#we don’t actually know his birthday for sure

[wooahaes]

party of two

pairing: non-idol!joshua x fem!reader

genre: fluff. established relationship. silly fic <3

warnings: food mentions. reader having a lonely childhood/teenage years. mentions of reader being in therapy pre-fic. joshua hong being a silly, silly man. hints at suggestive stuff post-fic, but it's left vague. slow dancing to jopping <3

word count: ~1.1k

daisy's notes: ya think ya big boi throwing three stacks imma show you how to ball you a mismatch opinionated but im always spittin straight facts

The last thing you expected to come home to were streamers, balloons, and everything you’d need for someone’s birthday party.

Immediately, panic set in first. There didn’t seem to be anyone else in the apartment (and, truly, unless they were hiding in the bedroom or the bathroom, you would know), and Joshua had never gone behind your back to do something you asked him not to do before… But the decorations point to the party you asked him not to throw. Last year had been nice enough, sure, but you just wanted a quiet day with your boyfriend. Would it be worth it to step out and call him, just to clarify? 

Joshua walked past the entryway, stopping when he saw you were standing here. “Oh. Shit, you’re home early.” 

Forcing a smile, you just stepped over to slip out of your shoes and into your house slippers. “Mmhm. I was supposed to leave sooner, actually, but an emergency came up.” 

Joshua immediately set down the folded banner, snagging a party hat as he made his way over to you. “Well,” he said, stretching the string so that he could carefully put the hat on you. “We can party early, then.”

“Party?” You gave him a suspicious look.

“Party of two,” he booped your nose. “You said you didn’t have a lot of parties as a kid, so… When you told me to plan something fun, I thought we could do something silly.” 

Something about that made your heart swell in your chest. You’d told Joshua that you’d been a lonely kid (and teenager), rarely invited to parties and almost never having your own. It had messed with you growing up, sure, but you’d managed. Even though it felt silly to admit you’d gone to therapy over it, Joshua hadn’t judged you. He’d listened to your tales of attachment issues and other struggles carefully, nodding along and admiring your growth as a person. It hadn’t been easy, and it netted you some struggles with having healthy relationships in college, but you came out the other side with a new circle of friends who cared for you as much as you cared for them, and a healthy relationship with Joshua built on trust and communication. Still, it was nice to have him there to listen when you just needed to rant about how bullshit your youth had been. A week or so ago, it had been the realization that one of your birthday parties as a kid had been shared with a friend… who was probably the only reason people came.

“I don’t think that’s true,” Joshua had said after you finished your rant. “You were a kid. You said people liked you enough even if you weren’t invited to stuff.”

It was nice to have someone there who could ground you when you were getting too upset over things. Even now, as he stood before you with a stupid party hat sitting lopsided on his head, he’d taken your hand in his own. His thumb ran over your knuckles, watching as you looked past him to get a better view of the decorated living room. It’s all gold and shades of pink, and he just grinned at you.

“It’s all the store had today,”  he admitted. “I meant to go sooner, y’know, but… Kinda had some other things I needed to get in order.” 

Joshua took your other hand, swinging them as you finally melted a little and smiled at him. A party for the just two of you was particularly cheesy, but if it was with Joshua, you’d be happy to attend. “So…” You stepped forward. “What are we gonna do at this party?”

His gaze flickered down to your lips for just a moment. Yet the moment you leaned in, he reached up to press his fingers against them, stopping you in your tracks. “Keep it PG,” he teased with a mischievous grin you wanted to kiss off of him. “PG-13, if you have to.” He chuckled, kissing your cheek. But instead of pulling away immediately, he leaned in, breath hot against your ear, “we can do more later, if you want.” 

No promises made, though: you’d have to see how you were feeling then. But you did take the chance to press a quick peck against his cheek before he could move away. Joshua guided you into the apartment, already rattling off about all of the plans he’d made. He’d ordered a tiny cake for the two of you to share, bought your favorite flavor of ice cream, bought pizza to really hammer home the idea of this being a casual party (not that you minded: the two of you cooked for each other often enough, getting takeout was a welcome break). He made no promises of party games or a plethora of gifts for you to unwrap… But he did pull out his phone, connected to the bluetooth speaker and turned up music—loud enough for the two of you, but not enough to bother the neighbors now. 

“Well?” He extended his hands to you again. “Do you wanna dance?”

Joshua Hong knew you couldn’t dance for shit. It was one of the things he pointed out to you when you were half-asleep one night and he drunkenly needed to tell you the little things he loved most about you. He said you were as graceful as a baby deer, but he loved it when you felt safe enough to be silly around him.

So you just accepted his hands. “I’d love to.” 

He just smiled at you before pulling you in, chest to chest, as he began to sway with you to music that was far from swayable. “No, you wouldn’t.”

You snorted in response. “Yeah… I wouldn’t,” you reached up, draping your arms around his neck. The sounds of Taeyong’s rap in the background nearly made you laugh. “But I like holding you.” 

“Ulterior motives,” he hummed. “By the way… I was thinking… For our wedding song—”

“Joshua.” The two of you weren’t even engaged yet, but you already knew what he was thinking.

He gasped in mock offense. “Are you telling me you don’t want to walk down the aisle to Mark’s rap in this song?”

It earned a real, warm laugh from you, and the look of pride on Joshua’s face told you that his job was done. He’d let you go soon and dance with you properly… But for now, he’d continue to sway with you, chatting about your day as he admired you a little longer.

taglist: @twancingyunhao@wonuziex@synthetickitsune@porridgesblog@staranghae @weird-bookworm @bangchansbae @laylasbunbunny @bewoyewo

#wooahaes.fic #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagine #svt x reader #svt imagine #seventeen x you #svt x you #joshua hong fluff #joshua x reader #joshua fluff #joshua hong x reader #joshua x you #wooahaes.24

[withasideofshakespeare]

Happy death/birth(?)day, William Shakespeare!

#shakespeare #thanks for all the great plays man #we don’t actually know his birthday for sure #but it’a so good if it’s the same as his death day #because that’s a plot point in a play he wrote! #(Cassius dies on his birthday)

[floral-hex]

The growing anxiety of realizing that I’m running out of time to text my dad happy father’s day 😬

#oh man our relationship would be so much easier if we just never tried #but I suppose that’s true for most things. not doing stuff is easier than doing stuff. wow what a concept. #but I do love my dad. I just don’t know how to talk to him #haven’t texted him since my birthday in December #lol just looked back and saw that the joke I was going to open with I already used for my birthday #’thank you for helping conceive me’ #okay yeah not that funny but like I said I don’t know how to talk to him #so being weird and trying to be funny is like ‘hey at least I’m putting some effort into my tri-annual text’ #I just… I dunno… blegh… I have nothing to say about my life that isn’t shameful or depressing #but hey! at least I’m the one (1) kid he has that’ll actually text him! #pretty sure my sis is still on the outs with him but she’s… got her own shit I don’t need to weigh in on #whatever. he’s got his whole ‘beach life’ Jimmy Buffet Florida day drinking ‘in a cool way’ BS going on so I don’t feel toooo bad #okay okay let’s see if I can get away with a quick text and not have to talk to him much #ugh… I’m a shitty son #or I’m not a shitty son but he really hasn’t done anything for me to avoid him like I do #just my own self-worth bullshit. well not just that. but I’m negative about myself so I’ll focus on that #oh hey sorry I forgot this isn’t a therapy session #why would you read all of this? #sorry to everyone having a shitty father’s day #I’ll be your dad #I’m proud of you. #if you made it through the day today then I’m proud of you and I love you or like you or whatever this is dumb #you can ignore this #text

[talesfromthebandgeekmafia]

I miss my d&d campaign so bad 😢

#one of my players has been out for a month visiting his girlfriend in Scotland #and we had to cancel today because another player had to celebrate their nephew’s birthday #I’m going insane I’ve gone too long without d&d it’s not good for me #like I think it actively exacerbates my depression #like yeah sure I’ve played a bit of westmarches but let’s be real here #Dungeon Masters don’t want you to know this One Simple Trick DMing is actually the most fun way to play the game #we make it sound harder than it is it’s actually the most fun thing ever #I gotta get back to that world man #plus we ended on an insane cliffhanger #idk d&d is always a deeply centering and grounding thing to me it’s almost meditative #when that DM flow state hits & you’re fully absorbed into being the mouthpiece for this narrative & the occasional bit #it’s like inverse meditation you have so many things to hold in your head your mind can’t wander you have to stay in the present moment #it’s usually the highlight of my week #and I really love my players they’ve become dear friends and I miss them a lot </3 #fingers crossed knock on wood next week will be the week #d&d #spilling the Tea

[verstappen-cult]

I don’t know why I went full angst on this but maybe one of them totally blanks on your birthday plans so you’re just sitting at a fancy restaurant with the other one wondering where he is

I can see this where Max forgot and you and Charles finally decide to order food and when you get home he was steaming and didn’t realize what was going on

PART TWO.

You look to the front door just to see another random person walking in. Across the table, Charles tries to hold his anger inside, he tries very hard not to show how affected he also is.

“Maybe something came up.” Your boyfriend tries to smile and reassure you that everything is fine, that Max has a good excuse for not showing up.

He better have a god excuse or Charles is gonna make him sleep on the couch for the next month.

“Should we order? I’m pretty sure Max will want for us to celebrate. It’s your birthday, princess.”

You nod, not trusting your voice to speak.

It’s not the ideal celebration. Not when one of your boyfriends is not there with you and doesn’t pick up the phone. But Charles does a pretty good job of making you forget about it.

At least until dessert cames and they sing happy birthday to you.

*

“We have plenty of leftovers,” You go to the kitchen as Charles closes the front door. “You want a cup of tea, Char?”

“Don’t be a cunt! I was winning!”

You and Charles look at each other.

“Wha–”

But Charles is already sprinting up the stairs.

You follow him, heart rate through the roof, into Max’s streaming room.

And there he is. Max. Wearing sweatpants and streaming. You look at the screen that says how long he’s been there: four hours. Then, you see his phone on the floor, right next to a couple of Red Bulls.

“What the fuck, Max?!” Charles exclaims, making his boyfriend jump scared.

“Jesus Christ,” He touches his chest, just where his heart is. “Everyone’s laughing, by the way.” Max points to his headphones and then the screen where his friends, in fact, are laughing.

But you couldn’t care less about it.

“Max.” You say softly, grabbing Charles’ hand and caressing his wrist to try and calm him.

“What the actual fuck, mate.”

Charles never calls him mate.

“What?” He looks at Charles, then at you. “You look pretty good. Where did you go?” Max asks, already turning around to keep playing.

But Charles is having none of it. He walks to one side of the room, where everything is connected, and shuts everything off.

“Charles!”

Max is off his chair in a matter of seconds, looking absolutely pissed.

“Oh, you don’t get to be angry.” Charles takes two long strides, but you stand between them before he does something he will regret later. “We waited three hours! It was her birthday, you giant, fucking idiot.”

Charles throws his arms in the air before getting out of the room, leaving a speechless Max behind.

“What?”

You breathe deeply, avoiding eye contact. “You don’t even remember my birthday?”

“Of course I remember your birthday, Schatje.” He picks up his phone, seeing all the missed calls and texts. When he looks up, his eyes are filled with tears.

You can’t see properly anymore. “I think is better if you sleep in the guest room tonight, Max.”

You leave before he has time to say anything, running down the hallway and into your room. It’s only then that you let the tears flow freely down your face.

#꒰꒰ 📁 ─ verstappen cult files ꒱꒱ #f1 x reader #charles leclerc x reader #max verstappen x reader #lestappen x reader #f1 imagine #charles leclerc fluff #max verstappen angst #charles leclerc angst #f1 fanfic #max verstappen imagine #charles leclerc imagine #poly!f1 #lestappen x you

[thebearer]

nothing in the world belongs to me |carmen berzatto x reader|

prompt: still new in your relationship, you show up to the bear for dinner unexpectedly, surprising carmen and the others.

based off this prompt from the other day :)

contains: fluff lol. really, it's just fluff. established-ish relationship (the others don't know). carmen being a little nervous and possessive but mainly cute <3 language.

“Alright, listen up,” Richie stood next to Sydney, flicking through the piles of tickets that were ringing through by the second. It was normal now, an expected task in their routine. “We need to walk the focaccia to table seven, please.” 

“Yes, Chef!” A chorus of nearly robotic voices rose from the sizzling hiss of the lamb searing in Carmen’s pan, lifting the spatula to tip the meat over, before giving it back to the chef on the line. 

“And for table nine, we’ve got a shellfish allergy, alright? So let’s triple check the cross contamination on that. T, can you handle that one?” Richie moved from his leather bound book of notes back to the ticket. 

“Yes, Chef!” Tina chimed, pulling a freshly washed pan, filling it with the veal stock. 

“Table nine, is that- that’s the senator?” Carmen turned to Richie, tasting the roux bubbling on Victoria’s station, giving her a curt nod of approval. 

“No, that’s table eleven.” Richie hummed, looking back at his notebook. “Nine, is… a birthday. Booked online.” Carmen had already begun to drone him out, mind racing with a million other things as Richie listed the guests name. Until he got to one. 

The name Carmen was sure he was hallucinating. The name no one knew- How would they know? How could they possibly know your name? 

You and Carmen had been seeing each other for a little while. A few weeks that were slowly turning into months. A casual thing that was slowly turning more serious. Dates and meetups are becoming more frequent. You’d even invited him over to your place a few times, he’d spent the night last week. 

Still, Carmen hadn’t managed to tell anyone. Selfishly, he liked that you were all his for now. Privacy was not guaranteed in the Berzatto house, in Carmen’s life still. He knew they meant well, they always did- he knew it wasn’t purposeful, the intrusion that almost always led to a demise. Carmen wasn’t ready for it, not yet, he still wanted you all to himself. 

“Carmen?” Sydney’s voice pulled him out of his panicked trance. “Chef, are you- are you good?” Her voice lilted with that familiar suspicious quip, the one always accompanied with her lifted brows. 

“What?” Carmen blinked, hands buzzing, heart thumping. He could see the window, Richie’s frame blocking most of it. “Sorry, yeah- yeah, I’m good, Chef.” 

Sydney watched him carefully, a slow nod before she continued calling out orders. Carmen could feel Richie’s eyes on him, narrowed with curiosity. Carmen tried to be nonchalant, crossing the kitchen back towards Tina, his eyes cutting carefully, looking out the window. 

There you were. 

Sitting pretty at the middle table, surrounded by friends, some Carmen recognized from your Instagram. He’d actually logged in to the app, looked you up after the first date, consumed every photo of yours in the dark of his room. Cheeks burning with excited heat, stomach fluttering in a way he hadn’t felt since junior high. 

“Alright, walk five salads to nine.” Sydney called out. “Where’s our runners? God, Richie, can you run-” 

“-I got it.” Carmen called, the urgency in his tone making Tina jump behind him. Carmen took the tray before Gary could, his hands shaking as he lifted it. 

“Cousin, I can get it.” Richie frowned. 

“No, I-I got it.” Carmen nodded, swallowing down his fluttering nerves. His eyes cut to your table through the window, heart skipping when he saw you. “I got it. I’ll be- I’ll just be a second.” 

“I don’t- I can’t even handle that one right now.” Sydney sighed in exasperation. “Alright, Chefs. Let’s get back on track.” She announced, shaking her head. Richie frowned, pulling out his phone. 

Sugar’s cell buzzed against the hostess stand, excusing herself to check it. 

From: Richie 

‘Look at table nine.’ 

Sugar huffed. 

To: Richie 

‘Why? Is there something wrong?’ 

She stepped back, casually turning to scan the room, eyes landing on the table. A small group of girls, younger, and amongst them- Carmen? 

To: Richie 

‘Is something wrong with the food? Do I need to comp it?’ 

From: Richie 

‘No. Cousin wanted to go out there.’ 

Sugar frowned, angling her body behind the large plant near the front as casually as she could. She watched through the leaves as Carmen passed out the salads, each girl grinning widely, but their eyes always cut to one on the end. 

Carmen saved your salad for last, hoping the lowlights of the restaurant would hide his boyish blush, setting the bowl in front of you carefully. “Hey,” 

“Hi,” You smiled sheepishly, looking to meet his gaze. “Everything looks so good.” 

“Yeah? Thanks.” Carmen nodded. “I-I didn’t know you were comin’ tonight.” 

“I’m sorry.” You cringed softly, embarrassed heat flooding through your veins. You knew better, knew you shouldn’t have done this- showed up at his restaurant unannounced. 

“I, uh, it’s my friend’s birthday.” You nodded towards Alicia at the end of the table. “And I was telling them about that pasta you made me, and they really wanted to come try it.” Your nerves bubbled, rambling in nervous peals that seemed to pour out before you could stop them.  

“Yeah, no, that’s really nice. Thank you.” Carmen nodded, giving a half smile to your friends, hoping they didn’t see the way he wiped his clammy hands on his apron. “Why didn’t- Why didn’t you just call me? Tell me you were comin’ in.” 

