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sailortongue · 7 months

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Laboratory Mishap

pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

wc: 2.9k

summary: after a lab experiment goes awry, you and spencer find yourselves in a heated situation

cw: smut, aphrodisiac/sex pollen (its not actual pollen but it fits the trope), oral (fem receiving), dubcon?, power dynamic, unprotected sex, semi-public sex

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Chemistry was the bane of your existence. You had never struggled so much with a subject. You had completed three general chemistry classes, two genchem labs, three organic chemistry classes, two ochem labs, and now you were taking biochem and a biochem lab. But despite all of your academic background, you still didn't have the slightest iota of understanding.

Even so, you couldn't stop yourself from looking forward to the weekly lab. You hated having to change from shorts into pants in the tiny bathroom stalls (no way in hell were you walking all the way across campus in high-humidity weather wearing pants). You hated the red line on your forehead from the goggles. You hated having to stand for 2+ hours because the lab wasn't equipped with stools. You hated chemistry in general. But you loved seeing the uber attractive GA, Spencer Reid.

More often than not, you spaced out during his pre-lab instructions. You were too busy focusing on anything about him that wasn't the jargon coming from his lips. Your poor lab partner always ended up having to re-explain the procedure. But today, that wasn't an option. Your lab partner had a wedding to attend today and, instead of being in your usual lab session, had opted to join yesterday’s lab session, leaving you all by your lonesome. Initially, you had cursed their name to hell and back for forsaking you like this, but, after Spencer offered to give you all the extra help you needed, you were suddenly exceedingly happy that your partner wasn't here.

You could see the scathing looks directed at you by some of the other girls in class. Of course you weren't the only one who had immediately taken a liking to the young GA. Only a blind person wouldn't be able to see how good looking he was. And the girls in your class were definitely not blind. You couldn't help but feel a bit smug that you would be getting his extra attention and not them.

Spencer, unbeknownst to you, was having similar thoughts and was mentally extending his gratitude to your absent lab partner. He was more than aware of the implications of coming onto a student, especially since as a GA he was in a position above you. But he wanted to be above you in the literal sense, and it was beginning to cause him to question his morals. You were the same age, so how bad could it really be? He’d noticed your frequent glances at him and reveled in the fact that you couldn't keep your eyes off of him.

During the course of the lab, Spencer was essentially your replacement lab partner. In an attempt to not show his blatant favoritism, he didn't actually guide you through the lab and instead just followed your instructions, such as pouring out chemicals into the waste bucket and washing beakers. Labs were lengthy enough with two people working together, and although Spencer would like to keep you all to himself past the time the others had already left, he remembered how miserable it was to have to stay late.

But even with his help, you still found yourself to be the last one. And not only were you the last one, but you weren’t even close to being done. Since there wasn't anyone to tell him otherwise, Spencer took pity on you and gave you far more help than he probably should have. But if he was being totally honest with himself, he just wanted an excuse to be close to you. Even though there was more than enough room at the bench, he still stood near enough that your arms occasionally brushed. Every time you handed him something he made sure his fingers met yours. And when you asked for his input about the data report? That was his favorite. His stature gave him the perfect excuse to lean down under the guise of seeing better, but he always bent down lower than he really needed to, just to have his face right next to yours and give him a front row seat to your flustered expression.

It took all of your willpower to keep your head out of the gutter. You were trying in vain to rationalize his actions. Like maybe he just didn't realize how close he was actually standing to you, and you were definitely overthinking the hand-to-hand contact, and maybe he just didn't have his contacts in and that’s why he was leaning so close. But try as you might, it wasn't enough to prevent you from getting severely distracted by the handsome GA, and getting severely distracted in a lab was typically advised against. In your flustered state, you grabbed the wrong pipette, and Spencer, just as distracted as you, didn't notice and was unable to stop the impending mistake.

Pipettes were made to measure precisely, but they don't all measure the same. So you'd royally fucked up the experiment by adding 10x the amount you were supposed to. And thanks to the stir plate the beaker was on, the solution was rapidly mixed together.

“Is it supposed to smell like that?” you asked nervously. It was a sharp, acrid smell, one you surely would have noticed earlier when your classmates were on this step.

Spencer was abruptly snapped out of his thoughts and looked at the beaker, the stir bar still spinning wildly within. He noticed the smell you were speaking of and instantly pulled you backwards. “No, no it's not. Don't breathe it in.”

He covered the lower half of his face with his elbow and grabbed the beaker from the stir plate with his other hand. He made his way to the fume hood as quickly as he could and shut the beaker within. But it was too late. You’d both inhaled the gas already, and, thanks to your biology major, you were more than aware of how sensitive the lining of the lungs is. It was literally designed to allow for gaseous exchange. Whatever you’d accidentally created was already making its way throughout your body.

As Spencer was making his way back over to you, he noticed that he was beginning to feel incredibly hot, and his breathing was becoming shallower. It was shortly after the onset of those systems that he realized his pants were progressively getting tighter in the crotch. This could not be happening. What in god’s name had you created? He was practically panting when he got back to your workbench and found you in a similar state.

You immediately began to spew apologies, but Spencer wasn't listening. No, he was far too focused on keeping his hands at his sides and not on you. He held a hand up to stop you rambling and swallowed harshly, trying to get himself under control. “It was an accident. Are you feeling okay?”

“Feel like I have a fever and my heart is beating way faster than it was a minute ago.” Your panties were also becoming wetter by the second but he didn't need to know that.

