentially share.

But on the other hand, it seems like part of the reason Minkowski feels able to open up to Hera is because at this point Minkowski doesn't see opening up to Hera as fully equivalent to opening up to a fellow human. She doesn't just accept Hera not making fun of her interest; instead it seems Minkowski is about to imply that this lack of judgment indicates Hera's difference from humans (although she does have the decency not to say it outright). Minkowski's expectation of judgment from others contributes to her saying something very hurtful to Hera here. (This kind of potential consequence of negative self-attitude is explored a lot with Eiffel, so it's interesting that Minkowski can sometimes have a similar issue.)

Minkowski and Hera's conversation is interrupted when:

The DOOR OPENS.  EIFFEL: Hey, Minkowski, we've - What are you guys talking about?  MINKOWSKI: We were just discussing how I'm going to take away your hot water privileges if you don't reset the long-range scan.

Eiffel can obviously tell that he's walked in on a conversation that is about something other than work, or he wouldn't have asked. But Minkowski actively chooses not to tell him that she was talking to Hera about musicals. Perhaps she doesn't know how to open up to a human subordinate about it. Perhaps she doesn't trust him not to make fun of her. Perhaps she just doesn't have any impulse to talk about her interests with him. Either way, if Minkowski's love of musicals is something which reflects a side of her personality outside of her Commander role, this is a moment where she chooses not to take an opportunity to share that side of herself with Eiffel. This reflects the emotional distance between them three months into the mission, which forms a nice contrast with the next couple of quotes I'm going to talk about.

"Composition. Balance. Harmony.": Episode 54 (The Watchtower)

When Eiffel comes directly face to face with alien life, he discovers that music is the human invention that fascinates the Dear Listeners:

EIFFEL: You haven't figured out music?  BOB: ORDER. DESIGN. TENSION. COMPOSITION. BALANCE. HARMONY.  EIFFEL: (low, to himself) Minkowski's been talking about Sondheim again…

I only learned in the course of writing this post that in this moment the Dear Listeners are almost exactly quoting a repeated phrase used throughout Sunday in the Park with George. The titular protagonist lists various combinations of these qualities in multiple songs in reference to his art. In the closing song, the lyrics are "Order. Design. Tension. Composition. Balance. Light. [...] Harmony." It's not only Eiffel's references that the Dear Listeners are incorporating into their speech - they've picked this one up from Minkowski. This also suggests that some element of her appreciation for musicals and the way she talks about them has fed into the Dear Listeners' understanding of the human phenomenon of music. The Dear Listeners aren't just parroting - they understood the quote enough that they left out the word "light", arguably the only quality in that phrase which isn't a big part of music as well as visual art. Eiffel likes music too, but I don't think that this is how he'd talk about his favourite songs.

This is a refrain about finding order and beauty out of the chaos and uncertainty of life, which was also the aspect of Sunday in the Park with George that Minkowski focused on when talking about it in Memoria. It suggests that art/music could be something governed by rules and principles, which is potentially something that appeals both to Minkowski and to the Dear Listeners.

Eiffel's response to this reference is one of those little hints that reminds us that Eiffel and Minkowski have spent a lot of time together and that not all of that time has involved them being at each others' throats or actively in a life-or-death situation. Some of it has just been Minkowski going on about a musical she loves and Eiffel (willingly or not) paying enough attention that he recognises this phrase as a Sondheim quote that Minkowski has talked about. I suppose that this quote might have been in Eiffel's pop-culture-brain anyway, but judging from Eiffel's general tastes and the fact that I don't think Sunday in the Park with George is one of the more commonly known Sondheim musicals among non-musical fans, it seems more likely that this quote is something he only knows because Minkowski has talked about it. 

Eiffel sounds exasperated at the mention, like he's heard Minkowski talk about Sondheim far too much. But I'd argue that this still says something positive about their relationship, when we contrast it with a couple of other moments I've already mentioned. Firstly, when her previous musical theatre ambitions are revealed to Jacobi, Maxwell, and Lovelace in Need to Know, Minkowski seems embarrassed and defensive. Secondly, in the memory from Memoria, she avoids telling Eiffel that she was talking about this same musical. Yet, by the time The Watchtower takes place, Eiffel is sick of hearing Minkowski talk about Sondheim. She doesn't have the same barriers up in sharing her interests with him, even though he doesn't have the same interests. I think this is a demonstration of how comfortable she feels with him. It's a hint at the kind of easy downtime that they've sometimes shared.

"One day more": Episode 61 (Brave New World)

Eiffel recognises another musical reference of Minkowski’s in the finale. As the crew are preparing for their final confrontation with Cutter and co., Minkowski quotes Les Misérables, mostly to herself - but Eiffel recognises the lyrics and joins in:

EIFFEL: Hey - chin up, soldier. We're almost through. Just one more day, and then we're done.  MINKOWSKI: Yeah, one more day. (more to herself) The time is now, the place is here - one day more.  EIFFEL: - one day more.  They both stop, dead in their tracks. MINKOWSKI: Did you just - ?  EIFFEL: Was that what I - ?  They look at each other: No way. And BURST INTO LAUGHTER.  EIFFEL: Man... this is really it, huh? The end of everything. 

It feels really important that Minkowski and Eiffel share this moment of togetherness before she tries to send him back to Earth and before the rest of the action goes down. I think there’s some nice symbolism about them finding a way to communicate that they both understand. Making references is Eiffel's thing, and musicals are Minkowski's thing, so this is a synthesis of their two approaches. Again, there's a contrast with Minkowski's previous unwillingness to share her musical theatre passions with Eiffel (at least without the mitigating circumstances of a mandatory talent show and some kind of intoxicating substance).

I talked about the significance of the fact that they reference this particular musical in this post from ages ago. I don't think it's too much of a spoiler for Les Misérables to say that the revolution that the song One Day More is building up to does not end well for the revolutionaries. When Eiffel says "Just one more day, and then we're done", it encompasses both the possibility that the crew will escape to travel back to Earth and the possibility that they will all die. Minkowski's reference to a famously tragic musical suggests that it's the latter possibility that's at the forefront of her mind (right before she tries to send Eiffel away from the danger). But Les Misérables is also a story about people standing together in solidarity against powerful oppressive forces, which gives particular resonance to the way that this reference brings Eiffel and Minkowski together in a moment of being completely on the same wavelength as they prepare to fight Cutter and Pryce's plan.

When they laugh here, it's not about the 'hilariousness' of Minkowski's interest in musicals, it's about their unexpected unison - Eiffel's recognition of Minkowski's reference and Minkowski's surprise at the fact he joined in. It's a laugh of togetherness, of shared understanding, of friendship. It's a moment of lightness in dark times. And that moment is provided by Minkowski's pop culture interests, not Eiffel's. In spite of all they've been through, she's not lost that part of herself, and in fact, she's more open about it, at least to Eiffel.

I'll finish by highlighting what Eiffel says when he's trying to get into character to impersonate Minkowski so he can turn the Sol around:

EIFFEL: Umm... yes, this is Lieutenant Commander Renée Minkowski. I'm... uh... well I sure love schedules, and, uh, musicals. And that man, who I married…

I just think this is a nice example of Eiffel not defining Minkowski solely by her professional Commander role. Sure, she likes schedules (probably in a personal as well a professional capacity to be fair), but she also loves musicals, and her husband. It is a fairly reductive overview of her as a person, but it feels reductive in a fond way, like these things are part of Minkowski's brand to Eiffel in a way that he might affectionately tease her about. (Credit to @commsroom for this thought.) His view of Minkowski has come a long way from "our resident Statsi agent" or even just "you must have some hobbies other than making trains run on time." He doesn't see any contradiction or inherent humour in Lieutenant Commander Renée Minkowski's appreciation of musicals.

Conclusion

Minkowski's love of musical theatre is used to deepen her characterisation and is one of the ways in which we gradually begin to see her complexity beyond the strict Commander archetype. The degree to which she is prepared to share this interest at various points is used to illustrate the nature of her relationships with other characters: a general unwillingness to show a less serious side of herself; a complicated potential shared interest with Hera; and the growing understanding between her and Eiffel.

If you read this whole thing, well done / thank you 😄 It wasn't meant to be this long - it just happened… Feel free to share your thoughts!

#It's Minkowski Essay Time again! #This is over 4700 words and still doesn't cover it all... #I hadn't quite realised there was so much to say! #Wolf 359 #w359 #If anyone is more familiar with 'Sunday in the Park with George' and has thoughts on why it might particularly appeal to Minkowski #I'd be interested to hear #I listened to the soundtrack and read the Wikipedia plot summary #but I don't think I really got it #My other significant bit of research was that #in order to see what applying to the Tisch Graduate Musical Theatre Writing Program involves #I had to create an account as if I was actually applying #which might be the oddest thing I've done for character analysis #If it interests anyone I could do a post with more detail about that application process #cos it looks insanely intense #Renée Minkowski #Renee Minkowski #the empty man posteth #I hope no one takes things I have said here as critical of musical theatre people btw #I'm just talking about general perceptions #In general I do enjoy musicals myself from an audience perspective

[luveline]

can I request eddie with golden retriever!reader, maybe where she gets upset because she overheard people calling her stupid and he sees her cry for the first time and it breaks his heart bc even though she’s upset, she’s trying to be happy? a big hurt/comfort moment?

thank you so much for your request! i love him so much i just wanna squeeze him <3 fem!reader, 1k

Eddie stands in the doorway, and you're lucky he's around. He looks pretty today in his softest manner, plaid shirt tied around his waist, a shirt with cut off sleeves showcasing the lengths of his arms and all their subtle muscle, inky dark tattoos climbing his skin in whorls. His hand moves forward toward you, pale fingers bright even in the dark room. 

"It's a party," he says, "what are you doing here all by yourself?" 

You wipe your running nose with your sleeve for lack of a tissue. Sniffling, you say, "I just didn't want to cry in front of everyone. I'll be right there." 

Eddie closes the door with an easy swiftness. He flicks on the lamp, and he looks at you like you've pulled the rug from under his sneakers. 

"It's fine," you say quickly. You add a laugh you're not quite feeling, not wanting him to worry about you. "Don't stress." 

"Why are you acting like this isn't a big deal?" he says immediately, no punches held. 

"It's not, everybody cries." 

Eddie sits on the end of the bed. The bedspread is a washed out grey, the room someone else's and unfamiliar. You hadn't wanted to have anyone come upon you messy crying in the bathroom, slipping into the master bedroom without a word. It's weird to be among other people's things. It has the feeling of isolation creeping in all over again.

Eddie puts his hand on your thigh. "What's wrong?" he asks, squeezing gently. 

"It's really not a big deal." 

"Humour me then. What's bad enough to make you cry?" 

You swipe under your eyes, his questioning prompting another wave of useless tears. They well big and drop fast down your cheeks like warm summer rain on your cool skin. "It's really stupid," you say with a wet laugh. You can't wipe your face fast enough.

"This is agony for me, you realise?" he says, in a tone that's not as teasing as his usual dramatics. "Seeing you upset? Tell me who said something mean and I'll kick their ass." 

"No, Eddie, you can't." 

"So someone did say something mean?" he asks. 

You trace the curve of a silver ring on his fingers as his hand rubs a slow back and forth over your jeans. The ache in your spine from slouching forward into your hands twinges as you begin to relax, your upset softened by his comforting touch. You don't answer him, only look at his hand, tear after tear curving along the slope of your cheek to meet under your chin. You bring your shoulder up and wipe your chin into your t-shirt. 

"Hey," Eddie murmurs, patting your leg, "you can tell me. I won't do anything you don't want me to do, but I gotta know what's making you cry." 

You loll your head to the side and give him a sad smile. "D'you ever get the feeling that… that everyone's just pretending to like you?" 

"No, but… that's because people don't bother pretending, with me," he says. 

You nod appreciatively. "Well…" 

"It doesn't matter, I can guess. I can guess how it would feel. You think people are just pretending to like you?" 

"I know so," you say. 

Eddie takes his hand from your thigh. You don't have time to mourn the loss —his arm comes up behind you, fingers curling gently at your hip. "C'mere," he whispers, closing the gap between your sides. 

"People saying shit about you?" he asks. 

"You know Gareth's friend? The shorter one? He was laughing with his girlfriend about how stupid I sounded when I was telling you about that octopus thing and I… I know I sounded stupid, it was basically a joke, you know?" You rest your head on his shoulder. "It's dumb." 

"That wasn't stupid, that was interesting."

"In what world?"

"Hey, I can deal with idiots talking down on you, that's what idiots do, but I won't hear it from you. Okay? Don't piss me off," he warns jokingly, giving your waist a small shake against him. "You're not stupid. Do you know how fucking smart, how unshakeable you have to be to see the good in the world? It's easy to give into cynicism, that's why I do it."

"Eddie," you laugh. 

"So you got excited about something a bit weird," he says, "so what? Why should they get to say that's stupid?" 

"Is it really weird?" you ask. 

"Super fucking weird, babe." 

He sounds pleased to have said it, his smile audible, his breath a warm fanning against your cheek. You know you're moments away from a chaste kiss pressed sneakily to the skin just shy of your ear. 

You're shameful. "Is that bad?" you ask. 

Eddie kisses you as you'd expected, right on the mark. "No," he says resolutely, grinning at you though you can hardly see him, he's so close. "No way. We're weirdos together."

You let him make you feel better with another hug, this one double-armed, the short stubble of his chin scratching your cheek. Hands full of his hair, you squeeze him tight enough to bruise, pleased when he groans and yanks out of your arms. 

"That how it is?" he asks. 

"Isn't it always?" 

Eddie takes your face into rough hands. You're under no illusion —delusion, even— that he might close the inches between you. This is a Munson style telling off, eyes locked to yours, forcing you to listen. 

"You scared the shit out of me, but don't think you have to come and sit in a dark room crying by yourself. That's not okay. That's a bit sick, actually." 

"Are you serious?" 

"As a heart attack." 

He rubs your cheeks childishly, pushing them up so they apple. Then, with much more tenderness, he wipes the tacky triangles of your eyelashes with the tip of his thumb. "No crying in empty rooms. You have to do it when I'm around, so I can make fun of you." 

"You're very charming," you say sweetly. 

Something funny stutters over his face, like a slice of sincerity through his bravado. "Only with you, sweetheart."  

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson scenario #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things 4

[miguelsslvt]

punk! miguel x innocent! reader

word count: 879

TW: nsfw, smoking, hair-pulling, corruption, swearing, creampie.

request: @sukioyakio ★

A/N: this isn't edited and is poorly made so i'm so sorry. also can i just say thank you so much for over 600 notes on my first drabble?? oh my gosh?? anyways, enjoy and welcome to the club! ^^

imagine punk! miguel being the 'bad rep' of the school. in the 3rd year of college, he took physics, chemistry and spanish language. he would smoke behind the science classrooms, refuse to wear clothes that he calls 'society norms' like a blazer or a button up, and instead wear a black leather jacket with pins like 'pink floyd', or 'anarchist' all around it. he would yell, slander and mock almost every teacher whenever he's in class (which is very rare).

most of the girls honestly adored him, apart from the odd popular girl or two finding him too 'annoying' or too 'muscly' for their liking. he didn't give two shits, he already knew his body count was probably higher then their grades.

but then there's you. sweet, innocent little y/n. where most college students spent their weekends partying, you spent it in your dorm room re-reading 'moby dick' for the 6th time. you took phsycology, english literature and spanish language. and if you were completely honest, the only reason you chose spanish language is because your boyfriend at the time (now ex) was spanish. god, did you regret picking it for him.

you noticed miguel, like every other person in the school would. but your first time was different. you were running late, extremely late for your first class of the day. damn you, alarm. that's when you noticed miguel, outside science block, groaning.

despite being late, you took a curious peek at what the man was groaning about.

'stupid fucking lighter..' he mumbled, trying to light his cigarette, but failing. you knew better then to interfere, to even speak to the most intimidating man in college. but, for some reason, you ended up giving him your lighter.

'thanks, you smoke? i can give you one for a trade.' miguel said, as you smiled so sweetly. you explained how you didn't smoke, or did anything like that, and that you only carried a lighter 'just in case of emergencies'.

that's when miguel's interest in you piqued. you were such a sweet, innocent girl, and that drove something in him. something that he didn't realise he wanted. he usually only went for girls with his taste and style, girls he'd meet at festivals or clubs and were either high as heck or sexy goths. but you, you were different.

soon enough, he realised you were only in his spanish language classes, and that you weren't the best at it. perfect. your weakness was miguel's strength.

that's how you ended up in this situation. bent over miguell's desk in his dorm, mumbling his name as hee proceeded to sbuse his way into your sweet cunt.

'you want to tutor me..? that would be so nice miguel!' you had said so excitedly, there was a spanish exam coming up and miguel so kindly offered to tutor you the friday night. and being so naive and quite desperate for the help, you happily accepted.

his room was filled with different posters and signs like his favourite bands, anarchistic posters, stickers saying things like 'fuck the government!'. his leather jacket was discarded somewhere on the messy floor, as his hands grasped your hips to push you even deeper onto his cock.

'm-miguel.. m-miguel please!' you whined, your mascara running down your face.

he just chuckled, as he pulled your hair lightly, moving you onto the bed as he laid you down on your back, as he started bullying into your pussy once again. he was so mean.

your light blue dress was somewhere on the floor, ripped to shreds. it was your favourite dress, but you had other things to think about at the moment.

'yeah.. you like that, cariño? you like being fucked like a slut? not used to being so used, are you?' miguel teased, as you just moaned in response. he hadn't realised that fucking a cute little angel could be this enticing. fuck, he could get used to this.

'i.. miguel! i-i've never-' 'shh.. i know, i know, a sweet girl like you hasn't ever been treated this way.. i'm sorry for being so rough, but i dunno.. the way you're tightening around me suggests you like the harshness..' he said, his hand wiping your mascara-smudged cheeks. your body was submitting to him in every way possible, and he felt like a starved predator being fed for the first time in years.

'i-is it normal to feel l-like this..?' you whimpered, eyes shut from the pleasure. 'yes.. yes my sweet girl it's very normal to feel like this.. let me give you all the pleasure you've missed out on.' miguel whispered in your ear, as he started thrusting faster and faster, pushing you over to the edge.

you let out a loud moan, your back arching as you came. the way you clenched onto him drove miguel over the edge too. his thrusts became erratic and sloppy, as he let out one more groan as he came deep inside you.

you were panting, your eyes still shut. he pulled out slowly, placing a sweet kiss on your temple. 'god you're so cute..' miguel whispered to you, as you just whimpered in response. he chuckled deeply.

god, he might just get addicted to such a good innocent little thing like you.

♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎

#atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara smut #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #miguel spiderverse #miguel spiderman #spider verse #spider man: across the spider verse #miguel smut #female reader #fem reader #smut #spider man 2099 #spiderman atsv

[babyleostuff]

BEING MC AT INKIGAYO WITH SEUNGKWAN AND FALLING FOR EACH OTHER

fluff 𐙚 headcanon + drabble 𐙚 idol!seungwan x gn!reader 𐙚 wc: 919

☁️ he’d immediately notice you on his first day, and from that moment on he wouldn’t be able took take his eyes from you ever 

☁️ you wouldn’t even have to do anything specific, you could be standing and talking to someone else or literally chill on the sofa with your phone in the makeup room - boo would be just so endeared by you that he wouldn’t want to miss even a second, especially since deep down he’d know that you being MC’s together would finally come to an end 

☁️ he’d be so so attentive to you, at some point you’d start noticing that you wouldn’t even have to ask, and seungkwan would immediately be there for you asking what you needed - even if it was something the staff could have done - boo would be the first in line to help you out

☁️ seungkwan, being the born entertainer that he is, would make you laugh 24/7, making the long hours on set so much more bearable and fun, to the point where at the end of the day you wouldn’t really want to go home (and hearing you laugh because of him and his jokes would make him feel so so fluffy and shy on the inside)

☁️ if you’d ever have a clothing malfunction, he’d instantly cover you with his body, looking away not to make you even more uncomfortable

☁️ you’d naturally get closer together quite quickly - your conversations wouldn’t be limited to work only, and you wouldn’t feel awkward when left alone in a room, on the contrary - you’d always feel like you could be yourselves when left alone, you wouldn’t have to act as you did for the cameras

☁️ for some it’d feel rushed or not thought over, but both of you knew that in your profession nothing lasts forever, and things could go as quickly as they came, so you tried to make every moment matter 

☁️ his members would soon realise that you were more than just a work partner for seungkwan, he looked at you with so much adoration, softness, and he genuinely felt honoured to be able to MC with you - it was all so evident whenever he looked at you

☁️ the first time seungkwan knew that you were definitely more than just a friend to him was when you had to take a break during recording due to overwork - all he wanted was to be with you and make sure you had everything you needed, he wanted to hold your hand and support you - he wanted to do something

☁️ your favourite moments were probably when your hands touched each other, and you held them next to each other for a moment too long for it to be just an accidental touch, but you had to pretend otherwise so that no one would guess anything

☁️ honestly, seungkwan felt like a teenager in love again - he blushed at your every glance, he was grinning like an idiot when he saw your smile, he loved sitting with you in the makeup room during breaks and talk about the stupidest things - he hadn't felt so happy for a long time

your last day as the MCs’. the last day seungkwan will be able to spend with you. 

should he ask for your phone number? invite you for coffee? should he talk to your manager and get permission to go out with you? god it was so stupid.

"kwan?" your voice broke him out of his thoughts, as he nervously paced back and forth in the hallway. he quickly took a deep breath, trying to put on the best smile he could. "yes?" 

"thank you," you said, adjusting the numerous bouquets you held in your arms. “i can't remember the last time i had so much fun at work, you're the best," you laughed, bumping your hip against his. "i envy your members that they have you around every day."

"if you only knew how much i would like to have you every day," he thought, feeling his heart sink.

seungkwan couldn't help himself when a strand of hair fell on your forehead, and before he knew what he was doing, he gently brushed it behind your ear. "i had a great time too," he said, for the first time in a long time feeling at a loss for words. 

he had to say something though - now was his only chance, and he knew that if he didn't do it, he would never forgive himself, he would regret it for the rest of his life.

"would you like to maybe-"

the moment he gathered his courage and started speaking, the director of the set came around the corner, looking at you with an irritated look. "everyone on set, now."

seungkwan felt like he was about to cry, tears stinging his eyes. well, now it was definitely over. 

"i don't want to sound like a creep, but i left my phone number in your bag," you said shyly. "you don't have to call if you don't want to, i’ll understand, but i need you to know that you’re more than just a friend from work for me. i’m so sorry if that made you uncomfortable in any way, i just needed you to know that," you babbled, as if he wasn’t in seventeenth heaven hearing that. 

before seungkwan’s brain could even register what was happening, your lips touched his cheek, placing a soft kiss on it.

"now come on."

taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @jeonghansshitester @soul-is-a-strange-kid @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @itza-meee @eightlightstar @immabecreepin @whatsgyud @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @vicehectic @dkswife @uniq-tastic @marisblogg @aaniag @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @isabellah29 @f4iryjjosh @bangantokchy @mrswonwooo @bangtancultsposts @lllucere @athanasiasakura @chillseo @onlyyjeonghan @haecien @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hannahhbahng @valgracia @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @mirxzii @hhusbuds @wonranghaeee @rosiesauriostuff @gyuguys @aaasia111 @tomodachiii

#seventeen #seventeen imagines #seventeen x you #seventeen kpop #seventeen x reader #seventeen reactions #svt reactions #seventeen fluff #svt fluff #seventeen carat #seventeen reaction #seventeen scenarios #seungkwan #boo seungkwan #seungkwan fluff #seungkwan angst #seungkwan x you #seungkwan x reader #seventeen angst #seungkwan imagines #seungkwan scenarios #svt

[pockettwinzz]

Against All Odds - L.HS

𝜗ৎSynopsis𝜗ৎ : Heeseung and Yn had never been on good terms with eachother. Yn had always like Heeseung, but Heeseung hadn't really realised how much he liked her until that one night...

𝜗ৎWarnings𝜗ৎ : MDNI, Smut, degradation words {slut, whore, etc}, Heeseung is kinda toxic, sadistic scenes {as always T.T}, Second ml syndrome, unprotected sex {naurr}

𝜗ৎAuthor's note𝜗ৎ : So it was supposed to be released 2 days agobut tumblr didn't save my draft so i basically re-wrote a lot of scenes and it turned out really rushed and i'm really sorry for that. And this is also my first fic exceeding over 2k words ^^ dividers and moodboard are by @dollywons

𝜗ৎWord count𝜗ৎ : 7.6 k {TT TT}

It had been years since I last saw Heeseung. We had grown up together, attending the same schools, sharing the same classrooms, and even living on the same street. But that all changed when we turned 18. Something had snapped inside of him, and he suddenly became this intolerable asshole who seemed to enjoy making my life a living hell. He knew I liked him and he'd always use it against me. He'd just fuck me and just disappear. I didn't understand it then, and I still didn't now, as I stood in front of the mirror in my dorm room, getting ready for the college welcome party.

I had been hesitant to go at first, mostly because I was afraid of running into him. But my friends had practically dragged me there, promising me that there were plenty of other people to meet and have fun with. And so, here I was, in the middle of a crowded room filled with strangers, trying to focus on the music and the laughter around me, while my mind kept drifting back to him.

Just then, a familiar voice cut through the noise, and I felt my heart skip a beat. It was him. Heeseung. He looked different somehow, older and more confident. His features were sharper, more defined, and he carried himself with an air of arrogance that I couldn't quite place. He was talking to a group of people I didn't recognize, laughing at something they must have said, and for a brief moment, I felt a strange mix of anger and jealousy rise up inside me.

But then, something unexpected happened. He glanced in my direction, our eyes meeting for the briefest of moments, and there was something in his expression that I couldn't quite decipher. It wasn't hatred, or anger, or even disdain. It was… something else. Curiosity, maybe? Before I could process it further, he turned away, returning to his conversation with his new friends.

A wave of confusion washed over me, and I found myself struggling to breathe as I tried to understand what had just happened. Why did he look at me like that? And why did it feel like my heart was about to burst out of my chest? I couldn't help but feel a strange mix of emotions swirling inside me, making it difficult to focus on anything else.

As the night went on, I found myself constantly glancing in his direction, watching him interact with others, trying to decipher the enigmatic expression that had been etched onto his face earlier. He was charismatic and engaging, and people seemed to gravitate towards him effortlessly. And yet, there was something about him that I couldn't quite put my finger on. Something that made me feel both drawn to him and repulsed at the same time.

I must have been staring at him for too long, because suddenly, someone handed me a drink. Before I could ask what it was, the fruity liquid went down my throat, and an unexpected warmth spread throughout my body. I felt a newfound sense of confidence wash over me, and with it came the urge to approach him. To say something, to break the ice. But what could I possibly say to someone like him?

I took another sip of my drink, trying to steady my nerves as I made my way through the crowd towards him. His back was to me, and for a brief moment, I considered just turning around and going back to my friends. But something inside me refused to let go of this absurd desire to confront him. Maybe it was the alcohol talking, or maybe it was the years of pent-up anger and frustration finally bubbling to the surface.

And before I knew it, the alcohol took over my sanity. With a deep breath, I tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around, his expression unreadable as he looked at me. For a moment, neither of us said anything. I could feel the blood pounding in my ears, and my heart raced as I searched for something to say. Anything to break the silence.

"Hey," I managed to choke out, my voice sounding strangely thick in my ears. "Remember me?"

He raised an eyebrow, seemingly amused by my drunken bravado. "Should I?" he drawled, his voice smooth as silk.

I couldn't help but feel a flash of anger at his arrogance. "You remember me, don't you?"

He chuckled, shaking his head. "You're exaggerating" he said, waving his hand dismissively. "I barely remember you."

I felt a stab of anger course through me as I realized I had been hoping for some sort of apology, some acknowledgement of the pain he had caused. But it seemed I was wrong.

"Well, maybe you don't remember me, but I remember you," I said, my voice shaking with emotion. "I remember every single time you called me names, every single time you pushed me around, every single time you made me feel like I wasn't good enough. Every single time you'd leave me alone and just disappear"

His expression turned mockingly sympathetic, and I felt a hot flush of anger course through me. "Is that so?" he drawled. "And what makes you think that any of that matters now?"

"Because it does matter!" I exclaimed, my voice rising. "It mattered then, and it matters now. You may think you're all grown up and sophisticated now, but you can't just walk away from the things you've done."

He laughed, shaking his head. "You really are something else, aren't you? Still holding onto the past like it means something."

I felt a sting of hurt at his words, but I refused to let it show. "The past shapes who we are, you know," I said, my voice steady despite the alcohol. "And you can't just pretend it never happened."

He snorted derisively. "Well, you're hardly in any position to judge me," he sneered. "Look at you, wasted and pathetic. Drunk off your ass at your own party."

I felt a stab of pain at his words, but I refused to let him see it. Instead, I smiled sweetly and took another sip of my drink. "You're right," I said, nodding slowly. "I am wasted. But you know what? It feels good to finally stand up to you, even if it is in a drunken haze."

"You're so fucking pathetic" He laughed, shaking his head. "Still so angry, still so… consumed by the past. You really think I give a shit about any of this?" He took a step closer, his breath hot against my ear. "Look at you, drunk and pathetic. Just like the old days."

He pulled me by my waist, closer to him, "Aren't you still the slut who wants to beg for my cock?"

 He leaned in closer, his breath hot against my neck. "You think you're someone important, someone who can stand up to me?" He said as he nibbled the flesh around my neck, sending shivers down my spine. "You're still just a pathetic little whore, just like you always were."

I couldn't help but fall into his manipulative touch again. It was as if I was drawn to the pain, as if I needed him to hurt me in order to feel alive. I let out a soft moan, arching my back against him as he continued to nibble and suck at my neck. His hands moved lower, cupping my ass and grinding me against his hard length. The alcohol seemed to fog my thoughts, making it difficult to focus on anything but the sensation of his body against mine.

--

So here we were, in Heeseung's house. I had no idea how we even ended up her but all I could feel right now were  his fingers tracing patterns on my skin, making me shiver. He leaned in closer, his breath hot against my ear, and whispered, "You're such a slut for me."

And just like that, something inside me snapped. It was like a switch had been flipped. All of a sudden, I didn't care about how much I hated him or how much he pissed me off. I didn't care how I was letting him have me so easily, how wrong this was. All I could think about was how good it would feel to have him inside me. How right it would feel to have him claim me again, even if just for this one night.

I arched my back, pressing my bare chest against his, and whispered back, "You know I am, Heeseung." And before I could even process what was happening, his hand found the hem of my shirt and yanked it over my head.

My breath hitched as his eyes roamed over my bare skin, tracing the lines of my collarbone and the swell of my breasts. He cupped one of them in his hand, thumb teasing at the peak of my nipple. "You're so beautiful," he murmured, and then his lips were on me, sucking gently at my nipple while his fingers worked their magic, rubbing and teasing until I was moaning into his mouth.

He eased me back onto the bed, his body pressing against mine, and I could feel his erection against my thigh. Heat pooled low in my belly, and I spread my legs wider, inviting him in. "Fuck me," I breathed, and he groaned, sliding his hands down to my hips, lifting me up, and guiding himself inside me.

I let out a sharp cry as he filled me, the feeling of being so completely possessed by him sending a wave of pleasure through me. I wrapped my legs around his waist, digging my nails into his back, and he started moving, his hips thrusting in a rhythm that was as familiar to me as my own heartbeat.

"S-so fucking tight" his voice ragged and low, and I could feel myself growing closer and closer to the edge. I could feel the tension building inside me, coiling tight, and I knew I was going to come soon, so I arched my back, meeting each of his thrusts with a moan, urging him on.

And then he groaned, his body tense as he released himself deep inside me, and I felt the first wave of my orgasm crash over me, shattering every nerve ending in my body. His name was on my lips as I came, and he seemed to draw strength from it, his hips moving faster, harder, until I could feel another orgasm building, ready to explode from deep within me.

He leaned down, capturing my lips in a fierce, possessive kiss, his tongue thrusting deep into my mouth as he continued to move, his body moving in perfect rhythm with mine. I could feel the muscles in his back flex and relax as he powered into me, each thrust driving me closer and closer to the edge.

As I neared my second climax, he began to whisper dirty words in my ear, his voice low and husky, sending shivers down my spine."Such a slut for my dick, Aren't ya!".

"I hate you so much" I said, and it was in that moment that I realized how much I loved the way he made me feel. How much I loved the way he made me lose control. Although I wanted to hate him, but my body wouldn't agree.

And then he groaned, his body tensing as he came again, filling me up with his heat and his passion. His weight pressed down on me, holding me to the bed, and I could feel the aftershocks of our combined orgasms rippling through my body. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead before rolling off to the side, his breathing still ragged and uneven.

For a moment, we lay there in silence, our bodies tangled together, and I could feel the warmth of his skin against mine. I wanted to hate him for the things he'd said, for the way he'd treated me, but in that moment, all I could think about was how good it had felt to be with him. How right it had felt to give in to the desire that had been building between us for so long.

---

The next morning I woke up to an empty space beside me. I rolled out of bed. The room was still spinning, my head pounding, and my body aching in places I didn't know existed. As I stumbled to the bathroom, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of regret for last night. Not for the sex, but for the way I'd let him get under my skin again.

I wore his hoodie along with his pants  as I made my way downstairs, the scent of him still clinging to the fabric. The apartment was quiet, and I could hear the faint sound of the TV coming from his room. I hesitated for a moment before knocking on the door. When there was no answer, I pushed it open and found him sprawled across the bed, his back to me, a remote control in his hand.

"Hey," I said, my voice barely audible.

He didn't respond, and for a moment I thought he hadn't heard me. But then he slowly turned his head to look at me over his shoulder. His eyes were bloodshot, and he looked exhausted. There was a slight smile on his lips, and it made my heart ache.

"Hey," he repeated, his voice rough. "You look good in my clothes, But you look even better without them"

I felt a blush creep up my cheeks at his words. "You're an asshole, you know that?" I said, trying to keep the anger in my voice. But the truth was, I didn't feel angry anymore. I felt confused.

He chuckled, sitting up a little more before looking me in the eye. "You love it, though," he said with a grin. "You know you can't resist me." His hand reached out to trace my cheekbone, and I felt myself lean into his touch despite everything.

I hated how easy of a target I was. How I always fell into his lousy trap but couldn't help myself. His touch, his words, they were like a drug to me, and I had no self-control when it came to them. But I couldn't let him see that. I had to keep some part of myself hidden, some part that wasn't just a slave to his whims.

 I pulled away from his touch, forcing a small laugh as I did so. "Oh, please. You're just as addicted to me as I am to you." I turned to walk back out of the room, but before I could take more than a step, he grabbed my wrist roughly, pulling me back against his chest. His other arm came around me, holding me tightly as he buried his face in my neck.

"You're right," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I am addicted to you. I can't get enough of you." His grip on me tightened, and I could feel the warmth of his body through his sweatpants. "But you know what?" he continued, his breath hot against my skin. "I want more. I want all of you." His words sent a shiver down my spine, and I could feel myself melting against him.

I wanted to tell him that I couldn't give him any more, that I was already giving too much. But the truth was, I didn't want to. I wanted to be his, even if it meant losing myself in the process. So instead, I closed my eyes and let him take whatever he wanted from me.

His lips found mine, soft and gentle at first, before growing more demanding. His hands roamed over my body, touching me everywhere as if he needed to feel every inch of me. The bed creaked beneath us as he pulled me on top of him, never breaking the kiss as he guided me down, his hips rising to meet me.

"H-heeseung I can't do this anymore." I said as tears filled my eyes. The truth was I wanted to be loved, and he was the only one who could give me that. But I couldn't keep giving him pieces of myself. I had to stop.

His hands stilled on my body, and he pulled back to look at me, confusion and hurt flitting across his features. "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper. "You don't want this?"

I took a deep breath, trying to find the words to explain. "No."

He looked at me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. "Okay" he said as he let me go, sitting up and rubbing his neck. "I understand." There was a note of finality in his voice that made my heart ache. "I'll leave you alone."

--

It had been a few weeks since  I had seen him. We hadn't spoken or texted each other since that night in his room. I had tried to forget about him, to move on, but it was impossible. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw his face, felt his touch. I knew I had been stupid to expect anything more from him, but the hope had been there, and now it was gone.

I'd seen him at college really often but anytime I'd try to look in his eyes, he'd turn away. It was as if he was ashamed of something. I knew I shouldn't have expected more from him, but it was hard not to. I missed the way he used to look at me, like I was the only one in the room. I missed the way he would touch me, like he truly wanted me. I missed him.

One day while walking to class, I feel someone bump into me. I turn around, to see who it was. It's this guy from my English class, Jake. He's always been nice to me, and I've always wondered what he looks like under that beanie. He smiles at me and says he's sorry, then asks if I'm okay.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I reply, looking him in the eyes. "Thanks for asking."

He smiles back at me, and there's something different about it this time. It's warmer, more genuine. Maybe it's just me, but I get the feeling that he's been watching me too. "You're looking good today," he says, glancing down at my outfit. "That color really suits you." His words make me feel self-conscious, but in a good way.

"Thanks," I reply, trying to hide the blush that's creeping up my neck. "I think you look pretty good yourself." I can't help but notice that he's dressed a bit differently today. His usual plaid shirt is gone, replaced by a button-down that shows off his broad shoulders. He looks...dapper, maybe? It's a strange word to think about him, but it fits.

He seems to notice me looking and grins. "Thanks, I was going for a different look today. You like it?" His confidence is endearing, and I can't help but smile back.

I caught Heeseung glaring at us like..... Like he was jealous. I couldn't help but feel something in my chest as I watched him watch them. He had been so possessive of me, even though I'd never been his. The way he would get angry when another guy would talk to me, the way he would insist that I was his and his alone. It was like living with a possessive, jealous lover. But I couldn't deny the fact that there was something about him that drew me in. Something that made me want him despite... everything.

As the days went by, I became really good friends with Jake although I knew he liked me, it was too obvious please. He was always there for me, making me laugh, making me feel wanted. I knew he was just as lonely as I was. He never made me feel pressured or uncomfortable. He was just...perfect. But for some reason I could never forget about Heeseung, the way  he used to make me feel, the way he made me want to be with him. It was like an addiction I couldn't shake off.

---

One night, after a particularly bad day, I found myself in the library, studying for an exam. I didn't even know why I was here, as I had already finished my work, but I just couldn't bring myself to go back to my empty dorm room. I was just about to leave when I hear a familiar voice calling my name.

It's Heeseung.

He looks different than I remember him. His hair is longer and messier, falling over his eyes in the most endearing way. He's wearing a simple t-shirt and jeans, but he's not glowing like he usually is. I can't help but feel a mix of emotions as I look at him. Pain, regret, and...jealousy.

"Hey" he says, his voice rough and husky. "I've been meaning to talk to you." I want to run, to avoid this conversation, but something in his voice makes me stay. He walks over to me and takes a seat across from me at the table. "I've been a real jerk to you and I'm sorry." His apology catches me off guard. "I've been so wrapped up in my own head that I've been treating you like crap."

Heeseung looks at me, his eyes searching mine. "I've been thinking a lot about us lately, and I realize that I never gave us a chance. I was so convinced that there was nothing between us." He hesitates for a moment, swallowing hard. "But I was wrong. You deserve better than that. You deserve to be with someone who really sees you, who really wants you for you."