“I didn’t want to bother you.” You muttered softly. “I honestly didn’t think you’d even see us here, I swear. I didn’t mean to bother you or anything-” 

“-You’re not bothering me.” Carmen’s voice dropped to a coo, accompanied with a soft smile that had your head spinning. “Never a bother, but, uh, next time? Bother me, ok? Wanna make sure you get the best seat in the house.” 

Your cheeks flushed with heat, your friends excited giggles only intensifying the rushing heat blanketing over your body. Carmen’s own cheeks heated, tongue rolling on the inside of his cheek to hide his grin. 

“Alright?” Carmen added, and in a complete act of shocking boldness, his hand squeezed your shoulder affectionately. A small gesture on the outside, but for Carmen, it was huge. 

“Alright.” You grinned, leaning into his touch, your hands sliding over his. 

“How’s everything so far?” Carmen turned to the table, nodding at the excited gushes of compliments, not missing the way your friends cut their eyes to you with animated glee. 

“Just let me know if you need anything, ok?” Carmen turned to you.

“I will.” You nodded, starry eyed with love sick affection. 

“Good. I’ll see you before you leave, alright?” Carmen muttered, ducking down towards you. His lips brushed over your cheek, your perfume clouding his senses. “You’re not botherin’ me. ‘M glad you’re here.” 

Your cheek pressed to his, a gentle, affectionate rub before Carmen parted. Both of your features painted with shy delight. 

Carmen could feel everyone’s eyes, through flickering gazes and lifted brows. Sydney’s gaze lingering over him skeptically, still counting tickets. Fak’s wide grin from the corner, loading trays to take out. 

“Hey, uh, Marcus.” Carmen ignored Richie’s raised brows, a teasing, questioning remark on the tip of his tongue. 

“Yes, Chef?” Marcus muttered, looking up from the cannolis he was garnishing. 

“Table nine has a birthday. I was thinkin’ maybe the chocolate ganache, punch it with the little circle to make it look like a cake. Add a candle?” Carmen muttered, hand rubbing across his face. 

“Yeah, Chef, I can do that.” Marcus nodded. 

“Thank you.” Carmen nodded. “And Chef? Let me know when it’s ready before you walk it.” 

Marcus frowned. “No, it’s not- I just wanna walk it, ok?” Carmen shook his head. 

“Alright.” Marcus nodded slowly. “Heard, Chef.” 

Richie smirked, leaning against the stainless steel table. “So,” Richie hummed. “There a complaint or somethin’? Need me to go talk to ‘em-” 

“-No,” Carmen snapped, the possessiveness in his tone startling the both of them. “Sorry, it’s- No, I-I don’t need you to do that, Chef. Everything’s good.” 

Richie nodded slowly, passing the dishes to Gary with a nod. “You gonna tell me what that was about?” 

“No, Chef.” Carmen clipped, an edge to his tone that was teetering on annoyed. “But, uh, there’s not gonna be a check on table nine.” 

“What?” Richie frowned. “Did you mess somethin’ up? Seriously, Cousin, if something's wrong it’s my job to know-” 

“-No, it’s not-.” Carmen huffed, eyes pinching closed, running a hand over his face in frustration. “Look, that’s… The girl on the end? I-I’ve been kinda seein’ her, ya know?” He muttered. 

Richie gawked, blinking in disbelief. “No shit.” He grinned. “No shit? You-You’re serious?” He turned to look out the window. 

“Don’t fuckin’ look.” Carmen hissed. “Look, it-it’s not a big deal, alright? Just don’t-don’t say anything o-or do anything.” 

Richie swallowed back a teasing remark, a reactive reaction from years of being with Mikey. How the two of them used to tease Carmen endlessly, until they were fighting on the front lawn, Mikey howling with laughter while Carmen was red faced with mortified anger. 

This time, Richie held back. He wasn’t sure why, call it divine intervention, a gut feeling maybe, but it felt different this time. 

“Alright.” Richie nodded slowly. “No ticket for nine. Heard.” 

Carmen’s foot tapped anxiously. “I mean, right? Th-That’s what I should do right?” Carmen looked over his shoulder out the window. “That would be shitty to give her a check? Be a complete jagoff move to charge her?” 

“Yeah,” Richie scoffed lightly. “Jagoff of the fuckin’ year. Makin’ your girl pay to come to your place.” 

Carmen’s heart swelled at the term- your girl. His girl. You were his girl. 

“Walk four Pappardelle to nine. Walk one Pappardelle vegetarian style to nine.” Sydney called. 

Carmen dipped the spoon in the glaze, garnishing the plate before sliding it towards Sydney. “So, you gonna take these out?” He muttered. 

“No,” Carmen huffed. “Gonna wait until the cake.” 

“Yeah, good idea, Cousin.” Richie nodded with a proud smile. “That when you’re gonna tell them no check tonight?” 

“No,” Carmen shook his head. “I don’t- It would feel weird comin’ from me.” He looked up at Richie. “I was gonna let you do it.” 

“Yeah, I can handle that.” Richie smirked. “And I won’t say anything, Cousin.” He stopped Carmen before he could say it. “I got you, Cousin. I won’t fuck it up, alright?” 

Carmen nodded slowly, a strangled thank you on the tip of his tongue. The door swung open behind Richie, and for a second, Carmen caught a glimpse of you. Smiling and laughing, leaned in over the table, no doubt giggling with your friends about him. Carmen’s heart squeezed, but this time, without fear. No, there was no dooming fear that you were mocking him, making fun of him. This time, he felt the content rush of adrenaline filled love. A change in his routine, yes. Unexpected, sure, but he was glad for it. Glad that you were there- here, with him.

#thebearer #bearblahs #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #the bear #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto fluff #carmen 'carmy' berzatto #carmen berzatto blurb #carmen berzatto imagine #carmy x you #carmen berzatto ​x fem!reader #carmen berzatto x female!reader #carmen berzatto x you #richie jerimovich #marcus brooks #sydney amadu #tina the bear #neil fak #sugar berzatto #carmy fluff #carmy berzatto fluff #the bear fic #carmy the bear #the bear fanfiction #the bear hulu #carmen berzatto fic #carmen berzatto fanfiction #thebearerblurbs

[sashaforthewin]

Multi-chapter fic on Ao3

Steve had been enjoying a nice relaxing lounge by the pool despite it being night. He had his hearing aid off and his fruity drink and a romance novel Robin had let him borrow. He was determined to have a good time despite the circumstances. 

Someone tapped his foot, scaring the crap out of Steve and making him drop his book and nearly knock over his drink. 

It was a fellow cruise passenger and he was saying something. Steve turned his hearing aid back on.

“Sorry, what?”

“I asked why you were out here instead of at the concert,” repeated the man with a smile.

“Oh, um. I’m not actually a fan of metal music. It gives me headaches if I listen to more than one or two songs in a row,” Steve admitted sheepishly.

This stranger was still clearly a metal head, but he looked significantly less scary than most of the ones he had seen so far that day. Everyone Steve met had been nice, but Steve hadn’t felt comfortable telling anyone he wasn’t a fan until now. Maybe because it was just the two of them out here and he was smiling so cutely. 

“Not a metal fan? Well damn, not to critique your life choices, but I think maybe going on a metal cruise wasn’t an ideal choice for you? I’m Eddie, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, I’m Steve.”

There were plenty of deck lounges around, all empty, but Eddie sat down on Steve’s right next to his legs. 

“Steve. So Steve, why are you on a metal cruise when you don’t like metal? These tickets were not exactly cheap and there’s no way you missed the theme, it was pretty clearly advertised,” Eddie asked teasingly.

Steve looked Eddie over, noting that he was actually pretty cute. Pretty eyes, nice full lips, dimples, and he was that type of lanky Steve was drawn to. He had good skin and his hair had some volume and texture to it, Steve could work with that. Bit of a fixer-upper, but a better starting point than most of the men that had flirted with him since his last failed relationship. He also had the vibe, so Steve decided this guy would be fine to open up to. 

“Well, Eddie, I bought this ticket for my dear friend Dustin for his birthday, but then the little shit went and outed me to my parents. Accidentally, of course, and he feels like shit about it. But still, that got me kicked out of my home so maybe I’m being petty but I decided he shouldn’t get to go on this cruise after all. I forgive him, it really was an accident, but still, gotta teach him a lesson.” Steve shrugged. “And I would’ve gotten the ticket refunded but the money would’ve gone back to my parents and they clearly don’t deserve to get anything back from me. So, instead of trying to figure out how to sell a ticket to a very niche interest cruise, I figured I deserved to just come and treat myself for four days before I have to go back to living in my ex-girlfriend’s basement. It’s actually pretty nice to have the ship to myself while all you guys are in there shaking your heads to loud music.” Steve gestured to the pool and the drink.

“Ex- girl friend’s basement?” Eddie asked.

“Shut up, I’m bi.” Steve smacked Eddie on the arm with his book. 

Eddie grabbed the book and looked at it as he replied, “Hey, just checking to make sure I’m not barking up the wrong tree.”

“Oh? Is that what you’re doing, barking up my tree?” Steve said, playfully.

“If you’ll let me,” Eddie flirted back.

“So how come you’re not in the show right now?” Steve asked, gently stealing his book back from Eddie’s grasp.

“Oh, I’m touring with those guys right now, I have heard them play the same set like fifteen times already. I’d much rather be out here getting to chat with you. You know you’re beautiful, right? How come you don’t live with your boyfriend? Or girlfriend?” Eddie asked, quite obvious in his fishing for information.

“I’m single and yes, I do know I’m beautiful, but I still like hearing it. Are you like a roadie or something?”

“Actually,” Eddie said, “I’m the lead guitarist in the headlining band. We play tomorrow night. Can I buy you another drink? Maybe dinner?”

“The, uh, the bill goes to our cabins,” Steve answered, too shocked that an apparently famous musician was asking him out to respond appropriately.

“Baby, I’ll put your entire tab on my cabin if you’ll let me. You are the most beautiful, and dare I say cleanest man on this entire boat. Metal heads are great, but they aren’t really my type.”

Steve takes a sip of his cold drink just to make sure he’s not fallen asleep and dreaming. The ocean is calm and the moon is full and he is most definitely awake.

“And what is your type?” Steve asked. 

“Handsome men with soft hands who will let me pamper them,” Eddie said, picking up Steve’s hand and feeling his lack of calluses. He placed a kiss onto each finger tip. “These hands aren’t meant for labor, let me spoil you rotten.”

Well, Steve reasoned, even if this ended up being just a weekend fling, it was going to be worth the price of admission.

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington/eddie munson #my fic

[miley1442111]

fix it-a.hotchner

a/n: i imagined a fem reader but as per usual, imagine what you like :)

please don't read if you have emetophobia!!!!

summary: aaron says some horrible things, can he fix it?

pairing: husband! aaron hotchner x wife! reader

warnings: mad angst, aaron is so mean, reader believes she is a bad mother, heartbreak, feelings of disappointment, jack is so sweet, reader is pregnant, talks of pregnancy, talks of vomiting and morning sickness, no happy ending :(

part 2- fix it together

It was all coming down to this. It was Jack’s birthday and as his step-mom, you had been party planning all week. He was having a dinosaur themed birthday with a bounce house and watching a movie in the backyard, like a little drive in movie. You were excited for him. Aaron hadn’t really been around much that week, he was busy dealing with some legal battle the FBI was up against, meaning the rest of the team, including yourself, had the week off. It was Friday night, Jack’s actual birthday and he was asleep in bed as you waited for Aaron to get home. You were reading a book Spencer had recommended you as you nursed a cup of tea, getting sleepier by the second. 

The front door opened and there Aaron stood, briefcase in hand, handsome as ever. You smiled and got up from your spot on the couch, ready to greet him. He smiled softly as you hugged him, running a hand through his hair. “How did it go?” you asked, your voice just above a whisper.

“Oh it was fine, nothing too jarring. How was the week?” He asked, walking further into the house. 

“Fine. Nothing to report. Jack’s asleep but-”

“Did you do something for his birthday?” He asked, cutting you off. 

“Yeah, of course. I picked him up from school early and we went for lunch and to a film. He really enjoyed himself,” you smiled and he sighed. “Is everything ok?”

“Yeah, fine,” Passive aggressive. Aaron was being passive aggressive.

“Aaron,” You said, worry coating your words. “Is everything ok?”

“Yes! Everything is just fine,” He sighed again, sitting on the couch. “Just one thing though- you didn’t think to offer him to see his mom?” He asked, malice behind every word. The accusation cut you deeply. Of course you’d asked, but he’d said no. He said ‘I don’t want to go without dad’ because of course he wouldn’t. He didn’t want to go to his moms grave without his dad, and not on his birthday either. You stood there, stunned at his words. He continued. “Y’know, you promised me this wouldn’t be an issue, so tell me now, is this an issue Y/N? I need to know because we can still get an annulment.” 

You gasped at his words. “Aaron stop-”

“No, you stop. You are not his mother. She is. She still is, even if she’s gone. You’ll never be his mother. You’re doing a good job of parenting but nothing compares to Haley. Thank god you’re not his actual mother.”

That was venomous. He was going straight for every insecurity you had around your relationship with Jack and throwing it in your face. He was hurting you. 

The silence was heavy. Aaron finally looked at your face and saw the disgust written all over it. The worst part was the fact that he knew it wasn't disgust at his actions, it was disgust directed at yourself and your parenting. You loved and adored Jack, he knew that. He knew, though he’d never admit it, that Jack liked you more than him, or maybe it was just his insecurity speaking, he wasn’t sure. He knew you gave everything of yourself to the both of them. And he knew he’d just done irreversible damage. 

“I offered,” you muttered, your eyes trained on the floor as you wrapped your arms around your chest, pleading with yourself to not cry. You felt silly, standing there, in his hoodie, his home, and seeing his child as your own. “He said he wanted to wait for you. I said we’d go on Sunday.” 

Aaron’s stomach dropped at the tone of your voice and the words being spoken. He was making you cry. He was hurting you. And all you’d ever been to him was perfectly kind. You’d always been so supportive, so loving, and so caring. As he came in he saw a love note on the fridge, he’d seen one of his favourite chocolate bars on the counter with a note beside it, a little wrapped gift beside it too. There were multiple reminders on the fridge for yourself, ones telling you to pick up things for the party, pick up Jack’s big birthday gift (a new bike), and call Jessica. You cared so much about the both of them, and he’d just said some of the worst things he could’ve, just because he was stressed.

Imagine how stressed you were, planning an entire party on your own while simultaneously working through hours and hours of paperwork (courtesy of your job, you were still working from home even if you weren't technically working), and parenting all week, all alone. 

���There’s dinner in the fridge, I-I’m going to go to bed,” you mumbled, walking about and leaving him alone with his thoughts. He heard your footsteps retract, walking up the stairs and in the opposite direction of your shared bedroom. Shit. You were sleeping in the guest room. 

He got up, irritation and shame barely allowing him to get to the kitchen to eat the meal you’d made him. Why was he like this? Why couldn’t he have just listened to you? 

He sat alone eating, his eyes drifting to the gift on the counter the entire time. I don’t deserve it. He thought, but caved once he finished his food and cleaned up. He pulled the small bow off and unwrapped the colourful paper to reveal a positive pregnancy test. His heart broke again. Inside beside it was a note, in your beautiful handwriting. 

To my dearest Aaron, 

I wanted to tell you the second I found out but I also didn’t want you to come home too early when you were still needed in Washington. We’re pregnant! I’m so excited and nervous and happy and scared all at the same time. I didn’t want to upstage Jack’s birthday but I obviously needed to tell you :) 

I love you so much and I can’t wait for this next chapter! No more guest bedroom I guess :) 

P.s I’m almost sure Jack knows, I’ve been having horrible morning sickness :( but at least this fulfils his christmas wish last year, remember ? 

Anyways, I love you so much and I’m so excited. 

Your love, Y/N

Xxxx 

He felt sick to his stomach. You were pregnant. He’d just been evilly cruel to you and you were pregnant. He’d said some of the most vile things on planet earth to you, he essentially called you a bad mother. And you were pregnant. He hadn’t even realised he was crying until he saw the splotches on the paper, ruining one of the cute doodles you’d done. He immediately put it down, not wanting to damage it further. 

He took a deep breath, then went into his study and allowed himself to cry. He’d been mean. He’d hurt you in the one way he promised he wouldn’t, all because he was overwhelmed. All because he was stressed. 

“Dad?” He heard Jack’s voice and straightened. He wiped his face. “Why are you upset?” Jack walked into his office, pyjamas and a teddy in hand. 

“I did something mean to mom,” he admitted. “And I hurt her by accident,” he wasn’t sure if it was by accident. He was sure some deep part of him just wanted to self-sabotage himself. “And I feel bad about it.”

“It’ll be ok. Mom’s been sick this week, maybe you have the same tummy ache and it’s making you mad?” He suggested and Aaron let out a pathetic chuckle. 

“Maybe bud, maybe,” he agreed. “How about we get you back to bed, huh?” 

“Can I say goodnight to mom again?” He asked and Aaron’s heart broke again. He lifted him up and nodded, walking them down the hall. “You go into her and I’ll get your bed ready, yeah?” 

“OK dad!” Jack exclaimed as he was let down to the ground, and went running off to your shared bedroom. Aaron shook his head. 