Spencer’s normally sharp mind was in a flurry. Even though you hadn't told him in words, your body betrayed the fact that you were just as aroused as he was. The subtle rubbing of your thighs together was a dead giveaway. You had your back to him, hands braced against the edge of your workbench. If Spencer was thinking straight, he never would have acted on his inappropriate thoughts; but he wasn't thinking straight. He closed the distance between the two of you, leaving no space between your bodies. He placed his hands on either side of yours, effectively caging you in his arms. Your breath hitched at the intimate position you found yourself in.

“I know you feel what I do,” he said, slightly pushing his hips into yours, his hard cock straining against its confines. “We can help each other out. Or, you could tell me to fuck off and I’ll let go as soon as you tell me to. Whatever we do or don't do, it's your choice. Just tell me what you want.” His voice was breathy and high-pitched by the end, and his self control was splintering by the second.

You adjusted your stance, the movement causing you to brush against Spencer’s front. He gasped and his hands flew to your hips, gripping them tightly and holding you in place tightly against him. “Don't-,” he panted. “Don't do that. Not until you answer me. I won't be able to stop if-”

You cut him off. “I don't want you to stop.”

And that was it. Throwing caution to the wind, Spencer spun you around to face him. “Are you sure?”

You surged forward to kiss him. Your goggles clacked together and you pulled away with a giggle. “Very sure,” you said, pulling your goggles off. Spencer followed suit.

He nodded. “Ok. Ok.” He sounded like he was trying to reassure himself that this was really happening. Despite his nearly painful erection, he tried to be as gentle as he could with you. He reconnected your lips in a tentative kiss as he wrapped his arms around your waist, but with the strange gas the reaction produced was still in the air and still wreaking havoc on both of you, it didn't stay gentle for long. What had started as a hesitant kiss devolved into a harsh collision of teeth and tongue.

Spencer’s hands migrated from your hips to your ass, pulling you flush against him. He couldn't stop the involuntary thrust of his own hips, desperately seeking friction. His mouth separated from yours as he dragged his lips down your jaw and reattached to your neck, sucking harshly and surely leaving dark marks all along the column of your throat.

He lowered his hands just enough for his fingertips to brush the back of your thighs, squeezing twice in a silent indication to jump. You tightened your grip around his shoulders to give you leverage. He hoisted you up to sit on the countertop and pushed your shirt above your breasts. You removed it entirely to give him full access. He groaned as he took in the sight of you breathless before him. “You're so pretty for me,” he praised before roughly pulling the cups of your bra down, exposing your nipples to the chill air of the lab, a stark contrast to the heat that had spread throughout your body so rapidly. He latched his lips to the newly exposed skin, his hand groping the other one. You reached behind your back to unlatch your bra and tossed it aside.

You threaded your fingers through his hair and tugged, pulling him off of your chest and back up to your lips. Both of your patiences were wearing thin, and neither of you could get the other undressed fast enough. You tugged on his tie and it soon joined your bra and shirt on the floor. You continued to unbutton his dress shirt as his eager hands groped at every part of you they could reach. When you’d finally gotten his dress shirt open, he didn't even give you the time to admire his physique and instead pulled you from the counter top to stand again.

He tugged on the waistband of your pants and pushed them down, leaving you to kick the material off of your feet. He quickly spun you around and placed a hand between your shoulder blades, urging you to bend over. You did as he wanted and felt his hands caress and grope your behind before his fingers hooked under the waistband of your panties and pulled them down just enough to expose your cunt to his hungry eyes. He groaned at the sight. “You're so wet baby. All for me.”

Spencer dropped to his knees behind you and immediately pressed his face between your legs. You squealed at the sudden contact, his tongue doing wonders for the built up need you had for him. He licked a broad stripe up your pussy before alternating between suckling and licking the sensitive flesh. Your whines and whimpers only spurred him on further, becoming more vigorous with his ministrations. The increased intensity had you gasping for breath and calling his name. “That’s right, angel. Who's making you feel this good? Hm? Whose face are you going to cum all over?”

“Yours! Please, Spencer, don't stop!”

He chuckled briefly before resuming his eager lapping at your core. He hummed against you in affirmation, pushing you closer and closer to the edge until the pleasure was just too much to bear. You came with a cry of his name, and he didn't stop until you were begging for a reprieve.

The unnatural heat that had spread throughout your body upon inhalation of the fumes was finally dissipating, leaving you with the normal flush one would expect afterwards. But Spencer was nowhere near recovered, and he had no intentions of letting you go until he was satisfied. He stood from his place on the floor and made quick work of his belt, only pushing his pants low enough to free his aching cock, dripping with precum. He stroked himself as he spoke. “We’re not done yet, angel. Not by a long shot. Not until your sweet cunt is dripping with me.”

His words sent heat racing to your core. Who needs aphrodisiac fumes when Spencer can talk to you like that.

He swiped the tip of his cock through your folds a few times before lining his tip up with your opening. He pressed forward and groaned at the sensation of you squeezing around him so deliciously. He pushed further and further until he bottomed out. His jaw fell slack in complete and utter bliss. “Oh, you feel so good, baby. Can I move? Please, please, I can’t wait any longer,” he begged. You’d let him do anything if he begged you as prettily as he did then.

You hummed in assent, and he wasted no time in pulling out until just the head of his cock remained buried in you and then thrusting back in. You let out a loud moan, already completely overwhelmed with just how good he felt inside of you. The more he thrusted, the needier he got and the more that unnatural heat in his chest smoldered. His hands gripped your hips tightly and he pulled you back to meet him with every thrust into your sopping cunt.

“I'll bet none of those silly little frat boys can make you feel like this, huh. I’ll bet they always leave you unsatisfied. But you're gonna cum for me again, right? You can do that f’me, can't you? Be my good girl and cum all over my cock.”

