#frankly i thought it was suspicious

[lu-sn]

this is the face of a man who is connecting a lot of dots.

we know vegas had flagged porsche early on as someone to keep tabs on — he sent the assassin girl into that gala to report on porsche's skills as a bodyguard. but then we have this interaction:

vegas is clearly baffled that his dad cares about this random bodyguard, but gun provides zero context. just a vague, pointlessly harsh order.

so vegas makes his best guess at to why gun might care, and arrives at something close to "he's a point of weakness for kinn — we can use him." and he proceeds to do just that.

then, too-late, he learns he was wrong.

(shoutout to gun being angry about namphueng's son getting hurt while ACTIVELY hurting his own son. what a dickhead.)

i bet this new information just eats away at vegas, especially while he's trapped at the safehouse. how could he have possibly known he was supposed to keep porsche safe? when has his father EVER wanted to keep anyone safe? why the fuck is porsche so important?

once porsche hands him the photo, it all falls in place.

the consequences of being left in the dark were severe for vegas. it wrecked all of his plans from the start, and vegas had no clue how much it would matter. but neither did porsche — and as vegas says himself, kinn doesn't know either. this is a secret that goes all the way to the top.

gun cares about porsche, because gun cares about porsche's mother enough to have a photo of her in his office. and you can tell vegas is burning to know why.

sure, he says. he'll go find arthee. he'll fork up the five million in cash. he'll do whatever it takes to help porsche learn the truth of his past — because in some sense, it's vegas's past, too. and vegas wants answers.

#on my very first watch i remember being surprised about how easily vegas was acquiesing to porsche's needs #frankly i thought it was suspicious #then we learned porsche had brought pete there as a bargaining chip and i went oh. that's why. he's doing it for pete. #i don't think that's true anymore. i think pete was vital for getting vegas to agree to this meeting #but the moment vegas sees that photo? it becomes personal #kinnporsche #vegas theerapanyakul #porsche kittisawasd #gun theerapanyakul #vegaspete #kprewatch2023

[linklethehistorian]

sorry if this is a weird question I saw you saying the official translation for fifteen was inaccurate and i was wondering if you speak japanese fluently? /gen because i really dont want to read an inaccurate translation but i can barely read english lol nevermind any japanese

Despite my fear that this question is not actually genuine at all, I will go against my better judgement anyhow and answer it.

As to the question of do I speak/understand Japanese, the answer is yes; it should be very obvious to everyone by now, considering I do believe I’ve mentioned this several times, talked about translating the Fifteen stage play when I have spare time sometime back, and have watched and commented on the accuracy of the Fifteen and SB Stage Plays back while they were still (and in the case of Fifteen, still is) in Japanese only, as well as primarily own and read the JP Fifteen and Storm Bringer and have posted pictures of them before stating I was “bringing them along for reference” when I was going on a trip but still planning to work on my article during that time.

However, I find the question specifically being worded as “are you fluent in Japanese” to be extremely baiting, because with Japanese as a language especially, that is a point that has no universally agreed upon standard and can range from completely reasonable to utterly absurd.

Some people think “fluent” means having enough knowledge of the language to get comfortably by in day to day life while living in Japan.

Some people think “fluent” means knowing 1K-2K words.

Some people think “fluent” means knowing 10K words.

Some people think “fluent” means knowing the entirety of the Japanese language — which, newsflash, not even most native-born Japanese speak can hit that mark bro. Hell, English is my first language, and while I am obviously very familiar with it, I don’t even know all of its words that exist. Most people do not.

For fuck’s sake, I know someone who lives and teaches in Japan (which by some people’s definition would make them far more than fluent) and even they don’t consider themselves fucking fluent yet, by their own definition.

Do I know enough to get by with reading the source material cover to cover? Obviously, or I wouldn’t have the fucking book and use it as reference. Am I confident enough to say I can 100% accurately translate every sentence in it without any help or consulting? No. I’m still learning.

But that doesn’t mean that I don’t know enough to be able to tell when certain sentences are obviously off between the original and the translation, and then hunker down and do enough research and cross-checking with other people who speak the language to accurately and confidently speak on and translate those certain specific sentences in the book(s).

You don’t have to be fluent by any definition of the word to do your research and not be a dumbass about certain specific sentences and words that seem to be suspiciously heavily different between to versions of a given text.

I want to make an actual proper mini-article about this someday, and if I talk about it now, I won’t have any content left to do so, but what you need to understand is that entirety of the Fifteen Eng novel is not inaccurate — it’s very specific but important parts of it that are.

And the reason most people haven’t complained about it isn’t because the problem doesn’t exist — it’s because a) there aren’t that many people who are going to bother to read the novel in a language that isn’t their native one when they have the option of reading it in their native one, b) the ones that do speak Japanese and prefer to read the source material in its original language only are going to just do that, c) people who do bother to start comparing the two are likely going to start out by seeing that it’s mostly a decent enough translation and not continue to look for issues unless they’re pointed out to them, and last of all d) unfortunately people tend to just implicitly trust official translations to begin with, despite that things have happened in many, many fandoms time and time again to prove that no official translation should just be assumed to be accurate by virtue of it being “official”, as the frank reality of the matter is that official translators are no less prone to error or intentional creative liberty than unofficial ones (have I mentioned there is a frighteningly long thread somewhere here on Tumblr of official translators for various books talking about how they feel they have the right to transform and ‘improve’ the stories however they wish simply because they are being put at the wheel to translate it? not to mention fan translators even if not infallible at least tend to actually specialize in the specific series, understand its context better, and care about the project on a more personal and dedicated level than people who have likely translated hundreds of different series and are doing it primarily for the cash), and 99.9% of the time the original creators — for reasons that should be obvious — have minimal to no involvement in the process whatsoever.

If you don’t care about the book having an accurate tone or accurate characterization of all characters, then read the official Eng to your heart’s content, but personally I feel if you’re going to go that route, you’d honestly be just as well or better off reading any one of the Eng fan translations that exist, given you’ll get just about as many inaccuracies and at least generally a slightly closer tone to the original from what I’ve seen (though there is a major pitfall or two in regards to some of those, as well).

Oh and for the record this is only about Fifteen; Eng SB — for as far as I have gotten in it, at least — seems to be pretty decent overall, though I myself am not infallible and could have easily missed something.

In general, just don’t inherently believe everything simply because it has the words “official” slapped onto it; not everything that is ‘official’ is automatically perfect and good and fully looked over and fully controlled by Asagiri by definition.

Especially with translations in general — always take them with a grain of salt. Always. There’s nothing wrong with engaging with things in your own language, but never ever just assume they are 100% accurate and infallible because I assure you they are not. No matter how good or close to the original a translation may be, it will never be that original. There will almost always be at least tiny changes made here and there in order to make something read better or more comprehensively in a different language. And sometimes that’s okay and still makes something a close enough experience. And sometimes it isn’t.

All of that being said…

The sad reality is that as a person born and raised with a certain language or languages, we will never be able to reasonably consume everything in their original form; there will always be limits to what we have the time and ability to learn and what we don’t.

And that’s okay. That’s what translations exist for — to make a certain piece of media able to be enjoyed by those who for whatever reason can’t experience it in its original language. Is it always better to experience the original if you can? Yes. But is that always realistic and possible? No.

What is important isn’t avoiding translations like the plague even if they’re the only things you have available to you, it’s going into it knowing that they are not infallible and not using them to make arguments about the original, uppermost official canon without first double-checking that they are accurate to said original — and, god forbid you ever do and someone calls you out on it, being willing to check in with multiple people familiar with the language to ensure that your argument is indeed solid, and if it is not, being willing to admit you are wrong.

There is no shame in experiencing translated media. There is no shame in engaging with only translated media. There is only shame in being unwilling to doubt that the translated media is accurate and insisting that it must be simply because it is “official”.

And that is all I will be saying on the matter.

I also don’t mean to be rude, but for full transparency, if anyone sends me any further asks on the subject, I will discard them, and, if continued, block the individual(s) involved. It may be the case that you yourself intended this question genuinely, anon, but people who approach others with questions like these rarely do so in good faith and are usually actually looking for an excuse to dismiss someone’s thoughts on something, which is why I find the use of the word “fluent” to be beyond suspicious — because not only do you not have to be completely fluent in a language to be able to recognize and point out specific issues within specific parts of a translation to begin with and this ask inherently implies that one does, but also the meaning of that word is so incredibly broad and vague and varied from person to person that anyone could easily make the argument one is not “fluent enough” no matter how you answer it.

You could very simply have asked “do you speak/read/understand Japanese?” and have left it at that, but the fact you went out of your way to use that specific term instead every time you’ve asked about it makes me question your intent.

#linklethehistorian #my thoughts #thoughts #bungou stray dogs #bsd #bsd novels #fifteen #storm bringer #stormbringer #official english translations #ask #anon #ily anon #it’s nothing personal but I feel very suspicious of the wording #and quite frankly that’s why I held off on answering in the first place

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Decoy [S. R.]

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

word count: 6.9k

summary: when you go after an unsub who catches students making out, the unit is called upon to resort to desperate measures. Or in other words, where you and Spencer become the decoy to catch a voyeur.

warnings: +16. Making out, mentions of alcohol, mentions of violence, insinuation of smut, sexual tension

Do yourself a favor and imagine Spencer in these clothes during the case

You sighed, completely frustrated, while you looked for the thousandth time at the blackboard with some information from the profile that you had made for the criminal in this case.

You believed that the unsub was a Caucasian man between 30 and 35 years old, whose motive was to spy on and photograph university students who were escaping in their cars to make out at night, then force them to have sex in front of him and finally kill them cold-blooded. You imagined that he was a person with a mediocre job, that he felt insufficient, and that his voyeuristic behavior probably came from sexual frustration, something that could be corroborated by the violence that he inflicted on the genital area of the students whom he stalked using a knife, his mark on all homicides. You also believed that perhaps the rejection or abandonment of his last partner (preceded by a bad streak from his youth) due to his impotence had been the triggering event for all his repressed impulses to come to light.

All the psychological analysis was fine, it wasn't something you hadn't seen before, but the hard part of all this? Because he only threatened and killed people, he didn't rape them, at first it was almost impossible to tell who it was. He already had 20 victims in total and you weren't even close to catching him. In the last scene he had made the mistake of leaving a fingerprint and Garcia had been able to trace his true identity: Oliver Davis, a guy who fits the description perfectly. Unfortunately, this turned out to be useless because beyond the accusations of being a pervert, the man didn’t have much information that would give a clue to his whereabouts, you had even called the job that he had registered and all you had obtained was that he had several months without working there, which coincided with the beginning of the murders. After that Rossi suggested that he probably lived in a trailer (old, due to his lack of employment) where he developed the photographs and kept his trophies. That only made more sense when you thought that it would make it easier to transport or escape in case things got messy.

But words on paper and intelligent conclusions were of absolutely no use to you. You needed a plan to catch him.

"Do you have something, Reid?" Hotch had asked. You had already interviewed some students, you had set up guard duty to look for any suspicious behavior and you had even shared the photograph of the suspect in the media, but nothing had worked; The only thing left was to carry out the geographical profile to know the area in which he was attacking and thus be able to search for possible targets.

“I triangulated the locations we have of his previous homicides and I'm guessing he hits in this specific area,” he muttered, pointing to a space on the map he had on his blackboard with his middle finger. “Considering it's an area frequented by the age group due to its proximity to the universities and that it has several parks that the students told us they use to drink or go out as a couple”

"So what?" Morgan said from his spot. "We just wait until he kills someone else and hopefully we're near the scene to hear the screams?"

“Maybe we can ask the cops to patrol the area for the unsub's car,” JJ suggested.

“He's smart, there's a trailer park right here. It wouldn't be strange to find one on the streets as well.” Reid was visibly frustrated like everyone else and he ran a hand through his hair with some despair.

Your options were running out and frankly you couldn't think of anything else.

“And if we give him a target?” Emily murmured. Noticing that none of you said anything, she went on to explain her plan, “We ask police officers to send any young people they see around to home so we force our unsub to get close to who we want”

"And what are we going to do? Hire a couple of college kids to stalk them?”

“We can use our own team”

"Not to offend you, Prentiss, but we are no longer in the prime of youth"

"We don't, but Y/L/N and Reid do" when you heard your last name you were surprised, but when you heard your friend's you practically froze. First you looked at her and then at the doctor, whose gaze reflected the same stupefaction as you "You two are young, you might look like students"

"Are you saying you want to send us straight into the hands of a sexual predator?" you couldn't be offended, after all, those risks were part of the job, but you did feel somewhat reluctant about the idea.

“Do you have a better suggestion?”

“It doesn't sound so bad” Rossi murmured “It's a smart move”

“Besides, we would be watching around and we would intervene before that madman got close to you. Once we catch him, the photographs and personal items that he probably has in his trailer will be enough evidence, in addition to the fingerprint from the last crime scene” to your surprise, Derek was also pretty convinced of the plan that Emily had just devised.

"Reid, Y/L/N, would you guys be up for it?" Hotch exclaimed with his usual serious tone, looking at you and then at your partner.

Thinking objectively, the suggestion was very good. But thinking about it personally, you felt worried about the danger you two would be running into… oh, God. It wasn't until then that you realized that the plan to catch the suspect involved the two of you making out like a couple of hormonal college kids. 

You knew that the options that remained wouldn’t be as opportune as that and taking into account the temporary nature with which Oliver operated, in addition to the fact that he was already deteriorating as a murderer, it was most likely that he was already looking for new victims, so if you did that same night the chances of success were quite high. You were between a rock and a hard place and all you could do was look at him while the gazes of the rest of the room were divided between the two of you.

“I… I'll only do it if you say yes” you exclaimed in his direction, with a cautious voice and a fearful look. You knew your friend and you didn't want to make him feel uncomfortable in any way, even though you knew that both you and he knew that your personal interests would take precedence against the possibility that another couple of victims would lose their lives if you refused. It was your job, you had to do it. 

"Are you sure you guys are going to catch him before something happens?" Spencer asked your boss. You thought that with his background the last thing he wanted was to end up kidnapped or seriously injured again, even though the truth was that he was caring just as much about himself as he was about you. He had seen the photographs and knew that women were the most affected by the murder weapon… he didn't even want to imagine something like this happening to you.

"Of course. You will have communication with us and if something goes wrong we will get you out of there immediately" Aaron answered and your friend sighed nervously and then looked for your approval. You nodded slightly and he delivered the verdict, to which everyone agreed.

He was still standing, but after that he slumped into the nearest chair as he listened to everyone brainstorming ideas for setting up the scene, distributing the crew, and what they would tell the local police to do to make the decoy effective.

At some point you lost the whole point of the conversation, to start thinking about what was implied by what you were about to do.

The feeling of attraction for your co-worker had been latent in you for a couple of years, but you had never confessed it to anyone to avoid creating tension in the team or suffering the humiliation of certain rejection. Also, you knew that a crush meant distractions from what was truly important and you had tried, in vain, to eliminate it completely. But even if it hadn't completely gone, you had known how to control it, only allowing yourself to look at him with loving eyes from time to time and avoiding being too confident with him during group drinking outings. You even limited physical contact, not because you didn't like it but because you knew your greed would demand more and more of you until it became inevitable to beg for his touch. But now all that good work holding you back was screwed because in a few hours you would have to be passionately making out with him.

Still with the internal crisis, you raised your head to look at him and realized that he too had been submerged in his own tide of thoughts, which you hoped would be more positive than yours. At some point Spencer felt you watching him and when his eyes met yours he gave you that tight-lipped smile that was strangely comforting, to which you responded with the same gesture. After that it didn't take long for everyone to leave the room to fulfill their respective tasks, but you stayed seated because you honestly didn't feel enough energy to move. Besides, you had nothing entrusted to you, you were the bait.

"Hey, are you sure you're okay with this?" Spencer asked you, once everyone else had left. He looked so tired of everything, but at the same time there was a kind tone in his voice about him that made you smile.

“It's just kissing, Spence. I think we'll be fine" you assured him, trying to swallow all your embarrassment and nerves "And you?"

"I agree. I just hope we get lucky today or we'll just have to keep trying” 

"Reid, I need you to tell the cops what area we'll be in," Hotch interrupted you from the door. "You still have time to regret it," he added, looking at the two of you.

You immediately denied and after that Spencer withdrew from there in the company of Aaron. When you were about to drop you exhaled, completely concerned about the last thing your partner had said.

We will just have to keep trying. You didn't know if the idea excited you, or terrified you.

As night fell, Spencer drove the old pickup truck the unit had managed to rent for the two of you to drive into the park, with you in the passenger seat and a six-pack of beer in the backseat.

Although you were sure that it would be cold, you had decided to wear shorts and a button-down shirt that you normally wore for work, but that you had adjusted to make it look more youthful. Spencer was wearing an outfit that Morgan had gotten for him from a department store, simple jeans with a rather baggy cotton shirt and some nice boots that you didn't know where he got from, since in Quantico you had never seen him wear anything like that.

Both of you had showered at the hotel (separately of course) and you had made sure to brush your teeth and put on a good amount of deodorant and perfume before getting in the car. You had paid special attention to your appearance, not because it was necessary, but because you wanted to look perfect for him. Even with all this, you were a nervous wreck next to him, not saying a word along the way and only soft music from the radio filling the air.

When you stopped, the two of you put your headphones on to the channel the team was supposed to be on, and Morgan answered in the affirmative.

"Remember, he doesn't have to see the communicator or your weapon," Rossi spoke, who was also in the van, along with Prentiss and Hotch. "García will be watching with the security cameras and he will warn us if the trailer is coming"

"And meanwhile what do we do?"

"Pretend to be a couple, sit on the tailgate and drink beer, laugh, I don't know"

“Did you ever run away like that in college?” you asked, directly at Reid.