“She’s in the other bedroom,” he pushed down another wave of tears at Jack’s confused face. 

“Why?” He asked, confused. 

“I was really mean,” Aaron sniffled. “Say goodnight from me too?”

“Ok dad,” Jack said, walking into the guest room. 

Aaron heard your voice, wishing Jack good dreams. You’d been crying. 

He was the worst person in the world. 

Jack came into his bedroom a few minutes later. “Mom’s still sick, she said goodnight and to tell you that she loves you.”

Aaron almost started crying again. You were so caring. You always put him above yourself. “Thanks buddy.” 

Aaron tucked him in and closed his door over, wishing him a good night. The tears came shortly after. He tried to sleep in your shared bed, but it wasn’t right. You weren’t there. 

Sleep evaded him that night. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next morning, the morning sickness hit you like a truck. You had your head in the toilet for an hour, at least. You didn’t come out of the guest room until about 9am. You could hear the usual sounds of Jack and Aaron playing outside, probably soccer. You walked downstairs and got yourself a glass of water, the only thing you could actually stomach at the minute. You looked out the window that led to your garden and smiled when you saw your boys playing, then the nagging voice that you thought you’d gotten rid of all but screamed in your ear You’re such a terrible parent. Aaron’s just been trying to conserve your feelings this entire time. Jack probably hates you. You shouldn’t be having another child. 

You looked away. Focus on the party. You told yourself. Get through today.

You had a long list of things that needed doing before the party at 3. You had to pick up balloons, pick up the cake, pick up Jessica and her kids, pick up Sean from the airport (as a surprise for Aaron and Jack), and set everything up. You left a small note on the table explaining where you were, and left. You ran all your errands, leaving picking up Jessica, the kids, and Sean till last. When you walked back in, the house was set up and Jack was immediately excitedly by Jessica, his cousins, and Sean which gave you a moment to slip away from Aaron.

Soon enough, the party started and you were bombarded with around forty children and a party to have. You felt Aaron's eyes on you constantly, checking in on you or just watching you. Once the outdoor film started, Penelope, Emily, Jj, and Spencer came over to ask what was wrong with you and Aaron, saying it was strange to not see you all over each other. You told them about the fight (not the pregnancy) and they were shocked at his behaviour. How could he be so mean? How could he treat you like that?

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Aaron had been trying to talk to you for hours. Whenever he tried, a kid or one of the team would stop him with a dumb question, or needing help. You had Emily, Penelope, Jj, and Spencer crowding you the entire night, sending him the dirtiest of looks. That’s how he ended up at the end of the garden with David and Derek, who were both giving him a lecture about how what he’d done was wrong. 

“You can't say anyone is a bad parent!” Derek stressed. “That’s a very clear no-go!”

“I’m aware,” Aaron said, his lips tight in a frown. “I know what I did was wrong.”

“Then why aren’t you apologising?!” Derek exclaimed, loud enough that a few kids turned around to shush him. 

“Because,” Aaron sighed. “Those four haven’t left her side in hours.” 

As the movie came to a close and the children left, you were left with just the team and family. 

You all sat down to dinner, chinese takeout- Jack’s favourite. There was laughter and true joy, especially at David’s insistence that he could make the meal much better than Jack's favourite take-out, considering he was a ‘chef’. 

You all sat down to watch Jack open his gifts, individually thanking each person who gave him something. He was especially taken by the gift Spencer got him, a book on dinosaurs, and he adored the bike. You’d gotten one that you'd made look similar to Sean’s motorbike, Jack was always obsessed with Sean's motorbike. You’d even drawn on specific details that made it even more unique. Everyone eventually trailed out and it was just you, Jack, Sean, and Aaron. Jack asked Sean to read his bedtime story. That meant you and Aaron were left to clean up together. You got up to start picking up plates but Aaron stopped you. 

“Can I?” He offered and you nodded, sitting on the couch. You hadn’t eaten at dinner, all food just meant more vomiting in the morning and you were not up for that. “Can we talk?” He asked. 

“About what?” You sighed, looking over at him. “I think we’ve both said enough.”

“I’m so sorry about last night,” he sighed, coming over to you and sitting beside you. “I was awful. I was disgustingly mean just because I was overwhelmed. You’re an amazing mother to Jack, while you’re not his biological mother, you love him as such and he loves you. You’re a great parent. I was just being reactive and mean. I was so cruel and I'm sorry. I don’t want an annulment. I want to be with you forever. I know that it isn’t a problem. I know how much you love Jack and me,” he chuckled humorlessly. “I know how little I deserve it.”

You took his hand. “What you said… it was probably my worst nightmare,” you chuckled flatly. “And what you said was pretty damaging, Aaron. I just… it completely restarted the voice in my head that says I’m a terrible parent. It made me scared to think about what’s going to happen when we have our baby. I was already terrified about being pregnant, and this was just…” you trailed off as Aaron’s heart broke. Your voice was raw with emotion. You were so hurt. 

“I will spend the rest of my life proving to you that you are the best mother our children could ever have,” he promised and you smiled, but it lacked the regular spark your smiles usually contained. 

“The best mother Jack could have is Haley. We both know that.”

Fuck. Now you were comparing yourself to Haley again. Aaron had quite literally set you back about 4 years in your confidence as Jack’s mother. “Honey-”

“I know it sounds bad, but we both know it’s true. I’m good, but as you said, I’m nothing compared to Haley. Which is fine Aaron. I understand my place.”

His heart broke for what felt like the millionth time. He’d hurt you so badly. “Honey please, I was stressed and overwhelmed and I took it out on you. I meant nothing I said. You’re the best mother to Jack and our unborn child. You are the love of my life-”

“I’m the second love of your life,” you smiled sadly at him. “I’m going to bed, goodnight Aaron.” 

You walked up the stairs with a heavy heart. No matter what he said, you’ll always remember the look on his face when he told you that you weren’t enough, that you weren't Haley.

You fell asleep on your side of the bed, since you couldn’t exactly sleep in the guest room when Sean was in there. 

Aaron leaned against the counter as he washed dishes, thinking about how he could fix this. 

Could he even fix this?

——————————————————————————-------------------

criminal minds masterlist

#criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #bau team #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner angst #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch hotchner #hotch

[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

Can you do a Tom blyth x reader where in a interview , the interviewer asks him if he wants to marry and have kids in the future and he answers that he already has a daughter with the reader and after few days he posts on Instagram a photo of his daughter playing in the grass when he was filming the movie nad the fans going crazy ( about how cute she is and smth like that )

My Girl || Tom Blyth x Actress!reader

A/n: baby fever right now is astronomically high 😭😭 also this song is my absolute fav and feels like it matches with this so def go listen to it!!!

Warnings: none :)

Wc:

Divider by @pommecita

“Tom, your fans have been asking if you plan on marrying and having children in the future,” Tom nods his head, a smile forming on his lips, “What can you say to them?” The interviewer directs her mic to Tom.

He could feel your eyes burning into the side of his face as his grip on your waist squeezes. “Marrying and having children?” Tom repeats. You watch in anticipation as you give him an encouraging smile. The two of you had been waiting for a moment like this.

It’s been three years since you gave birth to your daughter, Elsie, three years since Tom became a dad. The public had no idea whatsoever and you intended to keep it the way for a few years longer. Well, after a long conversation with Tom, it was time to stop hiding from the public.

“This is the first time I’ve actually spoken about this to the public but I have a daughter already,” His words make the women holding the mic gasp out loud as you both let out a chuckle at her reaction. “I know, shocking right!” Tom smiles.

“You have a daughter Tom? With….” She trails off as her eyes move to you. Tom pulls you to his chest as you give the woman a grin, nodding your head as she puts her hand on her chest and lets out another gasp. “Am I the first to know about this outside your close circles?” She asks.

“Yes! We’ve thought long and hard about releasing such private information but we decided it’s time we tell everyone. We can’t hide this forever,” You say as Tom watches you and nods. “Well there we have it! Tom Blyth and Y/n Y/l/n have a child together!” The interview says to the camera as you wave her goodbye and move along with the other cast members.

“That felt good,” You look up at Tom, happy to get it out. “It sure did, darling” He rubs your arm as the two of you take pictures for the paparazzi. Safe to say, that interview was blowing up.

Fans had mixed reactions to the news. Some were incredibly happy for the two of you, and some were utterly shocked at the news and were surprised at how the two of you kept this information on the low.

As you and Tom were doing the world promo tour with the rest of the cast members, there was always a question that popped up relating to your daughter, Elsie.

“Tom, Y/n! I think the internet is in shock to learn that you are parents to a three year old daughter, am I correct?” The man infront of you says as you both nod. “Yes! Our daughter’s name is Elsie, and we had a feeling this would shock fans quite a bit,” You quietly chuckle to yourself.

“It definitely has! How did you two pull this off? You know, not making fans suspect anything?” He asks as Tom replies, “Uh I think it was just mainly being super private about our personal lives. We both don’t share such information like that which lets us live peacefully without cameras following us around.”

“And you’ve done a wonderful job at that since we never knew about your three year old daughter,” He smiles as Tom thanks him, “Can you tell us more about Elsie? If you can?” He politely asks as you nod. “Of course. Well uh Elsie is very much a daddy’s girl,” You all chuckle as Tom holds your knee affectionately.

“She loves the outdoor so much, that’s where she wants to be most of the time.” Tom adds. “And how was it that you found out that you were going to be a dad, Tom?“

“Yes, so Y/n told me she was pregnant on my birthday in February I think it was?” He looks at you in confirmation as you nod, “It was actually during my auditioning progress for Billy the Kid. So when I got the role and started filming mid to late 2021, Elsie was already born”

“We were both 25 at the time and we felt like we were ready to you know, move onto the next chapter of our lives. I remember for my birthday, Y/n’s present to me was this baby onesie that said ‘daddy’s girl’” The man awes as Tom reminisces the moment.

“I was so shocked and happy that I started crying,” He laughs, “Correction, we started to cry,” You butt in with a small giggle. “I do have to mention, Y/n! You went through your pregnancy without the public even noticing! How in the world did you manage that as a public figure.

“It wasn’t hard, but at the same time it sort of was,” You let out a low chuckle as Tom rubs your thigh, listening to you talk. “I didn’t have any roles booked for that year so I just stayed on the low. I did what any other typical people did when they didn’t want others to notice your pregnancy which was to wear baggy clothes, covering my stomach and stuff like that.”

“I also made sure that people wouldn’t be able to recognise me when I was out in public and it worked very well.” “It did indeed. I think everyone wants to know, how’s life with a three year old daughter while filming. Was Elsie with the two of you went you filmed tbosas?”

“Yes she was actually! Everyone on set knew that we hadn’t said anything to the public about our daughter and they were such wonderful people and respected that. My mom also was with us to take care of Elsie when we weren’t able to.” “I don’t know how we would have lasted all those months without her honestly. She made everyone on set laugh, I actually think the cast members will start posting pictures of bts with Elsie now that we’ve released this information” Tom laughs as his mind goes back to all the time the crew would laugh at Elsie’s cuteness.

~

“You posted a picture on your instagram a couple days ago of you and your daughter, can you tell us a little bit of background information of this picture?” “Is this the one of you and Elsie in the forest?” You turn your head to Tom as he nods. “Yes! So that was the last day we filmed all the scenes in the forest. We’ve already said this I think but our daughter absolutely loves nature.”

“During takes she would just play around and I remember this one time, We were going through a scene and then Elsie just came up to me and clung around my leg while the cameras were rolling, do you remember that?” Tom grins at you as you recall the moment.

“I do, I have a video of it in my camera roll, it made everyone awe at her.” You let out a giggle as the interviewer smiles at the two of you. “It seems to me that the crew was pretty close to Elsie? Am I right in saying that?” You nod in agreement with her.

“We felt incredibly grateful of how everyone was so kind and supportive of the idea of Elsie being with us during the entirety of the filming process. The cast members would always be playing with her during our takes, and Elsie grew very fond of all of them.”

“Especially Viola actually!” Tom interjects as the interviewer gasps, “Really?” “Yes! Viola is such a sweetheart I honestly love her so much. Even when she was in her costume and she kinda looked terrifying, Elsie would always run up to her after the cameras stop rolling.” He chuckles.

The two of you honestly loved talking about Elsie during all your interviews. Your face would always hurt from smiling too much when you reminisce all the moments of your daughter during filming.

#tom blyth #tom blyth imagine #tom blyth x reader #dad!tomblyth #fanfiction #coriolanus snow #the hunger games #hunger games the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tomblythxactress!reader #tomblythfluff #coriolanus x reader #tom blyth x actress!reader #dad!tom blyth x reader #social media #social media au

[dreamings-free]

.

#beard anons: #i don’t know what is going on but something has shifted #she’s still walking the dogs and seems to stay at the house #(which I don’t believe louis actually lives in when he’s home) #but she’s doing a terrible job at pretending to be his gf #(not sure she’s even trying anymore tbh) #like.. what’s with the sour face shouldn’t she be happy to finally get to spend some time with her bf ? #anyway I think we need to see what happens with L’s birthday christmas and New Years #apparently that resort in dubai opens jan 20th #$ #.

[itgetsdark-x]

Something In Your Mouth

Summary: what’s a little night out if not for a bit of teasing fun with your dad’s best-friend?

Warnings: 18+ minors dni, mentions of alcohol, age gap (Joel’s age unspecified), oral (m receiving), unprotected p in v (do better!!), edging, orgasm denial, forced orgasm (kinda), use of good girl etc, mild humiliation / degrading. idk i feel a lil unhinged with this one besties.

Characters: dbf!joel miller x (f) reader

Word Count: 5.3k

You pressed your glossy lips together to ensure that the hot pink covered every area of your pout and you smiled at your friend in the reflection of your bedroom mirror. 

“Girl, I’m telling you… Tonight is the night that I finally fuck Joel Miller.” You smirked, taking the bottle from your friend, Sasha’s hands and taking a long swig of the warming liquor.

“Ha! Yeah right… Are we on about the same Joel Miller here? Your dad’s friend, the single father himself and what’s that? Oh yeah, he’s ancient, old enough to be your own dad! He won’t touch you, jailbait, give up.” She laughed again as your flipped her off.

“Sash, I am in my mid-twenties, closer to thirty than I am twenty. Not to mention, I’m hot okay?! There are worse women Joel could sleep with. I’m just saying… I think it’s a good idea. I just get big dick energy from him y’know? I mean, have you seen his hands?! His fingers. I actually feel like if I don’t have him soon, I’m gonna go legally insane.” You huffed.

Sasha shook her head as you stood from your bed to get changed. You flung your comfy t-shirt and shorts into your friend’s direction and grabbed the outfit you had hung on your door. Tonight’s attire was an ensemble of a black leather skirt, hot pink tank top and your trusty platform Doc Marten boots.

“Be fucking real right now, that is not your underwear of choice for the evening!” Sasha all but screeched as she caught a glimpse of your undergarments as you began changing your outfit.

“What?!” You asked with feign innocence.

“You’re wearing a hot pink thong with matching bra. Please tell me this is not for Miller.” She sighed with exasperation, pinching at the bridge of her nose.

“Maybe it is… but hey, if Joel doesn’t want some tonight I’m sure some other lucky guy will appreciate the efforts I have gone to.” You shrugged, winking at your friend. “Now, how ‘bout you quit your judging and get changed so we can get to the bar! The girls are meeting us there.”

Sasha groaned with effort as she stood and joined you in getting changed.

———

The bar was busy, you were meeting your friends there to celebrate your upcoming birthday which meant your father was going to be there and in turn, so was Joel. You weren’t a complete idiot, you knew that trying to get with Joel was a huge risk for you both; if your father ever found out, you would most likely be forbidden to ever leave your apartment ever again and well, you couldn’t even imagine what your dad would do to Joel.

Which also meant you had to be calculated with how you went about it; no blatant flirting or teasing in front of your dad, you had to play your cards right, keep them close to your chest.

As soon as you and Sasha arrived into the dimly lit bar, your friends herded over to you and enveloped you in a big hug. You squealed with delight and greeted them all individually before your dad walked over, with the older Miller in tow close behind.

“There’s my princess, happy early birthday, sweetheart.” Your dad beamed, hugging you and kissing your temple.

“Thanks dad, and thanks for actually showing up! I know hanging out with us girls isn’t at the top of your Friday night agenda. Same for you Joel, thanks for coming.” You smiled bashfully at him before he closed the space between you both and gave you a quick squeeze.

Your head span and you could feel your heart threatening to beat right out of your chest, his heady cologne drowning your senses and driving you mad. It was an immediate effect and you couldn’t stop the way your core throbbed at the contact.

“Gotcha a drink darlin’. Happy early birthday.” He flashed a smile in your direction and gave you a glass filled with amber-coloured liquid. “Yes, it’s our favourite. Southern Comfort and lemonade.”

You grinned at him and took a swig of the drink gratefully, just as you turned to talk to your father again, you were almost certain you could feel Joel’s eyes raking over your body with hunger.