I can feel the weight of his words pressing down on my chest. A part of me wants to believe him, wants to take him back and forget about everything that happened between us. But another part of me is afraid. Afraid that he'll hurt me again, afraid that he'll push me away again and leave me again.

"I'm sorry, and that I want you to be happy. I want you to be with someone who deserves you." He pauses, looking at me intensely. "And I hope that person is Jake. He's a good guy, and he really cares about you."

As Heeseung walks away, tears fell out of my eyes as i sobbed. I still loved Heeseung, and I know I could never forget him, nor did I want to. I wanted to run out, hug him and  tell him that I missed him, but I knew it was too late. He had finally let me go. "This is what you wanted Yn" I said to myself in between my cries.

The next day at uni, I didn't know how to act around him. Part of me wanted to tell him that I still loved him, but the other part knew that it was better this way. We didn't talk much that day, but we didn't avoid each other either. It was almost as if we were both scared to face what had happened between us.

--

After class, I decided to go to the cafeteria to grab something to eat. As I'm sitting there, lost in my thoughts, I feel a presence beside me. I look up and it's Jake.

"Hey, you okay?" he asks, concern written all over his face.

I force a smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just had a lot on my mind."

He nods, understandingly. "Want to talk about it?"

I shake my head, not really wanting to get into it. "It's just... stuff." I take a deep breath, trying to find the words to explain how I feel. "Heeseung and I had this thing, you know? We were really close, but then things changed. I don't know how to explain it."

Jake nods, his expression sympathetic. "I think I understand what you're going through. It's hard when feelings change, especially when you're so close to someone." He pauses, considering his next words carefully. "But you know, maybe it's not a bad thing. Maybe it means that there's someone else out there who's better for you."

I can't help but feel a tiny bit of hope at his words. It's true that I've been so focused on Heeseung that I haven't really considered anyone else. But the more I think about it, the more I realize that Jake has always been there for me. He's always been supportive and kind, and he makes me feel good about myself. But I knew I could never return his feelings to him.

"Thanks, Jake," I say, my voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know what I would've done without you."

He smiles at me, his brown eyes warm. "You don't need to thank me. I'm just here for you, you know? Whatever you need." He hesitates for a moment, then reaches out to take my hand. His fingers intertwine with mine, sending a shiver down my spine. "I've always been here for you, Yn. And I'll always be here for you, okay?"

"Thanks, Jake. I appreciate that more than you know." But just then I found Heeseung looking at us, he smiled but.... he looked sad and guilty. I looked away, not wanting to hurt Jake's feelings. But at the same time I wanted to be true to myself, cause I knew I wasn't over Heeseung.

----

Hours pass by in a blur, and before I know it, it's time to go home. As I gather my things, I can't help but feel a mix of emotions. On one hand, I'm happy that Jake is there for me, but on the other hand, there's a huge part of me that misses Heeseung. I wish things could be different, but I know they can't.

As I was leaving, Jake walks me to my car. The sun is setting, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink. It's beautiful, yet somehow it only serves as a reminder of how my world feels like it's falling apart.

"Hey, you wanna hang out sometime?" Jake asks, his voice soft. "Maybe we could go see a movie or grab dinner or something?"

 "Thanks, Jake. I appreciate it but...." I trail off, unable to meet his eyes. "Look, I know you like me but I- I'm sorry Jake." I can't do this to him. I can't lead him on while I'm still in love with someone else.

He nods, understandingly. "I get it. You don't have to apologize. I'm just here if you ever want to talk or hang out or whatever." He smiles at me, but there's a hint of sadness in his eyes.

"Jake, you deserve someone better. Someone who actually loves you. Please forgive me." I say, biting my bottom lip.

He takes a step closer, cupping my face with his hands. "Yn, I don't care if you love me or not. I just want to be your friend. And if that's all I ever am to you, then that's okay. I'll be here, waiting for you, whenever you need me." His eyes search mine, trying to convey the depth of his feelings. He tried to smile but the sadness was evident in his eyes. "I hope things work out between you and.... Heeseung"

I smile at him, feeling a twinge of guilt for leading him on. "Thanks, Jake. You really are a great friend. I'm sorry for putting you through this." I lean in and hug him, grateful for his understanding and support.

As I pull away from the hug, I can't help but wonder if things will ever be the same between us.

Jake steps back, nodding toward my car. "Well, I should let you go. Take it easy tonight, okay?" He gives me a small wave as I climb into my car and start the engine. I wave back, watching as he turns and walks away.

The drive home is a blur. My mind is spinning with thoughts of Jake and Heeseung. I can't help but feel guilty for leading Jake on, even if he is my friend. And as for Heeseung, I don't know what to think. I still love him, but I can't deny that seeing Jake there tonight made me feel something too.

When I finally pull into my driveway, I'm exhausted both physically and emotionally. I climb out of my car, my muscles aching from the day's practice. The air is cool, the sky dark. The familiar scent of home fills my nose, but it doesn't bring the comfort I'm craving.

As I trudge up the steps to my front door, I can't help but feel like I'm drowning in a sea of confusion and conflicting emotions. I want to talk to Heeseung, to work things out with him.

---

"Fuck everything." i mumbled to myself, sitting on a bench, consumed by alcohol. I'm not even sure how many drinks I've had, but it's way too many. My head spins and my vision blurs. I just want to forget, to feel numb. But it doesn't seem to be working.

I feel a hand pat on my  shoulder, startling me out of my thoughts. I look up to see Heeseung standing there, looking down at me with a mixture of concern and confusion. "Hey, are you okay?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

I shrug, trying to play it cool. "Yeah, I'm fine." My words come out slurred, and I can tell he doesn't believe me. He kneels down in front of me, his eyes searching mine.

"You're not fine, Y/N. You're drunk. You shouldn't be out here alone." He reaches out and takes my hand, his grip firm but gentle. "Come on, let's get you inside." He pulls me to my feet, and I lean heavily against him, my head spinning.

As we make our way toward the front door, I feel a strange sense of comfort in his presence. He walks me over to the couch and carefully sits me down, making sure I'm stable. Then he disappears into the kitchen, only to return a moment later with a glass of water. "Drink this," he says, handing it to me.

"W-why?" I asked, my voice barely audible. "Why are you being so nice to me?" He looks at me with a hurt look.

"Because I care about you, Y/N. I'm sorry if I was always being so selfish, I never cared about your feelings but... ever since I let you go, I can't stop thinking about you. I miss you so much." He sighs, his voice raw with emotion. "I want to be with you, Y/N. I want to work things out between us. I don't want to lose you again. I want to try and work things out. I want to show you how much I've changed and how much I've grown. I want to be the person you deserve, the person you need."

He reaches out and cups my face in his hands, his eyes searching mine. "I love you, Y/N. I always have and I always will. Please, give me another chance. I promise I won't let you down again." His words echo in my head, washing over me like a warm summer rain. I can feel the weight of my emotions lifting, the fog beginning to clear.

As I look into his eyes, I know that I can't turn away from this feeling anymore. I can't deny the love that I have for him. "I love you too, Heeseung," I whisper, my voice barely audible even to my own ears.

He lets out a shaky breath, his grip on my face tightening just for a moment before he relaxes it again. "Thank you," he whispers back, his voice thick with emotion. "Thank you for giving me this chance."

He brought his face near to mine, his lips  brushing against mine so softly it sent a shiver down my spine. Our kiss was gentle at first, but it quickly deepened as we both surrendered to the overwhelming desire that had been simmering beneath the surface for far too long. His hands moved through my hair, cupping my head as he angled his mouth to fit perfectly with mine. I felt the heat from his body, the strength in his arms, and it all made me feel safe and protected.

I wrapped my arms around him, pressing my body against his, and moaned into his mouth as he explored every inch of it. He made a low growl deep in his throat, a sound that sent a thrill through me, and he began to kiss me more urgently. I could feel his heart pounding against my chest as our passion rose, and it made me want him even more.

As we continued to kiss, his hands wandered lower, moving over my hips and then up my sides, cupping my breasts through my shirt. I arched into his touch, moaning into his mouth, and he responded by pulling my shirt over my head in one swift motion. His lips found my bare skin, sucking and nipping at my sensitive flesh as he moved lower, kissing a trail down my neck and collarbone. I gasped and shivered under his touch, my fingers tangling in his hair.

He  pulled back, looking at me with lust-filled eyes. "You're so beautiful," he breathed, his voice raspy with desire. Then, with a swift movement, he swept me up into his arms and carried me over to the bedroom. The room spun as he lay me down on the bed, his weight pressing me into the mattress. His hands moved to the hem of my shorts, tugging them off in a single fluid motion.

He leaned down, his lips finding my center, and I cried out, arching my back off the bed. He teased me with his tongue, circling and probing until I was writhing beneath him. "Heeseung," I moaned, my voice barely audible. He smiled against my skin, his hand moving between my legs to find my clit. With his expert fingers, he began to stroke me, in time with his tongue, and I felt my orgasm building, growing closer with each passing second.

He straightened up, looking down at me, his eyes dark with desire. "You're so beautiful when you come," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. And then he leaned down, his lips finding mine once more as my orgasm crashed over me in a wave of pure pleasure. Our tongues tangled together, our bodies moving in perfect rhythm as we came together in this moment, this beautiful, intimate exchange of love and desire.

As the intensity of our kiss began to subside, Heeseung pulled back, gazing down at me with an expression of awe and wonder. His hands moved to my hips, gently spreading my legs, and then lower, cupping my bottom. He kissed me again, this time slower and more tender, his lips brushing against mine in a soft, teasing dance.

I ran my fingers through his hair, feeling the softness of it against my fingertips. "You feel so good," I murmured, arching into him as he continued to kiss me. His response was to nip at my bottom lip, making me gasp, before moving his lips back to mine.

His touch was everywhere, possessive and gentle all at once. His fingers traced along my collarbone, teasing the sensitive skin beneath my breasts, and lower still, until they found the dampness between my legs. He circled my clit, making me shiver with anticipation, and then he pushed two fingers inside me, moving in a slow, steady rhythm.

I arched into his touch, my nails digging into his shoulders as I felt the familiar tightness building within me. He kissed me deeply, his tongue tangling with mine, and it felt like we were the only two people in the world. The world outside this bedroom faded away, replaced by the intense sensation of his skin against mine, the smell of him filling my nose, and the feel of him moving inside me.

He continued to thrust slowly, his rhythm matching the pace of our breath, and I could feel myself growing closer and closer to the edge. I whimpered into his mouth, my hips moving in time with his, urging him on. He moaned into the crook of my neck, his body trembling against mine as he neared his release.

He pulled back slightly, looking down at me with eyes that were dark with desire. "I want to feel you around me," he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. His fingers left my body, moving lower to spread my folds open, revealing my wetness. Then he positioned himself at my entrance, guiding himself back inside.

As he sank deeper, I gasped, arching my back off the bed. He was so big, so full, and it felt incredible to have him inside me again. He began to move, his hips thrusting in a steady rhythm that matched the beat of my heart. His skin was hot against mine, his muscles tense as he fought to control his movements.

He brushed his lips against my neck, his teeth scraping gently over the sensitive skin. "You're so tight," he murmured, his voice husky with desire. "It feels incredible." He pulled back slightly, then thrust forward again, burying himself deeper still. His movements grew more urgent, his breath coming in ragged gasps as the pleasure built within him.

I arched my back, meeting his thrusts with my own, my nails digging into his shoulders as I felt myself begin to lose control. Heat pooled low in my belly, spreading through my body in a wave of pleasure that threatened to consume me. "Heeseung," I moaned, my voice hoarse from the intensity of the moment. "I'm close."

He growled, his movements becoming more urgent as he felt me begin to tighten around him. His hips slammed against mine in a rhythm that was as brutal as it was beautiful. He leaned down, capturing my lips in a deep, passionate kiss, his tongue dancing with mine as he drove into me over and over again.

The sensation of being so completely filled by him was unlike anything I'd ever experienced. It felt like we were one, our bodies in perfect harmony, moving together as if we'd been practicing this dance our entire lives. My nails dug into his shoulders, leaving marks that would no doubt linger long after we'd parted, a reminder of this moment, this connection.

His movements grew more urgent as he neared his release, his hips slamming into mine with an intensity that left me gasping for air. The pleasure built within me, tightening my core, making every nerve ending tingle with anticipation. I arched my back, meeting his thrusts with my own, my body trembling with the effort to hold on to this feeling, to make it last just a moment longer.

He moaned into my neck, his muscles tensing beneath my fingers as he came, his hips bucking wildly against mine. I felt the hot spurts of his release deep inside me, and with a cry of pleasure that seemed to echo through the room, I followed him over the edge.

My body convulsed around him, my inner muscles squeezing tightly as wave after wave of intense pleasure washed over me. I arched my back off the bed, feeling the familiar tightness in my core as my orgasm peaked and then began to slowly subside. He remained inside me, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he fought to regain control.

His skin was slick with sweat, and mine felt sticky where we were pressed together. He withdrew carefully from my body, lowering himself to lie beside me. His lips brushed against my neck, leaving a trail of tiny, hot kisses as he traced the line of my collarbone with his fingertips. "That was incredible," he murmured, his voice still shaky from the intensity of our lovemaking. "I can't believe how good that felt."

I ran my fingers through his sweat-dampened hair, feeling the softness of it against my palm. "Neither can I," I whispered, looking up at him.

He smiled down at me, his eyes filled with tenderness. "I think," he said, his voice still rough with emotion, "I think I could stay like this with you forever." He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to my lips.

We fell asleep in  each other's arms, tangled together like two bodies meant to fit perfectly. The sheets were kicked off, revealing our entwined limbs and the line of his muscular back. I rested my head on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart beneath my ear. The room was dim, the sunlight filtering through the curtains in a soft, golden glow

--

For the first time in a while I'd felt so good. It felt like everything was perfect now.

As the days went by, we settled into a comfortable routine. Waking up together, making breakfast in the small kitchen, and then spending the mornings exploring the city. We would hold hands as we walked, sometimes stopping to kiss in the shadows of an alleyway or nestled against a tree in a park. The warmth of his skin against mine, the softness of his lips on mine, it all felt so right.

One evening, as we sat at the small dining table eating takeout from our favorite Thai restaurant, Heeseung reached across the table and took my hand in his. His touch sent a shiver down my spine. "I've been meaning to talk to you about something," he began, his voice a little hesitant. "I've been thinking about what we're going to do with our lives now that we've graduated."

I looked up at him, feeling a knot forming in my stomach. "What do you mean?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box. His hands were shaking as he placed it on the table in front of me. "I've been thinking that maybe we should... maybe we should get married," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I know it's sudden, but every time I look at you, I feel like I'm home. Like I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be."

My heart swelled at his words. It was a feeling so foreign, so overwhelmingly beautiful that for a moment I couldn't speak. I reached out, taking his hand in mine and squeezing it gently. "Heeseung, I-" I began, but he cut me off, his eyes shining with unshed tears.

"I know it's a lot to ask, but it's like we're meant to be together. I can't imagine spending my life with anyone else. I want you to be my wife, my partner, my best friend. I want to grow old with you, and I want to raise a family with you."

His words brought tears to my eyes, and I could feel the warmth of them spilling down my cheeks. I reached out, taking him in my arms, burying my face in his neck. "Of course I'll marry you," I whispered, my voice trembling. "I love you too."

He let out a shaky breath, wrapping his arms around me tightly. "I love you so so much. I can't imagine spending my life with anyone else."

I pulled back, cupping his face in my hands, and smiled at him through my tears. "Me neither. I love you, too, Heeseung. I would marry you a thousand times over."

He wiped away my tears with his thumbs, as he opened the box, he pulled out a small, elegant ring. The diamond glinted in the light, and I felt my breath hitch in my throat. "Will you marry me?" he asked, his voice trembling with emotion. "Will you spend the rest of your life with me?"

Tears streaming down my face, I nodded, unable to find my voice. I took the ring, slipping it onto the finger he held out, and felt a rush of happiness so intense it threatened to overwhelm me. He cupped my face in his hands and kissed me, his lips soft and tender against mine. It was a kiss that spoke of promises and hopes and dreams, and I knew in that moment that no matter what challenges or obstacles lay ahead of us, we would face them together.

This was it. This was the moment I had been waiting for, the moment I had always hoped would come. As I looked into Heeseung's eyes, I could see the love, the devotion, and the promise of a future together. His words, his touch, his presence; they all made me feel like the luckiest woman in the world. And now, with his proposal ring glistening on my finger, I knew that this was real, that we were really going to spend the rest of our lives together.

We had faced so many obstacles since we met in college. I couldn't help but remember the old us, if only we had talked about things earlier, if only I told him about my feelings from the start, maybe we wouldn't have struggled so much. But all I  could do now was to cherish the moment we were in. It felt like a new beginning, a fresh start. Maybe we were meant to be, I mean getting married after all that happened between us! It's like we fought against all odds just to be here.

𝜗ৎTaglist𝜗ৎ : @cha-eui @alvojake @heeslut4life @wondipity @dollywons @wonlvkay @nyxtwixx @yeonzzzn @rikiwaify-blog @seokseokjinkim @heelovesmeknot @kimsunoops @heelvsted @kirinaa08

#pockettwinzz writes #haze <3 #enhypen #enha x reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen heeseung #lee heeseung #heeseung x reader #heeseung smut #heeseung fluff #heeseung x yn #heeseung angst #enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #enha smut

[vintagecarat]

Drunk Words are Sober Thoughts

Summary: Spencer’s been, uncharacteristically, ignoring you all day, and you’re determined to find out why.

A/N: I’m still alive, I promise! I forgot how much I loved posting my work on Tumblr (the validation seeker in me feels so fulfilled every time I look at my inbox). This was one of the first ‘x reader’ fics I ever wrote, but it’s been a couple of years since and I’m really hoping there’s been some improvement. 

Enjoy the fic, and have a fantastic day <3

Note(s): gn!reader & no pronouns used, mentions of alcohol (reader gets quite drunk), shameless Korean movie name drop, drunken confessions and kisses (with consent!)

Word Count: 2801

* * *

Heavy sheets of rain pelted down onto you as you weaved through the busy streets. Occasionally, a car would drive through the roadside puddles, splashing you and soaking you to the bone. You hadn’t brought a coat. You didn’t think you were going to need one. The sun had still been shining when you’d left your apartment in Quantico.

You had planned to go home, collapse onto your couch and work your way through a tub of cookie dough ice cream that you knew was sitting in the back of your freezer. Instead, you’d taken the hour-long journey to Washington DC. Spencer had been completely ignoring you, and Spencer was never the type to completely ignore you. You hadn’t managed to speak to him at all throughout the day, you'd barely been able to make eye contact with him for more than a millisecond, and you wanted to know why.

Standing outside Spencer's door, your eyes crossed as you watched a water droplet drip from your nose. You were acutely aware of the puddles you were leaving on the carpet and you shifted in place a little, hoping to not soak one particular spot too much.

You hadn't even noticed that Spencer had opened the door until he softly said your name, "What…" he started to say, speaking as if he was in a trance, "What are you doing here?"

"Hey, Spencer," you gave him a little lopsided smile, "Can I come in?"

Spencer looked you up and down briefly, and for a moment you were convinced that he was about to slam the door in your face, "Yeah. Come in," he shuffled aside, "You must be freezing."

You slid past him, "Yeah," you laughed, your teeth chattering. You hadn't realised how cold you actually were until you stepped into his apartment where the heating system was on full blast, "You could say that."

"Hang on. Let me just…" Spencer scampered into a room on the other side of the apartment. You could hear him clattering around before he returned a moment later with a towel in one hand and a thread-worn jumper in the other, "Here."