“Do you remember that I was like 16 when I studied at the university, right? I wasn't even old enough to drive, much less a car" he muttered and you gave a short laugh "I guess you did"

“I was too busy being the best in the institution to even think about going out and making out with idiots,” you replied, proud of yourself for that. “I mean, it's not like you're an idiot, but they were. You're very smart," you rambled, still twiddling your fingers, "Hotch, you guys will tell us when we're going to start kissing, will you?"

“When the suspect approaches, yes”

"Okay, well... then we have to go out, huh?" you muttered to him as you reached for the beers and tried to open the door to get out. You turned, expecting to see Spencer do the same as you, but noticed that he had lingered in the car for a moment, checking himself in the mirror and applying his lips with chapstick.

My God, could that man make you more nervous?

When he finally caught up with you, you went to the back of the pickup, where you opened the tailgate to sit down with a little hop. Spencer was tall enough to keep up with you just by leaning over the edge, where you watched him cross his arms. You were silent for a few moments, listening to the sound of crickets and cars in the distance.

"Do you think it's a good idea to drink?"

"Only a little. I'm having a hard time thinking while sober, I don't want to ruin the little reasoning I have left” you exclaimed as a joke. Or maybe you weren't joking so much "Just empty a couple of cans and leave them on the floor so he'll think we're really drunk." Spencer was about to do what you said when you noticed an important detail and called him over to look at you "Come here, let me fix your hair."

"What's wrong with my hair?"

"You're very well combed, it's not the image we expect" you carefully took his hand until it was close enough to pass the other through all his golden locks, messing them up enough to give him that relaxed touch that he should have. He looked so handsome, but not in the style of a fancy FBI agent but just like a young intellectual who went to parties and smoked weed “Like this. Perfect"

“Do you think we have to think of some backstory?” he asked and you looked at him with a frown. “You know, something about us. What degree are we studying, what are our names…”

"This is not a play"

"It's rude to eavesdrop on conversations, Prentiss," you said visibly annoyed, although looking at your partner that expression softened "As you wish, Spencer. Although being honest, I would say that you study… literature”

"Really?" he exclaimed with slight enthusiasm. You knew that his mother had been a teacher in the subject and you wondered if he had ever considered it.

“Morgan wasn’t wrong to choose those clothes for you. It suits you” you complimented him and Morgan whistled from the other end of the line. You felt like you were having too much fun for the situation you were in, but you needed to talk about something else to put off the reminder of what you had come to do for as long as possible. “I think you would have that hopeless philosopher/romantic vibe who flirts by whispering memorized poetry in your ear.”

“I actually know some good ones”

"Sure you do" you smiled gently, suppressing the thought of him sighing close to your neck at Bécquer "I'd probably study science or something."

"The unattainable scientist with whom the captain of the soccer team has a secret crush, but she is completely unaware"

"Where did you get that? From a 90s movie?

Spencer's laugh was one of your favorite sounds and today that was precisely not helping your situation. You felt intoxicated by how handsome he looked, like you'd discovered a side to him that no one else had, and the thought of kissing him made you tremble a little with anticipation.

“Do you want to share a beer?” he murmured, carefully opening the can and offering it to you first. You knew your partner wasn't the most enthusiastic about doing anything that involved germs, so it made you feel good that he took the lead. You took a big gulp of the drink to gather something of value and when it was his turn to drink he kept looking at you intently, you would even say that he seemed entranced.

You had made sure you were in a strategic position, with enough light for the unsub to see you and quite lonely, except for the patrol cars and the van that had been positioned at a safe distance.

“How does voyeurism develop?” you asked quietly, with genuine interest, as you shifted a bit to get closer to him.

“Voyeurism usually begins in adolescence and since during that age it is usually seen with greater tolerance, there are people who continue with these behaviors until adulthood. When voyeurism is pathological, they spend considerable time looking for opportunities to watch, often at the expense of not fulfilling important responsibilities in their lives, and people reach orgasm by masturbating during or after watching. Although if you think about it a bit, everyone is a bit of a voyeur."

"Why you said so?"

“Many men and women enjoy viewing pornography, which can be classified as voyeuristic behavior. It's not a worrying thing, but it's interesting to think about it” he explained, with those expressions on his face that he had every time he shared knowledge with you. He liked that about you, that you were always willing to listen to his data and statistics even at the most inopportune moments.

"I'm still a little scared that Oliver is trying to do something to us."

“I have my gun. If he tries to do something to you, I'll use it" you knew that killing the unsub was always the last option Reid considered, so you widened your eyes a little to show your surprise "All lives are worth, but when that life has already taken so many and it puts you at risk, I would not doubt it. You have nothing to worry about” he assured you and your heart warmed a little at feeling so protected.

"Do you know if Oliver attacks at a specific time?"

"No, he doesn’t. Just as we can be here for ten minutes, we can also be here all night."

You exhaled loudly, before taking another gulp of beer.

“Drink some, boy. I feel kind of selfish around here."

"I am nervous"

"And why do you think I'm drinking?" you exclaimed wryly, still holding out the can to him, and when he finally agreed he drank a little more than you expected “Have you ever…” you started to say, but suddenly remembered that literally the whole team was listening to you. If the answer was embarrassing, you didn't want to hear Morgan and Emily taunting you all week, so you covered your microphone for a moment and spoke again, but so quietly that only he could hear you. "I suppose you kissed someone, did you?"

"Yes," he said quickly and you sighed with relief. It comforted you a little to know that it wasn't his first kiss, because you didn't want him to have such a bad memory “Do I look so inexperienced?"

"No, that's not what I meant" you smiled "You're handsome, I know you've probably kissed a couple of girls"

"You don't need to tell lies, you know I'll kiss you anyway"

"But it's not a lie. I really think you're handsome" you confessed, gathering all the courage in you, while you smiled at him in the most serene way possible "And if we weren't literally waiting for a murderer, you know I'd be happy to do this with you"

"Smooch me?"

"Having this bad date attempt, Reid," you hissed, flushing red, as you slammed your palm into his forehead with just a little bit of force. Spencer seemed quite pleased that he made you nervous, rather than the other way around, so he grinned, “Though I think we should have brought food. I'm starving,” you pouted, swinging your dangling legs back and forth.

"That's not a picnic, Y/N"

You hated for a second that everyone was so intent on the conversation. A part of you wanted a moment alone with the brunette, even if it was in the midst of such a strange situation.

You began to talk pleasantly about things completely unrelated to the case for a couple of minutes, staying where you were, until Hotch's interruption made you jump a bit in place.

"Garcia intercepted an approaching trailer, get ready” your heart immediately sped up and you noticed him tense beside you, too, probably with the same thought flooding his head.

"Okay, come closer," you exclaimed, trying not to panic, as you spread your legs a little to allow the man to step into the space between. He wasted no time and just as you wrapped your hands around his shoulders you heard the sound of another car pulling up.

"Is that our unsub?"

"It is"

You were about to turn your head to peek when Reid grabbed your cheek and stopped you.

"He's smart. If you look at him, he'll realize it” he reminded you with a serious voice. You were so worried about everything that you were forgetting about your training “Okay, so I… Is it okay if I put my hands here?” he asked with a different tone, nervously placing both hands on your waist. You had always admired the size and anatomy of those hands, but until now you had not had the pleasure of feeling them on your body in this way.

“Tonight everything you do is fine. I promise"

"It would be a good time to start, he'll see you" Emily reminded you and you could only sigh shakily.

You two were adults, why were you so scared about kissing?

"Close your eyes" Spencer whispered to you, masking his nerves better than you "I'll kiss you, just close them," he asked you and you did.

You felt his body lean against you a little until his chest almost touched yours and then his lips shakily pressed against yours. You would always remember your first kiss, which in essence was such a brief caress that you didn't even know if it could be counted as one, the one where he wordlessly asked your permission to explore your mouth. Still with your eyes closed, you pulled him by the neck towards you and started a new kiss, a little more confident and deep this time, allowing you to savor the beer mixed with strawberries and that strange flavor that each person has.

“We…” you started to say, once you separated “you have to do it slowly, what he wants is a show” you exclaimed. Spencer felt unable to say any words and your hands caressing him so deliciously wasn't helping at all “Slow,” you repeated.

You arched your back a little to get even closer and when you finally looked up you met his caramel eyes. You needed a moment to recover and you unconsciously licked your lips, as if you needed to pick up and savor his presence in your mouth again, something that didn’t go unnoticed by his attentive look at your movements. 

It didn't take long for you to give up, as beginning the third kiss you felt that you no longer had any control over your body, your heart, or your mind. And while it was true that neither of you were experts on the subject, you guys managed pretty well as the seconds ticked by. Spencer gasped as he simultaneously felt you pull the hair from his neck and caress his lips with the tip of your tongue, while you were taken by surprise when his hands left your waist and lowered to the height of your hip, where his thumbs gripped firmly on the clip of your shorts.

There was a kiss, then another and another; they became too many to count. You didn't want to touch him anywhere and at the same time you wanted to touch him completely, in the grip of the fantasy that this was real and not just a performance. And even if you were aware that it was all fake, that would probably only have encouraged you to enjoy something to the fullest that you knew would never come back. Amid everything you didn’t know which of the two situations would be worse.

The sound of your lips colliding became so obscene that you were embarrassed, but you had no plan to stop. Your hands slid gently down the length of his neck until you reached his chest and cupped the soft cotton of his garment in your fists to make sure he didn't move away from you. The heat of the moment just went up and up, but a voice on the intercom brought you back with a jolt.

“He started the trailer. He's going to go"

Spencer closed his eyes in frustration, and you sighed. From the position he was in it wasn’t possible to get around him without being seen, so keeping all his attention was on you and him.

Maybe you weren't doing it right? You wondered what the hell this man wanted to see if you were practically eating each other, but suddenly you remembered that his motivation was even more sexual than a couple of wet kisses. Maybe he was getting bored because he needed to see that you were about to… well, do it.

"Take off my shirt," you said immediately, still too close to his swollen lips and looking right into eyes that seemed to be pitch black.

"Take... what?"

"Take off my shirt" you repeated, with a tone that made the man shudder completely. With the hands that were still holding his shirt you pulled him to you and he held his breath “And kiss me better. Like you really want me"

But Spencer didn't need to pretend that he wanted you. 

He made you completely dizzy when he began to kiss you so hungrily and you managed to keep enough composure when you felt one of his warm hands travel under your blouse, limiting yourself to letting out sighs that were drowned against his lips. But what finally caused you to let out an indiscreet and unwelcome moan was when he pulled you by the hip until you were on the edge of the tailgate and you could feel the growing bulge in his pants pressing against you. Spencer had almost managed to suppress his, but in the end, you having your own situation down there didn't help one bit. 

His trembling fingers fussed with the buttons on your shirt until it ended up somewhere on the floor at incredible speed, leaving you half-naked before him and the collection of FBI agents standing around. You might have been embarrassed if your brain could connect two coherent thoughts, but you'd lost that from the moment Dr. Reid first dared to kiss you.

You carefully guided his hands to the beginning of the curve of your breasts and now you both sighed in unison, feeling goosebumps on every inch of your skin. You pushed yourself forward just for the satisfaction of hearing that guttural sound again and your prayers were immediately answered, for it was enough for him to feel the slightest friction and he would go crazy. It was inappropriate to need him like that, but you couldn't help it.

Holding your lower back, he leaned over you and at the same time pulled you towards him until your breasts collided with his chest. In that position, your neck was exposed and your partner’s hot lips didn't hesitate to go down there, while you sighed agitated just at the height of his ear. Spencer asked you, between each kiss, to look in the direction of the trailer to see if he was still there and as you could you answered yes, which was victory enough for both of you.

As he could, he maneuvered to lay you down carefully on the cold metal of the truck without stopping kissing your neck, and by inertia you wrapped both legs over his hip. When you were hidden by the panels of the pickup he finally looked at you.

"I hope it's enough to get his attention," he said, sounding as agitated as expected, and although the circumstances meant that you two would be taking a break you flatly refused, pulling him back to kiss him.

That kiss did take Spencer by surprise and it was perhaps the sincerest of the night. It wasn’t as passionate as the previous ones, but rather it was loaded with softness and you would even say that a hint of supplication. You were begging for him not to stop, for the night to get stuck in an infinite loop where the two of you could kiss for eternity. And suddenly you felt how he, who had been so tense the whole time, completely relaxed against you, as if he understood exactly what you wanted to say. His hands came to rest on the sides of your head to be able to kiss you more comfortably and you dared to take him by the waist with the same care that you were kissing him, feeling even above the cloth the softness of his skin. 

And then he broke up with you. You feared you had done something wrong due to the suddenness of the movement and your frightened eyes searched his gaze for a sign of the reason, without finding anything. He just looked at you with something you couldn't describe, but that made you feel butterflies fluttering all over your stomach... and he stayed like that for a few seconds: just looking at you, as if he wanted to memorize all your features.

You opened your mouth to say something, but your words were drowned in a new kiss, totally different from the previous ones. Spencer was taking time with him, trapping your lower lip between his and sucking on it gently, pressing himself a little more against your body, sighing heavily into your mouth.

Your hand was already running up his side to make its way to his cheek just as screams filled the silence and you hugged him reflexively. The screams had come from Morgan, who had already moved across the park to take down the unsub and was now wrestling with him to get the knife out of his hand. Spencer hesitated for a moment if he should come over to help, but he preferred to hold you better against his body to protect you and wait for Emily to place the handcuffs on the man under her partner's knee.

From a distance you saw that he only brought with him, in addition to the knife, his camera, and a small backpack with some other murderous instruments that they managed to confiscate without any problem.

"All clear, we've got him," Hotch spoke over the radio. As you exhaled in relief too many emotions washed over you, combined with the adrenaline coursing through your body and the arousal still flowing into your crotch.

"Are you okay?" Reid's gentle voice called to you, as he pulled away to check with his eyes that everything was in order. His hair was messy and his lips were so swollen that it was almost painful to look at the image without launching yourself to kiss him again "My God, your shirt..." he said, completely embarrassed, as he bent down to pick up the garment. You looked him up and down and blushed when you noticed how tight his pants were, feeling your stomach turn a little. When he got up, he took the opportunity to look at your chest covered only by the black lace bra and a big gulp of saliva went down his throat.

You thanked him quietly and put your shirt back on, feeling the sneaky glances Spencer was giving you, just before Hotch walked up to you.

"How are you?"

"Very good, excellent" you stammered.

You could perfectly feel your swollen lips, the light sheen of sweat on your face, the heat flowing from all the places Reid's fingers had been, and the abundant moisture between your crossed legs.

After Hotch congratulated you on your performance, the two of you walked as best you could toward the rest of the agents, who were already placing Oliver on patrol. Another group was analyzing the trailer and they managed to pull out enough evidence about the murders that would be very useful in prosecuting the man.

"All good?" Emily asked in your direction, once things had settled down and the rest of the team had gathered in a circle by the van. You and Spencer just nodded at the question.

“I honestly think I'm going to need therapy after what I heard,” Dave murmured, so serious that you couldn't help but burst out laughing.

"Don't you even dare make fun of this"

“No, we won't. I'm just saying you guys seemed to be enjoying it there."

"That's supposed to be the plan, right?" Spencer said nervously, finally daring to look at you and looking away almost immediately as he smoothed his hair back.

Once your boss said you could retire you escaped in a patrol car as fast as you could, wanting to get home so you could take a cold shower and soothe what wasn’t satisfied by the man. You could hardly sleep that night, still haunted by the ghost of the kisses you received from your gorgeous coworker, and the next morning you hoped that double coffee would do the trick. But apparently you weren't the only one who thought so, because at the same time that you arrived Spencer Reid crossed your path.

"Hey," he said, in that high-pitched voice that came out when someone caught him off guard, "How are you?" 

"Fine, and you?"

"Fine too"

You knew that the two of you wanted to talk about what happened, but it only took one of you to have the courage to speak first. At the same time your phones rang indicating a message and you mistakenly assumed that it was JJ contacting you to announce a case. What was your surprise when you opened the file and found a collection of photos from the night before. You knew from Spencer's face that he had received the same thing.

"Garcia did you… did she send you the same evidence?"

"That's right," he said nervously. You had to admit that if Oliver had one quality it was that of a photographer: you were sensual and perfectly captured the desire that had existed between you. Well, the one you had pretended to feel… right?

Spencer held his breath as he came to a picture of you topless in which his hand was practically on your breast, immediately remembering how that had felt. He just hoped his memories didn't affect him too much or it would be embarrassing enough to walk into the boardroom with a boner.

"They're good," you said to the air and he suppressed a laugh "But I can delete them if that makes you feel uncomfortable"

“No, no, I… I think I want to keep them too. After all, the bureau will have them in the files as evidence of the case, I prefer to have access too”

"I just hope she doesn't send them to anyone else, I wouldn't want to see my bra photos going around."

“I'll tell Garcia, don't worry,” Spencer murmured, rushing to type something on his phone.

While you waited for him to type you took another look, feeling your whole body heating up again at the memories. A part of you was grateful to have such material in your custody.

"I never thought of being the protagonist of an erotic photo session and here we are," you said ironically.

“Speaking of which…” Spencer started to say, “Not the erotic sessions by any means, don't think I'm planning on inviting you to one or that, because it would be super weird and inappropriate, but I was thinking if… huh…”

“Sell them online? I thought so too, but it depends on how much profit there is. Garcia can help us find the highest bidder and not get charged for tampering with evidence."

"What? No!" he said, completely shocked, and you laughed because you got the reaction you expected with your joke "Why would we do that?"

“Just kidding, Reid. Those photos are something I prefer to keep to myself" you clarified and your smile made him feel shy "Seriously, sorry for interrupting you. What did you want to tell me?"