The sound of skin slapping against skin increased in tempo as he chased his high, wanting nothing more than to feel you clench around him as he emptied himself inside of you. You moaned shamelessly, the deep and harsh thrusts of cock almost too much to bear. You couldn't speak even if you wanted to. The only word you were capable of uttering was his name.

His grunts were turning into whines the closer he got to his impending orgasm. “Cum with me, baby. C’mon, you can do it,” he said, moving one of his hands down to rub circles on your clit. That was all it took to have you creaming around his cock, your orgasm triggering his. The moan that came from him was pure sin as he spilled himself inside your cunt, just as he had promised. He collapsed on top of you, cock softening within you as it twitched with every flutter of your walls around him. When you had both sufficiently caught your breath, he stood back upon and gently pulled himself out of you. You winced at the loss of contact, still extremely sensitive. You pushed yourself off of the workbench and turned to see Spencer tucking himself back into his pants. It was then that you realized you were stark naked in a university laboratory. You saw your panties lying near your feet and you hastily put them back on, followed shortly after by the rest of your clothing, which Spencer helped pick up from the floor where they had been unceremoniously discarded.

“Would you want to get coffee with me sometime?” Spencer asked suddenly, the words spoken so fast they nearly blended together.

You were taken aback. You had expected him to want to pretend this never happened but here was asking you on a date. You grinned, a prominent blush on your face as you accepted his offer.

He beamed, a broad smile overtaking his face. “Great! I’ll pick you up Saturday morning?”

“Yeah, sounds good. I think I can safely assume it won't be the coffee shop on campus?”

“Even though we're the same age, you're still one of my students. So until you finish this course…” he trailed off.

You grabbed his tie and pulled him closer to you until your faces were a hairsbreadth apart. “I’m completely fine with being your dirty little secret until then as long as you fuck me like that again.”

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

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saiidahyunie · 1 month

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fake and true

minatozaki sana x f!reader || pt.2 pt.3

synopsis: you think you struck gold with an offer that's impossible to ignore, and sana thinks she's hit the jackpot in matchmaking.

warnings: fluff ; cursing ; alcohol ; money talks ; reader is terrible at narrating ; sana is a few years older than reader ; tzuyu x shuhua pairing ; college student / tuition struggles ; jihyo mentioned but never appears ; not proofread

a/n: haven't wrote for sana in a HOT minute, also my first fic that actually uses a proper twice song?!?!

you first hear about it first from your best friend chou tzuyu.

“it’s an app,” she says while sitting on your couch, painting gloss on her nails with your little makeup box that you keep under the nightstand in your room. tzuyu then tosses the small bottle back into the box next to her with no care for it; she’s usually careless about most of the things in her life. “it’s just a way to make money.”

make money? you think, and ask, with an eyebrow peaked up. isn’t that technically–like sex work? but minus the onlyfans biz—

“don’t be so reductive,” tzuyu corrects sharply. “it’s being called a sugar baby. and sometimes it’s not even that bad. sometimes the girls on there don’t even want sex. just company. they’ll pay you for dinner and that’s it. it doesn’t have to be so exclusive or that involved.”

“have you ever done it for yourself?” you ask.

“me?” tzuyu snorts. “no, of course not. but it’s all online. a bunch of women have talked about it.” she looks up from her hand and gazes at you meaningfully. “i’m not saying that you should do it, but if you’re that desperate then why not? it’s really not that bad.”

it’s really not that bad, you think, and just days later, you’re reminded with the numbers of your bank statements.

you rent was due in a week.

you just paid for the internet, drawing cash from whatever was left from your recent loan. most of the tip money you scrapped together for the necessary utilities in the house alone. there was also the debate if it was really necessary to cover the light bill when you could just go to bath and body works and use that money for strategically placed candles around the apartment instead. the water bill was necessary, obviously. and cheap, thank god—you never used it more than you needed to— but rent. rent.

unfortunately, you can’t cut corners with that one.

you take another bracing swig of your wine, staring hard into your computer screen. you phone rests right beside your elbow, and you glance at it, considering. mina had told you that you can always ask—

but no. your cousin never had much money to spare, and you can’t expect her to throw hundreds and hundreds of dollars your way every time you find yourself wanting, not when she needs it, herself. not when she’s the one who gave you the warning of going to grad school in the first place, having anticipated this happening. you can’t do that to her and live with yourself.

but then again, you can’t pay your rent and live in general. you were already on your landlord’s ass for the last overdue payment as it is.

so you let out an exasperated sigh, with your face in your hands, borderline breaking a sob, before ruthlessly scratching your hair and inhale through your teeth. you don’t know what to do.

you had a good case for compartmentalization. since you were little, you know that some parts of your life were meant to be separate and not coincide with the other. stress from school should not bleed into your work. a bad grade from an exam doesn’t mean that you can spend your day wallowing in the corner of your room and crying. your one option, the only option really, was to get better, try harder, and don’t cry. find your own solutions. it’s what mina kept preaching for you all throughout college: “find your own solutions.”

find, you think again, distantly, and you look at the black screen of your phone. your own solutions.