You quickly and gratefully slipped the jumper over your head and draped the towel around your shoulders, breathing a tiny sigh of relief when the cold water stopped dripping onto your neck, "Thanks, Spencer."

A silence fell over the two of you. Spencer's eyes darted around the apartment, making sure to pay attention to everything except you. You and Spencer were never awkward with each other.

"Look, Spence," you clung to the towel a little bit tighter, "I didn't come here to steal a jumper, even though that seems like a great idea right now."

"We need to talk, don't we?"

"Yeah, we do," a sudden wave of self consciousness washed over you, "Have I done something wrong?"

"No, why would…"

"You know you can always tell me if I've done something wrong," you started to ramble, "I don't mind. I'm not going to get mad, or offended, or…"

Spencer cut you off, "Why would you think you've done anything wrong?"

You ran a hand through your wet hair, "Spence, you've been ignoring me all day."

~

You triumphantly clutched the tickets in your balled up fist, "I did it!"

Derek's eyes followed the little scraps of paper as you waved them up and down, "Great. What did you do?"

"I got the tickets!" you excitedly shoved them in his face, "Look!"

"Yeah, I know what tickets are," he gently swatted your arm away, "What are they for?"

"Mother!" you told him, and only when he raised an eyebrow at you did you realise how strange it sounded with zero context, "It's a South Korean movie," you told him, "They're doing a screening of it later this week, and they haven't translated it so it still entirely in Korean."

"I didn't know you knew Korean."

You shrugged, "I'm not exactly conversational, but I understand most of the language. Spencer and I were discussing it the other day so I got tickets for the both of us so we could go together, and…" you stopped when you saw the smirk Derek was hiding behind his coffee cup, "What?"

"Nothing."

"No. What?"

Derek took a deliberately slow sip of his coffee, "It's not my place, really."

"That has literally never stopped you before," you rolled your eyes, "What's wrong? Do you think it's…" you were cut off when the elevator chimed and Spencer stepped out, "Oh! Spence!" you had to jog to catch up with his fast pace, "I got tickets for that movie we were talking about, and I managed to get two so we can go together!"

"I don't think I can."

Spencer's answer made you falter, "What? I thought you were looking forward to seeing it," you said, "It's not until next week, so…"

"No, it's fine. You go and see it, though."

You stopped and watched as Spencer entered the bullpen, took a seat at his desk and proceeded to busy himself in a case file, "Did I do something wrong?"

Derek sidled up to you, sipping on his coffee, "I'd say you did everything right, actually."

"Derek," you warned him, "I swear to God, you sip that coffee suspiciously one more time and it's going straight out of the nearest window."

"Hey! I paid good money for this."

~

"I haven't been ignoring you."

"Please don't deny it, Spencer. That makes it worse," you said, "Ignoring me. Avoiding me. Doesn't matter what you want to call it. You've been doing it."

Spencer avoided your eyes, "I guess I didn't realise."

"Yeah, I didn't think you did," with a sigh  you flopped dramatically onto his couch, "I'd rather you be screaming at me, or I'd even rather you be passive aggressive with me, or something. At least then I'd know that I'd done something wrong."

"I told you, you haven't done anything wrong."

"I've obviously done something to make it seem like you suddenly hate me," you said, "You don't usually ignore your friends for no good reason."

"Hate you? I could never hate you," Spencer sighed, and he sat down on the couch beside you, "You really don't know what happened, do you?"

"If I did, do you think I'd be here?"

He sighed again, "The other night, when we went out after work," he started, "What do you remember?"

"I remember we all went to that new bar that Rossi’s always going on about, and I remember Prentiss getting us involved in that drinking game that I’m sure she was making up as the night went along, and…" you froze, "Oh. Oh no," you groaned, "Please don't tell me I did my Backstreet Boys karaoke set."

"It was quite good, actually," he paused, a smile taking over his face for a second, "Some interesting choreography, too."

You sank further into the couch cushions, buying your face in your hands, "This is the worst day of my life."

"That's it? You don't remember anything else?"

"No," you shook your head, "What else did I do? Did I drop some NSYNC into the mix, or something?" you noticed a faint blush creeping up Spencer's neck, "Spencer?"

"You kissed me."

"What?!"

~

"Are they going to be alright?"

Spencer and Derek looked to the doors of the bar where you and Penelope were stumbling out onto the street.

"I love you so much, Pen."

"I love you too, my sweet angel," Penelope grabbed your shoulders and gently shook you, "You are one of my bestest friends in the whole entire world."

"Alright," Derek slid into the conversation, "I think we best get you two home, hm?"

"And you," Penelope turned to Derek, prodding him in the chest, "You are just the most magnificent person I’ve ever seen," she gently slapped his cheek, "Mr.Magnificent."

You giggled, putting on your best Derek impression, "Lock up your doors. Mr. Magnificent is here."

"Okay. Alright. As much as I'm loving this conversation we're having," he took hold of Penelope firmly by the shoulders and steered her down the street, "You need to go home."

"Speak soon, my love," you blew Penelope a kiss as she and Derek disappeared into the night. You turned to Spencer, "Let's go!" you dramatically pointed in the vague direction of your apartment and strode off.

"Wait," Spencer ran to catch up with you, "You're not going home on your own."

"Obviously," you dramatically rolled your eyes, grabbing Spencer's wrist, "You're coming with me, silly!"

Spencer let out a sound akin to a yelp as you dragged him down the street, and he had to apologise profusely to a couple that you almost rammed into, "Slow down," he called, "Do you even know where you're going?"

You stopped and stared at him, a hand on your chin as you pretended to think, "Of course I do," you bounded off, though Spencer quickly caught your arm.

"You're going the wrong way."

"No, I'm not," you continued marching down the street, only to stop a few steps away and turn on your heel, "Oh."

Spencer shook his head, an amused smile playing on his lips, "Told you."

You marched past Spencer, and you grabbed his hand, "We're going the wrong way."

"We?!"

You and Spencer wandered through the streets in near silence for a moment, the only sound being you humming a completely out of tune song to yourself. You didn’t live far from the bar, and you could’ve usually walked the distance in two minutes. It probably took you almost ten considering you decided to keep stopping at every single little thing that caught your interest.

At one point, Spencer had to grab your hand and drag you down the street. You didn’t mind, though. You could feel your skin tingle a little when your hands connected.

“Oh, come on,” Spencer stood in front of the elevator in your apartment building, practically groaning in frustration at the ‘out of order’ sign that was plastered to the doors, “You have got to be kidding me.”

“It’s broken.”

“I know it’s broken.”

You sat down heavily on the stairs. Your legs were starting to get a little wobbly, and your eyes were starting to droop from tiredness, “It’s always broken.”

Spencer turned to you, shaking his head in amusement when he saw you sitting on the stairs and staring at the ceiling. You weren’t exactly staring at anything in particular, though, “Are you even capable of using the stairs right now?”

“I will be if you carry me.”

“I’m not carrying you,” Spencer gently tugged on your arm, “Come on. What floor is your apartment on?”

“Tenth.”

“Oh, for…” he quickly cut himself off, and he began coaxing you towards the stairs, though he was considering dragging you upstairs at this point, “Alright. Come on, then. Let’s get you home.”

“I don’t want to,” you whined, and you tugged on his hand, “No… No, I have a secret…”

Spencer looked back at you with that same amused smile playing on his lips as he took in your dishevelled state. You looked even worse now that you were indoors, and you looked like you so desperately needed your bed.

“What is it?”

“I can’t shout it out loud, can I?” you giggled again, and you beckoned him closer, “Come here. Let me whisper it.”

“Alright,” Spencer rolled his eyes affectionately, and he took a step closer to you, “Can you tell me now?”

“No,” you grabbed a hold of his jacket as you tugged him a little closer to you, “There. Close enough,” you leant in so that your lips were practically on his ear, “I want to kiss you.”

Spencer’s reaction was as if someone had burned him with a hot iron. He took a step back, and his expression was one of pure unadulterated shock, “You… You want to…” he was at a complete loss for words, “You want to kiss me?”

You hummed in response to his shock, and you clapped your hands. You were practically bouncing up and down on the balls of your feet in excitement as if you’d won something, “Yeah! Can I kiss you? Because I really want to kiss you.”

For a long moment, Spencer’s mouth opened and closed as if he were a fish out of water. It was almost comical, and it definitely made you laugh harder than you already were. Even with your alcohol-clouded brain, you couldn’t help but admire how utterly cute he was. 

“I… I…” Spencer fumbled over his words for a few more seconds, but then he seemed to collect himself. He straightened up, and despite the blush painting his cheeks, his shocked expression morphed into one of happiness, “Yeah. Okay. I… I really want to kiss you, too.”

“Yay!” you barely even gave him a chance to prepare himself before you grabbed his collar and pressed your lips to his. It felt like fireworks were exploding inside your mind for a moment, though you weren’t sure if that was because of the kiss or because of the alcohol. Either way, it was quite possibly one of the most magical moments of your life.

After a few seconds, the kiss broke. Spencer pulled away first, but he seemed almost reluctant to do so, “I… That was…”

“That was amazing!” you finished his sentence for him, “I want to do it again. Can we do it again?”

That got a real laugh out of Spencer, “I think we’ll wait until you’re sober before we do that again,” he gently took your arm and began helping you up the stairs, “Come on. You need to sleep. You’re going to have the worst hangover in the world tomorrow.”

You whined at that, “No, I hate hangovers,” your whining was interrupted when you tripped on the stairs. You would’ve face planted had Spencer not caught you, “Ow. Who put that there?”

~

“Oh my God,” you slumped so far into the sofa cushions that it was a wonder you hadn’t sunk into them, “Spence, I…” you glanced at him through your fingers, “I am so sorry. I…”

“No, no. Don’t be sorry,” Spencer quickly reassured you, and he placed a hand on your shoulder in an attempt to try and ease the nerves that were creeping through in your tone, “You don’t have to apologise. I… I didn’t mind, actually.”

Your hands dropped from your face, and you stared at him, “You didn’t?”

Sure, you’d fancied the pants off of Spencer from the moment you’d walked into the BAU on your very first day. The only reason you never actually said anything was so that you didn’t ruin the friendship the two of you had. You weren’t sure if you were ready to kiss or kill your drunk self for getting you into this situation.

“I kissed you.”

“I know you did.”

“And you kissed me.”

“Oh, so we’ve got two geniuses at the BAU, apparently.”

You swatted his arm, though there was no use pretending to be annoyed when the goofiest grin was taking over your face by the second, “I can’t believe I asked you to kiss me, and I can’t believe you actually chose to kiss me.”

Spencer let out a soft laugh, “Yeah, well, you were pretty insistent,” he rubbed his shoulder, “I’m pretty sure I still have that bruise from where you shoved me against the door and demanded I kiss you again.”

You groaned in a mix of embarrassment and frustration, and you whacked him with the damp towel around your shoulders, “I hate you.”

“Your drunk self says otherwise,” he laughed and deflected the towel, and then he quickly grabbed your hand. That gesture in itself shocked you. You’d never seen Spencer be any type of forward before, “Actually, if you hadn’t had lost all of your inhibitions that night, I don’t think we’d have ever kissed.”

You don’t miss the way your fingers immediately interlace with Spencer’s. It happens so quickly that it’s almost like a natural reaction for the two of you, “Yeah, I guess we wouldn’t have,” you squeezed his hand, and you gave him a smile, “So, does this mean we can actually kiss while I’m sober, this time?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” Spencer’s voice dropped to a whisper, and he scooted a little closer to you so that your knees were touching, “I’m glad you’ll actually remember this one.”

You giggled at that comment. You sounded as if you were on cloud nine. You felt it, too, “Yeah. I’ll definitely remember.”

As Spencer gently pressed his lips to yours in a kiss so sweet and so obviously full of affection, those same fireworks that you’d felt a few nights ago came rushing back. They definitely weren’t because of the alcohol.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader

[phoneduk]

I love Reverse Robins Au but I feel like a lot of people interpret it as reverse roles Au rather than how I interpret it Reverse Age au.

Here's how I see it:

Damian:

Is dropped off with Bruce at age 8 - violent assassin child who meets tired goth Bruce who's not quite used to being batman yet and is nowhere near equipped enough to raise a child but he's damned if he's not gonna try his hardest.

It's a bit of a mission at first trying to curb the violent tendencies and raise a whole antisocial person (and wow, he admires Alfred so much more now). He almost quits Batman for a bit until he figures out that making Damian his sidekick might be a good outlet for him.

Duke

Bruce is out on patrol with Damian when he finds a little boy who's parents are out of commission and is too stubborn to believe that the Bat would actually help him.

Damian hates that he's not an only child anymore but eventually warms up to the idea when he realises they can team up against Bruce and that they are not in competition.

When Bruce finds out that Duke is a meta he wants to flinch back and send him away, but he doesn't, partially because he loves Duke so much the idea of losing him so quickly repulsed him and partially because Damian pulled a sword on him at the idea.

Tim:

Roughly 9 years after Damian is taken in Bruce, Damian and Duke are approached by a small boy saying he knows who they are and wants to join them. Bruce refuses but Damian spots the opportunity to have someone else be Batman's sidekick whilst he can become a hero in his own right.

Damian starts following Tim around and looking out for him and then he realises that Tim is being neglected and come on he can't just leave Tim there so he brings him home and Bruce can't really argue against that.

Two months later Batman has a new sidekick and Gotham has a new lone hero.

Cass

They only notice her because she wants them to and absolutely no one questions it when she's bought home. All three boys had wanted a sister at some point and none of them cared about her past or her speech.

Jason:

Tim's a teenager now has almost finished highschool when Bruce goes out one night with the batmobile and comes back to where he parked it find a kid stealing the tires. Bruce can sense that Tim is going to inevitably leave him as well so what better time to take in a new kid when he also will need a sidekick soon.

The decision hurts Tim more than anything else because he's being replaced and he's not ready to be on his own even though he's never been more ready.

Jason grows quicker than either of his other two boys and he's more determined than either of them to right the wrongs of Gotham. That determination was what led him to Ethiopia where his the joker killed him.

Dick

Bruce was at the circus at Alfred's suggestion, something to distract him from the empty seat at the table where his youngest should be. It's at the circus where he sees the trapeze line fail and he can't stop himself from reaching out to the falling artists. It hurts him to take in another child so soon after losing Jason but the thought of that tiny boy who saw his parents die going into Juvie almost kills him.

Dick brings joy into the manor that hadn't been known since Bruce was a boy and everyone in the family falls in love with him.

When the Red hood emerges, angry at his older siblings for not protecting him and wanting to kill Dick they're all a worrying amount of relieved and angry. Surprisingly it's Dick that manages to get him to come back to the family.

#batman #dick grayson #bruce wayne #dc #jason todd #batfamily #dc comics #tim drake #batfam #cassandra cain #damian wayne #damian al ghul #flying graysons #reverse robins #fanfiction #the batman

[polarisjisung]

MAKEUP, MAKE OUT

synopsis: somewhere between testing eyeshadow palettes and mascara wands, renjun tests the prospect of loving you

wc: 1k

pairings: best friend!renjun × fem!reader

genre: fluff

warnings: none (I hope)

notes: not proofread so there's bound to be some typos

As renjun finds you positioned between his legs, tapping a light brown shade of shimmer over his eyelids, he can't help but wonder how he'd explain the situation should anybody walk in.

How could he explain the fact that his best friend was quite literally seated on his bed straddling him, so close that from any other perspective you'd look at least half way into a heated makeout session, perhaps something more.

Your hot breath fanning his neck, and his own two eyes helplessly trailing over your soft features, he couldn't bring himself to look away. Each and every time he'd find his gaze falling upon your lips, a deep shade of pink. He wanted to kiss you, he realises.

Best friends didn't do that.

Renjun wonders why the thought even comes into mind or why today was the day, despite your countless other attempts at getting him to agree to let you do his makeup, that he'd said yes.

Though he doesn't have to search particularly far for the answer when you tell him to keep still for the nth time

"stay still jun, ugh, nana would've been a much more compliant client"

Renjun could barely stand the thought of you looking jaemin's way, let alone being half as close as you were with him right now, with those long lashes of na jaemin's, that girls would always fawn over, fluttering so prettily in front of you.

"nana huh" he scoffs, great, you're on a nickname basis now

"so moody" you roll your eyes, somehow still smiling down at the boy who wore a frown on his lips, "you're lucky you look pretty" you laugh.

Your laugh is loud, not in an obnoxious sort of way, but in an unapologetically you sort of way, that renjun loved to hear, knowing you opted for softer, quieter and nowhere near as genuine laughs in public. Some part of him glad that this was a laugh only reserved for him.

"you're saying I need makeup to look pretty?" renjun wonders if you can notice the pink creeping up across his face and spreading over his cheeks, hoping you'd think it was simply the blush you had applied a little earlier.

"of course not, I think you're the prettiest right when you wake up" you don't mean to let it slip, a small piece of information you would've liked to think he could have lived without knowing, softly patting the powder against his skin.

"well I think you're pretty all the time" his lips turn upwards slightly, his hands finding your waist "my pretty girl"

you barely seem to notice as he whispers under his breath, too focused on deciding which lips colour would suit him best, the slight crinkle of your brows no less than adorable

Like every best friend had, he'd thought of the possibility of more, with great consideration.

He'd thought about how walking around with your fingers intertwined rather than an arm lazily thrown over your shoulder might've felt, how introducing you as his girlfriend instead of a girl friend could make his heart leap out of his chest and perhaps most importantly how the thought of seeing you with someone else had him balling up his fists and grinding his own teeth against each other.

He knew he liked you, it hadn't been hard to admit to himself, but somehow it didn't seem so easy with you.

"renjun?" you call for the nth time, "which one do you think is better?" you alternate between the two tubes of liquid lipstick, "one or two?" but yet again, renjun seems to be in his own world, eyes glued onto you and yet somehow he's not listening to you at all.

"jun, you're staring" you wave an arm in front of him

he wonders where he'd given up trying to hide how he felt for you, a lazy smirk lining his lips,

"I am" this time, pulling you closer by the belt loops of your jeans, so your chest is flush against his "my pretty girl"

you hum, reaching for a soft brown lip liner

"what are we?" he asks before you can connect the pencil to his lips, shiny eyes causing your breath to catch in your throat

"best friends"

and for the first time ever, renjun finds himself absolutely loathing the confident tone of your voice. How after all these intimate moments, and far too many not so best friend like thoughts did you not see a thing

"have you ever thought about more?" you're scared to nod, but your head moves faster than you can let out the word no and suddenly it seems honesty is the best policy

"I don't think we've been just best friends for a while now" renjun smiles as the words fall from your lips, music to his ears

"then let me ask you again, what are we?"

"you know what we are jun" your voice is softer than before, an airiness to it that renjun finds himself basking in the warmth of.

"I want— no I need you to say it" his voice has reduced to whispers now, lips centimetres apart

"what if I showed you instead"

his thumb traced over you bottom lip, a soft "okay" muttered under his breath as his hands reached up to cup your face, your lips pressed against his in an instant.

he smiles against your lips, another kiss pressed to your lips before he forces himself back.

"you have no idea how much I've been waiting for this moment" he begins to pepper soft kisses across your face, finally leaning in again, this time taking your bottom lip between his teeth.

You wouldn't dare let him pull away, your breaths deep and rushed as you find your fingers tangled in his soft brown hair, strawberry lips perfectly locked with your own.

but when you do take a moment to breathe, your eyes land on a starry-eyed huang renjun staring up at you, looking like the prettiest mess you'd ever seen.

#nct dream #nct dream x y/n #nct dream x oc #nct dream x you #nct dream x reader #nct dream renjun #nct x female reader #nct x y/n #nct x you #nct x oc #nct x reader #renjun x reader #renjun x y/n #renjun x you #nct renjun #huang renjun #nct imagines #nct dream imagines #renjun fluff #renjun

[plmp0]

The Nerd

Summary: Jake moved to your school because of his parents work, and you couldn't help but think how a nerd like him would fuck so u made that ur challenge.