———

As the night wore on, the drinks flowed and the laughter grew rowdier and louder as the music in the bar was turned up. You were dancing with a couple of your friends, every now and then your eyes would catch Joel’s; he sat at the bar talking to your dad and nursing his whiskey.

“Sash, did you see the way he keeps looking at me? And earlier? Please tell me you saw that!” You whined.

“Ugh. God. I hate to feed your delusions but I did see it and I see it now. Even with your back turned, he’s watching you. Fuckin’ weird and intense, it’s like a predator with his prey. Waiting to strike.” She huffed, voice just loud enough for you to catch over the pop music playing.

“Okay… But why is that hot as fuck?” You laughed, throwing your head back as your danced. “I just need my dad to clear off, I love him but I can’t hit on his friend when he right there. That would be weird.”

You carried on dancing, with your friends and even with a couple of men when they tried it; you couldn’t help but notice the way Joel’s stare seemed to intensify when any man came near you, it made you smile to know that he was watching you.

One particular man caught your attention, he was similar to you in age, as far as you assumed and he was handsome, definitely easy on the eyes but nowhere near anywhere as good as Joel. He smirked at you from the bar and closed the distance between you until his hand was on your hip and he was dancing with you. You smiled sweetly at him, peering up at him through your lashes as you brought your thumb up to your glossy lips to suck on it seductively. You flashed a glance over to Joel who looked like he was ready to kill. 

Bingo. You thought to yourself and danced with the handsome male in front of you, the music boomed and you swayed your hips against him, you span yourself around so you could press your ass to his crotch and you smirked over at Joel once again who was now alone at the bar. Your fingers clutched your glass as you wrapped your lips around the thin, red straw and sucked up the cool drink. 

Joel quirked a brow at you, with a look that you couldn’t quite place, it seemed to settle somewhere between lust and utter disdain for you. You gave him a little wave and turned back to face the man you were dancing with, you looped your arms loosely around his neck and continued to dance along to the loud music. 

The nameless man leant down and whispered into your ear, the music distorted his voice but he said something about leaving with him which caused you to giggle. You got up onto your tiptoes to whisper back into his ear but felt a foreign hand pressed against the small of your back. The guy you were just dancing with backed away with his hands held up in innocence. 

“Hey!” You turned around with a deep frown. “Oh… hey, Joel.” You smiled.

“Your daddy left a little while ago, he saw you dancing and didn’t want to… disturb since you seemed busy…” He scoffed. 

“Well I was a lil busy, and now he’s gone. Whatcha want?” You huffed. 

“Don’t fuck around, little girl. We both know what you’re playin’ at.” 

“What?!” You asked with feigned innocence.

“Darlin’” he warned lowly in your ear, his voice sending shivers through you. “You’re out here, shakin’ your ass for everyone.”

“And? Last time I checked, I’m single, of age and having a bit of fun. Is that not allowed, Mr Miller? Not even on my birthday?” You asked sweetly, batting your eyelashes at him. 

Joel scoffed and rolled his eyes at you, this fake-innocence crap wasn’t getting anywhere with him and he knew you were doing it to get a reaction from him. 

“You’re being a little tease, darlin’ and I think you know it.” He growled, his voice low in your ear. 

You swallowed roughly, even with the drinks you had, your mouth suddenly felt impossibly dry with nerves. You shook your head to Joel and he just chuckled. 

“No, no… You know what you’re doing, I know you’ve been trying to get my attention all night and well, congrats. You’ve got my attention. So what now? What do you want, hm?” He asked, leaning back to gauge your reaction. 

“I — I, I want -“ You stumbled over your words dumbly, without a coherent sentence forming. 

“Hm?” He hummed, he took your hand and trailed it down his hard chest, down his stomach and let it graze across his crotch. 

Even with barely touching him, you could feel the hard length of his cock through the rough material of his worn jeans. You pushed your legs together in the vain hope of staving off the throbbing between them, you could feel your panties get slick as you imagined sinking to your knees and sucking Joel. 

“Funny, you seemed to be playing the big girl earlier, princess. Dancing with anyone, swinging your ass and hips for them. What’s the matter? Cat gotcha tongue now?” He smirked, his voice a soft coo in your ear. 

“I want you to fuck me.” You blurted out, unceremoniously and immediately, your cheeks burned with embarrassment. “I mean, I uh — ignore me. I’m gonna go find my friends.” You muttered. 

Joel shook his head and held onto your elbow roughly. “Come home with me then, darlin’. My truck is parked out back.”

“You’ve been drinking, I’ve had some drinks. One, I don’t wanna die in your rust-bucket truck and two, this is stupid. I’m being stupid.” You spoke quickly. 

“Firstly, I’m gonna ignore you just called my truck a rust-bucket, that’s a whole other conversation and two, I’ve had two drinks, perfectly fine to drive. And as long as you’re sober enough to consent, and you do wanna do this. I think it’s a wonderful idea. Maybe just don’t tell your daddy.” He laughed. 

You nodded dumbly, words failing you once again and let yourself be led out of the bar by Joel; you briefly shot a look behind you and for a second, you caught eyes with Sasha who just smirked at you as you left. 

—

Joel opened the truck door for you to climb in, you grabbed the handle on the side and hauled yourself in; knowing your skirt would rise and give Joel a quick glimpse of your skimpy fabric. 

Joel had to all but bite back a groan as he saw the flash hot pink, the curve of your ass just enveloping the lace as you sat down. 

“Fucking hell.” He cursed as he closed the door to his truck and went to the drivers side. “You really are a naughty little tease, aren’t you?” He laughed. 

You shrugged at him with a sheepish smile; in truth you weren’t always this bad but tonight it got you exactly what you wanted and you couldn’t bring yourself to care. 

Joel started his truck and within seconds of driving down the road, you reached your hand across the bench to palm at his cock; your delicate fingers wrapped around his half hard length through his jeans and you couldn’t help but shiver in anticipation. 

He felt thick, even when only half hard and your mouth watered at the thought of his thick cock hitting the back of your throat. 

“Impatient much?” Joel laughed, flashing a quick smirk in your direction. 

“I need to taste you, like, immediately.” You hummed, you knew it sounded cringey and cliche but you needed it more than you could comprehend. 

“Maybe let’s wait until we are back at mine — fuck —.” Joel cursed as your fingers quickly undid his jeans and dipped into the waistband of his boxers, albeit a little awkwardly. 

“I’m sat here, and I’m wet. I’m talking, on the verge of dripping onto my thighs. I want you. In a way I’ve never wanted a man before so… how about you let me get you warmed up so when we get back to yours, you can have your way with me.” You reasoned, your voice blunt. 

Joel couldn’t argue with that reasoning so he gently lifted his ass off the seat to allow you easier access to pull his thick cock out from his boxers. Your fingers expertly wrapped around his length and you marvelled at the fact your finger tips barely met. You stroked his shaft a few times as you felt him fully harden under your touch. 

You couldn’t help but giggle; it was immature and girlish but in this moment, you felt giddy. You awkwardly repositioned yourself so you could duck your head down and suck the tip of his cock into your wet mouth. 

Joel’s fingers tensed on his steering wheel, you could hear the squeak of the leather protest under his grasp as you wrapped your mouth around the male fully and sank your head down, enveloping him further. 

You kept a hand wrapped around the base of his cock and bobbed your head slowly, a soft moan being muffled by the fullness in your mouth. 

Above you, Joel groaned deeply as your tongue swirled around the tip and you grazed your teeth gently against his frenulum. 

“Oh fuck!” Joel cursed out, one hand coming down to grip into your hair tightly; he couldn’t help the way his hand pushed your head down further. “You look so good with my cock in your mouth. Fuck.” He praised, brushing some hair away so he could catch a better glimpse of the sight below him. 

You hummed in appreciation as you bobbed your head, your hand moving in perfect synchronicity with your skilled mouth. You removed Joel’s cock with a loud pop and you smirked at the male. You moved to kiss at his neck and your teeth grazed over his ear. 

“Tastes better than any sucker I’ve ever had.” You purred, your voice low and sultry. 

“You’re trouble.” Joel stated with a soft groan as your lips continued to kiss down his neck and your head travelled down south once more. “But you look so much cuter with something in your mouth, that’s its princess.” He cooed as your mouth sank around his cock once more. 

The drive back to Joel’s was a short one, even if he did contemplate driving around the block a couple more times just so he could feel your mouth around him for longer. 

Joel pulled into his drive, by this point you were sat up right and running a thumb along your bottom lip to tidy up your lip gloss. Joel tucked himself back into his jeans haphazardly before turning off the ignition to his truck. 

“Inside, quickly. I don’t need the neighbours seeing me bringing you home. You know how rumours spread ‘round here.” He mumbled and it was true, most people knew Joel and they in turn, knew your father. You could almost heard the whispers that would spread around this part of town if they caught wind of what you were doing with Joel. 

You hopped out his truck and walked to his front door ahead of him, making sure to keep a clear distance from the older male; no matter how hard your fingers were itching to explore his body. 

Joel held onto the small of your back as he quickly unlocked his front door and ushered you into the familiar space. 

“Upstairs. You know where my room is.” He stated bluntly as he removed his boots. 

You nodded without another word and silently went up the stairs; you may have been playing the confident card in the truck but now that you were here, now that you were in his house, your hands were shaking with nerves and anticipation. 

Joel entered the room a mere few seconds later and he smiled at you. 

“So you’re not that much of a little brat that you can follow basic instructions.” He cooed. 

You nodded, biting on your lip as you watched Joel effortlessly remove his t-shirt. Just as you pictured it; his chest was tanned and peppered with soft white hair. Further down his stomach as a groomed line of dark hair that disappeared under his waistband. 

“What’s the matter, little girl? Not so brave now?” He smirked, closing the distance between you to hold your chin roughly between his finger and thumb. 

He ducked his head down and kissed you roughly; it was an unceremonious clash of tongues as you kissed him back with intense fervour. 

“That’s what I thought.” He whispered against your lips and let go of your face. “Take off your clothes. Leave on your underwear, I wanna be the one to remove that from you.” He commanded, kicking off his own jeans and sitting on the edge of his bed. 

You suddenly felt self conscious, you could feel the burn of his gaze as you stood in front of him. You turned your back to him as you slowly undid the zip on your skirt and bent down to remove it. 

Behind you, Joel had pulled his cock from his boxers and was stroking himself as you removed your clothes. Once your shirt was removed, you span back round to face the male and gently crossed your legs as you watched him. 

“Fucking look at you.” He groaned, as his cock gently fucked into his fist. “Thought about your body so many times, knew I shouldn’t. Knew it was wrong but look at you, c’mhere.” He mumbled.

You felt your cheeks burn in embarrassment at his confession; it soothed your nerves as you realised the attraction was mutual between you both. Joel sat back a little and tapped his lap; you got the idea quickly and straddled him. 

You cock feel his swollen cock rub against your clothes heat and you whined weakly at the contact. 

“Please don’t tease me.” You whispered, looping your arms around his neck as Joel’s hands settled onto your soft hips. 

“‘M not gonna tease you…” he smirked, his eyes lit with mischievous intent. “But I bet you could cum just from rubbing yourself on my cock. Since you seemed to want it so bad at the bar, trying to get my attention. Well guess what, little girl, you got it. Now keep it.” He hummed. 

“Joel —“ you protested, to which he raised a brow at you in question. 

You pushed your hips forward so the tip of Joel’s cock nudged your damp panties, it nudged your clit and you gasp as you began to rut your hips back and forth. 

“Such a needy little girl, aren’t you? So needy for your daddy’s best friend that you’ll rub against his cock like a good little bitch.” He cooed, holding your cheek tenderly as his condescending words fuelled your hips to move faster. 

“Not enough.” You whimpered, your hands scratching at Joel’s back for more leverage. “Need you in me, please. I need to feel your fingers inside of me.”

Joel smirked and pressed two digits into your mouth without warning; you quickly sucked them in, your tongue swirled around them until they were coated with your saliva. 

“Is that what you mean, princess? My fingers are inside of you.”

You shook your head no as your hips moved desperately, the hot pink fabric of your lace thong was ruined; it was dark in colour as your arousal soaked the fabric. 

“Then what is it you mean? Tell me what you want.” Joel said quietly, removing his fingers from your mouth. A long ling of spittle keeping you connected to the older male. 

“Need your fingers in my pussy; need to feel them inside of me as I cum. P-please.” You whined, your voice sounded wrecked already as your hips stuttered against Joel’s cock. 

Joel dipped his fingers into the front of your lace panties, they were slick from your spit and they glided through your wetness with ease. 

He let out a moan as he felt your wetness soak his fingers further; his fingers circled around your clit with skill and your mouth fell agape with intense pleasure. 

You screwed your eyes shut as his fingers sped up to rub over your clit. 

“Oh that’s it, good girl. So wet for me, aren’t you? This all for me?” He hummed. 

You nodded, as your back arched away from the man so he could gain better access to your front. Joel continued to speed his fingers up; he watched your every movement; every heave of your chest, every gasp or twitch of your arm and he knew you were getting close. 

“Tell me when you’re going to cum.” Joel whispered, dropping his head down to kiss at your bra-clad chest. 

“I’m close, Joel. So fucking close.” You whimpered, you were barely making a noise. 

“That’s it, atta a girl.” Joel praised. 

“I — I’m gonna, I’m gonna, fuck!” You screeched, the raw noise ripping from your throat as Joel removed his fingers from your panties at precisely the wrong moment. 

He smirked at you, his mannerism teasing and cruel. 

“What the fuck?” You squeaked, your eyes wide and your chest still heaving. 

“Well I didn’t say you were going to cum, did I?” Joel stated. 

“Please.” You pleaded, your eyes searching for mercy in him. 

“Lay down on the bed for me.” Joel whispered, tapping your ass gently. 

You felt dumb, your body was tingling all over from the overstimulation and lack of orgasm and you moved without knowing how you were doing it. You laid down onto Joel’s bed, your back resting up against his pillows. 

It took everything in you to not turn your head into the soft pillows, breathe in his scent and fuck yourself right there. You felt like a horny teenager who couldn’t ever satisfy themself. 

Joel fully kicked off his boxers and knelt beside you, he motioned his finger in an upwards movement and you sat up for him. Quickly, he removed your bra and your chest gently fell from the hot pink fabric. He gently pushed you back onto the bed and then worked to remove your panties, they too were discarded with the rest of your clothes on the floor. 

“Now, where were we?” Joel smirked before he trailed his fingers back between your legs. 

Instinctively, you spread them for him as he worked over your clit again; within seconds, the pressure was there once again and you tightly gripped at the sheets below you. 

“Joel —“ you whined. “Please. Please, I am begging you, please let me cum.”

“Now where’s the fun in that, little girl?” He murmured menacingly. 

You closed your eyes and willed yourself to not burst into tears there and then; the pleasure you were feeling was intense, Joel’s fingers moved expertly to bring you close to your orgasm and then there was the humiliation of him denying you the thing you wanted most. 

Joel was watching you intensely, he was picking up on every little micro movement your body made or didn’t make, he was calculating when to stop his movements or when to speed them up. Bringing you right up to the edge, almost letting you peer over it but then pulling you right back again; never quite letting you topple into ecstasy. 

He had done this three or four times now and the noises that left your body no longer sounded like your own; they were wrecked sobs of desperation as your arousal coated your thighs and left a wet spot behind in your wake. You could barely remember your own name or where you were anymore; Joel had messed with your mind.

“Please.” You pleaded to Joel, looking up at him with wide eyes. “Please let me cum, I can’t — I can’t take anymore.” Your eyes were glassy with tears at the intensity of Joel’s actions and your own frustration as you experienced another ruined orgasm.

You knew if you really wanted this to stop, you could stand up, get dressed and walk away but you didn’t want that. Joel Miller had rotted your brain and you were fixated under him, completely at his will. 

Joel smirked at you again, that same look he kept giving you; it was smug, it was infuriating and it turned you on even more. 

“Look at you, princess. You’re a mess.” He whispered, his spare hand brushing a strand of hair away from your features. “So wet and messy for me, hm? Are you sure you can even cum now? Do you know what to do?”

You nodded eagerly at the older male, your eyes pleading silently as your mouth was hung open in constant pleasure. 

Joel didn’t say a word, instead he sunk two fingers into your hole without warning; his thumb circled your clit with intense pressure. It was like a million sparks erupted throughout your body; your back arched off the bed, your thighs fell open even further and your walls clenched around Joel tightly. 

You could feel yourself flutter and pulsate around the man’s digits as you came. Your eyes were screwed shut and your mouth was open, not a single sound fell from your parted lips apart from the start of a strangled moan. The pleasure, the pure ecstasy, was too intense for you to make a single sound. 

Joel pumped his fingers quickly, watching as you came on them. 

“That’s it, fuck. So good. Give me another one.” He growled, his arm shaking as he pumped his fingers even faster inside of you; his thumb pass over your clit with each thrust of his digits. 

You honestly didn’t know if you could give him another; your body was shaking as you laid there and took what Joel was giving to you. It was intense and never before had you had such a strong orgasm; there were still white flecks dancing around in your vision as your body built up to another orgasm. 

Your fingers were clawing at Joel’s arm and you were sure that you had broken his skin as you came on his fingers; there was no telling what would happen when he ripped another orgasm from you. 