"What…? huh, yes, right. It's just that this morning I was thinking about what you said yesterday, about how under normal circumstances you would have liked to have a bad date with me, right? and it just kept spinning in my head, so I was asking if you wanted to go for a drink sometime. Not like a date, of course, I'm not saying it is if you don't want to. I can just be like… well, go get a drink. As friends"

Yesterday Spencer had practically eaten your mouth and now he was nervous about asking you out. So adorable.

“You're not doing this just as compensation, are you? because you know that it is not necessary…”

“I do it because I want to. And I want to believe that… that I didn't misunderstand what happened yesterday."

You no longer even cared that it was unethical to date team members, or that if things went wrong, you would probably go into the worst of depressions. What mattered to you was that Spencer was interested in you, even if he had implied it, and that he was asking you out alone with him. Just the two of you, with fun and alcohol involved, without gossipy colleagues or mortal danger.

"Then I'd love to, Reid."

“Wow, excellent then” he smiled, feeling lucky that you agreed “I know a great bar near here, the atmosphere is generally calm, I like it because they don't play loud music. What day is right for you?"

“I'm available any day you want” you responded genuinely, grinning from ear to ear just being around him. That was the effect Reid had on you.

It was stupid to try to deny that you were still attracted to him, especially since now you had a taste of what he could do with you. You wanted to kiss him again, of course, but you were also anxious to earn that completely adoring look you'd received the night before.

“Today?”

"Yeah, why wait?" you responded, more excited than you wanted.

“Hey, I didn't ask you, but I wanted to know if I didn't go overboard with you last night. I mean… did something bother you?”

It was a smart move, you could see it clearly. It was obvious that Spencer cared about you, but you also picked up on his intentions to find out if you were interested in him too. Well, that's how it was from your perspective, because that probably would have been your motivation being in his place.

Even if it wasn't the case, you weren't going to miss the opportunity to take a little advantage of the situation.

"The kisses on the neck were something he definitely didn't expect, but they weren't unpleasant at all," you assured him, feeling your cheeks heat up again. "Did it feel good to you?"

"It did"

"So everything's perfect," you murmured, shrugging off the matter. But you both knew you couldn't see each other in the office and acted as if nothing had happened.

Something had happened. Those kisses had only fueled the tension that had always existed between you but that you wanted to ignore.

"Do you want to go after work, then?"

“Sounds good to me”

Spencer gave you one last smile and then went to prepare his usual cup of sugar with a dash of coffee. All day you were thinking about him and more than once he caught you looking at him, but you didn't even care.

So, at nightfall, with a few drinks on you and more courage in your body, you finally confessed that kissing was something you had wanted to do for a long time. You almost didn't believe it at first, coming from him, but when you finally accepted it, it wasn't hard at all to rush at him and kiss him feverishly. And this time there did not impede for you to give free rein to your desires, which led you to the soft mattress in your friend's house and kept you awake until a few hours before dawn.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #dr spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #jason gideon #JJ #penelope garcía #david rossi #emily prentiss #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid smut

[the-modern-typewriter]

Hello! Would you be willing to write about someone who finds out that their roommate and childhood best friend is actually some kind of supernatural creature? Preferably m/m but its okay if you’d like to change the genders.

Have a nice day!!!

"You're...uh...wow."

Maybe Holden should be horrified, but all he could really do was stare, dumbly entranced. The staring wasn't that different to normal, if he was going to be really horribly honest with himself.

But Atlas also wasn't normally crouched near stark-bollocks naked in the middle of their dorm room. He didn’t normally have dark, gorgeous wings unfurling from his back. He didn’t normally stare at Holden with eyes that had gone from blue to literally black too. Hungry. Heated.

Holden hastily shut the door behind him before someone else on the floor saw.

"Are you, uh, okay, man?"

His best friend was, very clearly, not okay. His gaze tracked every small movement that Holden made.

"You," Atlas growled through his teeth. "Are not supposed to be here."

"Right. Yeah. Uh. My class was—" Holden lost his trail of thought as he continued to stare. "God,” he said, a little dizzy, “you look incredible."

Five-year old Atlas had been funny and brave. Nineteen-year old Atlas also had the absolute gall to be stunning on top of that. It was, frankly, terrible on a night out. On his own, Holden did okay. When he was standing next to Atlas though, more and more as the years passed by, he may as well have been a potato. He couldn't even hold it against anyone. He did enough trying not to stare himself.

But...he definitely hadn't noticed the wings before. He would have noticed wings, right? Even with that smile and those cheekbones to distract.

He realised, dazedly, that he'd drifted closer. One step, two step, three, until he was standing right over Atlas. Close enough to touch.

"Get out." Atlas sounded strained. "Now." His fingers – his claws – dug into the threadbare carpet.

Holden wanted to run his fingers through Atlas's blond hair. He wanted to kiss his parted lips, the line of his jaw, the beautiful curve of his throat. He wanted to touch every inch of Atlas that he could. He wanted Atlas's hands on him, sure and just as smitten as Holden had been for years, and he'd do anything, offer anything if—

"Holden."

The sharp snap of his name cleared Holden's mind a little. He shook his head and backed up. "Sorry. I—"

What the hell was he doing? Heat rose to his cheeks, mortified.

There were a lot of reactions one could have to seeing their best friend suddenly sprout wings, but Holden was pretty sure he wasn't supposed to just drool over his roommate like some kind of neanderthal. He'd done such a good job of not letting his stupid feelings impact their stupid friendship until stupid now too.

It wasn't like he'd never caught a glimpse of Atlas without his clothes before. It had never made him like – he would never have – but would it be so bad if he just—?

No. Something was definitely wrong.

Holden whirled around, heading back for the door. He'd opened it only a crack when Atlas's hand slammed down on it, shutting it again. The lock clicked as Atlas bracketed him with an arm on either side. They weren’t quite touching, but they were close enough that he could feel the heat of Atlas against his back.

He hadn't even heard Atlas move. His breath hitched.

Atlas groaned. He let his head thunk against the door, above Holden's left shoulder, as he drew in ragged gasps.

Holden heard him swearing and muttering under his breaths. He caught a few words that’s sounded suspiciously like ‘bloody scheming bastard vampires’ and a much more familiar ‘shitshitshit’.

Up close, Atlas’s new cologne was…was it cologne? Holden’s head felt cloudy again. He dug his nails into his palms, desperately shoving down the truly ridiculous urge to turn around and kiss Atlas immediately.

“What the hell is happening?” He squeezed his eyes shut. “You have wings. You have – I feel –”

“You’re supposed to be in class for the next three hours!”

“My class was cancelled,” Holden said. “Some last minute—”

Atlas caught hold of his hips, spinning him as if it was absolutely nothing, pressing him back against the door.

The bit of Holden’s brain that wasn’t too busy with oh, yes please reminded him that Atlas was not that bloody strong. He should not be able to do that. He always skipped the gym when Holden went, despite looking like that.

“What are you?” The obvious question finally penetrated the fog.

Atlas’s attention lingered on his lips, seeming…distracted.

“Incubus,” he murmured. He’d always had a nice voice, but in that moment, that word, it was like caramel. Sweet on Holden’s senses. “God, you’re pretty. Sharing a room was a terrible idea.”

It took a second for the actual response to register, let alone the rest.

Incubus.

“What?” Holden yelped.

It was all some elaborate joke.

(Atlas didn’t do pranks.)

It was impossible.

(Those wings looked very real, no matter how impossible they were.)

How had it taken 14 years for him to notice his best friend was an incubus?

(Did that mean he didn’t really have a crush on his best friend? It was just – what he was?)

Atlas’s fingers grazed just slightly beneath Holden’s jumper, blazing hot against the skin above his hips.

Holden asked no coherent questions whatsoever. He didn’t even manage an incoherent word. Every reasonable thing he should have been considering vanished in a haze.

His best friend was an incubus? Sure! Whatever. Nothing mattered except the fact that there was really far too much distance between them. Atlas’s mouth was right there and – Holden couldn’t have said which of them initiated the kiss, but it was ravenous and he was putty against the door. Head empty. All need and greed and wanting. He finally got to tangle his fingers into Atlas’s always annoyingly perfect hair and –

The lock clicked.

Faster than Holden could fully comprehend, the door was open and Atlas had bodily shoved him into the corridor. He landed sprawling and ungraceful on his butt.

He had a second to peer up, bewildered, at the look of absolute raw desire on Atlas’s face before the door slammed shut. The lock clicked again.

The texts pinged on his phone a moment later.

Don’t come back until I say so.

Will explain later.

Sorry.

Well, crap.

Holden pressed a hand to his mouth, catching his breath and his sanity with Atlas out of view. Then he went to the uni library to research everything he could about incubi.

By the time Atlas texted him that evening, he was ready.

#incubus #incubi #m/m #m/m romance #writing #story #ficlet #supernatural creatures #writeblr #writing snippet

[etheries1015]

Imagining Yuu being Lillias as first and last love.

Let's say he was gravely injured during the war, and you, a human, had snuck him away to tend to his wounds. (I like to imagine this in a scenario where in chapter 7 when they meet Lilia in the 'dream world', he retains those memories, only for it to loop back to the modern day, less than a reincarnation.)

You, knowing Lilia from NRC and being enamored with him for so long, obviously had no choice but to help their fae....friend. When he became gravely injured during a particularly difficult battle, He awakes and is immediately on guard. He never really trusted you and the others who suddenly came face to face with him, two humans, a beastman, and a fae-human hybrid. You were all suspicious to him, yet he couldn't help but feel a ting of familiarity in his heart the second his eyes met yours. He knew, by some force, you were different than the other humans; you were kind, caring, and worked on your lonesome rather than a group.

"Are you okay? Do your wounds hurt? I can change your bandages If you'd like. You have been out for only a few hours..." You pursed your lips, hands hesitating over his injured waist, "But...I understand if you rather me leave now. I just wanted to make sure you would be okay, you really took a hard hit."

He just stared at you with wide eyes and a rapidly beating heart. He came to realize you were truly no threat, and he honestly, owed you his life. He never thought he'd see the day; General Lilia Vanrouge allowing a human tend to his needs, he frankly felt rather pathetic at the notion of this being affecting him as much as they had. Since the moment they arrived at his camp, he knew you were trouble for his heart.

"There 's...no need," Lilia said, sitting up slightly grasping his covered wound with one hand and holding his other out for you to set the spare bandages to him. You nodded slightly and handed it to him, turning around and starting to walk out. Before you had reached the door, Lilia called out to you.

"Human," He said, causing you to turn around in surprise and tilt your head with anticipation of his next words, "Why...why aren't you like the other humans? Are you not betraying them by helping your enemy?" You sighed and shook your head, chuckling at a question that seemed obviously ridiculous to you. Your reaction had caused Lilia to furrow his eyebrows and frown.

"Because I have... a lot of love for everyone," You finally said, looking up with the most serene, sincere, and peaceful gaze he had ever seen, "I love Humans, I love Fae, I love beastmen...and.." You blushed slightly, "I love you, too." The general couldn't wrap his head around it- your comments seemed utterly ridiculous to him- you hadn't known him for long at all, it seemed you two had only met for a couple days at best and here you were already admitting your affections for the fae? Despite this fact, he could tell by your unwavering stance and confident voice, that you were not lying. He simply replied with a nod and dismissed you with a wave of his hand as he had done so with many of his subordinates, muttering a quick thank you before you exited the hut.

Lilia stared down at his hands where the bandages you handed him lay, his cheeks taken a rosy tint. The red-eyed Fae shook his head and wiped his brow beaded with sweat, scoffing in disbelief. Did he just fall for a human...? A human he hadn't even known for long yet felt like he knew a lifetime, at that, over some silly hopeful words? He couldn't deny the way his heartbeat sped up at your kindness, your gentle touch tingling across the skin you cared for, and his ears begging to hear more of your mellifluous voice. Taking a deep sigh, he felt a deep rooted resolve force him to stand upon his feet and chase after you- his heart yearning to learn more about this mysterious human that had somehow shaken him to his core.

However, he never could find you after that.

Queue modern time.

Lilia had well after a while understood he would never be able to find that human- he knew after decades you must have wound up dead. Yet he couldn't shake the feeling that you were around, somehow, somewhere, alive and living a happy life- yet he had no proof you were either dead or alive. He didn't particularly look very hard, either. You had given him conflicting emotions that he had never experienced before, yes, but he knew he had a duty to attend to. There were indeed nights where he re-played your words over and over again- eventually bringing him to his resolve of peace between humans and fae and finding solace in the idea of loving all creatures for what they were, just had you did for him when you saved his life with reckless abandon.

So the moment he lay eyes upon you when you stumbled upon NRC, he had the same exact feeling all those years ago rushing back to him all at once, as if he had been hit by a sudden train of emotions. His heart thumped and the sound of blood rushing overtook him overwhelmingly- There was no way, right? The human who saved him must have been long dead by then. It couldn't possibly be...

Then you said your name.

You had the same name, the same unwavering confident eyes, the same serene peace that he felt wash over him in that little hut during the years of war. He wasn't sure how, if this person who suddenly came to NRC was a long distant relative of that person, or if there was something else going on beyond his comprehensive skills. You were alive, your voice as beautiful and mysterious as you were all those years ago. He spent a considerable amount of time studying you, being by your side, trying to put together the puzzle piece by piece. Yet he surprised himself- he never knew, even at his old age, he could feel such vibrant emotions as strongly and just as beautifully as the first time he laid eyes upon you. He felt like that young general again- passionate, young, and this time without animosity and war to get in the way of his curiosity.

Perhaps it was old age getting the better of him making his mind warped into believing he had some sort of magical entity on his side bringing you back to him, or his old heart yearning for something he had never had before and had deeply regretted never experiencing; love. Whatever was going on, Lilia knew one thing for certain;

He would not let his chance slip away this time.

#lilia x reader #twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland fanfics #Lilia vanrouge #lilia #lilia vanrouge x reader #general lilia #general lilia x reader #twst lilia #twst lilia x reader

[luveline]

hi jade! may I request about spidergirl and miguel? I missed them so much. maybe that she never experience valentine's? and she didn't expect miguel to do anything since he doesnt seems like the type of romantic guy. BUTTT i dunno I just missed them dearly :(((

ty for requesting !! —miguel surprises his forgetful spidergirl!reader with a small gesture of his affection on Valentine’s Day.

“Like, purpose,” you say, running your fingers over the plush carpeting beneath you. “You have a divine purpose, and I’m your girlfriend.”

“I can’t hear you.” 

You raise your face. You can’t see Miguel, his body blocked by the white of the bed sheets in the way. “I’m just whining.” 

“Come and whine over here, where I can hear you.” 

You like his voice, so you listen. Not because he’s said it very kindly; he’s too bossy. You also like bossy, but that’s not the point. He shouldn’t always get what he wants.

“Do you not like being my girlfriend?” he asks conversationally, his broad back to you as he shakes the frying pan. He’s frying onion and potato for a tortilla española, a thick Spanish omelette made with ample oil. It’s your favourite of his many dishes, your mouth watering as you stand there. 

“It’s fine.” 

He reaches back for you and grabs at you blindly, though having a spider sense means he’s coordinated regardless. You slide under his arm, can’t believe you’re there —a few months ago he’d glare at you whenever you smiled at him, and now he’s holding you, pressing a slight of a kiss to your temple without a second thought. Though you’re sure now he’d been glaring because he was agitated to have a crush on, back then you’d thought he didn’t like you, which wasn’t half as fun. 

Still, you clocked on eventually. People who don’t like someone don’t usually spend so long looking at said someone’s lips. 

“Fine isn’t ideal.”

“You’re too clingy,” you say as you curl your arms around him. 

“I know,” he murmurs into your skin. “What do you want to drink this morning, mi hermosa?”

You can’t decide. Miguel makes you a tall glass of water, a similar orange juice, and a frankly audacious cup of hot chocolate. It’s thick enough to cling to your spoon as you stir it. 

“Alright,” you say as he puts your breakfast plate in front of you, “what did you do? You haven’t been this nice to me in ages.”

“Is that true?” he asks. 

He was sort of nice yesterday when he fixed your phone (though you're suspicious he’d only fixed it so you wouldn’t ask one of your Peters), and the night before he’d been angelic, but that was mutually beneficial. You still as he wraps his arms around you from behind, his face pressed to the side of yours, his lips a kind line. You close your eyes and lean back.

A softness touches your other cheek. You peek at it through a squint, tentative, less so when you realise the softness is the petal of a red rose, and the rose belongs to a beautiful bouquet. You breathe out a gasp of awe. The flowers are a stunning dark red and wrapped in glitzy holographic cellophane. You’ve never seen flowers that looked so pretty, petal edges thick and stems a fresh green. 

“For you,” he says. 

“For me?”

“Mm-hm.” He eases the bouquet into one of your hands. “Happy Valentine’s.” 

“Is that today?” 

“Yeah, that’s today.” He kisses the corner of your mouth. 

You fluster as he stands tall and moves away. Bouquet hugged to your chest, you turn your head to watch his movements carefully. “Miguel, I’m sorry.” 

“I’m not, carino.” 

He pushes the sleeves of his shirt up and grabs the two bowls left behind on the counter. You can smell the refreshing spice of the peppery gazpacho and the lemon of the salad as he lays it out in front of you. Your stomach growls, but there are more important things to address. 

“I had no idea–”

“I hardly expect you to know what hour of the day it is, I wasn’t expecting anything.” He sits down in the chair beside yours at the table. 

“So it’s February… interesting.” 

Miguel actually laughs as you shove the flowers down and throw yourself at him. “Don’t hurt yourself,” he scolds. 

“I love your laugh,” you say, clinging to him for dear life. “I love you, I love your face, I can’t believe you got me flowers, Miguel. Miguel–” 

“Don’t act like I never get you anything.” 