Warnings: Nerd!Jake, kinda mean Jake, kinda switch Jake, pervet!reader, kinda uncomfortable, reader is so pushy (whatever that means), public touching, manipulative!reader, hair pulling, spanking, rough!fucking, p in v, unprotected sex (please protect), squirting, fingering, i think that's it.

A/N: Again this was an old draft so sorry if the quality is not the best,i tried to edit some stuff but it's 3 am right now so idk what i was doing 💀, also there might be some typos sorry for that. And finally just note that english is not my first language but yeah enjoy ~~ (also i just realised how long this is)

Jake has been always the top of his class, most of his time is around his books, not having a single friend because for him that means wasting time. So it was quite surprising when his parents decided to move to a new house, and in the middle of the school semester, no less. He didn't like that at all.But when he arrived in his new home, Jake didn't feel so bad anymore. It was a really big house, almost as big as his old school, and with the biggest library he'd ever seen, even bigger than the town's. Not having to worry about leaving his friends was also one of the things that didn't let him have ones, they have to move a lot because of his dad's work so things weren't adding up anyways.

It was Jake's first day in this new school, spending the whole night studying to catch up to their pace and also to maintain his top student image, he went to the asigned classroom. As he expected, no one knew who he was, everyone looked at him weirdly and a boy with glasses even whispered to the person next to him that he "looked like a nerd".He sat down and waited for the class to start, the teacher arrived a few minutes later and greeted the students before calling the attention to the new student. "Everyone, please, give a warm welcome to our new student, Jake. Now, I don't want anyone disturbing his studies, if you do I will make sure the principal knows." the teacher said, giving a stern look at some boys in the back, one of them was the same one who had made fun of Jake's appearance.The boys in the back, as if sensing their teacher's glare, tried to look as innocent as possible. Some of the other kids were talking about the new student while the rest were too focused on their phones or books. Jake nontheless ignored and filtered any meaningless noise, focusing on the class instead. "Alright, now, open your books on page 249. Y/n, you can read until page 270, then we will move on to the next chapter." The teacher said, making Jake shift his attention to you.

You nodded, but Jake was sure you hadn't heard the teacher, as your eyes were glued to the phone, scrolling through something. You didn't even try to look like you were reading, and when the teacher noticed this she went over and took the phone away from you, Jake shaked his head unimpressed not liking that you made him waste a full 10 minutes. You tried to convince her to give it back, but the teacher, Mrs. Smith, didn't relent and kept it until the end of class. Jake tried to focus again on the class, but his mind was somewhere else, you not shutting up talking loud enough as if u were sitting next to him, he huffed turning around to face you and giving you a cold glare, making you stop and shiver, not saying anything else but finding interest on him, you've always liked nerds. He sighed, relieved, and continued to pay attention to the class, writing down everything he was supposed to and more. Once class ended, everyone left except you, Jake and Mrs. Smith, who wanted to speak to him about some important things, as well as talk to him about his grades and how he would fit into the class. You stood up and stretched, yawning before heading towards the teacher to get ur phone back, not caring much for what the two were discussing, "Oh, Mrs. Smith, do you happen to have my phone? You took it earlier and I just want to go to my next class." You said, trying to sound as polite as possible to avoid getting scolded, you didn't care that much but the principal had told you to behave.

"Oh, yes. Here you go. But next time please try not to use it during class, or else I'll have to take it away again, alright?" She handed you the phone, you quickly nodded and thanked her, turning on the phone and walking away rolling your eyes. "Oh, and before I forget, here are the things that are new to the semester. Jake, I'm sure you'll do great." She handed him a folder full of papers, which he took, thanked her and left. He went over the papers as he walked, not paying much attention to where he was going, but making sure to read every line, his eyes were so focused on the paper that he didn't even notice you. "Hey, watch out." But you didn't, instead, the two of you bumped into each other, dropping the papers and Jake huffed losing the spot he was reading. You fell, not being able to catch yourself because your hands were holding the phone, you scoffed annoyed. "What the fuck, watch where you're going." "Says the one who didn't watch their step, dumbass." Jake mumbled, picking the papers. "What was that?" You asked, not quite hearing him, and not happy about being called a dumbass.

Jake turned to face you, giving you a stern look while collecting his papers not wanting to drag this convo any longer. You were about to argue back when you noticed the papers he was collecting, and how much there was. You got curious, how could this nerd get so much extra credit on the first day? "Hey, let me see." You took the papers away from him, skimming through them. "Are you serious?" U exclaimed,"Hey, give it back. And watch your tone, it's very rude." Jake glared at you. "Why should I?" You smirked. "What are you gonna do about it? Tell on me? Go ahead." You said mockingly, Jake massaged his forehead annoyed and grabbed the papers, pulling them from you, making you stumble and drop the phone again, "Hey!" You yelled, looking at your phone. "Do you have any idea how expensive that was?!" "Then be more careful with it, maybe then it won't fall" Jake shrugged, fixing the papers and putting them in his backpack, you rolled your eyes and picked up your phone checking it and you huffed relieved seeing that it didn't break. U bit ur lips this new student is really getting into ur nerves, but you had a better way to deal with him. "Whatever, loser." You turned around and left, not wanting to get in trouble on the first day.

Jake chuckled a little bit as u left, "what a great first day" he mumbled with sarcasm in his tone, heading to his next class but he stopped mid-way, he was so focused on what had happened that he didn't realize how lost he was, not having any idea of where he had to go and now his late for class, great. He spent a long time looking for class that now he has arrived late, sighing relieved when he finds the door open and walks in. "Sorry for arriving late, sir. I'm the new student, Jake." "Don't worry about it. Go ahead and take a seat. You're in the back." the teacher said, and Jake nodded, walking towards the back and sitting down trying to ignore the fact that u were his seatmate as you were already sleeping or that's what he thought, the teacher didn't even stop to breath in the passing 30 minutes making everyone yawn well everyone appart from Jake, he was busy writing when he let a very loud gasp making everyone look at him questionably, he excused himself feeling embarrassed as he felt your hand  wondering in his thighs above his jeans, his mind was racing and he wasn't able to focus at all, he looked at you and noticed the smirk on your lips as u rested ur head on the table,

oh that was not good. The teacher didn't say anything and continued the lesson, but Jake couldn't focus anymore. He couldn't believe this, he never let anything shift his attention before neither was he touched this way by a girl in a fucking classroom. He shifted on his chair, trying to move away from you, but that only caused your hand to travel higher, making his face flush and you grin liking the reaction u got from him, ur grin got bigger when u felt his bulge on ur hand. Jake felt a chill go down his spine, he was not enjoying this at all, why would he? This was just distracting, and he wanted to stay focused that's what he tried to convince himself but the fact that he stopped getting away from you made you continue ur movements, you caressed his thigh through the fabric, and then moved on to his bulge, squeezing it gently and rubbing him.

He gasped and tensed up, closing his eyes and trying not to move. He bit his lips as the sensation was getting stronger, and soon his cock was rock hard, throbbing under your touch, Jake was so new to this feeling he was going crazy, you smirked as u felt his member twitch, you looked at him and could see the embarrassment in his face, u leaned on him and whispered quietly "You're enjoying this, aren't you? Naughty boy." you teased, licking his ear. Jake bit his lips and moved his head, trying to get away from you, he was so scared that someone is gonna see the both of u, and seconds later the entire class was staring at him wondering what's wrong when he hitted his knee on the table while trying to squirm. He didn't know what to do, this was kinda embarrassing but it feels so good, and he didn't want it to stop, he opened his mouth to ask what you were doing, but when he felt your hand squeeze him, he gasped and couldn't hold back a moan, causing him to cover his mouth. He was redder than a tomato, and he couldn't look at the teacher or the other students afraid to get caught, you continued, enjoying his reactions, and the fact that everyone was focused on their things. It was obvious that Jake wasn't getting away, and that was fine with you. He was hard and throbbing, and his precum had leaked, creating a small dark stain on his jeans. Jake bit his lip and tried to muffle his moans, but you didn't want him to almost punishing him for what he did previously, you squeezed him again, rubbing his length. "You're so hard, Jake. I didn't think you would like this. You're so naughty~" you whispered.

Jake whined and closed his eyes, shaking his head, not wanting to admit that neither to hear it now it was hard enough from his to muffle his sounds, but it was true, he did like this. And the fact that he was hard as a rock proved it if only he didn't have to be in a space full of people he'd acted differently. He was getting close you could feel it as he was breathing heavily  his eyes were tightly shut, his hips were moving with your hand and you thanked god that u were sitting at the end of the class or the teacher would have seen everything, you sped up your movements and that's when Jake lost it, his body tensed up and his hips buckled, he groaned as quietly as he could before releasing his load on his jeans, making a small wet spot. You grinned, stopping your movements and moving away from him. Jake opened his eyes and looked at his pants, noticing the stain, and realizing what just happened, he looked around, seeing everyone staring at him, the teacher was waiting for him to answer a question, and the rest were looking at his flushed form face confused. He gulped and cleared his throat, looking at the teacher, not knowing what the question was.

"Are you okay, Jake? Are you feeling sick?" The teacher asked. "N-no... Sorry, I'm okay..." Jake said. "I would like to believe you, but, I'll let it pass since it's your first day. U should focus or u wont catch up, understood?" , "Yes, sir..." Jake nodded. "Good. Now, can anyone tell me the answer to the question?" The teacher looked around, waiting for someone to answer. "Uh... Y/n." The teacher looked at you. "Yes, sir. 54." You said, knowing the answer and not caring enough about this class. "Correct. Thank you, Y/n. Now, let's move on." The teacher turned around and started writing on the board. Jake felt relieved that he got out of this situation without getting caught, but now he had to deal with the mess you made, his jeans were ruined and he turned to look at you, seeing the mischievous smile on your face. He knew you weren't gonna leave him alone. He sighed and looked away, trying not to think about it and focus on class. But he couldn't. For the rest of the class, Jake couldn't focus, and his thoughts kept going back to you, and what had happened. His cheeks were pink, and his dick was still hard, the cum stain on his jeans didn't go away, and every time he moved, he felt it rub against him.

Once the class ended, Jake gathered his things and left as fast as he could, not wanting to see anyone, or get more attention. He rushed out of the classroom and walked quickly, heading towards the bathroom. He needed to change and get out of this, it was too much for him, he got to the bathroom taking care of the mess and removing his jacket tacking it around his waist while getting his dresshirt out of his pants hoping that i'll hide something before getting out of the bathroom, he sighed trying to calm down as he felt a hand on his shoulder "Hey, nerd. Wait." It was you, smirking. Jake turned around, facing you, his face still a little flushed from earlier and his body tensed upon seeing you, "Y-yes?" Jake asked his words getting out more broken than he anticipated,

he cleared his throat waiting for you to speak, u scanned him the grin never leaving ur lips " looks like you took care of yourself already" u whined disapointed "too bad i wanted to help you" "Wdym?" he cleared his throat again fixing his hair as he felt some sweat forming at the end of his forehead "no need to do that" he mumbled looking at you giving him your puppy eyes, he shifted his eyes to look elsewhere just wanting to go home at this rate feeling tired already but there was no way u'd give up, you really wanted him to lose it so curious to see what he'd do. "But, Jake... You looked so cute when you were enjoying yourself..." You purred, putting a hand on his chest. "I wanted to make you feel good..." he furrowed his eyebrows not loving how you are adressing him "s-stop" his voice was breaking, he didn't know what was going on but he didn't like this. "Aww, come on, Jake... Just admit it... You liked it... And I'm sure you would love it if I continued..." You smiled, and moved your hand down, resting it on his lower stomach. "Stop, we are still in school!" He exclaimed, his voice slightly louder. "Oh, come on, Jake... There's no one here..." You grinned, pressing your palm against his crotch. Jake bit his lips, holding back a moan and his eyes widened when he felt your hand press against him.

His pants were too tight, and he was already half hard. You didn't know how or when but you felt ur back pressed on the wall Jake leaning to face you as his lips were inches away from your ear "I get that you want to be fucked soo badly but i have things to do" Jake whispered you moaned feeling him suck on your earlobe before he left leaving you hot and confused, a smirk formed at your lips licking them "ahhh m gonna have so much fun" u mumbled adjusting ur clothes and heading to meet one of your friends from the other class. After the incident with you, Jake avoided you as much as he could. But that didn't stop you from teasing him, and he always had an excuse not to interact with you, or anyone else, really. He focused on his studies more than the normal days trying to distract himself from you, he was starting to get really frasturated by all of your teasing. You on the other hand were getting annoyed, you had tried so many times to get close to him, or just talk to him, but he always had an excuse to brush you off, and he always seemed so busy. You knew he was trying to avoid you, and you were determined to make him give in taking it as a challenge at that point.

One day, during class, the teacher decided to choose randomly two people for next week's project and to ur luck Jake was paired up with you for the presentation and you couldn't be happier. He wasn't too happy about it that's what you noticed but he had no choice, and the teacher said the two of you would have to meet outside of class. That's when the fun began. Jake was sure that he was screwed. You had him trapped.You were gonna make him lose his control, and there was no way out of it. It was the day you r supposed to meet up for your project, Jake suggested going to a cafe nearby the school but you being your stubborn self insisted to meet up in ur house saying that it'd be better and calmer and blah blah blah, Jake couldn't help it but agree after his failed attempts. He was standing in front of your door inhaling deeply before knocking a few times, you were quick to open the door smiling at him and welcoming him in.

He was surprised when he saw ur outfit, your small shorts not leaving anything for imagination, ur blue crop top hugging ur breasts perfectly, he clicked his tongue rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly when you told him to sit in the living room and you went to get some water, coming back quickly and sitting next to him body stuck to his with the glass in ur hands. "So" Jake started wanting to start with the project and leave quickly "we should start, what's the theme?" He asked looking through his backpack and taking out a notebook and a pencil, u rolled ur eyes at his words "come on, Jakey, you know we don't have to do this right now." u said handing him the glass of water which he accepted "it's not healthy for you to be always studying, let's take a break." "We need to get this done, Y/n." He said sternly, sipping the water. "We can't waste time. So, what's the theme?" "The theme is... The importance of a good education." You smiled, remembering the topic that you picked out. "Seriously?" Jake said mockingly knowing very well how u r always sleeping during classes or just on your phone. "Yeah, seriously." You smiled, taking the glass from his hands and setting it on the table. "Don't worry. I'm not stupid." "I know." He said, and before you could say anything else, he pulled out his phone. "Let's start, shall we?"

"Sure, Jake." You smiled, and started explaining your ideas for the project, and the two of you started working. Jake didn't like that you kept distracting him flashing ur cleavage every now and then but he couldn't say anything cause you were being very professional. He didn't think it was possible, but you were doing a really good job. Maybe this wasn't so bad. You noticed his reaction and you couldn't help but smirk a little, you knew he was gonna lose it and soon. The two of you worked for a couple hours, and by the time it was over, Jake was exhausted. He was glad you were smart enough to not screw this up, but he was still suspicious. You had been nothing but nice the whole time, and it was a bit out of ordinary.You stretched and smiled. "That was a good session, huh?" "Yeah. I'm glad we were able to get some work done." Jake said, packing his stuff. "Yeah. Me too." You smiled, and stood up. "I'm gonna get some snacks, I'll be right back." Jake nodded and waited for you. You came back a few minutes later, carrying a tray of fruit, cookies, and drinks. You set the tray on the coffee table and sat next to him, Jake had some cookies eyes not leaving his phone for a couple of minutes before speaking "Alright, I think we should stop here." , "Oh, why?" You asked, tilting your head. "Because we're finished." Jake said, closing his notebook. "We're not done yet." You pouted. "I wanna hang out a bit." "Hang out? With me?" Jake asked raising one of his eyebrows, "Why not?" You shrugged. "Well, we have nothing in common." Jake said, standing up. "Besides, I have a lot of work to do. And so do you." "Aw, come on, Jakey." You pouted, wrapping your arms around his torso and pulling him down onto the couch. "We have plenty of time." "No, we don't." Jake said removing ur hands from his body, but you were faster as u landed one of them on his crotch making him gasp loudly.

"W-what are you doing?", "What's wrong, Jake? It's just a hand." You smiled, squeezing his crotch. Jake exhaled his eyes fierceful as he looked u down tongue clicking, one of his hands sliding his hair up "you are really a slut ha" "Only for you, Jakey~" You purred, stroking his growing erection. Jake groaned and bit his lip. "Stop i don't think you'll be able to handle what's coming!" Jake warned, his tone more stern. "I'll take my chances." You grinned, continuing rubbing him over his pants, Jake growled and grabbed your arm, pulling it away and pinning it to the couch. "You really don't get it, do you? This is the only chance you're gonna get." He growled, tightening his grip on your arm. You winced a little at the pain and bit your lip. "Sorry. I'll behave. Promise just give it to me" you said pouting a bit. "Woah" Jake chuckled lowly, "someone is being a needy slut today." He said having enough from restraining himself his frustration takkng over him, and you moaned loving his choice of words,"Please, Jake. Please. I'm sorry. I'll do whatever you want, anything please" You begged. "Anything? (He paused for a second) but again it's not a surprise after seeing how hard you tried to get to my dick" He hummed licking ur lips slowly. "Yes. Anything. Just fuck me." You begged, and Jake leaned down, kissing you roughly. You moaned, enjoying the kiss, and wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. He continued kissing you hungrily, his hands exploring your body.

He broke the kiss, and pulled back, staring at you, his eyes moved to your boobs who were almost exposed because of this position, the blue complementing your skin and making him lick his lips constantly, he has never really went with a girl above kissing and touching here and there however he watched enough content to know what to do, his hand groped one of ur breast squeezing it roughly his nails digging on the fabric as u moaned loudly. "You're so beautiful, Y/n." Jake whispered, his soft tone contradicting his rough touches, "T-thank you." You said, blushing a little , he smiled seeing how calm you are now that you are getting what u want, he pulled the strap of ur crop top down exposing your breast the sight making him gulp as he massaged the other one he neglected earlier, his other hand moving down to cup your pussy through your shorts making you moan and squirm. He groaned as he felt your wetness through the fabric "Fuck, you're so wet, Y/n." Jake grinned, "Soaking." "J-Jake..." You moaned, arching your back, grinding against his hand. "Shh, isn't that what you wanted? So shut up and enjoy it"he smirked, leaning to deliver kisses on ur neck. He kept rubbing your pussy through ur shorts and you couldn't help but whine wanting to feel him against ur bare skin. He pulled his hand away and looked at you. "You want more, Y/n?" He asked, smirking. You nodded, your chest heaving and your eyes wide. "Then take them off." Jake said. "Your shorts." You gulped, and stood up, pushing your shorts down, and taking them off, tossing them aside.