“Be a good girl and then I’ll give you my cock, come on, princess. I know you can give me another one. I know you’re good enough for that.” He whispered. “Look at what you’re doing to me, baby girl. Look at my cock, it’s leaking for you. So good.”

You peered between your bodies and saw the head of Joel’s cock, it was flushed and there was a dribble of precum falling from the tip and collecting onto the sheets below. 

“Ki-kiss me.” You managed to squeak out, your voice shaking as you looked at the older male. 

He smiled and happily obliged, your lips met in a sloppy kiss as you felt your body shake more intensely. The tight coil in the pit of your stomach snapped once more and another intense orgasm rippled through you like a shockwave.

“Good. Good girl.” Joel praised against your lips as he worked you through your orgasm. 

He pulled his fingers from your hole and rubbed them speedily across your clit, you let out a yelp at the overstimulation and gripped Joel’s arm tightly for leverage. 

“I’m gonna —“ you managed to call out before he felt yourself gush onto the sheets below you. 

“Oh fuck.” Joel moaned, his cock jumping with arousal as you squirted onto his hand. 

“I’m so, fuck —“ you breathed shakily and held yourself up onto your elbows, tears staining your cheeks from the intense pleasure. “Joel, I’m so sorry. Fuck, let me clean up. Fuck.” You cursed, your body shaking as you went to sit up. 

Joel chuckled and gently pushed your shoulder back onto the bed with a shake of his head. 

“So sexy. Have you ever squirted before?” He asked, finally removing his hand from your throbbing pussy. 

You shook your head and he just grinned at you boyishly. 

“That’s even hotter, how did it feel, princess? Did you like it?” He asked softly, his fingers tracing soft patterns across your tummy. 

You blushed at his words and gently cleared your throat. “I did like it, I didn’t… well I didn’t know I could actually cum that hard. It was intense but amazing.” You said softly, looking up at Joel through your lashes. 

“I’m glad.” He smiled. “Look, we don’t have to — well, y’know, we don’t have to have sex. If you’re too stimulated or whatever. I can sort myself out.”

You quickly shook your head and pulled him closer to your naked body. 

“No!” You said quickly. “I mean, I am a little over stimulated right now but please, I need to feel your cock in me.”

Joel didn’t need to be told twice and he roughly flipped your body over so your face was against the bed. You gasped under the male, surprised by his strength. Behind yourself, you could feel Joel moving, positioning himself so his cock was nudging against your entrance. 

He thrust forward, filling you once again; you were all-consumed with just Joel. The heady scent of him lingered on the bellows below your face, you cunt ached with lingering pleasure of your orgasms and now, you could feel his large hands gripping your hips tightly as he fucked into you with fervour. 

“That’s it, sweet girl, taking me so well. So good.” Joel mewled, the praise sending heat through your body once more. 

Your fingers clung to the soft fabric of the sheets below you, and you couldn’t help the soft moans that escaped your lips as Joel fucked you. 

“So good. F-faster.” You whimpered. 

Joel obliged, he sped his hips up and dug his fingers into your hips so hard you felt as if you were going to have bruises there for days. 

Joel’s hips began to stutter, his groans grew deeper and you clenched around him, trying to bring him closer to filling you. 

“Such. A. Good. Little. Girl.” Joel groaned, each word accentuated by a deep thrust. “This is my cunt now, got it? Hm. All mine. Fuck, you’re so good for me.”

You nodded under him with a soft moan as he bottomed himself out in you, his cock impossibly deep as you felt it twitch before he coated your insides with his hot cum. You whined at the sensation and felt yourself flutter around his pulsing cock instinctively. 

“Shit.” He groaned, giving one final sloppy thrust before we collapsed down onto the bed beside you with his chest heaving deeply. 

You followed suit, your body finally giving out from under yourself; you grimaced as your body touched the soaked patch on the bed and you began to feel Joel leak from inside of you. 

“‘M a mess but so tired.” You yawned, scrunching your face in disgust. 

“Let me clean you up.” Joel whispered, stroking your cheek. 

He let out a grunt as he climbed off the bed, his limbs aching from the effort. He scooped your body from the mattress and carried you to the bathroom where he sat you in the bath. He turned the shower on and you hummed as the warm water hit your body, not caring your hair and makeup would be a mess. 

Joel climbed behind you and gently rubbed your shoulders as the warm water washed away the messes you both made. 

-

-

A/N: my requests are open again, I can’t promise I’ll always write them really quickly but please send me any ideas of stuff u wanna read <3 love u all <3

#dbf!joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #dbf!joel #joel x reader #joel miller

[povlnfour]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ SECRET LOVE SONG (CL16)

pairing: charles leclerc x girlfriend!reader

summary: an anonymous account starts posting photos found on a private account supposedly belonging to f1 superstar charles leclerc. as the photos start circulating, an unknown face joins the picture that leads to speculation charles has a girlfriend he’s been hiding.

*faceclaim: seo soojin, but please imagine her as you see fit

anonymousf1 just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by 9,016 people

anonymousf1 post dated 23.06.22, captioned ‘shirtless season in full swing’

view all comments

user UM. IS THAT CHARLES???

user wait we’ve never seen these photos before right?

user @/user nope don’t recognise them? could be wrong but

user check the bio on the account they’ve all come from an account called see.el.sixteen ? CL16??

user whilst i don’t support leaking people’s private accounts… thank u for these beautiful photos

user @/user i just want to know who took them

anonymousf1 just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by 10,713 people

anonymousf1 post dated 28.12.22, captioned ‘day 1 - day 2 - day 3’

view all comments

user i know these are being leaked but i’m giggling over how simple his caption is

user HES SO BOYF CODED HOW IS THIS MAN NOT TAKEN

user hating the method loving that we’re actually getting charles content

user @/user IKR PHOTOS FREE FROM THAT FILTER

user gonna be that person and say i’m eating this content up

anonymousf1 just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by 15,481 people

anonymousf1 post dated 04.08.23, captioned ‘caught’

view all comments

user who is he looking at with so much love

user i need to know who took these bc the way he’s looking at them…

user all this boyfriend content,,, not so sure this man is single anymore

user WHO WHAT WHEN WHERE WHY

anonymousf1 just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by 23,107 people

anonymousf1 post dated 03.02.23, captioned ‘in between study sessions’

view all comments

user WHO IS THAT

user UM

user THE MESSAGE ON THE HAND??? DID SHE DRAW THAT??? IS HE TAKEN??? IM SO LOST

user first photo and how pretty he looks distracting me from the fact he poSTED A GIRL?

user heyyy admin post a clearer one so i can see her

user @/user literally i wanna see how cute she is

anonymousf1 just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by 28,100 people

anonymousf1 post dated 12.05.23, captioned ‘❤️’

view all comments

user IS THAT HER?

user oh my god she’s HOT

user THE SINGLE RED HEART. IM READING INTO IT.

user wait she’s so pretty

user THE POLAROIDS WITH THE DRAWINGS ON THEM☹️☹️☹️

user so this is charles’ girlfriend?

anonymousf1 just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by 34,512 people

anonymousf1 post dated 06.06.22, no caption

view all comments

user oh so it’s been going on for a YEAR???

user trying to pretend i’m not reading into them laying that close in swimwear

user oh so this is definitely his girlfriend huh

user heartbroken bc he’s off the market, ecstatic bc he’s happy

user @/user until he learns his entire private account is now on the internet

anonymousf1 just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by 35,407 people

anonymousf1 post dated 19.09.23, captioned ‘singapore your sights are perfect’

view all comments

user THE CAPTION — HE MEANS HER☹️

user i love watching the likes go up with every post

user THATS DEFINITELY HIS SHIRT TOO

user we don’t have confirmation they’re dating but i’m taking This as confirmation that they’re dating

anonymousf1 just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by 38,990 people

anonymousf1 captioned ‘happy birthday sweet girl’

view all comments

user oh. Oh.

user SWEET GIRL☹️☹️☹️☹️

user i know i’m here for charles… but i’m absolutely obsessed with her

user DOES ANYONE KNOW HER INSTAGRAM

user @/user I THINK THIS IS HER ??? @/yourusername

user @/user DAMN SHES PRIVATE BUT THE ICON IS DEFINITELY HER

user @/user at least we know her name is y/n

anonymousf1 just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by 47,501 people

anonymousf1 post dated 19.10.23, captioned ‘3 years with you. hoping for 30. and more if you’ll let me’

view all comments

user THREE WHOLE YEARS??? HES HIDDEN HER FROM US FOR T H R E E YEARS?!?!?

user oh my god it’s official. they’re actually together

user THE SECOND PHOTO THEY ARE SO CUTE HELLO

user y/n is mother already

user i want to pinch her cheeks but also slam my head on a table

charles_leclerc just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by yourusername and 1,127,805 others

charles_leclerc secrets out i guess. not the way i wanted it to happen but glad i can finally show you off. mine forever❤️

view all comments

user HE MADE IT OFFICIAL OHHHH HE LOVES HER

user sorry your privacy was invaded king but thanks for giving me a new woman to obsess over

landonorris finally i can stop editing y/n out of the photos i take

user MY FAVOURITE COUPLE ALREADY

user @/yourusername go public so i can cry over how pretty you are pls

yourusername @/user 🤭 bet

yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by charles_leclerc and 204,561 others

yourusername privacy is sexy but so are you

view all comments

user MOTHER.

user THANK YOU FOR ALL THE CHARLES CONTENT

user 10/10 recommend stalking her account guys she posts the best charles pictures

user MA’AM THANK YOU FOR LETTING US IN IVE WANTED TO SCREAM ABOUT HOW HOT YOU ARE FOR FOREVER

charles_leclerc always been a woman of few words. love you baby❤️

yourusername @/charles_leclerc i love you more

charles_leclerc @/yourusername you’ll have to fight me on it

——

a/n:

first quick charles post bc this idea came to me last night and i wanted to make it happen <<33 there will be a proper au for him later in the week (just need to edit all 5k+ words) but for now ta da

as always, let me know your thoughts!!! and it goes without saying,,, privacy IS sexy, don’t leak people’s photos unless it’s in social media au form <<33

- giselle xx

taglist (found here): @sunflower-golden-vol6 @six-call @skatingiswalkingincursive @peqch-pie @m0cha-bunny @ironmaiden1313 @champagnelovers101 @alessioayla @hobiismyhopeu @mingkyungseokie

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc smau #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc scenario #f1 imagine #f1 #f1 x reader

[nereidprinc3ss]

do you believe me now? | 5

in which spencer reid and fem!reader are reunited, but the worst kind of sparks are flying. you meet a man named randall. derek morgan buys you a drink (sort of). it seems that some things can't be unsaid.

part one | two | three | bonus chapter | four

this series is 18+ warnings/tags: r goes to a bar but doesn't drink alcohol, gets hit on by weird men, dramatic, angst, sorry in advance a/n: surprise! i'll see myself out. love you! lmk your thoughts on this bad boy! i KNOW you'll have some! i'm locking all my doors and the cops are on speed dial after posting this. stay tuned for part six tho

You don’t call Spencer for four days. 

Spencer doesn’t call you for four days. 

It’s scary. 

There’s some texting—mostly him giving you updates on how things are going and when he expects to be back. Mostly you giving the messages a thumbs up and saying nothing else. 

Finally, on Thursday afternoon, his ringtone (the Bill Nye theme) makes you jump as you’re sitting on your bed staring into space. 

His caller ID photo—which is simply his passport photo, because you’d thought it was adorable—stares at you. You stare back. Contemplate not picking up. 

But you’re not quite there yet. 

And you cannot keep listening to Bill Nye the Science Guy. 

The answer button is cold under your thumb, but not as cold as your greeting. 

“Hi.”

You barely recognize your own voice. 

It seems to send Spencer for a loop as well, because his reply is halting. 

“Hey! Hi, um—how are you? I feel like we’ve barely talked this week.”

That would be because you told me my feelings for you are stronger than your feelings for me and I don’t know how to stop making every single word I say secretly mean I love you. We can’t have a conversation without me loving you. It will always be in the room or on the phone with us. To ignore the presence of it is impossible, and I don’t know if I can ignore the absence of yours, either. 

“Uh… yeah. I’m fine. What’s up?”

There’s a pause. 

“We wrapped up this morning. We’re getting on the jet here in a few minutes, and, um—I know it’s not ideal, but we missed Derek’s birthday and Penelope is insisting we all go to his favorite bar tonight. And he told me that for his birthday he wants to meet you. So… would you be up for that?”

“You want… to take me to a bar?”

“No. I mean—I know it’s not really your thing, but we missed Derek’s birthday three years in a row, and—and I understand if you don’t want to meet him tonight, but we wouldn’t have to stay very long and I really, really shouldn’t skip it. Derek has saved my life on more than one occasion.”

“You could go without me.”

More silence. Every second hurts, but you don’t understand why he wants you to come meet his best friend if he thinks the two of you are in different places emotionally. 

But maybe he’s not going to break up with you just yet. Maybe he’s going to keep inviting you to bars and foreign film festivals and bookshops. Maybe he’s going to treat you exactly the same as he always has but with this new added layer of knowledge that the way he treats you isn’t actually love, and it never was, and you’re not sure if it has the potential to ever become love. Because if it did—wouldn’t it have already? What more do you have to offer than what you’ve already given him?

Breakup or no breakup, you feel sick. 

When he speaks his tone is similarly chilly. It’s welcome. You want him mad. If he can’t reciprocate your adoration, then the very least he can do is have the decency to reciprocate your reproach. 

“I could. Is that what you want?”

No. I don’t want any of this. I need you to know me well enough to know that. And if you can’t love me then at least get angry. At least show me you feel something other than passive contentment. 

“Yeah. Sure. I don’t know.”

A pause stretches so long your heart pounds. You watch the elapsed time of the call tick by, second by second, and you wait for the anticipation to crack under the weight of silence, to give way to some terrible jump scare or to give way at all. 

But the words that end the conversation (if you can even call it that) aren’t any great relief. They’re just sad, and chalk full of defeat. 

“Alright. I’ll… I’ll call you later.”

You feel like you’ve swallowed an ice cube. All the words you’d like to say are frozen in your stinging throat. 

“Okay. Um… I’ll let you board now.”

“The jet’s not…” but he trails off. When he speaks again he sounds just as hurt as you’d wanted—and it doesn’t make you feel better at all. “Okay. Bye.”

“Bye.”

The line goes dead, and your face is burning as tears fill your eyes for the hundredth time this week. That call was terrible and poisonous and you don’t feel like yourself. 

Things have gone so wrong so quickly, and all you know how to do is ice him out so he can’t do it to you first. But it’s not going to make this better. No matter how mean you are to him, at the root of it all you feel unloved and scared and alone and Spencer knows things about love and relationships that you don’t. He’s confusing you with all this talk of feeling differently about each other and I’ll be home tomorrow I miss you and things get complicated when one person likes the other more and let’s talk in person and will you come meet my best friend tonight. All of it leaves you motion sick and ugly crying in the fetal position. 

All you have to get through this is who you’ve always been, a little of the person you’ve become, and the love you harbor for Spencer which rattles around in your chest like a nail in an empty toolbox. At the moment it hardly seems helpful. It mocks you, pointing out the pathetic hilarity of your paradox. The only person who can comfort you, the person you want more than anything, is the reason you’re so upset in the first place. But you can’t help being drawn to him. 

Maybe the love you have for Spencer is more like a magnet in a compass. 

Even if he doesn’t feel it for you, you do love Spencer. And that goes beyond just loving the parts of him that like you. To hide from that love would be a gross disservice to yourself and all the work you’ve done to get here. It’s not as if you suddenly know exactly what the answer is—but you’re sure that hiding is the most childish, cowardly thing you could do and the furthest you could get from a resolution. Even if you can’t make him love you back, you refuse to allow yourself to fizzle quietly out of his life. This relationship deserves something more than that. 

So maybe you don’t have a plan when you wipe your eyes and pick up your phone. Maybe there’s no strategy behind your actions as you text Garcia for the bar location. But if you keep running from everything you’ll never get anywhere. All you can do is show up. It seems like the next best step. 

------

The pub isn’t too crowded—but for a Thursday night, you suppose it’s a bit busy. 

Boot heels hooked onto the metal foot-beam of the stool you’re sitting on, elbows resting on the polished mahogany surface of the bar, you’re staring into an untouched mixed drink. Then you glance down the bar to your right, at the man who’d bought it for you. 

Maybe your ensemble gave him the wrong idea. 

Coming to this gathering had required bravery, and you came armored. Your ensemble projects significantly more confidence than you’re currently feeling. It was intentional, a form of self-protection—but now you’re wondering if it’s projecting a little too much confidence. 

All done up, clearly still a little rough around the edges, and sitting alone at a bar was bound to draw the wrong pairs of eyes. 

“Hey, darlin’,” the gruff man says, approaching when you inadvertently catch his gaze. “Are you gonna drink that, or should I? Otherwise I’m lookin’ at eleven dollars right down the drain.”

You avert your eyes, scanning the groups dotted here and there. 

“I’m waiting for friends.”

“Does that make a free drink less appealing?”