I just didn’t think you’d do something this romantic, you think. It’s not fair to him. You still have the pencil sharpener he made for you when you’d haunt the workshop unbidden to him. What had he said? Something like Bring it to me when it needs charging. Well, you never remember, and yet it’s never dead. He’s that sort of romantic. “Thank you,” you say. 

“Were you still of the idea that I don’t like you very much?” he asks, pulling you into his lap with an unblinking strength. His thighs are solid underneath you. 

“Oh, no, O’Hara, you like me too much.” 

“Really?” He laughs. 

“Really. N’ I like you ten times that much, and,” —he kisses your neck— “that’s why we’re in love.” 

He scoffs at your teasing tone, breath tickling the side of your neck. “The longer you sit here trying to apologise the cooler your cocoa gets. Don’t be sorry, yeah? I know you didn’t know.” 

“I’m not trying to apologise. I’m mad. You could’ve told me it was Valentine’s coming up but you didn’t. You wanted to make me look bad.” 

He hugs you close, arm held firm to the curve of your back. “That’s exactly what I was trying to do. You caught me.” 

You lean back. He holds you tight to stop you from falling as you wrestle with the bouquet, pulling one especially lovely rose from the bunch. “Happy Valentine’s, mi vida.”

“That’s cheating, and not even half the effort I put in.” 

You press it to his chest and look up at him with every ounce of affection you have for him: it winds him. He covers your hand on his chest, pulling it over his heart. 

“Forgive me?” you ask. 

He rubs your knuckles. “There’s nothing to forgive.”

#miguel and spidergirl reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara x fem!reader #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel o’hara fanfic #miguel o’hara fic #miguel o’hara drabble #miguel o’hara scenario #miguel o’hara blurb #miguel o’hara oneshot #spider-man: across the spider-verse #spider-man: across the spider-verse fanfiction #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x y/n #miguel ohara x fem!reader #miguel ohara #miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel ohara fanfic #miguel ohara fic #miguel ohara drabble #miguel ohara scenario #miguel ohara blurb #miguel ohara oneshot

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

katsuki’s been hovering around you for about 6 minutes now.

you had decides on a whim you wanted to bake some cookies, and since the holidays were coming up, now was the perfect excuse to. you were soon joined in the dorm kitchen by your grouchy boyfriend, who had just come back from his morning run.

you explained you were in the mood for cookies and he responds with a grunt. but then he proceeds to stay in the kitchen, awkwardly standing around looking at the cupboards and utensils like this is the first time he stepped foot in a kitchen before.

he then proceeds to just hover around behind you, staring over your shoulder like a child waiting to see if the cookies were done yet. you found it cute at first, but that constant scowl and scrutinizing look on his face makes you feel like you’re doing something wrong, and frankly it’s making you a little nervous and baking cookies should not be nerve racking !

“would you stop doing that ? i know what i’m doing” you snap your head to squint at him and he stiffens like he’s been caught, like he was being even remotely close to sneaky to begin with, which he wasn’t.

“m’not doin’ anything” he mutters defensively, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his sweats. “just lookin’ atcha. m’i not allowed to ?” he leans in so his nose is almost touching yours, that stupid little handsome smirk on his lips as his eyes fixate themselves on your lips before looking back up. you gulp, then you place your hand on his face and push him away lightly “you’re distracting me” you mutter, feeling your face grow hotter. he chuckles to himself before turning on his heels and leaning again the countertop.

it’s quiet for a second before you feel like calling him out as payback for teasing you “ is there a reason you’re still here ? you wanna lick the batter or something?” you quip teasingly and you snort when his face morphs into one of disgust “hell no.” he scoffs, looking at you before looking down at the batter you’re currently mixing the shit out of, screw whoever broke the mixer. “how long are ya gonna keep mixing that ?” his eyebrow raises in question

“until it’s good” you huff, taking a break from mixing to keep your fingers from cramping up. then you suddenly get an idea

“oh, suki~” you sing turning to look at him. he eyes you suspiciously, crossing his bulky arms across his chest and grunting out a suspicious “what do you want ?”

“well~” you start walking towards him, proceeding to wrap your arms around his middle and give him your best puppy eyes. his doesn’t budge but he squints at you even harder and you can basically feel him cave already “what?” he urged again.

“since you’re oh, so strong and handsome, could you please do me a favor and mix the batter for me, my handsome boyfriend?” you give him your sweetest smile and he scoffs, “what the fuck does being handsome even have to do with it ?”he mumbles. pink dusts his cheeks and he looks away from you, already feeling his resolve crumbling at your shallow praise. he hates how easily he gives in to you sometimes. you squeeze at his waist, he grunts “thought you said i was distracting you.”

you’re pouting at him, he sees it from the corner of his eye and he’s this close to blowing up. “that was before. you’d be helping me out lots now if you did this for me” you’re relentless, standing on your tippy toes to lean in close to his face cus he won’t stop leaning further away from you.

he could very easily just shove you off if he wanted to, but you have a feeling he doesn’t want to. you know he doesn’t want to when he closes his eyes shut and his eyebrows furrow and then he groans, letting his hands fall at his sides limply before glaring at you. “gimme the damn bowl.” he growls. you squeal, pressing kisses all over his face and a finisher one right on the tip of his red scrunched up nose, he grunts at you but gives you a light pat to the back, rubbing his warm hands up and down your spine. then he pinches you, you giggle. “thank you ‘suki.” he responds with a “yeah, yeah whatever.”

he grabs the bowl from your hands starts mixing..hard. letting off his aggression on the bowl like it was at fault for his weak will to deny you. you smile to yourself and turn to the cupboard so you could grab the decorations and of course, the chocolate chips.

you watch for a bit as your boyfriend mixes away, you’re watching how his toned arms flex and how the muscle of his arms tightens and tenses up, more specifically. one thing’s for sure, you’ll never get tired of his arms. you quickly turn away before he can catch you staring and teases you again.

you jump when he calls for you not even a second later “s’this good?” he asks gruffly, leaning forwards to show you his work. you feel your face warm as you squeak out a curt “yeah, looks good !” before taking the bowl back from him and turning right back around to reach for the baking sheet you had prepped. he’s none the wiser for a moment before a knowing grin crosses his face, he shakes his head.

you place everything down on the counter and sigh happily to yourself, feeling accomplished. you walk over to your grumpy boyfriend and place a sweet kiss to his cheek “you’re the best.” he clicks his tongue, muttering out a “tell me something i don’t know.” while the pink on his cheeks grows darker, you let out a giggle.

“you done with this ?” he asks lifting the spatula in the air for you to see, you offer him a simple “mhm” and a smile before turning back to the task at hand and watch from the corner of your eye as he places the spatula in the sink.

not before taking a lick of the excess batter still on it.

your head shoots up and you stare, he stares back. then you let out a loud belly laugh and clutch your stomach “so you were just here to lick the batter !” katsuki only grunts. there’s a light smirk on his face as he licks away a speck of cookie dough batter off his lips. he shrugs, walks up to you and places his head on your shoulder.

“figured i deserve a little somethin’ for my hard work.” you roll your eyes. his hold on you tightens and he huffs, trying to get as comfortable as he can while still standing up as he simply watches work.

“hmm..” you decided to humor him “ you did help a lot, i think i can give you a little more" you look at him from your shoulder just in time to catch his eyebrow raise as he registers what you said, a smirk playing on his lips when he does. he readjusts his head to look you in the eyes.

“yeah ?”

“mhm..” you hum. his grip tightens, his hands feel warmer.

“whaddya have in mind then, huh ?” he whispers. he’s so close and you can smell your body wash, probably because he keeps stealing it but you keep quiet about that for now.

“i dunno..” you trail off shyly, your confidence melting away under his smoldering gaze. “would…a smooch suffice ?” you giggle. he chuckles to himself at your choice of words. he grabs the back of your head softly, pulling you in closer until your noses brush against each other and he gives you a half hearted little eskimo kiss, you giggle and he smiles a little wider.

“s’a good start” he concludes before pressing his lips to yours.

#pls have this while im workin on pt 2 for dragon man bkg <33 #ITS OTW YALL ITS LONG TOO I PROMISE #but anyways i like this one alot actually ! #not proofread will fix later #hes my silly #love my boyfriend #bakugou imagine #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo fluff #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugo x oc #bakugou drabble #bakugo x reader #bakugou fluff #katsuki bakugo fluff #bakugo x you #bakugo x y/n #merry chrysler #to those who celebrate #<3

[velocesainz]

Le reali

(CS55)

F1 masterlist | main masterlist

summary: Carlos hasn't publicly dated anyone in over 3 years and people get suspicious. He tries to tell his friends that he's dating the heiress of Italy but they don't believe him until a special moment.

Warnings: None, cursing?, fluffy

Pairing: Carlos x Italian!princess!reader

Carlos showed the entire text chain to y/n and as she scrolled through the responses bursted into laughter at lando's response to Carlos.

"Love, I wasn't pissed. I was just annoyed that he was feeding into rumours. Poor Lando must've been scared out of his wits" y/n told Carlos.

Carlos chuckled "Lando deserves to be scared out of his wits from time to time darling. How else would he function effectively and not spill our secret in front of the entire world?" he told y/n

"I guess you're right" y/n laughed.

"Amore?" Carlos called out to y/n

"Si, Corázon?" Y/n replied adjusting in the bed to meet his eye.

"Do you ever want to go public? I mean I'm not forcing you to go public, just asking. We've been together for 3 years now" Carlos asked with a thoughtful and soft expression on his face.

"Of course Corázon, I would love to. Do you want to maybe go public on the day of the Monza GP? I've already gotten an invite and will be giving out the trophies" y/n replied with a soft smile.

"That would be absolutely wonderful amore" Carlos said softly and held her close.

Timeskip:

"Ready to go sis?" y/n's brother asked her as it was time to leave for the GP

She was only going to go for the race day otherwise it would seem suspicious to the public and they wanted to be extra careful.

"Yea yeah let's go" Y/n called out grabbing her brothers hand and getting into the car.

She was more than ready to reveal to the world her relationship with the love of her life

Meanwhile: (Carlos Pov)

"Mate is your girlfriend ever going to come or are you just pranking us all?" Charles asked me while everyone was waiting around in the paddock for y/n to come.

"Yea mate, no shame in saying you haven't been able to get girls for the past 3 years. At least don't live in the delusion that the direct heir to the Italian throne is your girlfriend."

Nobody believed me except Lando since he's met her but everyone thinks me and him are pranking them together.

I would get my sweet sweet revenge.

But deep down I was scared. I was planning to propose to her soon. If I got on the podium today, I would propose and I've never been more scared for a race in my life.

Her entire family would watch me race for their country and would also find out about our relationship because she was very private and didn't share even with her family. Would they approve of me? Would they force me and her to break up?

Just then her family walked into the paddock and everyone immediately stood up and greeted the family but she was not in sight.

"So Prince b/n how do you feel about your sister dating our friend over here?" Fernando asked her brother and dragged me into his view

"Dating? I wasn't aware that my sister was dating anyone. That too with a commoner? Not expected." Her brother replied and my heart slowly sank to my stomach.

The rest of the grid came up to me.

"See Carlos? How would you be dating Prince y/b/n's sister without him knowing? Stop living in your delusion" Max said

"Mate such delusion isn't good for you at all. You should start seeing the team therapist a little more" Charles added.

The rest of the grid exchanged glances of amusement and worry while Lando came over to me.

"Don't worry Carlos, I believe you. Don't listen to them. You and Y/n have a beautiful relationship and she told me that she didn't want to inform her brother of her relationship status since she, frankly, hates him" Lando told me and I felt slightly better.

but her brother didn't approve of me, why would the rest of her family? I was internally panicking when Y/n's father King f/n came up to me and took me aside

"So you're the lad dating my daughter huh?" He asked me

"Si señor, I love Y/n with all my heart" I responded slightly nervous about his response

"She made a good choice, how long have you both been together? She didn't give me many details" He asked

"We've been together for 3 years senor. We met when I was invited to the royal house for my medal" I replied feeling better that at least her father approved of us

"And no proposal?" He said with a smirk on his face

"I was planning on proposing to her if I get on the podium for the race today and also wanted your blessings señor" I answered

"Good good. I've seen that she's been much happier around the palace ever since she started dating you. She truly loves you and you have mine and her mother's blessing. May you both be forever happy together" with that he left as I the race was about to start.

I gave Ricciardo my ring box and gave him all the instructions before getting into the car.

After the race:

I couldn’t believe it.

I had won in Monza.

The crowd was going absolutely wild as I got out of my car and the mechanics lined up outside tapping my helmet congratulating me.

I felt like I was in a dream.

I looked over to the vip box and I saw y/n in all her glory.

The look of admiration she had and her soft smile made me fall for her all over again.

That was when I knew nothing else mattered.

It didn’t matter to me that her brother didn’t approve of our relationship. It didn’t matter to me that my friends didn’t believe my relationship.

I had her and that was all that mattered.

The podium ceremony came quickly and y/n’s brother gave out the p2 and p3 trophies.

Then came my turn and y/n walked into the podium with the most elegant red dress I’ve ever seen.

She looked absolutely ethereal and I couldn’t wait for her to be mine forever.

She handed me the trophy and I raised it over my head after which I leaned in to kiss her.

The crowd went absolutely wild when they saw the scene.

I took the ring box from Ricciardo and got on one knee and I saw tears welling up in her eyes.

“Y/n. You have made me the happiest person these past 3 years and it would mean the world to me if you were with me for the rest of my life. Y/n m/n l/n will you marry me?” I asked her pouring the emotions out.

“Yes Carlos! Of course I’ll marry you” she said and hugged me tight.

I slipped the ring on her finger and we kissed once again.

Timeskip:

“Hey Carlos, sorry about all the comments we passed. We really couldn’t believe that you were actually in a relationship with the princess of Italy. We apologise for our actions” Charles apologised to me on behalf of the rest of the grid

“It’s ok mate, I myself can’t believe that I bagged a literal princess” I laughed

Y/n came back to me and it was time for us to leave.

In the car y/n sat leaning her head against my shoulder

“Our wedding is going to be one of the most celebrated occasions in Italy you know? They’re going to keep it as a national holiday and it will be broadcasted live on tv for everyone to see. Are you sure you’re ok with that?” She asked me in a soft voice

“Of course amore , as long as in the end I get to be with you. I’m ready to do anything.”

A/n: hope you guys enjoyed this fic. Took me a while to come up with it. Would appreciate feedback and suggestions. Also please send me any requests you have! Kissies ✨

#f1 #f1 x reader #f1 angst #formula 1 #formula one #f1 smut #carlos sainz x reader #lando norris #charles leclerc #carlos sainz #carlos sainz smut #cs55 x reader #cs55 #cs55 imagine #carlos sainz x y/n #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz angst #carlos sainz au #carlos sainz fluff #carlos sainz fanfic

[luviemax]

you are in love- oneshot

a/n: hi pals how r we doing today... my rent is due (metaphorically) inspo from mother's song

masterlist

-> charles leclerc x childhoodbestfriendfemale!reader (no physical description)

warnings: small teensy tiny age gap (like two years), probs some cursing, google translated french.... not proofread :(

word count: 1283 words

He can't remember the first time he met you.

Not exactly. He does know how it happens, though, as his mother constantly likes to constantly remind him.

"You were two," Pascale muses, cutting into the pancakes she was having for breakfast.

"Maman." Charles pleads with a tinge of exasperation in his voice, having heard this story so many times.

"Charles, don't interrupt me." she shoots him playful glare as Arthur smiles behind his cup of coffee that he's sipping. It's quite obvious that he finds this entire debacle quite entertaining.

"Yes Charles," Arthur nods in mocking agreement, "I quite like this story, maman." He shoots Charles a cunning smirk as the dimples in his cheeks begin to pop out.

"Yes, as I was saying," Pascale takes a moment to gather her thoughts, "Charlie, you were only 2... but you were so gentle with her..."

Pascale goes on and on, fawning about how he was so gentle with the little baby girl, the newborn baby of his godmother, and one of his mother's dearest friends. Your name felt foreign on his tongue when he was first introduced to it, like a new word added into his little dictionary, but it was a name that he would come to know, recognise, and even love.

"Maman, I'm leaving!" Charles announces to the house after breakfast, grabbing his car keys.

"Going to see Y/N?" Pascale playfully teases.

Charles smiles so hard at the thought of you that his dimples began to crease in his cheeks. "You know it."

He drives to your flat in mostly silence, besides the roar of the Ferrari's engine, and the dreadful drone of the radio hosts over the car's stereo. Traffic is slow and congested, which should be frustrating for someone who drives at over 300 km/h on a near weekly basis, but the reward at the end of the road (which happens to be you) makes it all the more worth it.

People seem to be suspicious of your relationship, though. But it's nothng more than what it is, a purely platonic bond between two childhood, contrary to what gossip accounts or news articles say. Some of his friends don't believe him either.

Carlos simply gives him an unbelieliving smile and quirks an eyebrow, but puts the matter to rest when Charles expresses his annoyance with a roll of his viridescent eyes.

Joris constantly bugs him about it. Taunts of: "Are you sure you don't like her Charlie?", "Charlie... are you texting her?" and "Charles, fess up! Just tell me the truth, you like her!"

Frankly, he's sick and tired of it. Even if he did like you, so what? Was that really anyone's business, either way? Nevertheless, any ounce of anger he was harbouring simply dissipates into nothingness when he sees you.

You grace him with a beautiful smile when you enter his car. You greet him with kisses on his cheek and a warm hug. Through all these years, he swears that the thing he looks most forward to when he sees you is your hugs.

They're warm, like walking into a bakery with freshly baked pastries. They make him happy like a Grand Prix win.

The two of you aimlessly drive around until it was time for dinner. He brings you to his favourite pizza place, and the two of you split a pepperoni pizza.