Jake sat on the couch manspreading a bit and patting his lap, u followed his order and sat on his lap grinding your pussy against his hard member while he cupped ur ass, his hands running over the soft skin, he leaned down and placed his lips on your nipple sucking on it making u throw your head back moaning and grinding ur pussy harder against him. You grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head, tossing it aside and running your hands over his chest. Jake groaned and moved his hands down, hooking his thumbs on the waistband of your panties, pulling them down, you raised your hips, helping him as he pulled them down, tossing them away. His hand went back to cup your pussy, and he moaned feeling the wetness. "God, you're soaked." Jake groaned, running two of his fingers on ur slit, spreading the juices and making you moan loudly, Jake grinned as u were already a mess, and he has just started. "So fucking wet. Just for me." Jake hummed, his fingers playing with your clit, the pleasure making your body jerk. Jake felt his hands act on themselves, his index finger teasing ur entrance making u buckle ur hips, "I'm not gonna do anything if u don't behave, y/n" he growled,

his fingers going to rub your clit roughly, his eyes were focused on ur reaction and you didn't have to try to put up an act, your body was shaking eyes rolling back. You nodded and closed your eyes, biting your lip and trying to stay still, even though all you wanted was to grind your pussy on his fingers, he lifted his free hand spanking ur ass hard making u gasp, your body jerked a bit and Jake rubbed the spot he had spanked, "Good girl." He purred his finger went to tease ur hole once again. He slowly pushed his finger inside, his cock twitching at the feeling of your tight walls. He has only seen a pussy on videos and nothing could compare to the feeling of the real thing, he pushed his finger deeper and moved it in and out slowly, feeling you clench around him. He moved his finger a bit deeper, looking at ur expressions mouth gaped eyes long gone and he grinned. adding another digit and moving it at the same pace, he lifted u a little curling his finger inside you, hitting a sweet spot. "Feels good, huh?" Jake asked and you nodded, moaning loudly, and he spanked you again. "Words." He growled. You gasped, and let a small cry. "Y-yes! It feels so good, Jake!" Jake grinned, and kept moving his finger, hitting that same spot every time. Your body jerked and he noticed how close you were, "you were acting up just a few days ago and look at you now, where did that attitude go ha?" He chuckled when u didn't answer him his fingers reaching deeper making u spasm on his lap,

"Come on, cum for me. Let go." He groaned, his voice husky, and a few seconds later, your pussy clenched around his finger, and you let out a loud moan as you came, squirting all of your juices on his pants, Jake groaned feeling the warmness of ur juices land on his cock, ur body still shaking as he was still moving his fingers inside you, he pulled out groaning at ur attempt to keep him in by squeezing him tightly, his cock throbbing inside his pants as he licked his fingers clean tasting u making you squirm and he gave them to u, you licked them and moaned at the taste, his free hand moved down cupping ur ass before he spanked u again, you moaned loudly and looked at him, "You want me to fuck you, right?" He asked, and you nodded eagerly. "Please." You begged. "You've been such a good girl for me so far, so I'll give it to you." He kissed ur jaw talking over ur skin "but i'll have to punish you for what you did these passing days" he mumbled making u shiver a bit, his hand squeezed ur ass roughly. "Now get up, i'm gonna bend you over the table and fuck your slutty little pussy" he said patting ur core and you whined, but did as he told u, getting up and bending over the table, spreading your legs for him, he groaned at ur eagerness and quickly unbuttoned his pants pulling them down along with his underwear, his cock finally springing free, you looked behind you and bit your lip seeing his length, "wow, you're big." You mumbled. He smirked and leaned over, his body pressing against yours, his lips near your ear. "I'm gonna make sure to make you scream, and never think about going around whoring for nerds again" He whispered, making you whimper, his hands grabbed your ass, giving it a few squeezes, he rubbed his cock on your pussy, making you moan and squirm. "So impatient. Behave." He growled slapping ur inner thighs and steadying u in place

"Sorry" u mumbled trying to stop yourself, Jake smirked and rubbed the tip of his cock against ur clit, making you whine and bite your lip, you felt like you were gonna explode, the teasing was driving you crazy. His hips rolled and his tip poked ur entrance, you moaned and arched your back, trying to take his length inside, he spanked you again making you yelp and he held you down, "i'm the one in charge here, not you" he growled and you nodded, letting out a breathy moan, he pulled back and slapped his cock against your clit a couple times making u shake, the sensation driving u mad and before u could complain his length entered u, the tip slowly entering u and stretching your tight walls making you cry out, "fuck you're tight." Jake groaned, feeling the warmth and wetness of your pussy wrapped around him, the pleasure was almost unbearable, his hand went to massage your ass and squeeze it a few times, his other hand gripping your hip tightly, nails digging into the skin, his eyes were focused on where his cock met your pussy and how he disappeared inside of you. He pushed himself deeper and pulled out slowly, the drag of his length inside you was incredible, you moaned and gripped the edge of the table, your body trembling as he kept thrusting into you, his cock filling you completely. Jake's hand traveled up, his palm resting between your shoulder blades and applying pressure, making your cheek rest against the table. He pulled out and slammed back into you, his balls slapping against you and you let out a loud moan, the feeling was overwhelming.

You felt his fingers grab your hair, pulling you up and his lips were on yours in a matter of seconds, his tongue invading your mouth, the kiss was sloppy yet intense, his thrusts were getting faster, his tongue moving in and out of your mouth, tasting every inch of it. You broke the kiss and let a loud moan, feeling him brush at ur spot, his hand was gripping the hair at the back of your head, his nails digging into the skin and he was panting, his breath fanning your cheek, he closed his eyes enjoying the feeling of ur walls around him, Jake was scared that he'd become addicted to ur pussy the thought of getting out of you was already not clicking with him, his other hand grabbed your hip and he started slamming into you harder, his cock hitting that same spot again, making you scream in pleasure. He groaned, feeling his orgasm building up, his movements became sloppy and his hips stuttered "Fuck, look at u now, taking my cock so well" Jake said, his words coming out in a mix of moans and groans, he let out a low groan and threw his head back, his hips snapping into you a couple more times and he buried himself deep inside of you, cumming and filling your pussy, you moaned at the feeling of his cum filling you and painting your walls white, your legs trembled and you let out a loud moan as your body jerked, reaching your orgasm and squirting all over his cock, your walls tightening around him, milking him. "Fuck" Jake groaned, his hands leaving your hair and hips, his palms resting on the table as he leaned forward, panting heavily, his chest pressed against your back. He was sweating his skin hot. 

Jake's cock slipped out of you and he let a small groan. His eyes focused on your pussy and how your juices were mixed with his cum, and the sight alone made him hard again, he grabbed your legs and spread them, making you whine. His other hand stroked his cock and he guided his tip to your pussy, pushing his cock inside making you whine "J-Jake, what are you doing? I'm sensitive." You mumbled, your voice tired. "We're not done yet, baby. I need to teach you a lesson." Jake growled, his hands going to rest on your hips squeezing them, he started thrusting into you roughly, not giving you time to adjust and his hips snapped into you, his balls slapping against your clit, you were a mess, moaning and whimpering, begging for him to stop. Jake growled and bent down, his face next to yours. "I warned you before but u didn't listen. So shut up and take it." He growled, and his hand went to slap your ass, his fingers digging into the flesh. Your body was trembling and the feeling of his cock pounding into you was amazing, it felt so good!

tbh u didn't imagine him to go this hard on you and ohh god how you love it, no one has ever fucked you this good. The sound of his skin slapping against yours and the lewd sounds of his cock entering you filled the room you were a mess, ur hair sticking on ur face, juices mixed with his cum dripping from your pussy messing up the table. Jake groaned, his breathing uneven and his hips stuttered. He was close again, and so were you. "Cum for me, Y/n." Jake groaned, his thrusts were getting faster, he was losing his rhythm eyes closed biting his lower lip until he couldn't hold it anymore, his hand reached ur clit rubbing it fastly making u whimper "OmG" u rolled ur eyes ur release hitting u like a truck and with a couple of hard thrusts he followed u, cumming inside of you, his cum mixing with the previous one, his hips kept rolling, riding out his high, the feeling was intense, his cock twitched and he pulled out, collapsing on the couch, panting heavily. "Holy shit." You mumbled, trying to catch your breath. Jake nodded, running a hand through his hair.

The two of you were quiet for a few minutes, then Jake got up, helping u getting up too and bringing u to the bathroom. "I'll clean the table." Jake said, leaving and coming back with some wet wipes, he cleaned the table looking at u wearing a robe while scanning his body "u okay?" He asked suddenly feeling nervous not knowing what to do now, u smiled and nodded, "yeah, thanks" u mumbled, he nodded back and looked away, he was wearing his boxers now looking at his pants that are full of ur juices, he sighed and grabbed them cleaning them with the wet wipes and getting dressed, u stared at him confused, "what are u doing?" You asked. "Leaving." Jake said, buttoning his shirt.

"It's getting l-late" his voice stuttered when he felt your hand helping him with his shirt, he heard his phone ringing and went to get it seeing his mom's name on the screen, "hi" his voice was low as he answered, and u could hear his mother's voice asking where is he,  he told her that he was busy with his homework and forgot to call, he was glad that his parents are never home so he wouldn't have to explain anything, he bid goodbye to his mom and hang up. "Is everything ok?" You asked, and Jake nodded. "I gotta go." Jake said, gathering his stuff. "I'll see you tomorrow." You said, and Jake nodded, giving you a small smile and leaving, making you finally drop on the floor as u couldn't feel ur legs anymore but u smiled nonetheless u had so much fun, and this will not be the last time for sure.

Woah i couldn't edit this whole thing so m gonna comeback to it after having some sleep, also this was supposed to be a virgin Jake fanfic but yeah i got carried away and forgot about that sorry

#enhypen smut #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen x reader #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #enhypen jake #enhypen jaeyun #enhypen jake sim #enhypen jake smut #enhypen jake x reader

[pearlzier]

⭒ㅤ𓈒ㅤׂ 🐾 ★

pairing : carmen berzatto x fem!reader

summary : carm is fucking flabbergasted to hear you've never had a proper valentine's day, let alone a special meal. so he has to rectify it as soon as possible.

word count : 2.28k

tags: the bear, jeremy allen white, fluff, valentine's day, carmen berzatto, carmy berzatto, established relationship, awkward carm <3, BEST MAN EVER.

a/n: got this idea from @aliaugustaa, i thought it was so cute so i just had to do it :3 who needs an irl valentines when u have ur little chef man, making sure u know u deserve the best amiright.

it all started when carmen had overheard you, syd and tina talking. he'd been in his office, trying to get some work done with the door slightly ajar, considering the air conditioning in the room was shit, when the three of you had struck up a conversation. he hadn't paid much attention to it. he occasionally tuned into the sound of your voice, of course, but the details of the words you were saying remained mostly lost on him.

until he heard the mention of ‘valentine's day’ come from tina. fuck. if he had to be honest, it'd been years since he'd last.. celebrated? valentine's day? before you, he didn't actually have any reason to do anything for it. carmen avoided the day like the plague, actually, with the bare minimum being done in terms of heart themed menu times. but even he knew that you would've been expecting a valentine's gift from him, right? you two had been dating for what, nearly a year now, so he had to think of something.

that started his panic in terms of what he was going to get you. he had no fucking clue. but what took him out even more was your words, as you leant against the counter with your notepad: “valentine's day is so overrated,” okay.. “i haven't had a valentine since i was like, fifteen, and i'm perfectly fine.”

perfectly fine.

his blue eyes darted quickly to the calendar on his desk, fixing onto ‘february 14th’ almost instantly. he can't bite back a smile at the heart you'd drawn around the date, with ‘v-day’ scrawled messily on it. but all the cuteness aside, he had.. one week. he didn't need to do anything amazing for you, no, considering you did think the holiday was overrated, however he felt there was an unsworn duty for him to prove to you that you were special, and deserved the best.

he sorted the week that he had left into phases. there were four phases, all of them intricately, messily, planned to ensure you'd have a great day. and he'd managed to do all of it right under your nose.

of the four phases, first came the easiest one. slowly easing you into the idea of valentine's day. you weren't stupid, no, you were quiet observant and god knows you would've picked up on any new behaviours from your boyfriend, so he had to try to integrate the day of love into work first.

convincing everyone to mention valentine's day, not obsessively, but repetitively to try get it into your routine wasn't difficult. it was a restaurant, for god's sake, of course they'd have some sort of valentine's menu, right?

so he got marcus to start making some particularly love themed desserts — “uh, sure. don't mind it.” you hadn't seemed to pay much attention to the ginormous order of cupid stickers out back, which worked heavily in his favour.

“yo, cousin, don't worry. she'll be walkin’ ‘round with the whole ass arrow by the time i'm done,” — richie was just as eager to get you in a lovey-dovey mood, with his passing comments about how eva was a total bachelorette and that all the kids in her class were gonna be throwing presents onto her desk.

there was no way to tell whether that was true or not. no one really asked.

“hey, cool, i'm feeling it,” — tina was also happy to help, being overly lovey with you around the restaurant. it was quite unlike her, but still, you didn't mind the affection. little hugs, forehead kisses from dear aunt tina weren't that bad.

“she's gonna realise that we're going overboard,” — syd was the most reluctant. she'd have much rather told you about what they were doing, as opposed to keeping it a secret. however carm was good at convincing her, and it was for a good cause too. so, she let it slide, pushing the valentine's agenda with little doodles of cupids or hearts on her menu designs. you liked them.

so that was phase one done. pretty simple, if carmy says so himself. and you didn't mention anything about it. perfect. he felt a little weird keeping something from you, but, of course, it was a good cause, right?

with phase one completed, he had to move onto phase two. this one was probably his second favourite of all of them. bringing valentine's into the house. valentine's day was all about love. he loves you, of course. it was the reason why he was doing all of this in the first place. so he thought the best way to do this phase was to get you in the mood.

you were very clearly confused by the romcom that was playing on the tv screen when he ushered you into the living room, but you didn't ask many questions considering how tired you were. “carm,” you began, brow furrowing, before you shrugged, moving over to settle on the couch. tilting your head over to the direction of the kitchen, your eyes found carmy bringing over the chinese takeout. it'd been a while since you two had indulged in it, but he knew full well it was your favourite. “you're the best,” his smug little smile told you a lot, but not about his little scheme and its phases.

“i know, babe,” he hums, bringing over the tray and settling it onto the coffee table. carmen shuffled over, settling onto the couch beside you, gently lifting your box onto your lap before he took his own. it wasn't unlike him to take care of you like this, but there was something more tender in how he was helping you. sweet, yes, but it was making you a tad bit suspicious. “you okay?” he asked softly, voice gentle and low, as a small little smile played on his lips.

“mhm,” you nodded, just snuggling beside him with the takeout box in your grasp. you two usually didn't watch romcoms, usually finding a good drama or sitcom however you didn't mind it. this one in particular was quite good.

and besides, carmen having his arm slung around your waist as you two ate was a perfect feeling. so despite your suspicions, you let him have this moment without asking him.

that was phase two done. not too shabby, really. richie and, actually, literally everyone in the bear was a tad bit sick of carmen's rambling about how amazing you were. they literally all knew it, since you were their colleague, but god, could this man talk.

the third phase was one that carmy realised perhaps should've come earlier. it was just getting you things that you liked, without you realising. which was harder than it sounded, considering carmen was shit at keeping things from you, and you were usually the one who looked at orders to the apartment. so he needed the help of his sister, natalie. she was so eager to help that it was a little overwhelming. “so what do they like anyway?” natalie asked as she pushed the cart beside carmen, eyes flickering over to his in curiosity. “bear?”

he was uh, stressing. he loved you so much, and—well, “god, sugar, i love her—” he ran a hand through his curls, eyes widening as soon as he saw the giant valentine's day display in the store. a quiet groan slipped past his lips and he bit his knuckles for a moment, glancing desperately over at his sister. “peach deserves the fuckin’ world, y'know? just wan’ make it special for her,” the pity, and adoration, in natalie's gaze softened her eyes immediately and she gave him a quick pat on the back.

“right,” it was her personal mission now to ensure that you and her brother had a perfect day on valentine's. she was sure of it. a small little grin played on her lips as she ushered him over to the display, and she leant against the cart. “okay, what would she like? something lovey? sentimental?”

“don't fuckin’ know,” carmen muttered under his breath, rubbing his temple as he looked over the many valentine's themed things available. holy shit, this was harder than he thought. he knew you so well and yet, what you'd like evaded him.

“okay, well,” natalie picks up a random white teddy bear, brows raising in question as she offers it to her brother. he grabs at it, squeezes it perhaps a little too hard out of frustration but slowly relaxes his tight grip on it. “okay, that one's going in.”

the shopping trip continued like this, with natalie suggesting things that she thought you might like, with carmy giving his wordless responses. it was kind of therapeutic for nat, to be fair. and carmen was getting the stuff he needed for you. he'd have to thank natalie after, considering soon after he was done with phase three, he was into the final phase. the actual valentine's gift.

this was probably his favourite part. of course, carmen was a chef by nature. so he knew a valentine's dinner was in order. he was sort of sick of hearing anything related to the saint, however he could relax with this part. he'd made sure that syd would keep you out of the apartment for at least three hours. having even gone to the lengths of giving money for you guys to spend, he was clearly working hard. he knew your palette, so well in fact, that he didn't even think twice about what he was preparing.

from what you loved to eat, to what you despised, carmen knew it all. and he wanted to spoil you in terms of what he made, so he also gave sydney strict instructions that the two of you weren't allowed to get any food. hey, he wanted you to have enough room to eat.

he'd planned everything immaculately, of course, but when he heard you and syd at the door, he almost panicked. the table was laid out perfectly, all of your favourite foods available. a flush filled his cheeks at the thoughts of richie's previous words: “shit, cousin’, you a fuckin’ simp,” rang through his head and he scratched the back of his neck nervously, sitting at the table.

“thanks, syd,” your voice called from down the hall at the door, your smile evident in your voice. it made the butterflies in his stomach flutter, and he shifted where he sat. “m'back, carm!” you were making your way down the hall now, nearing the living room where you assumed he'd be. he was not. “carm—?”

your brow furrowed, since he'd have mentioned he'd be out if he was going to be. “carm,” you hummed as you wandered into the dining room area, not looking into the room until you did, and your lips parted into an expression of shock. “holy shit.”

you're surprised you didn't burst into literal tears seeing carmen sat at the table, wide blue eyes lifting to yours from the table cloth. his cheeks were rosey, a sheepish expression adorning his lips. “fuck, this is dumb,” he got up, scratching the back of his neck once more, “i know you don't—oh, shit, peach—”

his eyes widened as you barelled into him, wrapping your arms around his frame as his hands slid over your lower back. biting his bottom lip, he lifted a hand to your face, just to see your expression. “oh my god, carm,” tears threatened to spill from your eyes, bottom lip trembling. carmen's expression only softener, and grew a tad bit guilty.

“oh, no, baby, don't cry,” his thumb stroked over your jaw, brow furrowing. carmen soon pressed a peck to your forehead, his hand cupping your lower back and bringing you into his body. “can't eat ‘n’ cry at the same time,” he soothed with a soft chuckle whilst he cradled the back of your head.

“so this is what you were doin’?” your mumbly words come all soft, watery, glossy eyes lifting up to his as you frown. you may be about to cry, sure, but it's for a good reason. “all this time? oh my god, is it because of what i said to syd and tina?”

a sheepish nod followed, his hands brushing away your tears gently. he smiled, nuzzling your nose with his own as he brushed his lips with yours, squeezing you tight against his chest. “uh-huh,” he muttered, “didn't notice earlier?”

“nuh-uh,” god, you felt kinda dumb for not realising. but also glad you didn't, since you wouldn't be as overjoyed as you are right now. you squeeze tight around his waist once more before you drag him back into sitting down. hey, you were hungry considering his little scheme. “god, carm,” you bite your bottom lip, looking over all the food. not to mention the valentine's themes decorations.

“so everyone was in on it?” you lean against the table, watching as carmen dished out your plate for you, his blue eyes lingering on the food before they lifted to yours when he heard your question. he gives a little nod, pushing your plate towards you. then, he pours you a glass of wine, all smiles. “god, that's why—oh my god!”

giddy, absolutely giddy, would describe you right now. over the fucking moon.

“and when you and nat went out? you guys never go out, holy shit,” you grabbed your fork, leaning against the table with a little smile. that smile soon became the biggest grin he'd ever seen. “babe, this is too much,” you frowned, gaze all fond.

“wait till you see the gifts,” he mumbled around a spoonful of pasta, avoiding your gaze and focusing on his plate.

“carmen!”