He takes the stool next to you, off-gassing the scent of cigarettes and leather. 

“I’m not drinking.”

“Really? I’ve never seen a girl who looks as sad as you do come sit at the bar to stay sober.”

You frown, looking back up at the man next to you. He seems like the Hell’s Angels type—tattooed knuckles, leather jacket, grey beard, and a weathered face that’s clearly spent decades with the sun. Fifties, maybe younger and just looks more rugged. What does it say about how I look tonight that this is the kind of man I’m attracting, you wonder. Maybe you look desperate and just as lonely as you feel. As he claims you do. 

“I’m not sad.”

“Alright. I’ll take your word for it. But a happier girl wouldn’t be all alone.”

“I’m waiting for friends,” you repeat, letting the words drip like venom from your tongue. 

“I’m Randall. See? Now we're friends.”

“I don’t need more friends. I like the ones I have.”

Something catches Randall’s attention long enough to catch yours. He raises his bottle vaguely, gesturing beyond your shoulder. 

“Are those angry lookin’ guys in the suits marching right over here the friends you’re talking about?”

You turn your head, brows furrowed, and immediately see the gentlemen to whom your new pal is pointing out. 

Spencer is storming across the bar looking close to furious (which for him, means an expression so placid it gives you chills) followed by Derek Morgan—a man who you’ve only seen pictures of and is even more impressive in person. 

You hate how your breath catches, how your heart is already beating a little faster than usual at the sight of him even though you’re not exactly pleased with each other right now. 

Suddenly the bubbles in your cocktail are once again fascinating.

“Those are the ones.”

“And why are they dressed for church?”

Church?

“They’re FBI.”

“Ah. My lucky fuckin’ day.”

You almost snort. 

“Hey,” Spencer says sternly, hand settling on your back as he partially fills the small space between you and the strange man. “Who’s this?”

You shrug, sit up a little straighter, and take a shallow breath—not because you’re scared of this man but because Spencer is suddenly so close to you and you can feel his warmth and the air bending around him and the scent of him is genuinely dizzying to you. 

“Randall,” you exhale unenthusiastically. But the odd thing is that you’re rather grateful for Randall’s presence. Because now Spencer is here and you have no idea what you’re going to say to him. 

“Oh,” Randall says, sipping his beer unhurriedly before using it to gesture to Spencer. “You’re the boyfriend. You know, that’s funny, because she didn’t mention a boyfriend.”

“I didn’t mention anything. We weren’t having a real conversation.”

Randy holds his hands up defensively, fingers still wrapped around the neck of a sweating bottle. 

“I’m just saying it’s in-ter-esting. Not trying to start anything.” He stands, pauses for another sip—Spencer obviously isn’t sure what to make of this man because he says nothing. “But listen, man to man—you better buy her some flowers or a real pretty fuckin’ necklace or somethin’ because a happy girl in a happy relationship does not come pout at the bar all by herself.”

“Get out of here, man,” Derek finally speaks up. 

“Yeah, yeah.” He sets his empty bottle down and fishes in his pocket for a cigarette, sticking it between his lips. “But—just for the record—I have a wife. I wasn’t gonna do anything weird. Sometimes when you’re my age you just gotta live a little. Buy a pretty girl a drink. Piss off some Mormons, or whatever the fuck you are.”

This guy sounds like a bad Bruce Springsteen song. But part of you would almost rather hang out with Randall than be forced into a conversation you’re not prepared for with Spencer. 

And whose fault is that, you remind yourself. You decided to come be mature. Suck it up. 

“Goodnight,” Derek emphasizes. 

Spencer doesn’t say a word. You can feel his eyes boring smoking holes into the side of your face, and you look anywhere else.  

“I’ll be here next week after physical therapy like clockwork,” the stranger waves as he ambles away—but not before pointing at you. “You enjoy that drink, friend. And don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

What a weird man. 

There’s silence for a moment—in which Spencer refuses to stop watching you and you refuse to acknowledge that. 

“And here I was thinking Spencer made you up.” Derek has a beautiful smile and a warm, charming cadence as he holds out his hand for you to shake. “I’m Derek.”

You take the proffered hand and shake, offering him a shy smile and introducing yourself in kind. 

“Happy birthday, by the way. Sorry for crashing your party.”

Really, he’s stunning. 

“Thank you, sweetheart. And you’re not crashing anything. I told pretty boy here I wanted to meet you the second he started talking about a friend. But nah, he just wanted to talk and talk and talk about you—” 

“Alright,” Spencer mumbles, blushing, eyes finally torn from your profile. You smile slightly, brows knitting as Derek magically melts some of the terrible tension.

“Pretty boy?”

Before either of them can explain, someone shrieks in your general direction. You startle backward in your seat, and Spencer steps closer, hand sliding up your back as Penelope, JJ, and Emily join your little huddle. For only a second you allow yourself to shrink into him—before you’re straightening your posture like your spine is a metal rod and his touch burns. It’s a knee-jerk defensive reaction for which you have no explanation. You can’t see him, but you don’t feel his hand on you again. 

“Oh my god! Look at this beautiful person who I love!” Penelope exclaims, pushing past Derek to grab your face and kiss both of your cheeks. “Oh my god,” she says again, wiping sticky lipgloss away with her thumbs, “I totally meant to ask before I did that. But your face is just so kissable. I’m so glad you decided to come!”

“Hi, Penelope,” you smile half-heartedly, incapable of reciprocating her cheery mood. Fortunately, she’s cheery enough for a standard commercial flight’s worth of people, and probably thinks of Derek’s birthday as a national holiday—so she doesn’t pick up on this. 

Emily and JJ offer you tamer although perfectly kind greetings. 

“Ooh, what are you drinking?” Emily asks, leaning closer to examine the forgotten beverage in front of you. 

“Not that,” Spencer mutters, grabbing the glass and sliding it away from you. You give him an affronted look—and immediately wish you hadn’t, since you’re meeting his eyes for the first time since he left. His words stall for just a moment as his eyes dart between yours before he’s saying, “you shouldn’t accept a drink if you didn’t watch someone make it.”

The audacity of him to be acting protective makes you scoff. 

“That guy didn’t spike my drink. He was harmless.”

“People thought Ted Bundy was harmless, too.”

It’s such a ridiculous thing to say that you don’t even have a response—your eyes simply narrow and you shake your head. A claustrophobic silence falls over the small group. 

“Okay…” JJ murmurs. “Um, do you guys want to go check out the jukebox with me? We have to play all of the birthday boy’s favorites.”

Several enthusiastic yeses go around, but you’re too busy having a stand off with your boyfriend to take much notice. 

Soon, it’s just the two of you. 

“Controlling isn’t a good look for you,” you finally say, spinning to rest your elbows on the bar once more and studying the bottles of liquor on the shelves beyond. 

“Evasive and avoidant isn’t particularly flattering, either. I was under the impression that you had no intention of coming after that phone call earlier.” 

You scoff again as your blood heats. Already the conversation is going worse than you’d expected—and your expectations were not high. 

“Do you think the cab driver was a serial killer, too? Or maybe the bartender?”

He’s still behind you and slightly to the side—but he leans down, resting his own fists on the bar right next to you and speaking lowly, directly over your shoulder. 

“Why don’t you try speaking to me like we’re adults instead of starting meaningless arguments in order to get under my skin?”

From him, that hurts. 

It’s a branch on the tree of your greatest insecurity—the fear that you’re too inexperienced with relationships and that makes you too immature and he’s been lying every time he says it’s not an issue. Because of course it’s an issue. It’s why you fell in love with him, it’s why you don’t know how to fix it, and it’s why you’re incapable of actually expressing any of your feelings to him.

“Why do you think I’m here right now?” you whisper—as sharp and stinging as a poison dart. “I’m trying to be a fucking adult. I don’t want to be here.”

Silence. 

“Then why did you come?”

His voice is so calm it burns like dry ice. 

“Because!��Because you asked me to, because—”

You can’t bring yourself to say it aloud. 

Because I’m obviously still in love with you and I can’t just turn that off. I tried to do the right thing. 

Instead you bury your face in your hands and let it hang in the air, unspoken. You know he knows. You just don’t know why he’s acting like you’re so unreasonable for being upset. 

“Let me make this very clear to you,” Spencer murmurs, brushing your hair away from your ear so tenderly, speaking so softly you could convince yourself that he’ll say something kind. It’s the closest he’s been in days and now that he’s here you feel how much you missed him in your bones. And even though you sense a trap, you can’t help but sit up straighter. You’ll be complicit in your own undoing if it means you can have him close. His breath shakes slightly as he inhales and you brace as best you can. “Nobody is forcing you to be here. You told me you weren’t coming and then you decided to show up. I was ready to give you the space that you were too scared to ask me for. But I can only take responsibility for so much of what is ultimately your bad behavior and your adolescent volatility. You can only blame so much of your bad behavior on inexperience before I run out of patience because I don’t find thoughtlessness and emotional immaturity compelling. I told you that if there is a disparity in the way we feel for each other, that was fine, and I meant it. But if you can’t cope with how I feel about you then don’t let me hold you back. I am not holding you hostage. You can leave whenever you want. So don’t waste your time punishing me because you don’t want to be here. And if you do want to be here, good. I want that too. But act like an adult and make a decision. My leniency has limits, even for you. I am asking that you do not push it any further than you already have.”

You don’t know how long it’s been since your last breath by the time he finishes his address.

Long enough that you’re dizzy when you push away from the bar and shoulder through the throng of patrons as quickly as you reasonably can without outright running. 

Long enough that when you burst out the door into the biting-cold night air, and finally take a deep, gasping breath, it burns and stings and aches and so does your head and your eyes as they well with hot, furious, heartbroken tears. 

You speed-walk to the end of the block, hand clamped over your mouth to muffle your cries and all the curse words you’d love to scream. 

Part of you knows you walked away from the bar in case he decided to try and follow you—but when you look over your shoulder the sidewalk is empty. You should’ve known better than to think he’d follow you after that. But at least it means you can have your breakdown by the relative safety of the bar, leaning your back against the dirty brick facade next to the entrance alcove and sliding down until your butt hits the cold concrete and you don’t even care. 

Who the fuck was that man in the bar who looked like Spencer and sounded like Spencer but spoke to you like this is all your fault, like it’s your fault you love him and he doesn’t love you back, like it’s ridiculous that you’d be upset, like you’re cruel and petty for having feelings about it, about him—for having any fucking feelings at all? And to think that was the man who you let know you more intimately than anyone ever has. Every insecurity you’d ever admitted to him was hurled back in your face like it was nothing. Hell—he even handed you the ones you’d never mentioned. He proved every terrible thought you’ve been having about yourself right. 

How could he be so unabashedly mean to you?

Spencer doesn’t have to love you. It seems clearer now than ever that he doesn’t. But part of you wonders if he suffered some sort of traumatic brain injury because that’s the only explanation for why he could go from treating you how he did before to treating you like he doesn’t even like you. 

You feel like you might throw up. 

“Called it,” a rasping, grumbling voice says from a few feet away. 

You look up, and spot fucking Randall standing under a street light ten feet away, still smoking. 

You go back to studying the tar spots on the sidewalk through bleary eyes. Pebbles sting as they press into your palms. Another one of the universe’s terrible jokes, you suppose. Just earlier you’d thought that you’d rather talk to Randall than Spencer and now here you are and here he is. 

“That kid as much of a dipshit punk as I thought he was?”

Hearing Spencer described as a kid and a dipshit punk is so jarring you almost stop crying. 

“He’s not a dipshit,” you sniff, voice thick with tears as you find yourself explaining Spencer Reid to this stranger for no reason at all. “He has an IQ of 187. He’s a genius.”

“Ah,” he scoffs dismissively, flicking ash from his cigarette. “Dipshit-ism don’t discriminate. Anyone can be one. Even your genius punk boyfriend. As a recovering dipshit myself I know what the work of a fellow dipshit looks like. And this has dipshit written all over it.”

You sob harder. 

Randall speaks calmly around his cigarette. 

“You know, I’m sorry for whatever you got goin’ on. But I’ve never not been the asshole when I got a hysterical woman in front of me. It’s nice that I can confidently say this time it is not my fault.”

The bar door opens, letting a warm burst of jovial music and chatter into the otherwise still night. Steps that are too heavy to be Spencer’s hit the concrete next to you—you look to your left and see Derek Morgan before he looks down and sees you. 

“Hey—you okay out here?”

“Why don’t you go ask your Jehovah’s Witness buddy? He did this.”

Derek makes a face, locating the source of this interjection. 

“Sir, I asked you to leave her alone once and I don’t appreciate being made to repeat myself. Are we clear?”

“Yeah, whatever. Fuck me for making friendly conversation, I guess. Gonna have to call my wife and tell her to pick me up down the street. I don’t want her on the damn phone while she’s driving.”

Randall wanders away again, still muttering to himself and smoking. Derek watches him go, staring daggers into his back until he turns his gaze to you. 

Goodbye, Randall, you think. Great. Now I have neither of them. 

“Hey,” he softens, crouching down to your level. “You okay?”

You sniff, wiping your cheeks and attempting not to smudge your makeup. It’s impossible not to feel awkward—you just met this guy and now he’s here trying to do emotional labor for you on his birthday. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. This is embarrassing.”

“You don’t look fine. Can I do anything for you? Do you want some food? A drink?”

“You really don’t have to—”

“I know, I know. But look—Reid is always talking about you. You’re important to him, and he’s important to me. I’ve never seen him this happy and I’ve known that kid a long time. It is in my best interest that someone maintain you, and if it’s not him, it’ll be me. Call it a favor to him, if that makes you feel better.” Derek is sporting a slightly more modest Cheshire grin again by the end of his sentence. Listening to him speak that way about Spencer speaking about you, it’s impossible not to feel a teeny bit lighter. Even if you’re not entirely sure where you stand on all things Spencer related at the moment. “So I’ll ask you again. Is there anything I can do for you?”

You sniff again. 

“Sure. A ginger ale or something might be good.”

“Got it. I’ll be back. And come inside if Randall tries to run up on you again, okay?”

Despite yourself you manage a laugh at the way he says the name. His warm smile flickers warmer at this.  

“Will do.”

When Derek returns a few minutes later, the plastic cup he’s holding looks decidedly not like ginger ale. 

“Penelope insisted that this is what you would want. I don’t even know.”

You smile slightly as you take the cup, full to the brim with bubbles and thick red syrup. A cherry bobs underneath the layer of cubed ice. 

“Shirley temple,” you chuckle. “I’ll take it. Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome,” he says, flashing that brilliant smile again, and you look into your cup as you drink. Maybe your face warms just a bit. You’re still shy around men, you realize. Especially attractive ones. And Derek Morgan definitely qualifies as attractive. 

“So,” he begins, and to your surprise, crouches down in front of you. “I have to be honest—I came out here in the first place because Reid sent me to check on you. But now I’m wondering what the hell he did.”

Spencer sent him. A considerate action that would theoretically signal his care for your feelings. You take another sip, staring into space and trying to digest this information, but it only jumbles with the rest to confuse you more. 

Of course, you don’t know how to convey this to Derek in a way that’s not overly-familiar for just having met the man, so you go with an old standby. 

“I’m probably just overreacting.”

“Uh-huh. I have sisters. I know what an overreaction looks like and if you were overreacting you wouldn’t be out here hiding. What’d he do?”

You can only keep up the facade of emotional stability for so long. Your chin wobbles in a horribly embarrassing way and you look down again. 

“I’m not sure—I’m not sure if he really did anything or if I’m just being dramatic and I don’t want to make him seem—”

“Why don’t you stop defending him and just tell me what he did?” Derek urges. “Trust me—I love that kid to death. But I also know he can be a dick sometimes. You don’t need to worry about making him look bad in front of me.”

Part of you is glad Spencer has such a good friend on his side. And Derek is right—Spencer is an adult. You don’t need to worry about besmirching his reputation. So you take a shuddering sigh, staring into the red of your drink. 

“He just doesn’t like me as much as I like him. Which isn’t his fault, like I said, but—he’s being such an asshole about it.”

Derek pulls a face, strong eyebrows making an impression as they knit.  

“Did he tell you that?”

“Over the phone,” you nod emphatically. “And just now he gave me this whole fucking speech about how immature and horrible I am for not being 100% happy about it. And maybe he’s partially right, I mean—I know people feel things differently and maybe he just was asking for more time. I worry I fucked it up so bad because I couldn’t handle that—but at the same time he didn’t say he wanted more time. He was really fucking unclear and vague about what he wanted, and he asked me to come to this bar like it was nothing when I’ve been worried he was going to break up with me all week. So yeah, I guess he’s right and I have been a bitch about it because I was upset that he didn’t… like me as much. And I wanted him to feel bad because I was so embarrassed, and I also didn’t want to act like everything was normal if he was just going to dump me, I…” you realize you’ve been hardcore rambling and your face heats. “I don’t know.”

There’s a pause, and you worry you’ve done exactly the thing you didn’t want to, which was overshare to this man who seems like he’s significantly more normal and well-adjusted than you. You drink deeply, swallowing sugar and the rest of your words. 