"Don't tell my trainer about this." Charles makes you promise with a boyish smile.

"I promise." You let out a chuckle at the trivial situation at hand. Within your company, the two of you don't really need to talk a lot. Wordlessly, after knowing each other for so long, the silence says enough by itself, and is enough to make the both of you comfortable. After finishing dinner, you follow him back to his apartment. He insists for you to stay over for the night, and you don't debate it.

"Here," Charles mindlessly passes you a shirt that he no longer wears, "for you to sleep in." he clarifies. You make a noncomittal sound and give him a brief nod in response.

After you've showered, you put on his shirt, and the first thing you notice is how it smells like him. His laundry, his cologne, his shampoo... You're a little overwhelmed, but in a good way. "You're not getting this shirt back." you warn him as you come out of the shower. "Fine by me." He laughs, passing by you as he enters the bathroom.

You make yourself comfortable in his bed. You slip under the blanket, which encompasses you in a warmth which couldn't possibly be recreated at your own house. It's funny how you still feel more at home at Charles' apartment than your own.

You're still in his bed, mindlessly scrolling through social media, when he comes out of the shower. "Okay, what're we watching?" he asks as he makes himself at home on the opposite side of the bed. The two of you mutually decided on watching Cars for the billionth time. Yet, from your peripheral vision, you notice him looking at you with a foreign expression. You fake a yawn, and turn off the TV.

"Good night, Charlie." "Good night, Y/N."

He switches off the lights in his bedroom, and you make yourself comfortable.

"Y/N?" "Yes Charlie?" "You're my best friend." The statement makes you smile, and you fall asleep with a wide grin on your face.

The next morning, you wake up, and you're somehow entangled with Charles. Your legs are intertwined, his arms are carressing your waist, and your face is burried in his neck. You simply wiggle into his touch, and it makes him stir.

"Good morning." He whispers, voice raspy from sleep. "Morning." You chastely reply, voice muffled from speaking into his neck.

Much to your dismay, he untangles himself from the mess of cuddles and bedsheets. He leaves the bedroom, leaving a chaste kiss on your forehead as you fall back into the lull of sleep.

You wake up to the scent of something burning. The charred scent lingers in the air, presumably from the kitchen, so that's where you go.

"Mon coeur," my heart he croons, sheepish expression on his face, "I'm sorry. I was trying to make breakfast." He helplessly gestures at the burnt toast, which was now in the bin.

You give him a laugh. It makes his cheeks flush. He wishes that he could bottle up your laugh, keep it in a safe, and just listen to it whenever he pleased. He swears that your laugh is more beautiful than the melody of Clair de Lune, or the roar of the Tifosi during a Monza win.

"Come dance with me." Charles gives you a silly smile. "What?" You respond, furrowed eyebrows emphasising your perplextion. "C'mon!" He urges, putting classical music record onto the vinyl player.

Just then, as the two of you are dancing in his living room bright and early in the morning, he knows that he's in love with you.

He knows when you're dancing and you're smiling and you're laughing and Charles could swear that you're the most perfect thing to ever exist.

You commit the most heinous of crimes and he swears that he could defend you to the Earth and back.

He holds you in his arms, and he kisses you.

It takes you aback, just for a moment.

Then again, his lips feel perfect against yours. It's like they were made for you.

Then your lips part, and he rests his forehead against yours.

He chuckles, and he speaks against your lips, "You're mine, yeah?"

You nod, "I've always been yours."

"Damn it, I owe Joris 50 Euros." He laughs.

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fluff #cl16 #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc x you #f1 x reader #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagine

[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

Left at the Altar - Hangman

Pairing: Hangman / (Ex-Girlfriend) Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Light Angst; Drama; Getting Left at the Altar (Not by Hangman); Asshole Ex (Not Hangman); Second Person POV ("You"), No Y/N, No Physical Description for the Reader

This work, all of my other works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only.

Summary: When you get left at the altar, a familiar face swoops in to save the day.

Edit: Part 2 Part 3 Epilogue

Master List

Ever hit rock bottom? Well, you thought you did. And then you got stood up at your own wedding.

Staring up at the altar, you slowly sat down in the front pew. You sat your bouquet down beside you and reached up to pull out the pins holding your veil in place. You definitely weren’t going to need them. Not after the text message that you received from your ex-fiancé.

That’s right. You got dumped on your wedding day through a text message.

And frankly, the part about the whole situation that annoyed you the most was the fact that you should have been the one to dump him. You were the one who threatened to call the wedding off months ago when you found some suspicious text messages between your fiancé and a woman labelled as ‘Domino’s’ in his phone.

As if anyone texted Domino’s about their secluded lake house.

You should have just pulled the plug on the whole thing when you had the chance. Instead, you let him dump and humiliate you publicly.

Taking a deep breath, you glanced around the small church. Most of the guests filed out when it became apparent that there was a runaway groom. All of the people that remained in the church were a few close friends and immediate family members.

Your ex-fiancé’s family stood awkwardly in the corner, not really sure what to do. There wasn’t a really good or efficient way to apologize for their cowardly bastard of a son without suffering some rather intense glares from your family and friends. You already gave the engagement ring back to your ex-fiancé’s mom, since it was supposedly a family heirloom.

Maybe you should have just flushed it down the toilet instead.

You looked forward again when your mom walked over to you. She gave you a small, comforting smile as she pushed your veil and bouquet to the side and sat down beside you. Your mom stared up at the altar for a moment, seemingly walking through what she was going to say to you. She reached out and grabbed your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“It’ll be okay, sweetie,” she whispered to you. “You’ll get past this.”

“I know,” you replied, nodding slowly. “I know, Mom.”

“Do you need anything?”

“No,” you replied softly, shaking your head. Letting out a breath, you turned back to your mom with a composed expression. “Why don’t you and everyone else go and eat at the venue? It’d be stupid to let all of that food go to waste. We already paid for it.”

“Actually, his family offered to pay for everything. Even your dress,” your mom explained, glancing over at your supposed-to-be in laws. “They were extremely embarrassed.”

“Can’t imagine why,” you drawled sarcastically, shaking your head. You let out a breath before you turned back to your mom. “Has Dad calmed down?”

“Somewhat. He calmed down a lot when they offered to pay for everything. But I worry for your ex if he ever crosses paths with your father again.”

“If he’s smart—which he’s not—he’ll avoid the entire county,” you replied, pursing your lips together. “He’s probably sitting at his lake house with ‘Domino’s’ right now.”

“That’s unfortunate for him,” your mom told you, causing you to nod in return.

“Damn straight.”

You and your mom shared a small smile before you sobered up for a moment. Glancing around the church, you leaned back in your pew. You turned to your mom and suddenly felt like you were a teenager again and needed her to help you with a situation that you got yourself in.

“Do you think that I could be alone for a bit?” you asked softly, folding your arms across your lap.

“Are you sure? I don’t think that you should be alone right now, sweetheart,” your mom replied, grabbing your hand. “Why don’t you just come to the venue with the rest of us? You can burn the dress if you want to, but just come with us.”

“I will, Mom, but I just need some time by myself for a little bit.”

Albeit reluctantly, your mom got up and ushered everyone else out of the church to give you some time alone. The venue was only ten minutes down the road, so your mom told you to just text her when you wanted to be picked up. You thanked her again for all of her help and support before she left with everyone else.

You slowly got to your feet after you thought that everyone else was gone. You let out a breath to calm yourself down and simply worked through some thoughts. Eventually turning for the aisle, you paused when you spotted a familiar figure walking through the church doorway.

Jake Seresin. Or Jacob Michael Seresin III, if you were going by his birth name. Or Hangman, as he supposedly went by these days. Lieutenant Jake “Hangman” Seresin.

The boy that you fell in love with when you were fifteen. Your high school boyfriend, your first love, your first everything, really. The man that, had he stayed in Texas and taken over his family’s business like he was expected to do, you probably would have already married.

But life wasn’t a fairytale. And certainly not your life.

Jake slowly walked further into the church, pulling off his dress white cap as he stepped forward. He tucked it under his arm and offered you a small smile as he stopped in front of you. His hair was perfectly gelled and styled and his dress whites were absolutely pristine. And that genuine smile, the one that he seemed to use less and less as he aged, was just like you remembered.

He looked like he stepped straight out of a dream. Out of your dream.

“I’m not too late, am I?” he asked, looking around the otherwise empty church.

“No,” you scoffed, shaking your head. You glanced up at the rafters before turning back to him. “I got left at the altar.”

Instantly, the kind, genuine smile dropped from Jake’s face. His whole demeanor changed in an instant. He frowned and opened his mouth before pausing, most likely trying to not just blurt out the first words that came to mind in a church. But his entire stance looked like he was ready to storm out of the church to drag your fiancé out of whatever hole he was hiding in.

“He didn’t show up?” Jake asked with his voice dangerously low.

“No, he sent me a text,” you explained quietly. Letting out a laugh that was meant to be humorous, but was really rather pathetic in reality, you looked away from Jake for a moment. “I mean, at least I didn’t marry him. It could be worse.”

“Where is he then?”

“Somewhere, anywhere,” you replied honestly, pursing your lips together. “Frankly, I never want to see him or hear his name ever again, so I could care less.”

“Still, he shouldn’t get away with doing this to you,” Jake stated seriously.

It had a level of force behind it that you knew wasn’t directed towards you. More like on your behalf than anything else.

Hell, Jake had always been protective over you and more than willing to fight for you. He wasn’t someone who kept a lot of close friends, but when anyone was within Jake Seresin’s inner circle, he would fight for them with everything that he had. And you knew that the state of your relationship didn’t impact that.

“He’s not worth the trouble,” you stated, waving your hand to the side. “And besides, I’d really just like to move on from all of this. If I can.”

“Of course, you can,” Jake spoke softly, reaching out to take your hand. “He’s just a . . . I can’t say the word that I want to say because we’re standing in a church.” You laughed and shook your head at Jake. “But either way, it’s his loss.”

“Thanks Jake.”

“I’m serious. I mean, any guy who looks at you, especially when you’re in that dress . . .” Jake trailed off, letting his eyes rake over your form, “. . . and doesn’t hope to be the guy standing there, waiting for you at the altar . . . he’s not worth your time.”

You felt your heart flutter in your chest, just like it used to whenever he would wave to you in the hallway between classes when you two were teenagers. And staring into Jake’s bright green eyes, you knew that he meant every word that he spoke. Rocking your joined hands back and forth, you tried to settle the wobble in your lips.

“I didn’t want it to be him,” you stated honestly, causing Jake to noticeably pick his head up. “He . . . I gave into the pressure that I should be married and moving into that stage of my life by now and . . . I should have never agreed to marry him in the first place.”

Jake nodded slowly and turned to look at the ground. A moment passed where he seemed to be trying to compose himself before he slowly picked his head up again.

“Who did you want it to be?” Jake asked softly, so softly that you didn’t hear it the first time.

“What?”

“Who did you want it to be?” he repeated, picking his head up and staring deeply into your eyes. “Waiting for you at the altar, I mean.”

Your breathing subtly picked up and your lips parted a bit at Jake’s question. And the intensity of his stare that made your entire body feel like it was on fire. Slowly and tentatively reaching out, you gently cupped Jake’s cheek with your hand and rubbed your thumb across his soft skin.

“My answer hasn’t changed,” you stated quietly as emotion started to clog your throat. “It never has.”

The two of you naturally leaned towards each other. Your bodies seemed to naturally fit together as you pressed up together. The two of you slowly leaned in until your foreheads rested together. And when he was standing this close, you could pick out all of the different colors in his eyes, which were staring down at your lips.

Gently cupping the back of your neck, Jake pulled you in for a soft kiss. Your lips moved together like they had never been parted in the first place. Not by school or deployments or life in general. For much of your adult lives, the issue was never your feelings for each other but everything else getting in the way. But right there, in that small little church in rural Texas, life wasn’t in the way.

Nothing and no one were in the way. Not anymore.

Jake dropped his hat and wrapped an arm around your waist to pull you closer. You wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders and cupped his cheek once again, guiding your lips together. It probably would have gotten you disapproving looks if anyone else was around, but for that perfect little moment, it was just the two of you.

Pulling away a few moments later, you rested your foreheads against each other’s and smiled to yourselves. Breathing a bit heavily, you trailed your fingers down Jake’s cheeks as he brushed his nose against your own.

“When do you have to leave?” you asked quietly.

“Tomorrow morning,” Jake sighed, clearly sounding disappointed. “I could barely get any time off. I actually owe Coyote a laundry list of things because he covered for me.”

“Then we shouldn’t waste any time,” you replied, trying to look on the positive side.

About ten seconds later, you and Jake hurried out of the church hand-in-hand. Jake’s rented truck was the only car in the parking lot and you both quickly made a beeline for it. Jake unlocked and opened the door for you to climb inside. You sat down and Jake hurried to push the rest of your dress inside before shutting the door.

You pulled him in for another excited kiss as he slid into the driver’s seat before Jake started his rented truck to drive the two of you to the hotel. As Jake backed out of the parking lot, you sent your mom a quick text, which was just a simple photo of Jake.

“Do you have the directions to the hotel?” Jake asked, turning back around and heading for the road.

“Yeah and the confirmation, so we can actually check in,” you mused, smiling over at him.

As Jake pulled out onto the road, you got a text back from your mom. You let out an amused noise and shook your head when you read her message.

Don’t forget protection. Or do. I wouldn’t mind a grandbaby if you two agreed on one. Love you!

You sent your mom a quick ‘love you’ text back before turning off your notifications. Jake reached out and grabbed your hand, threading your fingers together. Jake pulled your hand up to his lips and pressed a kiss to the back of your hand.

And even though this wasn’t how you expected your wedding day to go, you had to admit that this outcome was actually far better than the one you that had in mind.

Part 2 Part 3 Epilogue

#hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #hangman fanfiction #hangman top gun #top gun: maverick #top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction #top gun #jake hangman imagine #jake seresin #jake seresin imagine #jake hangman fic #jake hangman x you #jake hangman seresin x you #hangman x you #jake seresin x you #hangman seresin #top gun hangman

[bisexualiteaa]

Getting interrupted 🤭

CW: smutty 18+! Suggestive themes, light mentions of/implied smut, getting caught, possible errors and possible OOC scenarios. Otherwise, enjoy! 🥰

John "Soap" MacTavish

- he was a sucker for someone in uniform, so it was no surprise that he would come and constantly visit you down at medical where you worked. It's how you both met and got together after all, so despite the pain and occasionally bad memories that came with it, it still held a place in his heart because you were there.

- he'd never admit it, but sometimes he would get himself hurt on purpose just to visit you, he always loved to see the smile on your face as you would shake your head and rest your hands on your hips before fixing him up perfectly, always having the cure to his every injury or ailment.

- sometimes these were the only moments where he'd get a chance alone with you, enjoying the way you'd always make a little time for him to talk and enjoy each others company for a little while afterwards.

- no one knew you guys were together, everyone knew he had a crush on you because, quite frankly, he wasn't very good at hiding it, but he didn't really want to either. But for the sake of your job, he didn't want to reveal anything should it get you in trouble.

- "you never stay out of trouble, do you?" You asked with a playful grin as you'd just finished stitching up a small gash on his arm. "If I stayed out a trouble, I'd never get the luxury t' see you" he replied with a flirty tone, making you chuckle. "Just be more careful please, I need you in one piece" you replied, kissing his cheek as you sat next to him, having just patched up his arm. "I will, don't worry your pretty head lass, I'll always come back t' you" he assured, making you smile and hum in appeasement before you leaned in, pulling him into a soft, loving kiss. His hand came to cup your cheek as you held his other one in your own, fingers intertwined as you shared in your moment together. When you two were alone together, the world finally felt at peace, no wars to think about, no stress weighing down on you, all you needed to think about was your Johnny.

- So it was no shock that your kiss took a turn to something a little deeper, a sigh leaving you as your free hand rested on his collarbone. "Careful bonnie, go on like tha' and I'll be walkin' outta here with a whole different problem" he said, making you giggle. "Wouldn't half mind fixing that either, too bad you don't know how to keep quiet" you quipped with a grin, making him laugh at your remark. "Cheeky bugger" he replied with a matching grin before pulling you in again, kissing you as if tomorrow you'd be gone.

- But sadly, even the best moments must come to an end, neither of you were expecting the way it had however.

- "Sorry to bother doc, got room to squeeze in a- woah!" Spoke Gaz as he pulled back the curtain, seeing your form loomed over the side of the exam bed, kissing his comrade. You gave a short gasp as you both jumped apart, blushing wildly after being caught red handed. "Shit, I'm SO so sorry!" You spoke, bumping into your cart in your panicked frenzy as you tried to back away and button your uniform back up as to not look suspicious, but it was already too late.

- "Sorry Gaz, appointment got prolonged. Doctors, am I right? Gotta poke around an' check everywhere for some reason" Johnny spoke, nervously rubbing the back of his neck with a slight blush but trying to joke his way out of things, as per usual. Gaz gave a chuckle. "Explains why you come down here so often. Here I thought you were just trying to get a good record built up for disability, didn't know you had a Dr. Feel Good situation goin' on" he teased with a grin. "I'm gonna get in so much trouble.." You muttered, holding your face in your hands out of embarrassment. "Relax doc, your secret's safe with me. I promise. It's about time you finally went for" Gaz assured you before offering a genuinely happy smile to Johnny. "I know all to well of the draw of the uniform myself" he added, looking towards one of the other doctors, her offering a giggle and flirty wave his way. "Well I'll be damned" Johnny spoke with a chuckle. "And looks like she's got an opening, so you two just earned yourself some more alone time" Gaz said, making you and Johnny both chuckle. "I owe ya one" Johnny spoke before Gaz walked away, turning back to you as you closed the curtain again, alotting you both some privacy for just a little bit longer.