“it’s really not that bad.”

you bite your lip hard, mind racing, pulse jumping beneath your throat. your adrenaline spikes as you reach for it, taping the screen and opening the app store. the thought in your brain rattles much like: i don’t want to, i don’t want to, but you have to, because you never have enough money, and you can’t afford to work a second job while being a full-time student, and even then it might not be enough. may never be enough. and you have to. the rent is due at the end of the day.

a fingertip taps on the screen of the light pink app, and it’s downloading. once you open it, you refuse to give the urge to throw your phone across the room and forget that you ever thought of trying this; that you smash it into pieces and toss it into the garbage disposal. but that would be just another expense added onto the list, and you already can’t afford the one you have.

with a deep breath and another sip of the expensive wine, you suck it up and make a profile.

when the matches start coming in, you’re getting nervous.

you drew the line of age range maxing it at just pushing 30 and above, you didn’t want to play with the idea of speaking to anyone older, even if it was just for dinner. most of the women you see are largely unappealing. most of their bios are either cookie cut with the similar story of their life or skevvy, worst comes to worst of the thought being that it wasn’t a viable solution for her money situation.

the reality sinks in, and you’re nearly brought to tears.

you’ve only ever had three semi-serious relationships. two of them were in high school, the last being with your ex-girlfriend when you were in your undergrad courses: elizabeth. she was kind to you, and sweet, and very patient. she had a predilection towards arrogance, having grown up with everything pretty much handed to her, but she was good, down to the marrow. it was because of you that the relationship broke; you had aspirations to go to school and elizabeth wanted to settle down, and you were unwilling to meet her in the middle, knowing that something was off. despite all of her vitreus and being aware, despite the fact that you loved her– truly, honestly— she wasn’t the one: she wasn’t the person that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with.

and, you think wryly, staring down at your phone screen, at the new message notification. neither is park jihyo sadly.

but that doesn’t really matter, does it? you didn’t download the damn app to find a wife.

you click on her name. her profile is as spares as it was an hour ago: a brief descpirtion of her job—district attorney, head prosecutor– and three photos of herself, none of them were too grand, just her in a well fit dress or blazer. the photos all lend an air of importance, however. of severity. this is a woman who clearly knows what she wants and is used to getting it. you’re simply another play-thing she gets to choose. the thought chills you.

opening the message. it’s a matter of fact as you expected it to be:

do you like dinner?

hi! you type back, cringing with a stank face while your thumbs twiddle with the phone screen. of course i love dinner!

great. a few seconds pass before her icon pops up again, and your heart jumps to the hollow of your throat when you read: would you like to join me for dinner this weekend? and before you can ask, yes, you will be compensated for it.

the upper row of your teeth are latched to your bottom lip, thumbs hovering over the keyboard. the edges of your phone slide agaisnt your clammy palms. you can feel the pulse booming in her ears, like a rush of a tsunami. if you wanted to, this could be the last chance to say no, to delete the app and pretend you were never in this madness to begin with. maybe you can ask mina for money. what cost is your pride, anyway, when compared to this?

but you already had your mind set on what you were going to say before you could even type it out.

yes! i would love to. <3

it’s amazing for the bold courage you had to tell when you see her on campus, isolated in a corner of the library. tzuyu takes you completely by surprise when she shrieks in the quiet environment.

“you managed to get a fucking sugar mommy?!”

“shut up!” you hiss, looking around frantically. none of the other students nearby seemed to have noticed her outburst. “nothing is official. i only agreed to go out to dinner with her.”

“still,” tzuyu adds, leaning back in her chair, eyes appearing like she’s caught in a daze. “i didn’t expect you, of all people, to actually do it. you barely just lost your virginity.’

“that’s not true.”

“a vibrator doesn’t count.”

“i was talking about elizabeth!”

“who you broke up with two years ago. my point still stands,” tzuyu says. her bewilderment has melted from her face, leaving a begrudging amusement. “i still can’t believe you did it, though.”

“you’re the one who recommended it to me.”

“i know! but when the hell do you ever listen to me?” she retorts, setting her elbows on the table and cradles her chin with her palms, staring at you expectantly. “so? are you gonna show me pictures of her?”

“i wasn’t really planning on it,” you say wryly, but pull your phone out anyway. “it’s not like she’s a girl that i’m actually talking to.”

“oh, but she is,” tzuyu says, taking it. your attention shifts from her face to jihyo’s profile, flushing slightly when you notice the disappointed frown that tugs at her friends lips. “she’s cute, but i don’t know…”

“what makes you say that?”

“well….you know…”

you bristle, shaking your head, “you said it yourself, some women will pay you for the company. she said that i’d be compensated for dinner but didn’t mention anything after.”

“well, thank god,” tzuyu replies, scrolling through the messages now, pausing over the one selfie you sent to prove that you weren’t a catfish: her request to add by the way. “do you know what you’re gonna wear?”

“probably some cocktail dress. she said we’d be eating at a restaurant in a hotel. so, i’m not picturing anything that fancy.”

“i’ve looked through your closet, though. you don’t have any cocktail dresses.”

“yes, i do. the blue one. with the long sleeves.”

horror is drawn all over tzuyu’s face. “you mean the one you wore to your senior homecoming. when you were eighteen?”

“yeah, it’s nice.”

tzuyu takes your hand from across the table, giving you a look that makes your stomach clench form embarrassment; a look the precedes many of her statements about their different priorities, the vast gap between their socio-economic classes.

“no offense, y/n. you’re drop dead gorgeous. you’d look beautiful in a black plastic trash bag, but that dress? are you kidding? at–tell me about the restaurant again?”

“four seasons.”

tzuyu then slams her palm down flat on the table, earning a glare from the girl sitting behind her. “at the fucking four seasons? hell no. absolutely not. you’re not wearing that, especially if it looks like you got it from fucking windsor.”

to be fair, she was right about that one. although there’s no point in bringing it up now. “i mean, i don’t have anything else to fall back to.”

“i’ll let you borrow something. i have, like, a million cocktail dresses.”

“nothing you have will fit. i’m about your height but your waist is more snatched than mine.”