“That’s… bizarre. I don’t mean to invalidate your feelings, but… that just doesn’t make any sense.”

“Yeah,” you scoff, projecting annoyance so you won’t start crying again. “I was confused too. I thought he really liked me.”

“No, sweetheart, I’m saying—that doesn’t make sense because he does really like you. Really, really likes you, more than I’ve ever seen him like someone before. I mean, last week I finally finished that Tesla biography he’s been on my ass about for months and when I told him, all he wanted to do was talk about your thoughts on it. And then it wasn’t even about the book anymore. I have never, ever seen Reid pass up an opportunity to talk about Nikola Tesla. I’m talking never in my life. He finds a way to make every conversation about you. I can’t even follow the connections sometimes but he always finds a way.”

Your nose wrinkles. 

“Sorry you’ve had to hear so much about me,” you mumble. Though you’re not really sorry. It feels good. A twinge of joy in all the murk. 

“I’m not. Like I said, I’ve known Spencer for a long time and I’ve never seen him this happy. I’m not about to let him fuck it up.”

“If I make him so happy then why did he tell me we don’t feel the same?” you whisper, reaching into the puddle of syrup and ice at the bottom of your now empty cup. 

“Is that exactly what he said?” Derek asks, after a long pause. You bite the maraschino cherry off the stem and nod morosely, grinding a long-gone stranger’s cigarette butt with your boot just to crush something. There’s another beat of silence. “Alright. You know what I think?”

You raise your head to meet his gaze, your own wide-eyed and expectant. 

“I think you two need to have an honest conversation. You’re both confused and hurting—I promise Spencer is feeling it too. If you talk to him he won’t be unkind to you.”

“He already was,” you admit. 

“I apologize if I’m out of line here, but you just told me you’ve been icing him out all week because you want him to feel bad. I’m willing to bet you don’t realize how sharp these claws are.” Derek grabs your hand as he says it and you marvel at how much he is the opposite of you. Everything he does and says seems so natural and reasonable and charming even if it would piss you off from anyone else—and you just met the guy. You can see why Spencer and Penelope speak so highly of him. “I think you’ve probably both had your moments these past few days. But that doesn’t mean neither of you deserve any more chances.”

He puts your hand back on your knee and pats it. 

“Besides, Spencer‘s not good at mean. I bet he’s inside worrying himself sick over whatever dumb shit he said to you. He’s probably hyperventilating as we speak.”

“It was really out of character for him,” you concede. 

“Yeah. He’ll be apologizing for a long while. It will get annoying. But he sure as hell won’t be doing it again, I can tell you that much. If he does, let me know. Emily and I will whoop his ass and call it a fitness evaluation.”

“I think that’ll be unnecessary,” you laugh thickly, pulling your sleeve over your hand and wiping away the few tears that haven’t quite dried. “But thank you.”

“Anytime. Now, it’s my birthday, and as a grown man I should not be getting involved in someone else’s relationship drama. I was supposed to be on the dance floor a while ago.” His tone is so warm and sugary by the time he finishes it could rot his perfect grin. It’s futile to hide the way your mouth twists into a reluctant smile as you look down and fix your hair—praying he can’t tell how fazed you are by his kindness. “You’re going to talk to him, right?”

“I’ll—yeah. Right,” you say quietly. But the sinking feeling in your stomach knows it’s a thing easier said than done. 

“Good,” Derek grunts, taking your empty cup before pushing himself back up to his feet and offering you a hand. “Do you want me to send him out here or do you want to come find him inside?”

You balk.

“Like—right now? I have to talk to him now?”

Before he can give you an answer you think you’d rather not have, the bar door is opening. From your spot you can’t see who it is right away, but Derek turns over his shoulder and does a double take before looking back at you. 

Spencer steps out onto the sidewalk, eyes scanning for until he realizes you’re a few feet shorter than usual. Sitting on a filthy public walkway is probably his worst nightmare, you realize, as you scramble to your feet and dust the crumbs of concrete from your palms against the back of your cold jeans. He begins to say your name, and it sounds like relief and regret, but you stop him. 

“I have to go wash my hands.”

It’s monotonous and mumbled and comes out too quickly but you don’t have time to worry about that as you brush past both of the men on your way back into the bar, making an immediate beeline for the bathroom. 

Your face burns with anxiety as you shut the door behind you, immediately drowning in the yellowish lighting which is so harsh but seems to illuminate almost nothing. Who paints a bathroom red? It’s suffocating. You feel like you’re inside an aorta. 

Water runs cool over your hands as you sniffle, rinsing the bits of dirt from red indents made by pebbles and things, and the soap is too floral and powdery but you wash twice anyway. Maybe you’ll just stay in here and wash your hands forever. 

There’s a light knock on the shiny wooden door and it makes you jump. Your name is muffled from the other side. 

“You in there?” 

Quickly you wipe under your reddened eyes in the mirror, trying to fix the slightly smudged makeup. 

The door opens when you don’t respond, and there’s Spencer, looking weary and tense all at once. Is that your fault?

“Hey,” you sniff, trying to effect casualness, but it comes out too quickly and your posture is too stiff. Under his all-seeing gaze you cross and uncross your arms, look at him and look away. Your hands end up in your pockets. He’d say crossed arms are a sign of self-soothing. 

“Hey.” His is more measured, and of course makes you feel embarrassed in comparison. The door swings shut behind him as he enters the small room and makes it feel that much smaller. “Are you… hiding from me in here?”

Yes. 

The graffitied toilet stalls to your left suddenly look fascinating. 

“Nope. Just washing my hands.”

This is not what Derek told you to do, you scold yourself internally. Stop being so scared. Be honest with him. 

Silence rings. All the brutally honest things you’d like to say choke you until your throat hurts and your eyes get hot. Yet again you feel like a stupid little girl who’s too emotional to communicate. 

You cross your arms. It’s an indulgence you feel you’re owed. 

Spencer says your name again and it’s too much. He never says it this often. When he does it feels good but now it’s too formal, makes you too aware of your own inadequacy, and how he must be seeing you—a wraith of a girl in a dingy bar bathroom with clammy hands and smudged eyeliner, practically shaking with fear under an unforgiving light. Someone who is too scared and much too sensitive. 

Spencer attempts to speak again. 

“What I said before, it was—”

“Can you just take me home?” 

It comes out on one exhalation and seems to stall him with all the effectiveness of a slap to the face. 

You don’t know where it comes from, either. 

Easier said than done, you’d thought a few moments ago. All the bravery Derek had tried to instill in you is gone, swallowed down the drain like soap scum. And now you’re choosing to let your fear win—because at least that’s a known quantity. The fear will never reject you. It will always be waiting with open arms. 

Too scared. 

The end feels imminent. You try to press yourself back together, fingernails biting into palms, trying to make something feel more tangible than the terrible knowingness that you’re careening toward an end which was supposed to be a beginning. It’s stifling and you wonder if Spencer is breathing it too. 

You can’t look at his face, but you watch him pocket his hands in his pants and there is so much impossible space between you in such a tiny room. 

“Yeah. I can.”

Something breaks. It’s small, and without fanfare. But it feels final. 

It’s just a ride home. Just a ride home. 

That’s all you have left, and you don’t know how you know it but you do. 

Something so important is being left in this stupid, dingy bathroom. Something that was at one point beautiful and shiny and so arrogant in its newness that it seemed it would never become ugly. And now you’re abandoning it without dignity on the chipped tile floor and in the cobwebs on the walls. It was bigger than you, it was you—and now it’s going to be nothing. 

A vehicle honks on the street. A boisterous group laugh explodes somewhere beyond the door. Water drips from a faucet. 

“I’ll… I’ll bring my car around.”

“Okay.”

But he just stands there for another moment. Like he can’t get himself to move. 

If only time would freeze before he could walk away. 

But it doesn’t. 

He sucks in a decisive breath. 

“Okay,” he murmurs. 

It’s that fucking phone call all over again. 

Then he spins on his heels and leaves you there.

Your time is up. 

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine

[sluttywoozi]

Starry Eyed | kmg x reader

Ten months together and every moment still feels brand new. 

Rating: T | WC: ~2.6k | Genre: romance, fluff | Pairing: kmg x reader

Warnings: kissing, food

Reader Notes: wears a dress, gets lifted by mingyu, referred to as ‘miss’ (forgot to add before, my bad!)

You’re not always ready when Mingyu rolls up to your house and knocks on your door, but on nights like tonight, you are. 

You’ve got your prettiest dress on, the one that he said makes your eyes sparkle, and you have a small container holding the cake you baked him just this afternoon. There’s a blanket, some battery powered fairy lights, and a bluetooth speaker in your bag, and as soon as you hear his timid raps on the wood, you’re on your feet and across the room. You don’t bother to slow yourself down as you open the door, long past pretending you do anything but sit on the couch waiting for him on nights like these. 

Especially since it’s his birthday. Well, almost. 

The smile that lights up his face when you appear has you fighting a swoon, though you know he would catch you before you hit the ground, his clumsiness absent when it comes to protecting you. 

“Hey baby,” he says softly, already leaning in for a kiss. You happily grant it, pressing your lips to his and feeling that familiar spark in your stomach, the one you’ve only ever felt with him. 

“Hi Mingyu,” you whisper, feeling oddly shy as he looks you up and down, taking in the bag on your shoulder and the box you carry. Normally, you’re empty handed, content to spend the hours just listening to music and talking about everything and nothing, like you always do. 

But you want him to feel special tonight, to feel the love that you foster for him, to see the roots of the flowers that grow in your heart, watered and fed by him and him alone. 

“Ready?” He asks, holding a hand out and waiting for you to take it, as if you could ever deny him. 

“Ready,” you grin, giggling as he pulls you through your garden gate and around to the passenger seat of his truck. He opens the door for you and holds your waist as you climb up, making sure you’re securely inside before closing your door and running around to the driver’s side. 

“Where are we going tonight?” You wonder, resting your head on the back of the seat and gazing at his profile, his sharp jawline and perfect nose and adorable ears. 

“I thought I’d take you to the lake, the stars are crazy this time of year,” he glances over at you, laying his hand palm up on your thigh. The corners of his lips quirk up when you lace your fingers through his and he brings your joined hands to his mouth for a kiss, like it’s just instinct by now. 

After ten months together, maybe it is. 

This will be the first of Mingyu’s birthdays that you’ll get to be with him for, and you’re honored and slightly nervous that he wants to spend the time leading up to it with you. It’s barely 9 pm, there’s still three hours until it’s actually his birthday, but he was adamant that he wanted you with him for the transition and you’ve never been one to tell him no. 

So here you are, driving down backroads and nodding along to the soft music playing on his radio, soaking in his lovely singing voice and stifling a smile at his lisp. He squeezes your hand when your song comes on, the one you decided together best matched your relationship, and you feel his ivy in your heart grow just a bit denser, just a bit greener. 

It’s not long before you pull up to the lookout, Mingyu parking on the gravel with not a single other car in sight. If you were with anyone else, you’d be nervous, scared of every shadow and the dark lake stretched out in front of you, but with Mingyu, you know you’re safe. 

He turns the truck off and unweaves his fingers from yours, jogging around to your side to open your door and help you down. You hold tight to your bag and the box of cake as he wraps his hands around your sides and helps you step down. You don’t mean to but you end up in his space when your shoes touch gravel, and there’s a split second of tension, one where you’re sure he’ll kiss your lights out. He just pulls away and takes your hand again, though, and you take in a deep breath and hold it long enough to blank out the dizziness he evokes. 

Mingyu is quick to unlatch the tailgate when you get to the back of his truck, and even quicker to hoist you up into the cargo bed, his hands respectful and his handling of you utilitarian. You know it’s just because he’ll get distracted if he lingers, but you wouldn’t mind if he wanted to dawdle a teeny bit more, not that you’ll ever tell him that. 

He hops up into the bed with you, walking over to the large metal storage box and pulling something out with a flourish. 

“Look, baby,” he grins, his eyes somehow brighter than his smile. 

You can’t quite tell what it is he’s holding, but then he unravels it and you realize with a gasp and a skip of your heart that he’s brought a bedroll. He must have packed it just for you, after you told him your back ached the last time you laid in the bed of his truck for hours. 

“You’re so sweet, I could cry,” you beam up at him from where you sit, rising to your feet so he can arrange the padding. You take the time to set up your own things, winding the fairy lights along the inner edges of the truck and powering on your bluetooth speaker, starting your mixed playlist at a volume low enough for you to talk over. The blanket was meant to go under you but now it can go over, and you’re even more grateful for his thoughtfulness when you feel the chilly spring breeze ruffle your dress. 

Perhaps it wasn’t the most practical choice of clothing, but you wanted to dress up for him a little bit, and you can’t fault yourself for that. 

“You look so pretty, I should have told you earlier,” Mingyu says as he settles on his back on the padding, reaching out for you with open arms. You kneel carefully and curl up next to him, grabbing a corner of the blanket and drawing it over both of your bodies as you lean back and rest your head on his outstretched arm. 

“Thank you,” you smile and tilt toward him for a kiss, your lips pressing against his softly before you pull away and snuggle into his chest. You feel a pressure on the top of your head and know he must have kissed you there too, eliciting a flurry of butterflies in your stomach. 

Ten months together and every moment still feels brand new. 

You turn your eyes to the sky and take in the blanket of stars above you, their light striking on such a cloudless evening. 

You know the visible constellations in this area thanks to countless nights spent like this, but you let him point them out to you anyway, just because he gets so excited to tell you about their stories. 

He can summon them from memory by now, having lived in this small town his whole life. You moved here only two years ago, and met Mingyu before you even moved in. 

After hours of driving, your sweet little car broke down a mile from the city line, with all of your earthly possessions packed in the back. You were close to tears, sitting on the side of the road trying to get in touch with your insurance when he pulled up behind you and hopped out. 

You were nervous at first, he’s such a large man and he has such a large truck, but then he smiled at you and asked in the most gentle voice you’d ever heard, “Need some help, miss?” 

You, obviously, fell in love immediately, but you were sure a guy like him would be taken already so you kept your feelings to yourself and tried not to let your eyes linger on his muscles as he loaded your things into the bed of his truck. 

You had to look up your own address when he asked, and offered to give him directions but he just turned to you and said softly, “No need, miss, I know how to get there.” 

And he did. Fifteen minutes later, he was parking in front of your new home and offering to bring your belongings in if you’d run ahead and get the door. All of your city-bred instincts told you not to let him into your house, but you decided then and there to put your faith in him, and to this day, he’s never made you regret it. 

Mingyu asks you a question, pulling you out of your reverie, and you feel your cheeks heat as you realize you drifted off in thought while he was speaking. 

“Sorry, I missed that. What did you say?” You ask, looking up at him with your most apologetic eyes. 

He just grins and shakes his head, knowing you get lost in your head sometimes. 

“I asked if you believe in soulmates,” he repeats in a nonchalant voice, the circles he swirls on your back the only sign that he’s nervous about your answer. 

You hum, contemplating carefully. You never believed in fate or destiny growing up, and the concept of soulmates always seemed to be so far-fetched, but you have to admit that Mingyu has made you think differently. 

He hardly ever leaves town, what were the odds of him being sent over to the city for a one day carpentry workshop? What were the odds of him coming back right after your car broke down? What were the odds of you even moving here in the first place? 

There were hundreds of small towns to pick from, why did you choose this one?

And how in the hell was he single when you finally worked up the guts to ask him on a date?

“Baby? You don’t have to answer, I know you don’t really believe in that stuff,” he forces a laugh, shifting under you. 

“I didn’t until I met you,” you confess, looking up to face him because you can feel his eyes on you. 

He searches your face, hope and nerves warring on his own until his gaze clears and his lips stretch in a shining, ardent grin. 

“I love you,” he whispers slowly, the words carrying more weight than they usually do. You know he always means it, but this time feels different, more like a promise. 

“I love you,” you send him a wobbly smile, your feelings bubbling up in your chest until you fear they’ll spill out of your eyes as tears. 

His hand comes up to cup your cheek, drawing you toward him just as you start to lean in. You’re happy to meet him in the middle and even happier to feel his lips on yours, to feel him breathe his love into you. 

You kiss for what feels like hours, always keeping the gentle, languid pace. There’s no urgency, no blaze of desire, just a warm, comforting feeling overtaking you, something like sinking into a hot bath after a long, freezing day. 

When you finally pull away, it’s because an alarm goes off, one that you completely forgot you set in the first place. You reach into your bag for your phone and you’re shocked to discover it actually has been hours since you started kissing him, your sense of time completely skewed when it comes to Mingyu. 

In just five minutes, it will be his birthday, and if you didn’t have the forethought to set an alarm for 11:55, you would have kissed him right through midnight. 

This gives you just enough time to get everything ready, and though he pouts when you peel yourself off of him, you know he’s excited for what you have in store. 

“Close your eyes,” you instruct him softly, waiting for his eyelids to flutter shut before springing into action. 

He didn’t ask you to do anything but spend time with him, and while you’re happy to do that, you still couldn’t stop yourself from preparing just a little something. 