König

- You were in his room, laying in bed together, enjoying the time alone after months of him being away.

- It started out innocent enough, just enjoying a movie together, but one innocent kiss turned to two, and when wandering hands found their way down your sides to your ass, playful giggles soon turned to quiet moans and it wasn't long before things turned just a little more heated.

- You were on top of him, straddling his lap as his kisses began littering down your neck, his large, rough hands at your hips moving you back and forth against him. A quiet moan and sigh fell from you, both of you doing your best to keep quiet as not to raise suspicions.

- "How I missed you, schatz" he told you, making you smile with drunken love in your eyes. "Missed you too, Kö" you replied sweetly, your lips now trailing down his neck to his bare chest in a way that he swore injected fire straight into his veins.

- You were topless as you sat there straddling him, indulging in one of those moments of kissing one another deeply, only stopping at the feel of each other smiling before resuming. Light, breathy giggles and quiet sighs of pleasure leaving you as you both were caught up in the heat of the moment.

- That was when you both heard the knock at the door, making you both jump. "Shit" you said quietly but in a panic. "Hide" he replied, getting up to put on a pair of pants, allowing you some time to scramble to grab your shirt and any trace you were here and hide in his bathroom, staying dead silent as you did.

- You heard the sound of him talking to Captain Price as you were hidden, relief washing over you once the door had finally closed and he walked away. You peaked back out from the bathroom, seeing König look at you as the look of panic finally fell from his face. "Close call" you spoke with a grin. "Way too close" he replied as you came back to him. "Ya know, if you just came over to my place, we wouldn't have to sneak around and worry about getting caught" you mused, making him chuckle as he leaned down. "Maybe I like the thrill a little bit" he admitted, making you giggle lightly before kissing him once more, your arms draped over his shoulders as you did.

- "Just keep it down in there" Price's voice spoke from the other side of his door, making you panic once more. "König! This is why we should be at my house!" You said, face red as a beet from fluster, and König couldnt help but grin at your embarrassment. Price gave a laugh as he walked away.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

- Everyone knew you were his, he made it very clear that he would break the neck of anyone who would dare try to have a piece of you, or even look in your direction with malintent.

- He didn't need PDA to show it either, when you both were out with his comrades, or out in public, a protective arm laid around your waist yes, but even when it didn't, all it took was one look from Simon for someone to deeply reconsider their intentions with you.

- So one night, when you were both coming out to his truck for a smoke from a night out drinking with friends, the liquid courage seeping through your veins, you decided to push his buttons a little.

- There he stood, leaned against his truck, having just finished taking drags off of his cigarette before putting it out with his foot. His balaclava was still pulled up to rest on the bridge of his nose, showing off the lower half of his face, so you took the chance.

- You smiled as he grinned when your fingers slid along his jaw and up under the balaclava just a little, keeping it up so that you could kiss him. The taste of smoke, tobacco, and whiskey mixed together in a taste that was just so *him.* You couldn't help the surge of butterflies that came through you as his hands rested on your hips, the way he kissed you always left your mind reeling as they were always so intimate, so shameless.

- "Just couldn't wait, could ya?" He asked, making you chuckle as you bit your lip, your cheeks heating up from the drinks buzzing in you as well as the heat that always burned in you anytime he kissed you. "You know what bourbon does to me, and you know what *you* do to me" you replied with a playful grin, making him chuckle once more as you said it, poking his chest to prove your point before dragging your finger down some. "I'm very aware" he replied.

- Your finger looped into his belt, giving a strong tug to pull him closer to you, your lips just centimetres apart now before you closed the distance once more. "You're playing a dangerous game, lovie" he spoke in a low tone, making your grin only stretch wider. "That so? Gonna put me in my place then?" You challenged bravely, making his eyes hold a different intensity. Hunger, a predatory one at that. "Get your ass in the truck. Now" he ordered.

- Needless to say, it was no shock to him that you both managed to find your way in the back seat of his truck, music playing just loud enough in the background to add to the atmosphere as your panting from the deep kiss filled the air in the car.

- You grinned far too devilishly as you rolled your hips in time to the beat of the song, enjoying your moment of power over him. But he was there to remind you that even if you were on top and straddling him, that did not, by any stretch of the imagination, mean you were in control. His hand came to the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair as he tugged it back, making your head dip back as he did. You gave a sinful moan as he did, roughly thrusting his hips up into you. "Your misbehavin' has gotten a bit out of hand, love. Someone oughtta teach you some fuckin' manners" he damn near *growled* in response, making you whimper as his hips stilled completely. "Gonna be good f' me? Stop bein' a fuckin' brat?" He asked, making you nod your head yes vigorously, earning another yank on your hair and a powerful thrust up into you. "Answer properly" he ordered. "Yes sir, gonna be good for you, I promise!" you let out, his hand leaving your hair as he started his pace up again. "Then be a doll and take it" he spoke, making your eyes roll to the back of your head as he continued his brutal pace.

- Anyone on the outside wouldn't have known, the music, not too loud to be suspicious, but perfectly loud enough to cover your joint symphony of moans, pants, and grunts, paired with the sounds of skin against skin. So Soap being none the wiser, thought it'd be safe to go to Ghost's truck to tease you both for being gone for so long.

- Then a hand came to the foggy window, smearing enough of the condensation away to reveal the both of you in the back seat. What he wasn't anticipating was the sight of you on top of him, fully clothed thankfully, but it was clear what was going on. "Shit!" You exclaimed when you saw Soap's eyes widen before he looked away, knowing he'd be in deep shit for catching you both. Simon's eyes followed yours to the window, catching sight of the reason why you were hiding your face in your hands. A devious grin came to his lips, deciding to roll the window down some, not too much to show too much, but enough to send you into a panic. "Si! What the hell are you doing??" You asked, making the scot give a chuckle. "Was comin' t' check an' see if you two were still alive, but clearly you're takin' more than a smoke break" he replied. "Started off as one anyway.." You spoke with a nervous look, making him chuckle once again before turning around and walking back. "Try not to kill 'er" Soap spoke before walking back inside.

- You certainly learned your lesson that night, hiding your face that burned bright red as you left the back seat, Simon of course delighted in your torture as you both went back inside to sit back at the table, getting to take in all the knowing grins from his friends as they all teased you for the rest of the night. To Simon's standards of course, he'd never let anyone take it too far. ❤️

#cod smut #cod imagine #simon riley imagine #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley #john soap mctavish x reader #john soap mactavish #soap smut #könig imagine #könig smut #könig

[fauustic]

loved your bubble bath fic! can i make a request about miguel and reader who’s always doing favors for him (ex: bringing him lunch, patching him up after a rough night of fighting crime, checking up on him) and he tries to figure out why they’re doing this bc he thinks he’s a freak bc of his powers, until reader just confesses their undying love for him?

i hope i did this one justice! thank you for the request, anon!!

gender-nonconforming reader x miguel “spider-man 2099″ o’hara

angst, comfort. miguel, unable to accept his changed self, runs into you.

warnings: newly genetically altered miguel, intense insecurity and self-consciousness on his end. use of "freak" as self-depreciation. spanish may be iffy, not the best so i had little help with a translator :)

word count: 4291

Miguel liked the apartment he found himself in, low-key and hidden away from most of the hustle and bustle of the city. The complex was barely busy, except the few residential college students just looking for a place with cheap rent and the couple drunk office-workers who drag themselves to their apartment late every-night.

Having his senses genetically evolved, he couldn’t exactly fight himself when it came to being observant. Miguel would accidentally eavesdrop on work conversation, learning rather disgusting secrets of his co-workers with a sneer before trying his best to cover his ears subtly. The rare moments he was walking along the street alone, he’d hear passing comments that would normally flatter him, but hearing it from hushed strangers made him feel a gross way. Like he was intruding beyond boundaries. Learning things he shouldn’t by accident made him feel like a social monster.

Miguel knew almost everything going on around him. So when he was able to pick up on the clink of keys jingling into the presumably-empty apartment right next to it, Miguel wasn't exactly curious about the new neighbor– if anything he was a bit irritated. Knowing he'd have to suffer through days due to your chores, or the clanging of pots around every dinner, it made him feel more of a freak. No one else had to deal with such problems, so the newfound issues arising ever since the incident of quite literally getting his genetics flipped upside down– it made his skin crawl and heart ache. 

He would continue to suffer in quiet, claws digging into his pillow in a fit of agitation. Miguel will continue trying to live his life, and as you will yours.

It took weeks to finally run into you, as he stepped out of his own apartment and you were entering yours. It was a complete fluke, as Miguel began growing accustomed to wearing earbuds and turning on an easy-listening playlist to try and drown out the noises that normally put him so on edge.

He was locking his apartment before finally noticing your figure standing in your own doorway, a smile on your lips so genuine he almost was stunned. A welcoming neighbor in the city of Nueva York? Completely unheard of, quite frankly, it may even be considered suspicious.

The moment Miguel slipped off one of the earbuds, your voice met his eardrums in a way he's never heard anyone before. Usually, Miguel would gain a migraine after conversation with others. He's not used to his powers yet, and as much as it made him feel as if he was just some animal, the case didn't arise with you.

Smiling with sincerity, you held out your hand for him to take in a greeting. "Hi! I was wondering if I moved next to someplace haunted.." It was obviously a joke, yet when Miguel hadn't reacted you felt the need to explain in a much more awkward tone. "I suppose I just would hear some rummaging over on your side, but not a single person ever stepped foot out until now! Thought I was just hearing things." You giggled, rubbing the back of your neck while your other still hung with anticipation.

Miguel felt a subtle smile sneak itself onto his own features, before firmly shaking your hand back. "Ah, I hope you've been settling in well. Welcome to Nueva City, it's a pleasure to meet you." He wasn't necessarily trying to be awkward, it's just he technically does work all day, goes home, and then proceeds to pummel the absolute shit out of criminals corrupting the city. Miguel has lost a touch of charisma when it comes to new people, his usual way of conservating was from whoever was on the opposing side of his fists. A silence loomed over the two of you before you perked up, giving him a "hold on, there's something I have for you," before disappearing within your apartment. 

Confusion etching his consciousness, Miguel shifted on his feet. "What?" He huffed out. Guilt seeped into his thoughts, why are you the one giving a gift? Shouldn't he be the one to bring a house-warming present?

Miguel shook his head, easily brushing off your antics with an excuse of you "being nice, wanting a friend close by." He practically chuckled at the idea, Miguel wasn't the type to befriend off a whim, as much as he hated it he knew he was played a tough facade for those around him. It was difficult to break that barrier as he didn't trust others well, let alone allow an opportunity to accidentally reveal his monstrous features to a civilian.

His doubts were interrupted with a light giggle from that melodious voice of your's, a nervous bounce in your step as you held out tupperware for him. It was nothing too big, only enough for a meal, but the warmth in his hands rendered him shell-shocked. Growing flustered, he opened his mouth to ask what this was before you quickly answered before the words tumbled off his lips. 

"It's nothing special, I was just making some good ol' chicken alfredo pasta last night and had some leftover." You explained with a flurry of nervous hand gestures, catching Miguel's gaze. He found himself studying you excessively, the idea of eating a home-cooked meal for the first time that week had his mouth watering. "Since we never catch each other, I thought your schedule may not allow you to have a good meal every once and a while." Miguel couldn't deny that the idea made his chest bloom with a painful tenderness despite just thinking how he wouldn't cave easily for you. 

He didn't deserve this normalcy from you. He didn't deserve this meal from someone like you, sweet and caring and human. As much as a voice whispered to him to open up, to accept this because he needed such kindness– Miguel shut his brain off as he met your own stare. 

You were messing with a bracelet on your wrist with a downturned frown and a nervous glint in your eyes due to his abrupt silence. He perked up once realizing the anxiety was because of him, because of his reaction.

"This is.. very nice of you." Miguel confessed stiffly, unsure how to exactly react because he's not used to gifts. "Thank you..?" 

You blurted your name out clumsily as he trailed off, and Miguel just couldn't contain the chuckle that escaped his lips. It was nothing like the chuckle before, he felt happiness explode through his chest at the simple sight of you joining him. 

"Thank you," Repeating your name, he caught the wobble of your smile when it purred off his tongue. His words were more genuine as the tension from before loosened. Miguel's gaze dropped from his next lunch to your hands, in which he couldn't help but squeeze them both in a reassuring manner. It may have been difficult with the tupperware sandwiched between his arm and hip, but he was determined to express his gratitude in a friendly manner. He knew he was acting a bit weird, but he truly was trying to hold it together. 

"Miguel, Miguel O'hara." He finally introduced himself, almost wanting to slap his cheek over stupidly waiting so long to do so. But you just giggled, and the squeeze he felt on both his hands washed away any thoughts his insecurities infected him with. "So nice to meet you, Miguel." What an angel, un ser celestial he couldn't help the thought.

Your phone erupted through the comfortable silence that enveloped over the two of you, and with an apologetic glance you signalled you had to go. Before finally picking up your phone, you quickly sputtered out "have a good day at work!"

For the first time since his incident, he felt normal. The lighthearted conversation, the look of joy directed towards him in contrast to the usual fear. It fueled something inside him, a yearning for more.

Miguel, for the first time in so many years, looked forward to a day in the lab because of some chicken alfredo pasta. It was stupid, he knew that.

But as his tongue met the noodles later that shift, which were seasoned just right, accompanied with a tender, grilled slab of chicken– Miguel almost fell out on the floor of his lab. He had never missed home-cooked dishes more than now after finally getting a taste of your recipe. 

Stabbing another forkful, he wondered why you didn't just keep the rest of it for yourself.

A full week passed until a light knock and ring to his doorbell met the dimly lit room.

He couldn't withstand bright lights, especially the overhead light of his apartment. Miguel's eyesight still was trying to get used to the sharpness, the ability to track a motion muscle by muscle. It was a blessing, being able to to spearhead figures in the dark– but lights enraged migraines he couldn't shake off for days. 

Wincing as he dodged his suit lamely bundled on the floor of his apartment, Miguel couldn't help but hiss when his nose scrunched the wrong way. The stench of blood flooded his senses, the black eye forming tingling with pain. He was exhausted, and ready to tell off whoever decided to ring him this late into the hour.

What he didn't expect to see was you, standing in the doorway with a sleepiness to your expression as your pajamas hung loosely to your form. In your hands, this time, was a tray of cookies that looked as if they just left the oven. "Hey there, neighbor," you giggled with a tired haze in your tone, shifting your attention from your slippers to his own eyes. 

Yet, after a few seconds of your eyes adjusting to the darkness, you were able to make his injuries out with a surprised gasp. The silly greeting was forgotten as quickly as it came, you demanded answers as the light from your own apartment seeped into his. Miguel's shock at seeing you up this late easily allowed you to push past him, laying the cookies down on the nearest counter you found. 

"Miguel, what is wrong with your face?" You whispered with sadness, your grasp finding purchase on his cheeks. He couldn't bear this proximity with you, so he quickly pushed the advancement aside before trying to conjure up any excuse he could make.

"I had– a–" He sighed a huff of frustration, pinching the bridge of his nose in habit. But the gesture was quickly ruined with his own whine of pain, something he didn't want you to hear at all. "I had a fight at work, okay?" Miguel hisses through fangs, yet they didn't catch your attention due to the chaos of suddenly finding "Well-Kept, Awkward Chemist Guy" with a bloodied nose and a bruising eye. "I didn't expect it, ya know? El científico loco. Took a few swigs of a sample and that went wrong. Was caught in the crossfire."

He hadn't realized you had wandered off, rampaging through his bathroom for medical supplies until you came back with the items in hand. "Go on, sit down." You ordered, and with confusion etched all over his face, Miguel couldn't allow himself to disobey.

The apartment, dark with the exception of a few neon lights peeking through the big windows every now-and-then, stayed silent except for the few "be quiets" in response to Miguel's hisses and muffled groans. He hated being so vulnerable in front of someone he knew so little of, which led him to bring out the question that's been on the tip of his tongue this entire time. He shuffled nervously in his seat that you led him to minutes ago as you stood in between his legs with a focused expression resting on your features.

But you beat it to him first. As your hands skillfully bandaged wounds littering his skin, one one his shoulder and a few other on his back, your solemn tone broke through Miguel's guilt like a talon against prey.

"I know that story you made up was utter bullshit,"

"What-"

"No, you listen to me O'Hara." You tutted, as stern as he's ever heard you. "I'm not asking for excuses, or an entire story that's a lie. I asked what happened because I was worried, I'm not mad." 

Miguel's breathing hitched, looking at his nails that briefly unsheathed into claws before he was able to control his panicked shame. "Why?" He couldn't help but mumble, "why are you worried? You have no right to be, no somos nada el uno para el otro. Nothing is between us, you should have left the moment you saw." Miguel avoided your eyes that peered into his soul like you knew his secret, could read him inside out. Tears he didn't know he could produce clouded his vision, deeply moved from the drop of kindness you've granted him. 

You sighed, heavy and lingering. Words were left unspoken as he was drawn into a hug by your arms, in which he greedily returned with his own hold.

Miguel fought within himself constantly, the idea of being accepted for his differences was completely foreign to him. But here you were, denying every thought he's ever had about himself. And you didn't even, truly know him. 

"Don't cry," You murmured into his curls as you pet the back of his head before returning to applying a new, medicated bandaid on his nose. Swiping away tears as you brushed away dried blood, Miguel would choke out a "I don't deserve this, I don't," before being promptly cut off with a flurry of reassurance.

By the end of the night, Miguel allowed himself to be led to his bed by you, exhaustion evident within his walk as you had to help keep him steady.

It was nauseating, seeing Miguel in such a broken state. It made you wonder if he sat in his apartment, wallowing in his own mind. You had no idea what he was going through, but you were determined to keep him grounded.