“that’s very true, but i’m sure it’ll fit!”

“should i ask shuhua for her input?”

“you can! her and i are similar in size so we can ask for her help too and i’m sure she’ll find something for you to borrow.”

you shift in your comfy chair, still uncomfortable. you’re not the kind of person to ask for anything. “are you sure? i think my dress would be fine.”

“trust me, it won’t be. and shuhua loves you and loves playing these kinds of games even more. she’d definitely say yes to helping.”

“if you say so.” you quip while leaning back, watching tzuyu pull up her other best friend’s contact, thumbs flying across the screen. a second passes before she whoops a little and shoves the phone in your face. you can see the clear—and predictable—dry text since she was at work and not with you guys: sure. i can give her the black one.

“do you know which black one she’s talking about?” tzuyu asks, brown eyes sparkling, unfairly dazzling under the muted fluorescent lights. “it’s this one i bought her. it’s a little tight and it has a sweetheart neckline. oh, t/n, you’re gonna look so hot.”

“i don’t need to look hot,” you retort, flustered, “it’s only—”

“dinner, i know.” she waves you off, texting again. “but trust me, you’re gonna want to make a good first impression. when is your date?”

you nick your eyebrow and your mouth winces at the word date, it sets an uneasy feeling in your stomach, a perverse malformation of what romance is supposed to be. “this friday.”

“perfect. i’ll come over with the dress and help you get ready. i’ll bring my makeup bag too, if you want?”

you blink at tzuyu, a flush rising beneath your cheeks. you don’t know how to say no. how to remind your friend that this isn’t a date but a transaction, and that there really shouldn’t be any excitement about this. however, before you can try, tzuyu grabs your hand again, grinning widely.

“this is gonna be so much fun!”

a week passes and friday rolls around frighteningly quick, giving you little to no reprieve or time to prepare, but tzuyu arrives just when she said she was going to. at 6:30 pm, right on the dot, smiling at your front door with a makeup bag in one hand and a garment bag in another. she waltzes in through the open door, gracefully, hair flaunting around, dressed like she was the one going out tonight.

she jostles the makeup bag on her shoulder. “where are we getting ready?”

you lead her to your room, crammed between her only bathroom and the small living room, directing her inside. tzuyu tosses the bag on your bed before walking towards the vanity and plopping down on the seat. she pulls the zipper of her pouch and starts pulling out miscellaneous products, an all-name brand: a small eyeshadow palette, a lipstick, bronzer. tom ford, chanel, MAC.

“so,” tzuyu says cherrily, hair up in a low ponytail swinging as she turns to look at you. “are you excited?”

“no.” the answer comes easier than you expected it to, especially out loud, but it’s true. you’re not excited, rather, you’re�� “i’m scared.”

“what? why?”

“i don’t know this woman.” you walk toward your bed, slumping on the corner, shying away from the dress like it can burn you. “i’ve only talked to her a few times. she’s older and she’s important and she’s rich and—”

“and?” tzuyu asks, swiveling towards her. “you’ve met my dad and brother. both of them are equally important and granted, one is an esteemed businessman while the other is a professional formula one driver.”

“that’s different tzu. i’m not trying to be your dad’s sugar baby.”

“i see your point, but—”

“this is serious.” you snap, nerves fried, as they have been since you agreed to go on the fucking date. since you also realized that you were so dead broke that you had no other choice but that. “i’m going out with a stranger for money. i have no idea what’s going to happen and i’m scared.”

“i’m sorry,” tzuyu says, sobered, all wry humor wiped off from her face. “i’m being an ass.”

you look at the lingering wall, muttering your forgiveness, embarrassed at the outburst, but your friend stands up and makes her way over to you. she’s grabbing your shoulders, looking at you seriously.

“do you want to cancel?”

“what?”

“do you want to cancel?” she repeats. “if you’re uncomfortable then you can cancel. there’s no shame in that.”

“i don’t…” you glance at your feet, eyeing the glossy hardwood floor below you. you’ve been needing to sweep up the place for quite some time, but since your mind has been caught up with other priorities that shifted away from simple house care—

“i can’t. i can’t afford to.”

“there’s always other ways to make money. you can ask—”

“i’m not asking mina,” you say firmly. “i’d rather sleep with jihyo than ask mina for anything.”

tzuyu smirks and takes a step back with her palms up, held open in surrender. “it’s a good thing it’s just dinner than, right?”

“yeah. just dinner,” you say. it’s as much as a reminder to yourself, and does little to calm your nerves. but it’s the truth, that’s the good thing about it. if she expected anything more, she would’ve mentioned it by now.

“okay,” tzuyu beams, hands on her hips, grinning again. “let’s help you get ready.”

your uber—graciously paid by tzuyu—drops you off at the four seasons at exactly 8 o’clock; just when jihyo said she’d be there.

you mumble a thank you to your driver as you step out, pulling your coat tighter around you. the dress beneath was black, the hem would just be a few inches above your knees, and tight. tiger than you thought it would be, but should’ve expected given who the owner is. you had always been slim, but your hips and breasts are—full, is a word for it. you’ve blossomed at seventeen and had a history of finding bras your size since then.

tzuyu and shuhua, both tall and rail-thin, built like haute couture models. thus, the lent dress give to you would fit more snugly on you than you initially hoped, pulling tight across your hips, pushing your brasts up farther than you’re comfortable with. you feel like you’ve been put out on display, and the thought follows you as you steps inside the ritzy hotel, bundling up in the pit of her stomach like a coil: a woman who’s owned.

you want to vomit on the gleaming marble.

the nice lady behind the front desk directs you to the restaurant after asking. when you walk away, you wonder if she can sens the anxiety and desperation wafting off of you, the fear. and if she did notice, what does she think? are girls in her situation common? do they all look the way that you do, with their cheap shoes and expensive dresses, hand-me-downs from nicer women? are they older? younger? you can’t fathom it. something being younger and doing this.

when you walk into the restaurant, a sharply-dressed hostess in all black greets you with a smile. “hello, ma’am. are you meeting someone?”