You dig through your bag again to find the utensils, birthday candles, and lighter buried at the bottom before grabbing the container you stashed by the tool box. Wishing, hoping, praying the cake hasn’t been ruined, you take off the lid and breathe a sigh of relief at the sight of unmarred frosting. 

Mingyu is no stranger to your baking, but this is the first cake you’ve specifically made just for him, and you want it to be perfect. 

With the clock ticking, you carefully push the 2 and 7 candles in, setting the container down next to him and lighting the wicks just as your second alarm goes off. There’s only one minute till midnight now, and you leave your phone clock on so you can watch the time go from 11:59 to 12:00. 

“Okay, open,” you tell him, kneeling a foot from where he lays, your lips bitten between your teeth and your hands clasped together in excitement.

When he blinks his eyes open and you see his face in the candlelight, the sheer love and devotion that floods your chest takes your breath away. You couldn’t exactly hide the cake container so you know he was aware you were planning something, but his eyes still grow wide in joyful shock, the beam that spreads his kiss-swollen lips enough to send your heart galloping away. 

“Baby, you did all this just for me?” He asks, his voice just a bit watery and his eyes only slightly glassy. 

“Of course I did, Gyu, I love you. Now, make a wish and blow out the candles, it’s almost midnight!” You urge him, watching as his eyes squeeze shut and his lips move, like the wish won’t come true if he doesn’t actually spell it out. 

You don’t try to decode his words, even though you’re sure he won’t tell you what his wish was. You’ll let him keep it, you think, and make your own wish that his will come true. 

His eyes open before he purses his lips and pushes out a breath, extinguishing the candles and grinning up at you with a secret in his smile. You can only surmise the wish involves you, and curiosity sinks its claws deep into you, down to the bone. 

“You’re not going to ask what I wished for?” Mingyu gleefully teases you, reading you like you’re a book he’ll never put down. 

“Nope,” you shake your head magnanimously, faking serenity even though you know he can see right through it. 

His face softens into something fond, and before he can even reach for you, you’re leaning down and pressing your lips to his. It’s just a chaste, loving peck this time, mainly because you can tell Mingyu is itching to taste the cake. “Happy birthday,” you murmur into his lips before pulling away and pushing the cake closer to him. 

“Have at it,” you giggle as you hand him a fork, watching as he digs in with gusto, his eyes closing and his face scrunching in delight at the flavors you chose. 

He lets out a pleased hum, then garbles through a mouth full of cake, “Thank you, baby. Best birthday ever.”

You won’t even beg him to swallow before speaking like you usually do - it's his day, after all. 

AN: happy birthday to the darling boy! sorry i'm a day late 💖

For mingyu and @bbychocolat

thank you for cheering me on @the-boy-meets-evil 💖

#mingyu oneshot #mingyu fanfic #mingyu x reader #mingyu fluff #mingyu scenarios #mingyu imagines #kim mingyu x reader #kim mingyu fluff #kim mingyu imagines #kim mingyu x you #seventeen fic #seventeen fluff #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #svt x reader #svt imagines #svt fluff #svt fanfic #✨emily writes✨

[bluesidez]

Can’t get Firefighter Miguel out of my head because of the Miggy discord.

content warning: nothing but fluff...for now 😗

word count: 1.3k, not proofread

Next ‧₊˚ ⋅ 𓐐𓎩 ‧₊˚ ⋅𓌉◯𓇋 Masterlist

Imagine you’re trying to get into baking or something and you’re not used to your oven AT ALL.

Cherry pies? Ruined.

Apple fritters? Apple crisps.

Chocolate chip cookies? Charcoal chip cookies.

Brownies? More like burnt brownie brittle.

Your process would be going so well until it was time to actually put your dessert in the oven and it was like your oven plotted against you.

You set the right temperatures. You pre-heated. You even placed things in the right part of the oven. How is it that everything goes wrong?

The only desserts that saw the light of day were the no-bake ones. You’re not sure how much more no-bake cheesecake you could take anymore.

The day that really sets it off is the day that you attempted to make a simple vanilla birthday cake. Your friend’s birthday was coming soon and you wanted to gift her one of those cute bento cakes.

Your icing is finished and delicious. You’ve been practicing the decorations all week and they were pretty cute! The cake just a few more minutes left to bake, then you could take it out to chill.

As you’re piping a bag of baby pink icing, you look up to see that the room is a little foggy. You turn in a panic and notice puffs creeping from the oven.

“No, no, no!!!” you cry as you turn to open it.

You can’t do anything but cough as a ton of smoke hits you in the face.

Your cake on fire. Orange and yellow light illuminating the oven.

You panic as the fire seems to grow brighter once it hits the air.

“Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god!”

Where was your fire extinguisher? You tried fanning at fire with a towel, but to no avail. You couldn’t even get to the knobs to switch the oven off.

You step back, terrified. You felt like sobbing watching the flames take over. Why aren’t the sprinklers on?

By the time you run out of your house, the fire alarm decides it can sing its tune. You call 911 with a shaky voice, hoping they can get here faster than your alarm decided to make itself known.

You stand outside peeking through your eyes as you could see the flames grow near your kitchen window.

Thankfully the firetruck makes it in time, the firefighters working quick to get inside.

One of them asks is anyone else inside and you shake your head no, thankful that it was just you.

It doesn’t take long for them to put it out and come back outside.

“Are you ok?,” one of them comes to ask you. You look up to this tall, dark, and handsome man. He’s sweating a bit obviously from the summer heat and the fire as he takes his helmet off. His hair is curly and dripping. You ogle him a bit, watching his chest move up and down.

“Do we need to call you an ambulance?” he says, placing a heavy hand on your shoulder.

“Oh! No! So sorry, I’m still a little…winded from everything,” you say, embarrassed.

“Ok, well as long as you’re fine. Do you mind telling me what you were doing?” he asks.

You cast your eyes down. Here was such a fine man standing before you and you had on pajamas and a frilly maid apron with flour splattered on top.

“I was trying to make a birthday cake. As we can see, it completely failed,” you reply. “I don’t know what happened. I followed every instruction. The oven was set at 350 degrees.”

He tilted his head at you as you whined away.

“Is this the first time that something like this has happen?”

You shake your head no, “This is the 3rd burnt dessert in a week.”

“Hm. Well I’ll have the crew here check it out.”

An hour and some change later, one of the firefighters tells you and the tall glass of water, who learn is a captain named Miguel, that you have a damaged gas line.

“You’re really lucky that you were only getting blackened sugar. One more cake and that could have been the end,” Miguel says to you with hand on his hip and another on your shoulder. “And also, never open the oven if there’s a fire. If this happens again, turn the oven off and wait until it dies down.”

You felt your head nodding, heart beating at how awkward everything felt.

Miguel looked down at you again, “Do you have anywhere you can stay over night? Or until I can get someone up here to get this gas fixed?”

“My grandma lives a couple of streets down,” you say, cheeks heated at his intense eye contact.

“Tell you what, how about you settle there for the night and I’ll come back personally to help you grab your belongings tomorrow morning?”

“That would be amazing! Thank you so much. I’m sorry for all of this,” you gesture to your house.

“It happens. Nothing you did here was your fault. Besides, I’m the captain. Fighting fires is what I do. Now, how about a ride in the truck to your grandma’s?”

You feel giddy when he practically pulls you in the truck. No seats are left so you have to settle for sitting on Miguel’s lap, heartbeat racing.

The other firefighters try to hide their smirks and snickers watching their captain hold you so softly in his arms. One big bump in the road has you clinging to him to not fall off.

You straighten back up, embarrassed by the little slip. Miguel chuckles at your actions.

You pretend not to hear their wolf whistles as he guides you to your grandma’s front door.

Miguel knocks firmly, waiting with you until she opens it.

She’s about to fuss at you for not stopping by sooner until she looks up at Miguel.

“And who is this?” she says, a bit shocked.

“My name is Captain O’Hara. I just wanted to drop your grandbaby off. Had a little baking accident.”

Your grandma listens to Miguel as he explains the situation calmly and professionally. It doesn’t stop her from fussing over you, grabbing and turning you to check for any damage.

“I’m ok grandma. I just have to stay here while my gas gets fixed.”

She thanks Miguel profusely, “Son, what’s your favorite food? I’ll have it made and sent down there for you.”

Miguel laughs heartily. You’re about to tell him he doesn’t have to answer that until he beats you to it.

“Whatever your specialty is, I’ll take it,” he says with a sweet smile on his face and holding your grandma’s hands.

“Cap! We gotta another fire at the college dorms. Someone burnt noodles in the microwave again,” a firefighter yells from truck.

“Well if you all can excuse me, duty calls!” he says and runs back to the truck.

“I can’t believe you burnt a cake! Haven’t I taught you better? And you know you’re making him that food, right?” your grandma says as you step inside.

“Grandma,” you say, affronted. “It was the oven, not me! And he might not want to even eat what I make after this.”

“Hmph,” she says, with a click of her tongue. “Well, you better get ready to use this kitchen here. You need that man as a husband.”

“Grandma.”

“I have some ham hocks in the freezer, some turnip and mustard greens. I think the church sent me some potatoes. We need to go to the store too. You gotta get him through his stomach.”

“Grandma!”

There was a silence as you and your grandma stared at each other.

“So are you thinking pork chops or catfish to go with the side dishes?” she said, grabbing a pencil and an empty envelope.

You just groaned and crumpled in your chair.

divider by: @benkeibear ❤️‍🔥

the grandma convo is heavily inspired by my own grandma lol. tagging @miguelhugger2099 @kit-and-wolfe @huniedeux @ugh-ok-fiyn because I want y’all to see this 😗

#love lab drabbles 💊 #Firefighter!Miguel ❤️‍🔥 #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o’hara x gn!reader #miguel 2099 #spiderman 2099 au #spiderman 2099 x you #miguel o’hara x y/n #x black reader #miguel x black reader

[daisyvisions]

✦ Day 26 - Corruption

⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Pairing: Pervy! Bestfriend Sunwoo x innocent!reader

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Word Count: 1.4K

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Warnings: Smut (18+, minors DNI), corruption kink, slight manipulation (if you squint, don't read if triggering), dry humping, unprotected sex, a very pervy and kinda possessive sunwoo, ass grabbing, pet name (sweetheart, baby), let me know if I missed anything!

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. A/N: had to change the whole theme and plot for this one since I really couldn’t think at all on how to write it out BUT I still hope you like it! Wish I had more time to write it out better but here we are. This was also a combination of 3 asks that I haven't gotten to answering so here it is 😮‍💨 Proofread once

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Network: @deoboyznet

✦ Kinktober Masterlist ✦

Sunwoo loved touching you.

The way your soft hands would hold his, how you would lean your head on his shoulder, the feeling your body pressed up against his as he embraced you, he loved it all.

He loved it a little too much actually. So much to the point he thought about wanting to touch you in other places he shouldn’t be touching.

It was wrong, he knew that. But he couldn’t help himself.

He’d been dying to get his hands on you ever since you’ve become friends. But it was hard when your were such a sweet innocent little thing. He didn’t want to scare you off if he suddenly did it.

Sunwoo had to find a way to touch you. But how?

Suddenly, he remembered that it was your birthday coming up. And by coincidence he also happen to stumble upon an ad on his phone that made him grin from ear to ear.

He was gonna finally have his way with you.

“Come out sweetheart, let me see.”

“But Sunwoo I’m shy… are you sure this is okay?”

“As long as it’s on you I’m sure it’ll look beautiful I promise” You hear his muffled reassurance from behind the bathroom door.

When your best friend he had a surprise for you on your birthday you were not expecting this kind of gift at all…

You take a look at yourself for a moment, soaking in how your soft body looks covered in this really pretty laced lingerie set. He doesn’t even hide the fact that the tent in his pants are twitching just seeing you like this.

You took in a deep breath and slowly exhaled before opening the door to reveal your barely covered body.

“Sweetheart… you look fucking gorgeous.” Sunwoo says, soaking every inch of your body as he looks at you up and down. Your cheeks start to grow warm from the way he looks at you.

“Come here, I wanna take a closer look.” He motions you with his hand. You try to shield your body with your arms as you walk towards him sitting on the edge of your bed.

Sunwoo grabs you by the wrists and pulls you to straddle his lap, one hand tracing the patterned laced on your bra as the other hand rests on your lower back.

Your breath hitches at his bulge slightly nudging your core, making you feel something strange growing at the pit of your stomach.

“Fuck just look at you… I could almost eat you up-” His hands now slowly roaming your body, trying to make you ease into his touch.

When he shifts his position for a moment, you feel his bulge nudge you again. You let out a very faint whimper by accident, eyes growing wide from embarrassment.

But all you could see was Sunwoo’s mischievous smirk, knowing exactly what you’re feeling at this moment.

“What’s wrong sweetheart?” He holds your chin up to look into your eyes as his other hand starts massaging your ass.

“C’mon, you can always tell me.” He whispers.

“I feel k-kinda weird...” You whisper back.

“Where does it feel weird? Point it out to me-” He asks. You start to become shy at first, wondering if this is something your best friend should even know about. You slowly move your hand to direct his gaze at your core.

“Oh, I see. So… if I move you like this-” Sunwoo places both hands on your waist and pulls you forward, making your core rub against his bulge once again. You gasp at the feeling as it nudges your core even deeper.

“Y-yeah. I don’t know what it is.” You look at him with worried eyes.

“Sweetheart, it’s not a weird feeling at all. It should feel good… Does it feel good for you?” He continues to slowly rock your hips back and forth, making you nod your head as you bite your bottom lip.

“You wanna know something?” He asks. You tilt your head slightly curiously.

“It feels really good for me too…” He groans, pushing your hips down to make you grind on him further. You moan at the sensation it brings you, even the way Sunwoo’s strong hands hold you down.

As Sunwoo continues to help you grind yourself onto his crotch, you can’t help but stare at his plump lips. Without thinking, you impulsively peck them. Your eyes grow wide as you just realized what you’ve done.

“Sunwoo I- I’m so sorry I shouldn’t have-” your apology is cut off as he kisses you back. His lips attacking yours aggressively as he moves your hips faster.

You pull away from him for a moment, trying to catch your breath as he leans forward to kiss your chest.

“Sunwoo wait-” He doesn’t listen as he licks and sucks the top of your breasts.

“We can’t. T-this is something only boyfriends do-” Now that phrase is what gets him to stop.

“But friends can do this too sweetheart, didn’t you know?” He looks at you like it’s a well known fact.

“And it’s even better because I'm your best friend. Best friends are supposed to help each other right?” He pouts as he rubs circles on the dips of your hips.

“Y-yes…” You stutter. Still worried that what you feel for him might drive him away.

“And it looks like we both have a problem down there. I can help us both. Do you trust me?” You feel his bulge growing harder as you nod in response.

“I’ll make you feel good sweetheart, I promise. Just keep this between us okay?” He kisses you before unbuckling his pants to lower them enough to his knees.

He wastes no time pushing your hips down again on his hard bulge, the friction of his covered cock nudging your sensitive bud is even more pleasurable as the layers of clothing between you have lessened.

“Feels s-so good…” You mindlessly mumble as pleasure takes over your senses.

Sunwoo’s hands grab your ass harshly, making you whine from the slight sting but it turns you on even more. You moan his name as you feel an unfamiliar sensation growing in your abdomen.

“That’s it sweetheart, use my cock.” He groans.

Your hips roll on their own as they move faster, trying to reach that peak you’re desperately craving. He crashes his lips onto yours, tongues moving together so erotically.

You don’t even have time to process what’s going on until you suddenly hit your orgasm, making you bite his bottom lip out of impulse.

“Fuck I need to be inside you right now. Can I? Fuck- please let me fuck you-” He moans.

“But is that oka-”

“As long as we’re helping each other right?” He asks, his thumb grazing your bottom lip.

“O-okay. Just… it won’t hurt right?” You look at him with worried eyes.

“Just a little, but it will feel so good. Gonna fill you up so good sweetheart I promise-” He fumbles as he slightly lifts his hips to pull down his boxers, kicking them to the side as he pulls your panties to the side. Your mouth waters at the sight of his leaking cock, eager to know how it will feel inside in a few moments.

Sunwoo helps you lift your hips, tugging at the base of his member as he aligns himself at your entrance before slowly lowering you down.

You start to feel the head stretch out your walls, whining at the pain as he bottoms out into you. He gives you a moment to adjust before he slowly grabs your waist again to drag your hips back and forth as his cock gliding inside your tight walls.

“I-feel so full-” You whine, wrapping your arms around his neck as you try to roll your hips yourself.

“Doing so good sweetheart.” Sunwoo kisses your neck.

“Fuck- gonna ruin you for everyone else. Got that? After this I can only fuck you-” He growls in your ear, slapping your ass as he bites your earlobe. You nod in response.

He wraps his arms around your waist and thrusts himself up into you. Pounding his member so deep that you practically feel all of him.

“Gonna make you mine baby. All mine.” He groans against your lips.

All the sensations happening at the moment numb your head, feeling yourself drift away to the point you don’t even realize you’re cumming on his cock, moaning his name like a prayer.

You thank him profusely. You don’t even know why you’re thanking him but you do. He smirks at you as he caresses your cheek and leaves a kiss on your forehead,

“That’s what friends are for…”

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