#carmen berzatto #the bear #the carmy brainrot prevails #carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #the bear fx #the bear x reader #the bear imagines #carmy berzatto imagine #jeremy allen white x reader #jeremy allen white #jeremy allen white imagine #jeremy allen white imagines #carmen berzatto fluff #carmen berzatto smut #carmen berzatto imagines #carmy berzatto smut #valentines day

[manicpixiefelix]

head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 5.

Summary: Reader, Oliver, and the mortifying ordeal of being known. Plus clubbing, costume parties, and Oliver being a fucking tease.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

Warnings: drinking/intoxication/drug use

A/N: 3148 words. now we're cooking with gas, folks! i might be too sleepy for a real author's note, but just know, as always, its unedited and i love you. have fun, please let me know what you think!

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

----

"Can I be bold for a minute?" On the roof of one of the dorm buildings, you and Oliver are waiting for Felix. It's twilight, the sky painted lavender by the setting sun and encroaching night, and everything feels a little dreamy.

"If anyone would appreciate boldness, Ollie, it's me," you tell him blithely around the cigarette you're trying to light. Still, he's quiet for this one moment, watching the way you cup your hand around the little flame to shield it from the wind.

"How did you and Farleigh ever get so close, considering how he treats you?"

You're pretty sure you know why he's asking you, considering what few interactions he'd witnessed between yourself and Farleigh, but it's still unexpected coming from him. For a moment, your gaze flicks to him, eyes narrowed, not quite sure what to make of the interaction. When your gaze meets his, he's looking at you with that intent, inquisitive look he got in moments like these, moments he seemed to fish for information without seeming like that was what he was doing. The silence and look that you level at him seem to throw him off guard, and immediately he drops his gaze to his feet, swinging off the edge of the building.

"That is bold," you finally settle on, watching Oliver fidget. His ankles cross, his shoulders slump; again he makes himself as small as possible. You deliberately make your tone lighter when you continue, "what's got you worried 'bout me an Farleigh?"

"I mean, all I'm saying is that he was being nasty to you, but now you're both kind of acting like he wasn't."

It's true; since his apology that Sunday morning Farleigh had been keeping his word about not being too bitter about Oliver to or even around you and Felix. You, in turn, made a special effort to spend time with him, pay him attention, made him feel like your priority on occasion. Both you and Farleigh were well aware of what you were doing, but he always enjoyed your company and attention, so it wasn't like he was going to complain.

"Farleigh and I understand each other."

"He slept with your girlfriend."

"India's not my girlfriend."

"He- he keeps calling you a dog."

That hit a nerve. You hadn't realised he was paying attention to that back at the pub. You swallow hard and look out at the horizon.

"And?" Raising the cigarette to your lips again, you don't look at him as you take a very long drag on it, "there are more things in Heaven and Earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy," you breathe out with the smoke.

"Doesn't seem like the way friends should talk about each other is all," Oliver says quietly, notes of apology in his voice; you can see him looking at you again out of the corner of your eye.

"Best friend, actually," you finally sigh, letting the tension drop from your shoulders and the moment. As you look at him over your shoulder, you give a faint smile in the face of his confusion, "we've known each other long enough that we can say pretty much anything we want to each other. Only problem is that Farleigh knows that pushing my buttons also pushes Fi's buttons, which is why he does it so often. He's a shit-stirrer, but you haven't known us long enough to know he doesn't really mean it," you tell him with surprising fondness in your voice.

"I'm sorry for prying," Oliver says earnestly, and you smile wider.

"I'm sorry for being so defensive; I realise how it must look from the outside."

Before anything else can be said, the door to the roof bursts open, and Felix greets you both with a hundred-watt smile and a packet of fish and chips in his hands. You descend on him like a seagull, swapping your cigarette for the hot food, tearing into the paper wrapping and settling by the wall at the edge of the roof near Oliver once more.

There's a beat where Felix is watching you and Oliver, his smile soft and fond and endeared, but there's something in his eyes that's been there since that lunched they'd shared at the pub -

"I shouldn't say -" there's a lot of things Felix shouldn't do that he does anyways. Considering his wealth, he could get away with a lack of self control, "I just genuinely didn't know, I mean I might have guessed- did you know?"

"Know what, Fi?" You're still in his bed, bleary-eyed and desperately wanting to go back to sleep when he'd come back from the pub buzzing instead of tired, as he'd predicted.

He'd spent the better part of the afternoon with his head on your chest, explaining the almost Dickensian tragedy that was Oliver's life. Sure you were listening, but you didn't have much to contribute other than faint noises of interest while your fingers carded through his hair.

There's something about the way Felix recounts all this information to you, the way he finds it salacious and heart-breaking all in one. You can hear in his voice that he'd captivated, that he's endeared by the struggle that has followed Oliver throughout his life. As much as you loved him, you'd watched time and again the way he'd fall for tragic tales and the people who'd recount them; Felix had a saviour complex, and it was the only thing the two of you had ever fought about.

Last year it had been Eddie, the worst of the bunch so far. Like Oliver but in the opposite direction; too much, too loud, too confident to hide his ugly secrets and desperation to be wanted. Eddie had been Icarus, taking for granted the wax wings Felix had given him, the good life, attention, a comrade who almost understood him. But he'd played with fire, played with Venetia too many times, and the wax wings melted. Not that you'd cared; you were the one who spotted them, you were the one that told Farleigh, you were the one who listened to Felix's furious rants every few days for the rest of that Summer. You'd never liked Eddie like Felix liked Eddie.

Oliver was different. You wondered if he was different enough.

Still, as much as you liked Oliver you could see it in Felix's eyes, hear it in his voice; he was already getting himself addicted to the idea of how much better he could make Oliver's life. But Felix had hated it the last time you'd pointed something like that out.

("Then why the fuck would I keep you around? Maybe it's because I don't pick my friends based on whether they're charity cases!")

So you keep your mouth shut. Maybe it's worth it for the way Felix smiles -

"I don't -" Oliver's fidgeting when Felix asks him to tag along to a costume party, "have anything to wear, really," he admits. Immediately Felix is offering to let him borrow something. There's a flicker that looks almost hungry in Oliver's eyes amid the gratefulness, and you wonder if he knows how many people would kill to get into Felix's pants. Still, he's humble, "you don't have to do that."

"I don't have to do anything," Felix shrugs with the easiest smile in the world. Then, in the next sentence, completely glossing over the act of kindness he looks at you, "tell me you aren't still expecting Farleigh to commit to that devil costume with you."

"He told me he'd put effort in this year -"

"He tells you that every year," Felix laughs, and you lean into Oliver's shoulder to explain.

"Me and Farleigh always organise to go to one costume party per year as an angel and a devil -"

"And every year," Felix rolls his eyes with a good-natured exasperation, "Farleigh wears some vulgar t-shirt and two party hats for horns, while Y/N puts weeks of effort in and wins best dressed every time-"

"Not every time," you protested, while Oliver looked faintly impressed, leaning back against you too.

"The only times you haven't won best dressed was if there was no competition to win," Felix points out, before looking past you to Oliver with an amused smile, "so I can't promise you a Y/N-level of costume, but it'll be more than two party hats."

"If you wanna give me two party hats, I'll wear 'em," Oliver says, hands coming up as if to placate the both of you. Instead, you grin wider, throwing an arm around his shoulders.

"We'll make you all pretty, Ollie, don't worry."

Unsurprisingly, on the night of the party, Farleigh showed up to 'get ready' at your dorm, which meant him lazing on your bed, drinking and sharing his coke with you while you put arguably too much effort into your makeup. He, of course, is wearing two party hats, and t-shirt that simply says 'EASY', and though you pretend to be annoyed for all of five minutes, he gives a shit eating grin as you chew him out.

"Fool you once, shame on me, sure; fool you six times, that's on you, Y/N."

You flipped him off with a grin.

"There they are!" India cheers from the sofas where your other friends are gathered when you arrive to the party. Farleigh, on your arm, makes a show of his entrance, "not you, Farleigh, obviously." India rolls her eyes, but thankfully Farleigh wasn't too put out. Instead, he swans towards the group to claim a seat.

"Give us a spin, angel," Annabel insists with a coy smile, and you oblige her to the whistles and cheers of the rest of your friends.

"You outdo yourself," Felix told you fondly as you dropped into a beanbag by the sofa he and Oliver had been occupying.

Felix is looking at you, that kind of dangerous look when he thinks you're especially hot and there's only a thirty percent chance that the two of you will even make it to a dark corner. For just a moment, however, your gaze flicks to Oliver, by his side, and he's watching Felix too, absolutely rapt by the way your best friend looks at you.

"Only in comparison to Farleigh," you shake your head, forcing yourself to be Felix's self restraint, especially so early in the night, "besides, look at you; you've certainly grown into this since I last saw you try it on," and you leaned forward as best you could, looking across the circle of friends to the pretty, redhead in the slinky nurse outfit, "how fucking good does Felix look, Annabel?" You ask pointedly, and you can see Felix give a restrained chuckle before turning his attention to his own not-girlfriend, who seemed glad for the chance to gush about him.

Sitting back, you chance a glance once more at Oliver, and somehow aren't surprised to see him looking back at you. All you do is smirk, well aware of what you were doing.

Felix's clothes are too big on Oliver. The costume, though you're not exactly sure what he's meant to be, kind of wears him instead of the other way around. Felix, of course, looks all kinds of gorgeous as a police officer, while Oliver looked rather like he's wearing his big brother's hand-me-downs. But he's rolls up the sleeves and always looks up at Felix with these blue, doe eyes shining with gratefulness, and no-one else cares enough to comment either way.

You wonder if anyone else has noticed, the way Oliver's personality changes with his focus. It's not in large ways, perhaps others think its like a trick of the light, but the way he looks at others, the way he behaves, it seems to vary from person to person. Tactile, distant, closed off, hesitant, open, honest, warm, skittish, never truly the same with each individual. It's like he watches, figures out what people want to hear, what they want from him, and does his best to give it to them. It's almost painfully familiar.

Oliver gives Felix what he wants in a way you know you never can; Oliver gives him someone to help, someone to feel like he's saving. As long as Felix is happy, you tell yourself, that is enough, and it's easy to like Oliver in your own way. The only problem you've found is that as much as you like Oliver, as intrigued as you are by him, you can't quite get a read on him, what he wants, what your place may be in his life. He's always watching, always searching for something, but you're never sure of what.

So you decide to show him love, show him appreciation the way you know best.

More and more you choose to stay by his side when you're all out, at the pub, at clubs, either of you are not with Felix, or if you're not otherwise occupied by someone requesting your attention, you'll be with Oliver.

Tonight, at the club, a girl from town had been occupying Felix's personal space for the better part of an hour, and by the time he has her against a wall down a dark corridor, Oliver's absconded from the dance floor to get another drink, but hasn't returned. You find him skulking against a wall, half drunk pint in his hand, gazing out through the crowd. When you join him, when you follow his gaze, you can see the silhouette of Felix and the girl, his hand up her shirt through the haze.

"It doesn't bother you?" Oliver asks, loud enough to be heard over the music, but not by anyone else.

"The girls don't bother me," an easy, languid smile spreads across your face, "the girls love me," you amend, smile turning a little smug as you watch Felix and the girl whose name you can't even been be bothered to recall.

"Felix's girls?* Ever-hesitant Oliver, even here and now, sounds carefully demure amongst his curiosity, "do you -?" He makes an awkward gesture, but you read his intentions and laugh dismissively.

"No, no... well," you pause for a moment, "occasionally I have my fun, I suppose, but not like that; girls who are into Felix aren't traditionally into me like that, no," you shake your head with an an missed smile, "but that's why they like me, I'm not a threat, see?"

Even through the haze and flashing lights, you can see Felix's hands on the girl; he's warm and rough and the way he holds always feels so fucking secure -

Looking away sharply, you're surprised by how intently Oliver's watching you. Its genuinely startling, and though he seems to understand this but doesn't look away. For just a moment your breathless, caught up in the night and the jealousy and want for your best friend that you usually have much more control over - your own words echo in your head; I'm not a threat, see? A smug lie, a joke at all those poor girl's expenses since you knew they were never going to last.

Oliver's gaze burns when you finally look him squarely in the eyes; he knows.

"I get the impression people assume a great many things about our Felix," he wets his lips, casting his gaze to darkened hallway, to where you had seen Felix with his mouth on the neck of his girl of the night, but you can't look away from him. Our Felix. "And about you."

"And you?" Your tongue darts out, wetting you lips as you draw Oliver's attention back to you, tone flirty. There's something exhilarating about this man that you can't help but want to tease out.

"Not much to assume," he gives a faint smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes, "I'm more the observant type than one whose observed."

"You make the assumptions."

"I make the assumptions," he actually smirks, a bit of that usual gentle hesitation that he approached the world with slipping for just a moment.

"And?"

"And what?"

"Do you have a lot of assumptions about Our Felix?" You tease his earlier wording, but once again his gaze drifts to your best friend, if he still is in the crowd. Them, quieter, almost as if you don't mean to you murmur, "or me?"

"Had."

"Had?"

"Had a lot of assumptions," there's a kind of mischief in his eyes as his tone takes on an air of nonchalance, "'bout him, 'bout you too." As he speaks, you step towards him, hand on his arm, moving steadily higher. He can feel it, you know he can, but all he does is smile wider, refusing to break your gaze.

"Like what, Oliver Quick?"

Leaning in, Oliver takes your face in his hands, bringing you close, sharing breath, lips inches from his.

"Like how they write Odysseys about your kind of loyalty," he mumbled, and you feel like his gaze alone could swallow you whole. There's a aching, yearning that you feel in this moment, when you crush your lips to his. It's quick and desperate, and he pulls back, "like how you show love with every fuckin' bit of that body of yours," this time he pulls you in and it's rougher, it's needy, he bites at your lip and you whimper against his mouth, press yourself against him, "like-" he kisses you quickly, "like- like-" but as you find yourself trailing rough kisses down his jaw, he seems to lose his train of thought.

"Yes?" You prompt with a laugh.

"Like how you're desperate to feel needed."

"Observant," you tell him softly, raising your head, arms still around him. In this moment, his expression is open, watching you, waiting for you to react, "more observant than anyone else."

"You wear it on your sleeve, sweetheart," he says bluntly, but something about being seen, about his unwavering honesty, that sets your heart beating, burning in your chest. Or perhaps it's that he called you sweetheart; it's rare that someone is so sweet to you.

"Then need me, want me."

"I do," this time when he kisses you, it's gentle, full of warmth and unexpected love, and the way he holds you close makes you feel so precious and desired at once, "but not like this, not now." And he's letting you go, despite the way your lips tingle and the damn butterflies in your stomach. You desperately want to cling to him, to ask him what the fuck he means, but he kisses you on the forehead and tells you to get back safe, wearing an almost smug, knowing smile, disappearing into the crowd. You can't even go after him, he's made you damn weak in the knees and all you can do is lean against the wall for support.

Felix and his girl have disappeared.

Your friends are still living it up on the dance floor, you're sure, but you have only one thought on your mind.

Oliver Quick is a fucking tease.

#felix catton x reader x oliver quick #saltburn x reader #felix catton x reader #saltburn imagine #felix catton imagine #felix catton x y/n #felix catton x you #oliver quick x reader #head heart hand fic #oliver quick x you #oliver quick imagine #manic writer

[ssaaaronmontgomery]

Pregnant BAU Reader goes into labor and panics about the child not having a father, but then realises Hotch is right there with them making it feel OK.

Basically reader realising their boss will be the closest thing their kid has to a dad and how lucky the kid is to have that. Can be platonic or romantic 🥰 💝

Always There

Warnings: Pregnancy, fluff, nervous reader, Hotch being a sweetheart 🥹🫶, if I missed any please let me know!

Word count: 1k

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x pregnant!bau!reader

A/n: Yes yes 🥹🥹. I love this so much and I loved writing it!! I hope it is to your satisfaction and that you enjoy it<3. This was not proofread so I apologise if there are any mistakes!

Forever tags: @greg-montgomery @boredelle @hotchsdoormat @ssahotchnerr @criminalskies @beardedhotchh @hotchnerbau @mrs-ssa-hotch @ssamorganhotchner

Going into labour three weeks before your due date wasn't really part of the plan and you'd been so busy with work that you hadn't really considered the possibility. Though Hotch had apparently taken this into consideration because a number of weeks ago he'd assigned you to desk work only. You hadn't even been able to travel with the team.

Going into labour was already scary enough on its own. But what made it worse was that your baby's father was not in the picture whatsoever and not having someone you know and feel safe with during this experience scared you even more. It terrified you if you were being completely honest with yourself.

You're sitting at your desk when everything starts and you don't know what to do. Well, you know what to do but in the moment everything flies out of your head and now you're starting to go into panic mode. You hadn't even realised JJ and Spencer saw what was happening or when JJ appeared at your side as Reid went to get Hotch.

Then you hear Aaron saying your name as you hold your hand on your stomach. Looking up at him from your seated position he's looking at you with concern. "Y/n? Hey we've gotta get you to the hospital, okay?" His hand is on your shoulder.

"Hotch, I'm scared. I- I can't do this by myself. I always thought I could, but I can't-"

"Y/n, you're not alone, okay? I'll be there if you'd like that. The team is here for you too." He gives your shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

Of course he would be there.

He was always there. He always helped you. Especially when you announced your pregnancy. He helped you set up your nursery. Putting the crib together. Painting the walls. Putting the new furniture in the room. He helped put your hospital bag together. He was always there for you whenever you were feeling scared or anxious about anything but especially the pregnancy. He was just there. So you shouldn't be surprised that he wants to be there for you through this part of it too.

He's already been such a father figure to your child and they haven't even been born yet.

There's always been some sort of romantic aura surrounding your relationship with him but nothing had ever happened. You were pretty sure it was because Aaron didn't want to overstep, but you weren't really sure. Whatever was there, you both knew it. You just never had a conversation about it. Although now isn't really the time to have that talk.

"I'd like that. Please." You have a pleading look in your eyes Aaron gives you a small smile. He tries to hug you as best as he can considering the obstacle your bump has created.

Before you know it you're being rushed to the hospital.

A number of hours go by and in true Aaron fashion, he was with you for it all. He did his best to keep you calm and comfortable given the situation. Honestly, anything he did helped you quite a bit. You know if he hadn't been there you'd have been a wreck but having Aaron with you through it was the best thing you could have asked for and you don't know what you would have done if he wasn't there.

You were holding your baby in your arms for the first time now and it was bringing you so much joy. It felt somewhat surreal. But it was incredible.

Looking up with a grin on your face you're met with the same expression on Aaron's face as he looks at you with your little love.

"May I?" Aaron asks as he holds his arms out. He wants to hold the baby. You knew he did just from the look on his face. You smile even brighter and nod as you both carefully maneuver the tiny human into his huge arms. He's immediately grinning impossibly bigger. He looks just as happy now as he does when he has Jack in his arms.

"Hi little one. You're adorable, you know that? You have so many people here to meet you. They're all excited to welcome you to the BAU family. And your momma, she's wonderful. She loves you so much. She loves you and I know she'll give you everything she's got. And I'll always be here for you too if you're okay with that." Aaron looks like he's got love just pouring out of him as he says all of this to your baby and when he does, you know he means it. You know he already loves this child like his own. He's been there for many of those things. Even going to some of the doctor's appointments with you and holding your hand during them. He kept snacks for you in a specific drawer in his desk just for you.

Everything feels so overwhelming for you, not in a bad way but in the best way. It brings tears of joy to your eyes and Hotch notices immediately, of course he's concerned.

"Are you okay? Can I get you something? Do you want to hold-"

You cut off his questions by shaking your head "No. No, I'm fine. I'm just happy. Hold the baby as long as you want. But I will want my child back before you leave." He chuckles a little and looks back down at the small life in his arms and looks back up at you.