“yes, i have a reservation,” you say. it comes out in a breathless rush. “park jihyo. she said to come at 8. she might be here already?”

“let’s see.” she walks behind the podium and picks up an ipad, tapping it. she scrolls down, brows furrowing, before looking at you. “oh okay. i do see a park jihyo here but she hasn’t checked in yet.”

“oh,” you breathe, trying to ignore the rush of overwhelming relief. “can i…do i wait for her at the table?”

she offers a sympathetic frown. “unfortunately, i can’t sit you until i get proof of ID from the person who made the reservation. it’s to prevent people from stealing other people’s tables.”

“oh. um, do i leave?”

“you can sit at the bar if you want?” she says, gesturing towards it. “i’m sure you’ll be waiting for just a few minutes anyway.”

you nod and send a tight smile in thanks, walking towards the bar, angleed against the other side of the restaurant. like everything else in the hotel, it’s disgustingly opulent. the counters are a dark, shiny marble, as black as onyx. the tall stools have golden legs, the cushions soft and leathery when you move to sit atop it. a beautiful woman smiles at you while you settle in. to your relief, there are very few patrons around you.

“hi. can i get you anything?”

you consider it for a moment. drinking wasn’t the plan. and you were always a lightweight, and you don’t want anything in your system that could impede her decision making. but…

“a lemon drop, please?”

she nods and moves towards the drinks, mixing with a quick, effortless efficiency that fascinates you, as eager for distraction as you were right now. the martini finds it’s place down in front of you, and you smile, fiddling with the straw. “i was a bartender for a little bit, you know?”

“were you?”

“yeah. i switched to waitressing, though.”

“oh, really?” her eyes dart down to her fancy dress, alight with curiosity. you try not to blush. “you came here for a nice date then?”

“um—”

just then, an older woman sitting a few chairs down snaps at her, calling for her attention. she sends you an apologetic smile before stepping away. you sigh and take a bracing sip of your lemon drop, trying to pace yourself.

you don’t.

half an hour later, you’re still sitting at the bar, your second lemon drop in front of you, and more than a litte woozy. the bartender—seulgi, your new friend—stands on the other side of you, drying a crystal cup with a rag, as much of a cliche as she is.

“do you want me to call a taxi?” she asks, concerned.

“i think my friend irene would like you,” you say, sitting forward; her question doesn’t register. “she’s got black hair, and a bit shorter compared to you–” you’re holding your hand out and waving it around, slightly above your own head- “she’s really cute.”

“i’m glad you think so,” she says dryly. “i don’t recall asking for a matchmaker, but—”

“a lot of us don’t ask for a lot of things, but we get them anyway.”

“that’s a bit of striking honesty.”

“well.” you swivel in your chair a little bit, resentful. “my cousin always says that i’m a gloomy brat with a big mouth.”

“and does your cousin live here? can he or she pick you up?”

“no,” you pout. “she lives, like, two hours away. i came here for school.”

“okay, what about your friend irene? can she pick you up?”

“she’s probably sleeping or studying,” you say, wiving her off. a thought strikes you then, and you smile. “you wanna meet her, don’t you? i can give you her instagram.”

she drops her elbows onto the counter and states at you. finally, seulgi shrugs. “yeah, let me see.”

your smile widens and you reach for your coat, now rumpled from when you carelessly tossed it onto the chair next to you after getting overheated. you pull out your phone and quickly scroll through your messages. nothing from jihyo yet, but you expected that, having long since gotten the feeling that you’ve been stood up; not that you really mind. you mourn the money more than anything else. it’s why you haven’t left.

“here,” you say, once you switched to instagram. “this is her username, renebaebae. you should message her.”

“i might,” seulgi says, winking at you, before turning over her head. she straightens up, once again slipping into a professional veneer. “hi, welcome. can i get you anything?”

curious, you turn over, blinking when you notice a woman sitting just a chair away from you. she’s thrown her suit jacket off and has her sleeves rolled up. her eyes follow the length of her toned forearm, lingering on her silver rolex, before moving up again, from the broad stretch of her back to the locks of brown hair. you only stop when you notice that she’s caught you, brown eyes twinkling, the flash of them almost fox-like.

she has a whiskey in front of her. they’re alone. seulgi had journeyed down the other end of the bar.

“do you need something?” she asks.

“no.” you take another sip of your lemon drop, just to keep from looking at her.

she doesn’t offer the same courtesy. “are you drunk?”

“no,” you sputter. “obviously not.”

she hums, disbelievingly and glances at the chair between you, as if in silent permission. you dip your chin and she moves into it, throwing her jacket onto the counter. if you inhale, you can smell her perfume: a rich, dark scent that settles into the pit of your stomach, slow-moving and warm. rich. her watch gleams beneath the golden lights, like her shiny oxford heels and the cuff-links she carelessly tossed into her pocket. she must feel at home here in the grotesque palace of wealth. you wonder if she can smell the fraud wafting off of you, thick as the victoria’s secret perfume you spritzed on just hours before.

“are you on a date?”

“no.” a wave of defensiveness rises up, bolstered by resentment, and the alcohol does little to dampen its sting. “and you? why are you here?”