That night, as Miguel was tucked into bed by you like a sick child, you vowed to try to be there more for the man you developed a genuine attraction to over the weeks of small chit chat.

The little shame he held close to his heart washed away with ease as throughout the upcoming weeks, your visits would become more frequent, showering him in little trinkets you'd pass by in the city that "reminded you of him" and homemade goodies. 

Miguel just couldn't bring himself to understand why you put in such an effort to include him in your routine, to keep him, a man in pieces that just coincidentally was your neighbor, in your life.

As many times as you halted his vague little ramblings of "I do not deserve this, I truly don't, pequeño panadero," he had this mentality rammed within his brain that he just couldn't shake. Something that made no sense because he just couldn't open up to you.

After a bad run-in with a lowly villain, Miguel groaned every time his form landed on another building to climb. His features threatened to frown at his awareness, the absurdity of it all. Here he was, digging talons into metal beams to scale skyscrapers with another set of nasty scratches and bloodied knuckles. What the fuck? Tonterías. 

Miguel was having such difficulty coming to terms with his new lifestyle as he pushed himself to continue without a break, the only bits and pieces of clarity was with you. 

Everytime you two met, you always had some sort of sweet or delicious tray of food that could might as well be a contestant for a national baking competition. He would tell himself not to eat it, it would be dumb to open that door of craving more, but Miguel always caved as the scent of freshness wafted throughout his apartment in the hours he was alone.

He fell in love with every sugary cookie you conjured with care, and every noodle dish that slowly shifted to recipes he's never heard of.

Why were you doing such things? Miguel would ask himself with a palm dragging over his face, earbuds softly echoing that playlist he can't seem to escape. He was a monster, a tailored man overcome by science. He hated who he became against his will, drowning out such vile insecurities with the nights of being Spiderman 2099. 

Muttering under his breath, he swung through the balcony of his apartment with a soft thud, ripping the mask off his face with a relieved sigh. 

Miguel felt so disconnected to himself, when he heard a muffled "Miggy..?" reach his ears his blood ran cold and every one of his senses was on fire. He froze, looking around at the home he found himself in– a bit cosier than his one and filled with the most enticing scents. He saw white for just a moment, his legs dead with anxiety as your voice– less groggy and more aware now– continued to try and catch his attention.

This was not his bedroom, which was empty for the most part except essentials, this was your bedroom. And the realization smashing his brain, rattled him to an extent that he felt a whole new kind of fear. Nothing he's ever experienced out in the city, under the guise that he was simply just a superhero. No one truly knew he was a genetically engineered monster, and yet he was so mindless that the truth is now revealed to the one person who put up with him.

Your light graze met his suited shoulder, leading him to sit down on the edge of your bed in his daze. You were silent, he knew that much despite feeling as if he was drowning underwater.

You went to work on patching up the blemishes upon his jaw, most likely a right hook he couldn't dodge in time causing the damage. His attention was in a whole different dimension, but as your free hand led his chin up to your own eyes, an expression you've never seen from his cold exterior crushed every piece of your soul. Miguel was in pain, both physically and mentally.

His eye, which was just finally healing from the other night, twitched ever so slightly as if tears threatened to fall. You never knew he would be so emotional, but obviously there was more to him that meets the eye.

"Why are you doing this, ángel?" He mumbled, scarlet gaze piercing your own. They were hazy, as if he was struggling to stay in the present. He was too caught up in his own mind he began rambling little by little, venom dripping from his tongue when referencing himself. "Soy el diablo reencarnado, I'm a disgusting animal." He spat with tears falling, your gentle fingertips working on both dabbing ointment and his tears away without a word. When the atmosphere was only silence, he couldn't help but express more of what he was thinking.

"I am not what you think I am." He choked down a gasp of air, his hold digging into your sides in desperation. "I don't deserve this kindness, I'm vile. A freak," Tone rough and full of self-depreciation, he kept his head fixated towards you standing between his legs. "All these gifts, delicacies that you've flooded my home with– you've given them away to an absolute freak. Una bestia repugnante. You carded your fingers through his tousled, dampened with sweat curls with a soft smile which almost sent Miguel downward into another spiral of doubt if you hadn't begun talking.

As he subconsciously leaned into your loving pets upon his scalp and fluttering eyes, you couldn't help but utter a nervous laugh with a twisted feeling in your gut.

"Miguel, you stupid, stupid man." You couldn't help but coo, as his eyes peeled open in an instant. But you continued before he could sputter more nonsense.

"I–" You squeezed your eyes shut as nervousness almost halted your advancements, but you pushed through as Miguel's grasp around your hips tightened in his own anticipation. "I've never viewed you as someone disgusting."

"Because you've never been exposed to the truth–"

"Because I just see a man who needs help. A space to feel safe." You sighed, leaning down to his level as your hands trailed from his curls to his cheeks. You held onto his skin with a firm, but loving touch that he practically melted into. A sob erupted through his throat, followed with a purr of comfort.

"You don't think I'm asqueroso? ¿Un error de un hombre?" He murmured, desperation in his voice. Pleading for your validation as if he's waited all his life for this.

You sighed for the millionth time that night, trying to relieve yourself of stress. Before you could stop yourself, Miguel was pulled into your embrace, his head meeting your chest. He snuggled closer, his arms wrapping around your waist without a second thought. Nails tracing shapes through your thin shirt, he breathed in deeply. He basked in the comfort of your smell, choking up at the acceptance he's finally been craving.

Miguel's grown quite attached to you throughout the weeks of your favors as much as he tried to deny the advancements in secret. His head buzzed with the idea of you when his thoughts grew too overwhelming in the dead of night, wishing to hear the melody of your voice that is his only medicine to calm down. 

The next words that tumbled from your exasperated lips shocked the both of you.

"I love you." 

He almost broke his neck trying to meet your gaze. "¿Qué estás diciendo?" He laughed stiffly, not believing his ears.

You repeat yourself, force beneath your words to try and drill it into his head. "Miguel, I know this is cliche and stupid and unbelievable–"

You breathed in and out, trying to steady yourself to remain level-headed. You wouldn't know what to do if the man you've pined for rejected you.

"I give you my favorite cookies because I keep you in my mind while making them, wishing you were right next to me while I bake." You confessed, cheeks growing hot at finally saying the thought aloud. 

"I don't give you lunch everyday because I have some leftover. I do it because I'm worried you're not taking care of yourself enough." You began wiping away his tears as your confessions filled the night air, words he never expected to hear because of who he came to be.

"I do all these things because I'm," You leaned in, bringing your voice to a whisper in fear of getting rejected. "I'm in love with all of you, whether it be the little rambles you find yourself in or the fangs you try to hide from other's eyes. You have consumed my every thought, the favors I did because I was worried turned into favors I wanted to do because of the way your lips quirked up as you held onto the gifts like a lifeline." 

Miguel laughed, a real airy laugh that squeezed through his teeth like it pained him. The warmth of his breath fanned your lips as you held his face, and as his tearful gaze darted to your mouth and back to your eyes, you knew exactly what left his tongue next.

"Please.. please can I kiss you, cariño?" It was like a ticking time bomb.

You couldn't even cry out, "yes, please– anything–" before his lips were on yours, heated and sloppy as if he's been thinking about this for weeks. His fingers slipped under your shirt, to knead into the flesh of your sides, dangerously close to the mounds of flesh he rested upon before. 

You couldn't help but moan into his mouth, which he eagerly swallowed before wincing as a shock of pain shot through his jaw.

You immediately separated from his lips, a string of saliva left in its wake. 

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you strain yourself–" you began to apologize, before he snatched your face up with frantic carefulness and stole another needy kiss. 

This time, the pace was slower, less wild and more sensual. He panted into your mouth, licking into it before finally separating on his own terms before dragging his fangs down your lower lip. 

Miguel sighed, forehead resting upon yours as the both of you tried to catch your breath. "Gracias mi ángel. Thank you for showing me, for showing me what I needed."

You nodded, eyes fluttering close in newfound sleepiness. "Stay the night, please." You couldn't help but ask, and Miguel took the offer the moment it escaped your thoughts.

"Let me go get a change of clothes–" He gestured at the suit he was still wearing, "and I'll be back before you know it, cariño." 

Laughing and giving him one last peck, you sent him off on his way. "If you don't come back, you're going to be missing out on some homemade pancakes in the morning." You teased, pride swelling when you caught his soft flustered chuckle.

"I would never miss such an offer for the world." Was the last thing Miguel purred before tugging his mask on in one swoop and jumping from your balcony. 

The last thing you remember as sleep began to take over was the divet next to you in the bundle of blankets and sheets; a pair of marred arms pulling you into a warm chest. Breath fanning your ear, Miguel's own sleepy whisper lulled you to sleep.

"I love you more." He murmured, "absolutely adore you cariño."

#miguel o'hara #into the spider verse #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara comfort #x gender neutral reader #x comfort #comfort #x reader #angst #miguel o'hara angst

[wildestdreamsblog]

Latibule: Prologue

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader (Mafia/Detective AU)

Summary: In which you didn’t know who he truly was- until it was too late. Or in which he found heaven in you.

Warnings: Secret Identity, Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Violence, Mention of death, Disability, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: I’m just here to cause chaos, really.

Masterlist

“Who the fuck are you?”

You frowned when you heard a harsh, baritone voice behind you. You turned around to glare at the injured man and took note that his pale skin looked better now. His midsection was wrapped with a bandage, covering what suspiciously looked like a stab wound. His left thigh was enveloped by yet another bandage and it looked like blood had faintly seeped in the cloth. Finally, you looked in his eyes- his definitely beautiful yet furious eyes. You would have flinched if you weren’t as equally annoyed because surprise, surprise- the bandage in his midsection was starting to bleed through.

For someone who had been asleep for days, this man sure did look alert.

He shouldn’t be trying to get up. In fact, he shouldn’t be moving at all.

“Who the fuck are you?” You snapped back before pushing back the enraged man on your bed. You weren’t even gentle about it. The man flopped down with a pained grunt, his veiny hand immediately going to his covered injury. “Stop moving or else you’ll open your stitches,” You reprimanded him as calmly as you could, which wasn’t much in the first place. “And I wouldn’t stitch them back. Not even if you pay me.”

You were irritated and frankly, exhausted from taking care of him. Ever since you heard loud movements outside your quaint house, you haven’t been sleeping in your hopes to keep him alive. It was four nights ago when you found him bleeding outside your home. How he got there, you had no idea. You almost didn’t see him that night when you went out to foolishly investigate. You decided to forego all the lessons your family and movies taught you about venturing out of your house alone and in the dark. In hindsight though, you should have listened. His dark clothes and equally dark hair hindered you from seeing him. It was too dark that night and the harsh rain almost made it impossible for you to notice him lying on the ground surrounded by your plants if not for his pale, bloodied hand that clutched your ankle.

You remembered screaming that night. You remembered looking down only to see a man on the verge of death in your garden. You remembered kneeling down and immediately checking for a pulse, uncaring of the dirt on the ground and the strong showers of rain drenching the two of you.

You remembered when he opened his dark and cold eyes that looked at you as though you were a celestial being. He held your eyes for a moment, and even on the face of death himself he managed to tilt his lips up. He thought that if that was the end for him, then you being the last he saw in this world was enough to sate him in his descent to hell.

He even thought that you were an angel sent to make sure he went straight to hell, never to cause chaos on the mortal realms again.

You might have slightly panicked when his eyes rolled up, his hold on your ankle slackened, and his pulse weakened. Your adrenaline rush gave you enough strength to take the man inside your house and tended to him, your medical training kicking in. The man was losing so much blood. He had already lost too much blood which wasn’t apparent because of his dark clothes. But you felt his blood on your hands, you saw his glaringly red blood. You saw him dying. And yet, you saw him fighting with every inch of him to stay alive.

To keep breathing.

To stay.

If you asked him years from that night why he kept fighting for his life, he would say that he finally found his purpose.

But of course, at that time he didn’t know why.

Which was exactly how you were in this situation- glaring at the man who obviously had too much anger in his heart.

Out of nowhere, the pale man clutched the back of your neck, bringing you closer to his lounged form. His forehead that was framed with his dark and long hair was almost touching yours. This close and you could see how deep his eye scar was. You hypothesized that it had been years since he was scarred. You were almost certain that the wound didn’t receive proper treatment from the way it healed-jagged and angry. His eyes were full of rage as he attempted to intimidate you. See, a lesser person would have been intimidated by someone like him.

But not you.

“I can easily hurt you, little girl,” he sneered at you, his eyes blazing with hatred.

But you weren’t one to take shit from other people. And so with enough force to remove him from your vicinity, you poked his stab wound. Immediately, the man let go of you to clutch his wound, doubling in pain from the way he seethed at you. His vision partially darkened from the onslaught of pain, yet he didn’t let out any sound.

You stood up straight before putting down the bowl of soup on your bedside table. “In your state?” You said as you rolled your eyes and passed him the spoon. “I highly doubt that. Sit your ass down and finish the soup.”

Part I

#min yoongi fic #bts fic #bts yandere #min yoongi yandere #suga yandere #min yoongi x you #min yoongi x reader #yoongi fic #yoongi x reader #yoongi x y/n #yandere min yoongi #min yoongi x y/n #haegum fic

[aemonds-sapphire]

Inexperience

Summary: You have often wondered how it feels to pleasure a man, so you take it up with Aemond.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW. Inexperienced reader. Friends to lovers (if you squint). Handjob. Masturbation.

Word count: 2k

Part II

“You’re doing it again.”

Aemond’s velvety voice snapped you from your intrusive thoughts state at once.

Inwardly scolding yourself, you shifted your attention back to the embroidery in your hands.

You weren’t being exceptionally subtle when it came to staring at him.

And Aemond’s observational skills were far too perfected for your own good.

“I apologise,” you said quietly.

Even from the corner of your eye you could see an intriguing smile on his lips as he lifted his eye from the book. “As you wish, my lady.”

You felt a rush of heat pool in your face. Even after years of growing up with Prince Aemond and tearing down any walls that were built from the unavoidable hierarchical imbalance, he would always know how to get under your skin.

The two of you would spend long hours in the fireplace room after supper, enjoying the calmness and silence. You’d be entertained with your embroideries while Aemond took his time diving into history and philosophy books.

A very intriguing young man he was.

In fact, he was just as intriguing as he was perceptive, which was why it didn’t surprise you that he had caught on to you occasionally glaring at him.

Not just him.

His body.

Quite frankly, the burning curiosity inside you begged you to just ask. It could be considered improper, but your mind kept wondering how.

How did he do it?

How did it feel like?

What was the worst that could happen should you ask these questions?

The matter of intimacy was all but known to both of you. He’d often invade your dreams with kisses and moans, but you didn’t dare reveal any of that to him. Sometimes, when about to doze off, you’d wonder whether it was reciprocal.

Not that it mattered. Your father would one day marry you off to some lord in some decaying castle never to cross paths with Aemond Targaryen ever again.

So you might as well ask and it was apparent that your body language betrayed your forced calm demeanour as it was enough to get his attention.

“Why are you so tense?”

You jolted in your seat, nearly jabbing the needle in your finger. “I am not tense at all,” you offered a smile.

“Lying is very unbecoming of you,” he said, flipping through a couple of pages. “Whatever is on your mind, you can share with me.”

You straightened in your seat, lowering your faze to the flowers you were carefully threading with your needle. Given the current circumstances, embroidery seemed far more inviting in comparison with having to deal with a suspicious Aemond.

“Take your time,” he said, not tearing his eye from the book and drumming his fingers on the padded armrest.

“I… it is nothing, Aemond.”

If you thought that was enough to shake him off, you were dead wrong. Instead, Aemond heaved a deep sigh and closed the book on his lap, staring intensely at you.

You tried your best to ignore his penetrating glare, but all to no avail.

“Do you take me for a fool?” he asked, but there no hint of annoyance in his voice.

If anything, he seemed deeply amused.

“What do you—”

Aemond interrupted you at once. “I’ve noticed the way you’ve been staring at me as of late.”

You looked at him wide-eyed. “Staring?”

“Subtlety isn’t your strongest suit.”

His eye was studying your every move and you had to be the inside of your cheek in frustration. More at yourself than at him, if you were being honest. You knew he wasn’t who was easily fooled, but you had also not expected that all the glaring had become that noticeable.

“It is nothing,” you said, feeling droplets of sweat coating the pads of your fingers, staining the coloured thread.

“You keep staring at my hands. Why?”

He had beautiful hands, indeed.

“For no reason.”

“Lie to me one more time and I will not have you riding Vhagar with me again.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “You wouldn’t dare.”

He clicked his tongue. “Do not try me.”

Your heart clenched as your felt trapped. “It’s nothing much,” you lowered your voice and glanced around to make sure no unwanted visitors were present. I was just wondering how it feels when you... uh... when you... do it.”

Aemond’s eyebrow arched. “Do... what?”

You weren’t sure if he was genuinely unaware of the implication, or if he was just pretending in order to get you riled up. However, were willing to bet on the latter.

“Hmm... you know...” you said, feeling your face burn hot from embarrassment. “How does it feel when you… hmm… pleasure yourself,” you finally managed to get the words out but quickly added, “Just curious… because… hmmm… just curious and—”

You cut yourself off, realising you were now rambling.

Tense moments ticked by and you noticed Aemond Targaryen was visibly amused. “Is this your subtle way of asking me to touch myself in front of you?”

Panic immediately hit you hard. “Of course not! Why would I want to see that? How — how is that—what? — I was merely wondering.”

He placed the heavy book on the table by his side, as his lips curled into a smile. “I wouldn’t mind it.”

You shot him a death glare. “If you don’t want to tell me just say that.”

“I do not indulge in such depravities.”