"Why would I leave? I would like to stay, but only if that's okay with you. I want to be here." His voice is soft and genuine. It only makes those tears spill over and stream down your cheeks. All you can manage is a nod as you wipe your tears away.

"What about Jack?"

"He's having a sleepover at Jessica's. And I'm sure he'd like to meet this one." He looks back down at the sleeping baby and you notice that his smile hasn't left once.

You don't know it yet but when he had said he wants to stay he doesn't just mean he wants to stay at the hospital with you. He means he wants to stay with you and your little one indefinitely. But that's something you find out later.

#anon🩶 #aaron hotchner #hotch #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #criminal minds #hotchner #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x pregnant!reader #aaron hotchner fluff #cw pregnancy #hotch🌜 #anon request #mon answers 🩷 #mon posts 🩷

[harrystylesfan2686]

Pieces

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel and Reader are falling apart and there is nothing reader can do about it.

A/N: angst because I'm sad🥲. Inspired by Sand by Dove Cameron.

Pieces Masterlist

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I feel Azriel drift away from me.

Day after day, I notice him distancing himself from me. He doesn't spend much time with me now. Doesn't talk to me. Doesn't hold me like he did before.

He is spending much of his time with Elain now.

I see them in the garden, walking beside each each, her hand held in his. They talk and laugh with each other, lost in their own world. He even makes time for her.

Just like him did for me before.

He only comes home to eat, sleep and make small talk to me and then goes back to her again. Every morning I watch him get up from bed and get ready for the day, silently. He pecks my lips, whispers a small 'I love you.' and leaves.

I feel like a stranger to him now.

Whenever I try to talk to him about his day or literally anything else, he turns me down immediately, only giving me short responses. He doesn't ask me of anything in return, never wanting to talk me for more than 5 minutes.

It makes me feel unwanted.

When we accepted our mating bond, I had issues with trusting our future together. Azriel assured me we would be alright. He told me over and over again, that he loved me.

"I love you so much. You are my everything. I promise you, I will spend the rest of my life making sure you know that."

I could hear his love in his words. It was almost a century ago. That promise is what I remind myself of when I start to question his loyalty for me.

I've lost count of how many nights I've spent crying in my pillow, everytime these little things cut deeper wounds in my heart. None of which Azriel heard in his slumber.

-☆-

The silence is uncomfortable.

The clicking of spoons against dishes help in filling it a little but the awkwardness still stays. I look at Azriel, eating without glancing up. I made his favorite tonight. He still hasn't commented on it, not that I expected him too. I did.

I clear my throat to catch his attention but he still doesn't look up, so I ask,"How was your day?".

"It was normal." He says without looking up, not say anything else after.

"I made your favorite today." I try again. That finally catches his attention. Hazel eyes look into mine containing what it seems to be realization. I tilt my head in confusion. "Did you not realize that? I hadn't cooked it in so long so i thought you'd be happy to eat this."

"Oh, um, no you're right, I didn't realise it. I actually was trying to hurry up." He gave a apologetic smile.

"Hurry up?" I ask. "Yes, I have business with Rhys today. And I actually ate this a week ago." He looks at the plate.

"Oh?" I frown. "Yes. I mentioned to Elain once that I like this and she surprised me by cooking it and forcing me to eat and review it." He chuckles. "It was quite good." He continues eating as if he didn't just broke my heart to complete pieces.

My shoulders drop and eyes burn with tears threatening to fall. I look down to hide my crumbling face from him. I clench my figures around the spoon, trying to keep my emotions in control. I somehow manage to not cry until he is gone for the second time today.

But the second he leaves I drop on our bed and sob until my eyes are raw and sleep takes over me.

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#acotar fandom #acotar #acotar fanfiction #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel angst #azriel x you #azriel x elain #angst #I'm sorry #crying my eyes out #pieces #azriel x femalereader

[brayneworms]

i'll fetch you anything you like.

featuring. aki hayakawa x gn!reader

content. MDNI, smut, riding, begging, crying, smoking, light masochism, burning (reader puts a cigarette out on aki), mild codependency, pet names (loverboy, darling), gender neutral reader, agab not mentioned, sub!aki + dom!reader, a little angst, pining, kissing, vague love confessions.

word count. 3.2k

synopsis. aki's smoking is a nasty habit, but you're certain you can get him to quit. also, aki pines.

notes. minors don’t interact. anyways how’s this for a first post ( totally normal abt aki hayakawa )

Aki Hayakawa is an orphan in every sense of the word.

Literally being the one most people associate him with, but—Aki comes to a realisation when he's maybe thirteen or fourteen that the word runs deeper than that. It's not as if your entire life is defined by your relationship with your parents, after all; even people who have ones that are alive become something other than offspring in their life. Husband, brother, uncle, father. But orphan sticks, no matter how many people you fill your life up with to replace the parents you lost. Aki thinks there is something in the word that rings of loneliness; he could father a hundred children, become grandfather to two hundred more, gain friends and a partner, and still he would be Aki Hayakawa, orphan.

Alone.

"That's a bad habit."

Aki's fingers don't pause in their ministrations, thumb pressing down on the jut of the lighter as it zips to life. The cherry of his menthol cigarette glows in the blue-dark of the office. The sky outside the thin window is pale with the gloaming, and he breathes a haze of gritty smoke over it, sullying the view.

You've made yourself at home on his desk, legs swinging leisurely. You must be cold in only his work-shirt and boxers that cling to your hips and thighs. You watch him passively, head cocked.

"One of my least dangerous ones," he intones, which is true enough for a man who has three years to live at most.

"Oh? What tops the list?"

Aki eyes you serenely. "I dunno if you've heard, but I work for this place called the Public Safety Division."

Your laughter breaks the delicate quiet like a flock of birds taking off from a tree. "Put it out. I hate the smell."

Aki's dark brows crinkle. "I'm not wasting a perfectly good cigarette. If it bothers you so much, eat it."

"Eat it? You freak."

"At least then someone's getting something out of it."

You hop from the desk, yawning. In the dim light that is starting to grow just a little brighter, Aki can see the beginnings of bruises on your throat and collarbone, vanishing in an ugly rainbow trail down to the hastily-down buttons of his work shirt. Your socked feet pad along the threadbare carpet on your way over to him, and Aki inhales deeply. Maybe if there's enough smoke in his lungs it will encourage him not to breathe; that way, he won't do that god-forsaken embarrassing thing he does when you get close. His heart stutters, and it makes his breath hitch audibly. The worst part is you seemed to be goddamn attuned to it—there seems to be little you like more than knowing you have an effect on him.

Aki doesn't stop you when your fingers come up to encircle his cigarette, brushing his as you pluck it gently from between his lips. He hates that even the smallest kiss of your skin against his still sends liquid lightning zipping through him, like he's that seventeen-year-old he was when he met you, the one full of spite and anger who hadn't been held since his mother died.

You pull the cigarette away, still lit; the butt glows red and angry between your delicate hold, gleams in the reflection of your eyes. When Aki meets them, he feels his mouth go dry; your pupils are large and black, engulfing iris, barely blinking as you look up at him.

"Bet I can make you quit," you say.

Aki snorts. "Better men than you have tried."

"Anything can be unlearned," you counter smoothly. "All bad habits go away with a little punishment."

Aki feels his heartbeat quicken, tries not to let the way that one word sets his blood alight show on his face. "Hm," he says noncommittally, but frustratingly, he doesn't think he's fooled you for a second.

Your serene smile curved into something sharp as easily as breathing. "Gimme your hand."

And Aki does, though he knows where this is going. You turn his hand over gently at the wrist, leaving it palm-up, fingers splayed in your grip. You hold him so gently it makes him shiver. Carefully, slowly—Aki thinks, giving him much time to pull away—you raise the burning end of the cigarette and plant it in the centre of his pale palm, a stinging kiss. Aki hisses, grits his teeth, but dutifully doesn't move even as his hand twitches involuntarily at the contact. Just as tears start to needle at his eyes, you twist the butt and pull away, leaving a shallow pool of grey ash, a black soot mark, and a stinging red welt like a patch of burning leaves.

His eyes are glued to the masterpiece you've made of his boring skin. The burn throbs unpleasantly, but something low and hot has come alive in his abdomen at the lingering kiss of pain. It satiates something inside him just smoking the thing could never hope to touch. He likes the futility of feeding himself his own death, sure—makes him feel like he has marginally more control over it, despite what the Curse Devil might have to say about it. This sort of pain is different; it goes straight for the gullet, and it makes it all the more sweet that it's you doing it.

A stupid, lonely part of Aki—orphan—wants to believe you're doing this because you care for him. Because you want him to live as long as possible. The grown, cynical man he supposes he's become thinks you must be just as fucked up as he is. It doesn't really matter either way; Aki's loved you for years, and he's astonished he's even gotten this far with you, and he'll take anything you deign to give him, pleasure or pain because it's all sort of the same to him anyway.

You unscrew a bottle of drinking water and hold it over your discarded blazer, soaking the lapel before pressing it to the burn. Aki grunts, eyebrows knitting up as a strange cocktail of relief and pain throbs slowly through his body. Your hands holds the wet fabric over his one, like a ribcage encasing a beating heart. Oh, Aki would let you hold his heart in your hands, and who cares what you decided to do with it? It's hardly his business; it belongs to you anyway.

He leans in to kiss you, gets close enough to brush his lips against yours and feel his pupils dilate before you turn your head, ducking. Aki feels his heart stutter anxiously as you turn your serene face up to him.

"Hate the taste," you say.

Aki frowns. "I barely smoked it for thirty seconds."

"It lingers."

Aki isn't stupid; this is part of the punishment. And the goddamn annoying part is that it's working. Even as you take his other hand to hold the soaking blazer against his burn and turn away, every fibre in his body wants to stop you. Turn you back around, pin you against the wall, swallow any complaints with his lips. He wants to make you melt against him, wants to melt himself under you in that way you always manage to do to him. He likes feeling like he doesn't have to think with you; just await whatever comes next, pain or pleasure, and he'll take it because it's you.

But Aki doesn't move. He's not a problem dog. He stands quietly and nurses his burn, tracking you with his eyes as you re-dress yourself, his shirt tucked into your slacks, tie wound through the collar, work boots laced up to the ankle.

"I gotta run home and shower," you say, tugging your blazer on. "I'll see you back here in, like, an hour."

Aki nods. "Okay."

The grin you flash him is little more than poisonous; it makes it heart skip a beat. "How's your burn?"

He swallows around a dry throat, holding your stare with a touch of timidity. "What burn?"

Delight shivers over your expression like wind ruffling a field of grass, and you stride the length of the cramped office and kiss him. Aki grunts, rendered thoughtless the moment your mouth touches his, your hands in his collar and his hair; his hands go slack, blazer fluttering to the ground, and the welt on his palm stings horribly when his hands come up to latch around your shoulders and neck. He pulls you closer, a little frantic, and he has barely a moment to reflect on how worrying it is that he's this desperate for your touch after being denied only once, but before he can think to dwell on it you're parting your lips and he's tugged your body flush against his own. He's so close he could drown in you. For a moment, he wants to.

Far too soon, you pull away. You're delighted. "Good," you murmur, and he hates how his heart leaps into his throat. "You're so good, Aki."

His face is on fire. "I'm not a dog," he manages.

"Sure you are," you say matter-of-factly. "And I'm Pavlov. I'll break that nasty habit of yours if it's the last thing I do. Give you something else to focus on. Okay?"

Aki licks his dry lips. "You can try," he says hoarsely, hoping it doesn't sound as much like an invitation as he thinks it does. The impish smile you give him implies he's shit out of luck.

Aki is in hell.

He knows this, because every time the two of you have hooked up since your little conversation in his office, he hasn't been allowed to kiss you if you detect even a whiff of smoke on his breath. It's killing him a little, to be honest. Fucking without kissing just feels wrong. It makes him forget it's you, sometimes, his vision of you sliding out of focus 'till you could be just anyone. And Aki doesn't fuck just anyone. He fucks people he loves.

He loves you. But he can't have you. And he can't even kiss you so he can pretend he has you, if only for a minute. It's just fucking, a tumble of sweating limbs and gasps and grunts, of a thrilling cocktail of pleasure and pain and almost-confessions bitten back at the last second, hidden in the crook of your neck.

Your shitty wooden headboard creaks into the shitty thin bedroom wall, and Aki spends a moment in lucidity to send a silent apology to your neighbours. One arm braces against the wood, flexing with every fast jerk of his hips, and you're under him, eyes clenched shut and meeting his thrusts in a way that has Aki wondering why anyone could think being on top had to mean being in control. He's oiled to your machine, matching the rhythm of your hips and trying not to drown as your back arches up from the sweat-damp sheets, stomach curving into his, one arm holding fast around his neck.

You feel so good he could cry. Not that that would be an irregular occurrence, or anything—he'd practically sobbed the first time you fucked, and back then you'd been all fluttering concern, stopping even though he tried to sputter please, Christ, don't stop, I'll die if you stop, please. He supposes you're kind, in your own way. You'd stroked away his tears and kissed his damp face.

"Aki," you groan, bringing him forcefully back to the present; his dark bangs dangle in his eyes as he looks down at you, mouth agape and head cloudy. "Wh-what's got you so wound up?"

As if you don't know. Aki grits his teeth.

Your hand makes patterns on the damp nape of his neck as his rolling hips slow, as he breathes deep to try and regain a semblance of his dignity. "Loverboooy," you croon up at him, your free hand gripping at the junction between his hip and thigh. Aki grimaces; he hates that nickname. "Talk to me."

Aki glares at you. "You know—I want—you know. St-stop it."

He whimpers somewhere high in his throat as your body tightens around him, free hand coming up to scrub down his face. "D-don't!"

"Sorry, sorry," you laugh. "I'm sorry. Why don't you tell me what you want? Maybe I'm feeling nice."

It feels like a trap, like luring his feelings into the light just to snap a bear trap over them. But Aki wants, he yearns so deeply and desperately that he's just about willing to risk it. "Want to kiss you."

Your eyes gleam. "Do you?" you ask, as if this is news to you.

His arms shake. "Please."

God, he's pathetic. He's so used to being in control, to tailoring every facet of his life meticulously, grooming and tidying and cleaning. He knows the exact amount of calories he should eat per day. He puts his shoes on a rack so he never tracks mud onto the tatami mats. His shower utensils are organised in the order he uses them—shampoo, conditioner, face-wash, scented gel. He likes being in control. He thinks, anyway. You make him reevaluate. You make him reevaluate an awful lot.

You toss your head back against the pillows; you have the audacity to laugh. "Saw you smoking earlier," you tell him, and Aki's stomach goes cold. "Mm... full pack, too. A new one? When'd you buy that."

"Th-that was hours ago." And it's true; when Aki learns you're coming over, he puts his cigarettes in a locked draw and puts the key somewhere difficult to reach. "It won't still taste. I've eaten. I brushed my teeth."

That's just good manners.

"It's the principle of the thing, loverboy," you say, and your hand comes up to his chest and rolls him over. Aki gapes, whining at the loss of contact only to choke on his own voice as you sling a leg over his hips and slide him back into you. Your nails scrape red railroads down the pale skin of his sternum at the stretch, and Aki watches, mesmerised as you start to move, the flex of the muscles in your thighs, the vein bulging in your throat as you toss your head back. He wants to be all over you, a hand on your neck feeling your pulse go berserk for him, his teeth in your skin as proof he was there, nose buried in your hair, dirty and rough and the exact opposite of the way he usually wants you. That is—soft and kind, romantic, slow and heady as syrup.

He wants kisses that taste like tears, whispered confessions into bedsheets. He wants, painfully, the constant assurance he can never ask for. I love you. I love you. Oh, Aki, I love you.

"Kiss me," he gasps instead, writhing against the bedsheets, head thrown back at the brutal pace you set him. He's so close, teeth gritting and muscles locking up but without a kiss it feels cold and incomplete. "Please, please, kiss me, please—"

"You're a brat, Aki," you hiss, and Aki's heart twitches in his chest; he can hear his pulse in his skull. "You ignore the one rule I gave you, and you still think you get to ask for what you want?"

"It's a bullshit rule," he snaps. "I—I can't just, hah, I can't j-just turn it, off, oh, fuck—"

"You okay?" you ask in a fleeting moment of mercy. Aki's eyebrows knit up. "Am I—is it too much?"

Aki shakes his head. "I'm okay," he mumbles pitifully. "I'm close."

"I know, darling," you murmur. "It's okay. I'm gonna give you what you want. And you're gonna give me what I want. Deal?"

"I—I..." Aki chews the inside of his cheek till copper floods his mouth. "I'll try? I'll try, I swear."

You still for a moment. "You mean that?"

Aki nods frantically. "Yes, I—if that's what you want, anything, anything you want, please..."

The beam that breaks out on your face is a million watts. "Aki," you breathe, and finally you lean forward 'till your chest brushes his. Aki can't breathe, transfixed by every swoop of your eyelash and chap in your lip as you lean close. When you speak, you're so close that your lips brush his, and he has to keep every muscle taut to stop himself leaning forward and closing the gap. "Aki, I want you to live a long, happy life. You get that, right? Why I'm doing this?"

He feels his stomach flip, can barely comprehend the words through his dazed mind. His glazed eyes follow you, thunderstruck. "What—what d'you mean?"

"I care about you," you murmur. "I want you to live as long as possible. Want you to stick around with me."

With you? It's a wonder his heart doesn't explode. For a fleeting moment, there exists a future beyond the Gun Fiend, beyond Denji and Power and Nyako, one where he can love you freely. Tears needle at his eyes. It all seems so impossible.

Aki forgets himself, surges up to capture your mouth, but you turn at the last second, planting a kiss to his cheek before focusing on his jaw, his ear, capturing the lobe between your teeth and sucking gently as your hips resume their rhythm. You're faster now, gasping for breath, Aki's hands sliding over the skin of your hips and torso for a lifeline. You tongue at the cords in his neck, the shell of his ear and the sensitive divot just underneath till he's squirming.

Your hands are everywhere—scraping nails across his twitching abdomen, running up the valley between his pecs, tweaking a nipple and pulling. And Aki groans and gasps, every hint of pain from your lovely hands sending him rocketing closer towards the edge. Tears bead at his lashline.

"'M close," he gasps again.

"That's okay, loverboy," you say sweetly, words buzzing against the skin of his throat, and Aki shudders, arching impossibly closer to you. He can feel every nerve in his body sawed open and set alight, impossibly sensitive, boiling with love, and as he comes he buries his face into the crook of your neck with a hoarse cry. Two lone tears streak down his flushed cheeks.

You're not far behind, and Aki wouldn't dream of pulling out, so he squirms and gasps and whines with the prickling of overstimulation as you chase your own high. "Sorry—fuck—you okay?"

"I'm, I'm good," Aki whines. He cracks one steely blue eye open. It stands out against his red skin; he's so flushed as to look sunburnt.

"'M almost, fuck, almost there. Hang on for me?"

Aki raises shaking hands to grip your hips in answer. You laugh between pants, baring down at him.

"That's my boy."

You don't kiss him when you finish, but it's alright. You flop down beside him, taking in deep lungfuls of air, nuzzling your lips to the salt-sweat cooling on his chest. Usually, round about now, Aki would roll to reach his bedside cabinet where his open pack of cigs lay in wait. The lighter is right beside him, open and tempting. He can almost hear the flick of it, the zip of the flame bursting to life, the sizzle of the cherry scorching beneath that controlled flame. The grit of smoke in his mouth and down his throat, emptying his lungs of fresh air.

The pack goes untouched. Aki winds an arm around your shoulders and holds you close, your cheek against his thudding heart.

You don’t kiss him, but it’s alright.

Aki’s not a problem dog.

He's going to earn it.

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