“i’m drinking,” she says, and takes another swig. your eyes flicker down to the line of her throat as she swallows. when you look back up, her lips quirk. “i had a meeting.”

“a meeting? at the four seasons?” she really is rich.

“no, a meeting at the new york-presbyterian hospital and then dinner at the four season. my co-workers are a bunch of old men who fall asleep at 9:30 so i decided to get drunk instead of joining them.”

“you’re a doctor?”

“trama surgeon. you?”

“waitress,” you say dimly, ignoring the flush that warms your cheeks. you hastily add, “and i go to school here. finishing up my undergrad, actually.”

“nice.”

you lean into your palm, staring at her. “you look very young to be a doctor.”

“so everybody keeps telling me.”

“how old are you?”

brown eyes cut to you, sharp like a knife and mirthful in a way you can only describe as mean. “are you sure you’re not on a date?”

your flush spreads, hot beneath your skin, and you look away from her, taking another swig of the martini. you caught her meaning and you’re not sure if you actually like it, if she’s making fun of you.

after a beat of tense silence, she sighs and shifts closer, pressing her wrist lightly against her own.

“twenty-nine,” she says, “and my name is minatozaki sana.”

roughly about seven or eight years, you think. not that old or too old for that matter. “my name is y/n.”

“y/n.” and you never knew your name could feel like a caress in someone else’s mouth, but it does. “it’s nice to meet you.”

“you too.”

seulgi passes by you again, getting another whiskey for sana and a third lemon drop for you. you can sense that she’s reluctant to give it to you, and you know that you should be mindful of how expensive this tab can be, but you don’t care. after today, with the stress and fear and the adrenaline constantly pumping in your veins, you’ve lost the ability to; you’re numb.

and so you ignore it. “wanna take shots with me?”

“you’re really trying to get drunk, aren’t you?”

“aren’t you?”

“it usually takes a bit more than two whiskeys and a shot to do me in.”

“so no?”

“how much have you racked up on this tab y/n?” sana asks, and you visibly stifle a wince. “three lemon drop martinis. that’s probably over a hundred fucking dollars, knowing this place. why the hell would you go to the four seasons to get drunk anyway?”

the tone is definitely something you don’t like, the patronizing color to it. it makes you reckless. “i was invited.”

“by who?”

“someone that isn’t here.”

“so you are on a date.”

“no.”

“then who invited you here?”

“someone.”

“a man? woman? probably someone your age.”

you huff a bitter laugh and take another sip of the martini. “not my age exactly.”

“so older.” it’s not a question but a statement, and she leans back in her stool, eyes flat. “not a date, but you—some random, pretty-grad student—were invited to the four seasons by someone older than you. i’m assuming or man or woman?”

“mhm, a woman.”

“can i ask you a personal question?”

“you already have been.”

“why did you agree to come?”

why else? you’re pondering. “money.”

she stares at you for a few seconds. you keep waiting for the disgust to bleed in, or the judgment, or—if worse really happens let alone the unthinkable—the excitement for your perceived vulnerable, but she gives you none of that. instead, she curses softly under her breath and sits up, carding a hand through her brown hair. “that sucks,” she says, looking at you. the intensity of her sympathy startles you. “i’m sorry.”

“i-it’s okay.”

“she’s terrible for doing that, what a piece of shit. it’s rare these days how women act like that. even crazier that some can’t find real love on their own so they look for it in people like you. the ones that can’t say no.”

“i don’t think she wants love from me.”

her mouth thins, fist clenching atop the counter. “you mean sex?”

your eyes widen. “no, not sex.”

“then what is it?”

“company,” you say. “dinner. sometimes they’ll pay you for it. it’s all over the internet.”

“yeah, said by fucking liars. what woman is signing up to be a sugar mommy so that she can take a girl that looks like you out for just fucking dinner? how does that make any sense?”

you’re squirming in your seat, nearly cringing at the discomfort. sana’s saying everything that you’ve been trying to ignore for a week straight, and suddenly, you hate yourself for thinking that you could be so naive. that you have the privilege to be, like tzuyu.

“i—”

“did you drive here?”

“what?”

she stands up, reaching for her suit jacket. a pang of mourning shoots through you when you realize that she’s leaving. “did you drive here?”

“no. my friend ordered an uber for me.”

sana nods and looks over to seulgi, gesturing for her to come over. she whispers something to her, a request to her tab, probably, before looking back down on you.

“what time was your date?”

“eight o’clock.”

“i think you’ve been stood up.”

“i know.”

she shrugs the jacket on, fiddling with the cufflinks. she looks disheveled, but in a way that seems purposeful. enticing. seulgi hands her a black booklet, and sana pulls her wallet out. you glance away form her, always awkward around money.

“you probably shouldn’t talk to this girl again.”

“wasn’t planning on it.”

“you should also delete the…app—? she raises an eyebrow at you. you nod—”that you met her on. shit’s already sketchy as it is.”

“i know.”

sana steps back, and you bite your tongue, just in case.

"it's nice to meet you, y/n. maybe i'll see you around?"

unlikely but you’re entertaining with the idea, dipping your chin an acknowledgement because you’re still too afraid to speak. she turns on her heel, and you watch her, eyes following her back until she’s disappeared from sight. you’re hitting the one eighty to face seulgi, only to falter when you notices the black booklet in front of you. “am i cut off?”

“yup,” seulgi says, a smile playing on her lips.

you brace yourself as you slowly open the bill, cringing away from it like it can hurt her. however, it’s not the sight of an exorbitant price that greets you, but a wad of cash; hundreds of dollars. more than that.

and a series of numbers are written on the receipt, with a note on the bottom, penned in a somewhat elegant writing that shows a sliver of sharp intelligence.