“Lies,” you threw at him in disbelief. “I do not believe you.”

“Lies? Well, it does take one to know one, I reckon.”

You bit the inside of your cheek once at the remark regarding your earlier failed attempt at deception.

“There is no need to get tense,” Aemond said, standing up to take a seat in the nearby velvet-padded settee.

“I’m really not.”

“We all have urges, I suppose,” he then shrugged, staring at his own hands. “I have never done this with someone else. It could be… interesting.”

“You could simply tell me how it feels or how you do it,” you said, mouth turning dry. “Besides, we would not be doing anything here.”

“Why tell you when I can show you?”

He could not be serious…

“The doors are closed,” he said, extending one hand to you. “No one comes here this late at nigh. Come here.”

Your feet brought you to him before you could even process what was happening. “I was having a serious conversation and you’re now talking about your… your…” you pointed at his crotch as you say by his side.

This time he arched an eyebrow at you. “I’m afraid I don’t follow. Weren’t you the one who wanted to know how it feels like?”

Point taken. “Yes, but—”

“So what do you want me to talk about?” Aemond asked, lips turning into a devious grin.

“You are being vulgar.”

“You started this conversation, my lady,” he pointed out. “You’re the one who’s being vulgar.”

There was no way around it. You were definitely making things worse for yourself. This had started off innocently enough, but he was easily bending the conversation to his will.

You decided to ignore his remark and had your eyes on the lit fireplace in front of you, determined to enjoy the way the flames danced around and burned through the wood.

But Aemond was relentless.

“I can show you.”

Your heart skipped a beat. You awaited for him to quickly take that back as a joke, but that moment never came.

He was dead serious.

“No, thank you,” you breathed, still not daring to look at him.

In all honesty, you wouldn’t mind taking a peak, but you couldn’t just admit to that. What if it made things awkward between you? What if you had crossed a line you weren’t sure you could go back from?

You kept your eyes firmly locked on cackling fire, but you could feel him shift beside you. It was probably a bad idea to dart your eyes to the side to watch as his legs lazily sprawled out from the settee, with and one hand resting on his belt.

You jolted when you saw him extend his hand to you. “You may touch it.”

This was definitely not what you had in mind. “Uh...”

He chuckled briefly. “It is my hand, not my cock.”

Your chin nearly dropped at his crass words and you frowned. “It’s simply genuine curiosity.”

He chuckled. “And I’m here willing to satisfy that curiosity. We have shared a friendship for many years,” he said, voiced coated in tones of warm honey. “If you are to learn about such things, I’d rather be the one enlightening you.”

It was such an unexpected and truthful statement, you felt your heart soar.

But as satisfying as it was to hear such words from him, you still had a shred of dignity left. “What if someone comes in?” you hissed in a low voice, eyes roaming across the room.

“We can be discreet,” he said. “Have you forgotten the many times we hid under beds after raiding the kitchen? No one would ever find us and those apples tasted ten times better.”

The memories of your shared youth tugged gently at your heartstrings.

“But we’re not hiding.”

Aemond brought a finger to trace the back of your hand. “We don’t have to. Not anymore.”

You swallowed hard hand watched as he offered you his hand at first. Without failt, your heartbeat sped up instantly, but you did your best to ignore it as you inspected his hand. His palm was turned upwards, giving you access to his warm skin.

“Can I...?”

Aemond had his head on the backrest, half-hooded eye still on you. “Yes.”

Holding the back of his hand in yours, you let your index finger slowly drag across it.

You could have sworn you heard the faintest sound come from him.

His skin felt really warm to the touch, nearly

“Is this alright?” you asked, halting briefly and studying his face.

“Carry on.”

But then something else in your field of vision caught your attention.

The hand he had resting on his belt drew you to look a bit further down and—

“Aemond?” your sudden gasp had him staring at you. “How are you...”

He bent his neck to stare down at the bulge in his pants. “I have no control over it.”

You wanted to be outraged, but this made you feel empowered and did wonders to your ego. You wanted to let go of his hand and be done with... whatever this was.

But you didn’t dare break contact with him.

If anything, the grip on his hand only intensified.

“Keep going… I can get harder than this.”

Gods. His hoarse voice immediately caused your thumb to resume the soft strokes along the palm of his hand.

The tension in the room was palpable, and you were no longer bothered in concealing how much your body craved more of him.

And just like Aemond had promised, you were able to see his cock growing harder and even twitching slightly each time you applied a certain amount of pressure on his skin.

Your breath was coming out in shallow pants.

You wanted more.

No.

You needed more.

Apparently, the feeling was mutual as he had his fingers on the buckle of his belt, tugging on it. The sight had your mouth watering. The not so subtle bulge was clearly making him uncomfortable in a way and in eye you detected undeniable lust.

You couldn’t help but shift closer to him, and the motion triggered him into undoing his belt. Once he got it out of the way, he unbuttoned his pants.

He heaved a deep sigh of relief at sudden relief of tension.

“Maybe we should stop?”

“Do you want to?” he asked, gently fiddling with the waistband of his pants.

No. “It’s just... what if someone—”

“You keep sabotaging yourself,” he groaned in exasperation.

“But... if someone comes in...”

He growled. “I will behead them.”

Your eyes widened in sudden horror.

“I am not being serious,” he finally added, offering you a grin. “Just enjoy this.”

In one switft motion, he pulled the fabric down, freeing his hard cock.

“Oh...”

You had never seen one before. It looked intimidating and you tried to do something other than just glare, but you couldn’t quite believe in what was happening just yet.

“Such a pretty mouth...” he observed as his eye dropped to your lips and wrapping his fingers around himself.

Your clit was pulsing as your walls clenched and pushed out more and more wetness to coat your folds.

Aemond started pumping his cock in a lazy rhythm, eye fully locked with yours. You saw a few beads of a clear liquid pooling around the tip.

“Keep touching me…”

“I... I...” you sounded like a fish out of water.

He tightened the grip on his cock, forcing more of the liquid to come out. That’s when it started sliding down and onto his knuckles.

“Keep going…”

It was clear he was getting impatient and the strain in his voice hit your brain, causing you to straighten before bringing the palm of his hand to your lips.

You made sure he kept his eye on you when you started pressing soft kisses to each finger.

“Good...” he praised and encouraged, bringing the palm of his other hand to rub on the tip of his cock.

He had his wetness smeared across his skin and you kept on kissing him until he dragged his hand down to pump his cock once again.

“Let me feel you,” he panted, squeezing himself tighter. “I want to feel you.”

You presse one last kiss to the palm of his hand. “What?”

It was his turn to grip your hand. “Let me fuck your hand.”

Oh… Gods…

You felt a load of wetness leak from you it’d be a miracle if you managed to somehow finish this without having your own dress completely soaked.

He guided you down to his crotch, letting go of his cock only to have your own hand wrapping around him, drawing a beautiful hiss from him.

The sudden urge to kiss him took over your senses, and just as the thought flooded your mind your body promptly acted in it, and you crashed your lips onto his.

He was definitely caught by surprised, but had no problem reciprocating the same hunger and lust you felt for him by having his tongue against yours.

You allowed him to guide your hand up and down his cock with his own, feeling his grip increase. He set up a very slow rhythm as if making the most out of this moment.

“Tighter...” he moaned in between a sloppy kiss.

Your fingers promptly squeezed around him. He had been leaking so much that it didn’t take long before your own hand was drenched in his wetness.

It was hard to focus on his cock when he was completely robbing you of air, refusing to break the kiss.

When he finally let go of your lips, you saw him staring down at his cock fucking your hand. You could feel his breath come out in pants when he started lifting his hips to set a new tempo.

“Is… is this how you do it?” you said innocently.

Aemond’s eye closed shut and that was the best reply he could have given you.

You absentmindedly brought your free hand to roam under your dress and to your undergarments. Your wetness was sipping through the fabric, your pussy clenching at the thought of one day having him take your maidenhead.

You didn’t even notice that he had undone his coat and lifted his shirt, exposing his abdomen as it flexed with each snap of his hips, a sheer coat of sweat forming as he sped up.

“Are you tighter than this?” he groaned.

How could someone be this… alluring?

He kissed you again, his hand gripping yours tighter once again.

But you needed more of him.

You pushed him away for a moment so you could swing one leg over his waist, effectively sitting on his crotch. Lifting your dress, you revealed your soaked undergarments. Aemond was shamelessly glaring at the stain that was spreading across the fabric.

“Be quiet,” you told him, squeezing his cock as a warning.

“I said nothing,” he said with a knowing smile.

You needed the friction on your clit and this new position would grant you that. With each thrust from him, your clit was being pressed gently, and you couldn’t help the deep moan that slipled through your mouth.

Aemond finally let go of his grip in you and brought both hands to frame your face, once again draining your lungs from air as he pulled you into a scorching kiss.

You never thought you’d be this close to release, but that was the least of your concerns. You wanted to watch that beautiful man unravel before your eyes.

He kept on thrusting into your hand, and when he pulled away you knew he was close. You took some time to admire how his beautiful face twisted in pleasure, mouth parted into laboured gasps.

“Faster...” he urged you and you were more to glad to oblige.

You were now familiar with what made him groan deeper, gasp louder, and roll his hips higher. It took him only a few more moments before his thrusts started faltering, and he had to bite the back of his hand to keep himself from groaning out loud as hot spurts of cum started shooting against your undergarments. You shuddered as the head of his cock pressed into your clit and his warm released sipped into the fabric.

You tumbled forward to rest your head against his shoulder, not even concerned about the mess.

“That was…” he let out, chest heaving rapidly.

“Can we do this again?”

You felt his chest rumble into yours. “Give me some time to recover… you just emptied me…”

-

Part II

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond smut #aemond x you #aemond x reader #hotd smut

[hawkinsbnbg]

Steve Harrington was a dragon.

Once upon a time, he would kidnap a princess, imprison her in his tower, guard the said tower, and await his doom delivered by a knight in shining armor.

But this wasn't that kind of fairy tale. No, in this story, Steve and the princess were friends. Her lover was a fae who was his platonic soulmate, and the knight in shining armor was his brother in arms.

Still, no one, even Steve himself, foreseen it when a handsome mercenary arrived at his tower and stole his heart.

Steve never felt so adored in his long and boring life, but Edwyn "Eddie" Munson managed to do the impossible.

The man was good with his words, even better with his fingers when he scratched the itchy spots beneath Steve's scales and drew runes of protection and love on Steve's human body.

Eddie was also an attentive lover who brought Steve sparkly gifts every time he visited the tower.

In turn, Steve let the mercenary ride on his back in their adventures, let the man guide him to wherever he was pleased, and let himself be consumed in the amorous looks Eddie would give him when the man thought he didn't notice.

Robin, Nancy, and Jonathan had been suspicious at first about Eddie's true motive. They worried that the mercenary would betray Steve because, despite his peaceful nature, Steve was the most powerful of his kind. And frankly, many had hunted him throughout his life given that even a piece of his scales cost a fortune in black markets.

Their concern was warranted, Steve supposed, but he trusted Eddie to not do him harm. Yet, sometimes, when Steve couldn't sleep at night, he would think about the worst and decide that if Eddie asked, he would give the man everything.

After all, Eddie already had his heart.

In the end, Eddie only asked of him a vial of his blood to cure Wayne's illness.

The day the truth came out was when Eddie approached him and stated that his uncle couldn't wait any longer.

Steve could see the desperation and hope in those chocolate eyes that he so loved, and knew for certain that Eddie wouldn't fight him but would be on his knees and beg until he agreed to help.

Before things could go any worse, Steve decided to take the matter into his own hands. Literally.

"So you had approached me because of my blood," Steve smiled wryly at the sting of the betrayal as he let Eddie dress the gash on his forearm. They both knew the cut would heal in a few minutes, but Steve didn't turn down Eddie's help. Couldn't.

"You should know that I didn't only have your blood in mind," Eddie fastened the bandage's knot securely.

"What? Are you asking for my organs next?" Steve huffed out a bitter laugh. "I heard they're quite useful ingredients for rituals and potions."

"No," Eddie met his eyes calmly and guided Steve's hand to rest on his chest. "Please listen to the song of my heart and do know that it is never a lie when I say this: I've been wanting all of you for myself since I first laid eyes on you."

Steve blinked rapidly in bewilderment and awe. Every dragon had an innate talent, and Steve's was the ability to see only the truth.

Thus, when Eddie opened himself up so freely like that, Steve could also see the man's deepest desire. And what he saw made him blush terribly. This man was truly hopeless.

"You never do anything in half, do you?" Steve snorted.

"Once Uncle Wayne gets better, I will return to the tower and never leave your side again," Eddie held his hand tightly as if fearing he would take it back and peppered feathery kisses on his knuckles.

Those words sung true to Steve's heart. Yet, he also sensed the wordless yearning from his lover. There was only one way, wasn't it?

"I'll go with you, then. I think it's time for you to introduce me to your family."

"Are you sure?"

Looking at Eddie's hopeful eyes, Steve leaned in to kiss the love of his life soundly.

"As sure as gold."

They both chuckled fondly at the memory together. After all, the first thing Eddie had given him upon their meeting was a sparkling bar of gold.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #dragon steve #mercenary eddie #princess nancy #fae robin #knight jonathan #steve: *sniffs disdainfully at the mercenary standing below* what are you doing here at my tower? #eddie: i'm edwyn munson and i'd like to be friends with you. #steve: as if I would– #eddie: *takes out a bar of gold* is this enough? #steve: *already mesmerized by the sparkly thing* ... well it's not so bad. i can see we're going to be good friends sir munson. #robin & nancy & jonathan: *gasps* what a cunning man! #sionewrites

[rosequarzo]

ong omg!! AVEN TIME!!

A short one for a cute brain rot: As for pining, do you think Aventurine would be active in courting you or would he be distant due to his animosity towards close relations- making you the active pursuer if you want anything to happen between the two of you?

If you want, you can give us a prompt of as to what you think pining would be like with Aven? 🫶

Your writing is so edible its crazy 💓💓💓

courting the enigma: pursuit amidst animosity.

૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა • ! aventurine + reader reader is gender-neutral reader is part of the ipc aventuring being insecure tooth-rotting fluff ☆ warning not proofread this was kinda messy to me urm . . . !? & 729 — catalogue

note. hihi!! this was really cute and sorry for the abrupt ending, i didn't want this to get way too long haha... but i hope you like it. tagging @neuvistar @rninies.

Oh boy, I think it would probably be him trying to distance himself from you, due to many reasons. Once the gambler realised he has feelings for you, Aventurine felt like he had transformed into a clown of a circus. He doesn’t know how or when it happened but it was too late, he had fallen head over heels for you. It also doesn’t help with the fact that he had fallen too deep to even find a way out. 

So Aventurine did the only thing he could think of: distancing himself from you. It was frankly confusing to see the usual loud and charismatic gambler suddenly avoiding you like the plague. Whenever he sees you entering his vision, he will immediately bolt out of the place, without sparing you a glance. The first two times it happened, you thought nothing of it since you knew how busy he was, considering his status in the IPC. 

But as time went on and as you began to notice how he was actively avoiding all forms of contact with you, you were starting to grow suspicious and worried. No matter how hard you tried to approach him, he was able to avoid you in a blink of an eye. Frankly, you were surprised with how good he was at running away; like something he had mastered with years of experience. This game of wild goose went on for two weeks until you had reached your limit: you were done. 

“Aventurine-” 

“Oh uh, I have something important to tend to, so if you don’t mind-” 

He awkwardly laughed, back facing you as he attempted to leave the scene, only to be interrupted when you harshly tugged him back. The sudden force made him stumble over his feet, wincing when he was slammed against the wall. Aventurine groaned when his head hit the wall, making him see stars and when it cleared up, his breath hitched in his throat at the sight of you blocking off any possible forms of exits. 

This isn’t good for my heart. 

He nervously gulped, praying with his entire might that you wouldn’t be able to hear how loud his heart was practically pounding against his ribcage right now. With the close proximity between the two of you, he could see every detail of your face. What was worse was how he could feel the warmth emitted from your body. Every part of him was tempted to just lean in and kiss you but he held himself back. 

“Aventurine, why have you been avoiding me? Did I do something wrong?” You asked, resting your left hand on the side of his head. 

Play dumb, Aventurine. You got this. You are a professional in acting. 

“Huh? What do you mean?” He forced a chuckle, pressing himself further into the wall when you leaned in, practically invading his sense of boundary. 

You scowled, narrowing your eyes at him; obviously not buying his lie. “I’m not stupid. I know you’re avoiding me. But why? If I did something wrong, please tell me so I can fix it.” 

Oh fucking hell. 

“It’s not you. It’s me,” he sighed, shoulders slumping and his response elicited a bemused look from you. 

“I’m avoiding you because I… I like you. And I’m scared that you might feel disgusted or-” 

“Aventurine.” 

The way you said his name in such a firm tone made him flinch. He heard a deep sigh from you, followed by you boldly reaching out to cup his cheeks, forcing you to look at him. He scanned your face and to his surprise, he couldn’t find any disgust, anger, disappointment or hatred. Instead, all he could find was love and concern. 

“You would never make me feel that way. In fact, I like you too. No wait, I love you,” you murmured, your words spoken in such a soft and comforting tone combined with the way you looked at him; like he was everything was a deadly combination. 

“Uh…” 

You were granted the privilege of witnessing Aventurine being rendered speechless, completely taken aback at your confession. You saw how the lightest shade of red dusted his cheeks and you couldn’t help but lean in to press a chaste kiss on the corner of his lips, earning a startled squeak from the man. 

“Sorry, but you’re too cute to resist.” 

And then, he fainted. 

#୨୧ magazine articles #honkai star rail #star rail imagines #star rail x reader #aventurine imagines #aventurine x reader #aventurine x you #aventurine x y/n #aventurine fluff