“for subjecting you to an interrogation when you were trying to get drunk. good luck with school.— sana.”

“she left me a hefty tip too. for both of you,” she says, smirking at you. “you must’ve made a very lasting impression.”

a close of the hand slams the booklet, and your eyes were unseeing.

five hundred dollars.

you’re counting five hundred dollars.

five hundred. now 480 from the twenty you forked over to your uber driver on the way home. but five hundred dollars, given to you by a veritable stranger, along with—

the receipt is in your handbag, not messing with the thought of throwing it away. if not for her company, then for her generosity. and you really should call her; to thank her, send the money back, ask why the hell would she bother throwing that much money away on a poor, drunk woman wallowing away at a bar. jesus christ almi—

the trill of your phone startles you, ducking your head while you’re scrambling to the couch to yank it from your purse. tzuyu’s smile flashes at you from the screen, and you sigh deeply before bringing the phone to your ear. “hello?”

“hello,” she says, voice pitched in a lilting sing-song. “‘i’m with shuhua and you’re on speaker. say hi.”

“hi, shua.”

“sup, y/n.”

tzuyu chimes again, “so, how was it?”

“uh,” you glance down at your handbag again, at the wad of cash sticking up from the top of it. your pulse jumps. “it went alright.”

“was jihyo as scary as you thought she would be?”

she, well- uh– she never showed up.”

“what!?” you scrunch up your shoulders at the screech. “what do you mean she never showed up?”

“i got stood up.”

“oh, beb. i’m so sorry.”

“it’s fine.”

“so it ended up being all for nothing?” shuhua asks, appalled. “you got all dressed up and went down to one of the most expensive hotels in the city for fucking nothing? you’re still broke?”

tzuyu shrieks again, this time shushing in scolding, but you huff a laugh instead of getting offended, still reeling in disbelief.

“not for nothing.” you mumble out. and the line stays quiet on their end. “what did you say, honey?”

“not for nothing.” you repeat, louder. “i…i met someone, and she…”

“and she what?”

saying it out loud wouldn’t make it make sense, but you force the words out in vain hope. “she gave me five hundred bucks.”

the other end went silent again, clearly digesting this, seeing what they can make from it. that is, until shuhua barks out a mean laugh and asks, “don’t tell me you got on your knees for her or something?”

“shua!”

“it’s an honest question! what kind of old, rich woman gives a girl money for free unless she’s actually interested in?”

“i didn’t—” the lump in your throat rises while the heat flushes your cheeks. “nothing happened between us. we just talked. and she isn’t old.”

“...is she cute?”

you’re thinking of sana’s strong side profile, rolled up sleeves, and the low registered tone along with the bite of her tongue. “yes.”

“so if nothing happened, why did she give you money?” shuhua asks.

“i don’t know,” you reply softly, pulling up your knees to hug them. “i think…she just felt bad for me.”

“felt bad for you? what makes you say that?”

“i told her why i was there, pretty much. she seemed bothered by it.”

“if god was a woman,” tzuyu says, a smile in her voice, and despite her generosity, you don’t even know if you’d consider sana your saving grace; there was an intensity to her, to her kindness that belied normal human decency. you can’t even tell if she’d do it for anyone else.

but if that were the case, why you the? what did you do to earn that kind of attention?

“well, i think there’s something else happening that y/n is telling us,” shuhua says bluntly. “i don’t see why she’d be that nice otherwise.”

tzuyu hums along in agreement, considering. “what do you think, y/n?”

“i don’t know either, if i knew exactly the i would’ve told you.”

“maybe it’d be worth taking into account asking her then? let your curiosity get the best of you.”

you’re reaching for your handbag, pulling the crumpled receipt from it, smoothing your thumb over the fine printed calligraphy of sana’s name.

“maybe i will.” you whisper.

later after the call, you text her while you’re tucking yourself into bed, hoping that it’ll be late enough that she won’t immediately respond. the nervousness and confusion rumbling in your head to even go forward into speaking to sana. you toss your phone on the nightstand and turn over, willing not-so-tired body to sleep.

the hope diminsieses very quickly. phone vibrating for a few seconds to make you jump up, reaching over. you’re tapping at the unsaved contact and click on the text, trembling. your own message flashes at you innocently, and you just want to throw your phone into the toilet or damn fire: hi! this is y/n. the girl you met at the bar tonight. do you remember?

sn:

hey. and yeah i do.

y/n:

cool! your thumbs hover over the touchscreen. unfortunately, i think you might’ve accidentally left something with me.

sn:

it wasn’t an accident.

y/n:

oh, you think, typing away. i’im so sorry, and thank you so much for your kindness, but i can’t accept that.

sn:

why not?

y/n:

it’s too much money and you’re a stranger. i can’t ask that of you.

sn:

you don’t owe me anything.

a second passes before she adds: can i call you?

your heart skyrockets up to the opening in your throat while your adrenaline spikes. for a moment, you want to say no. you don’t know if you can handle it, hearing her voice after she’s done you such unnecessary kindness. but it’s the thought that loops around and convinces you: sana gave you five hundred dollars. the least that you can do is have a damn conversation about it.

yes.

your phone rings just seconds after you’ve pressed send, and you take a deep, steadying breath, willing your heart to slow it’s pace. you pick up. “hello?”

“hey.”

the low timbre of her voice makes your breath hitch. she sounds like she’s been sleeping. like she woke up for you.

“you wanted to talk?”

“well, you did. mostly.” you can hear a slight rustling on the other line. her shuffling in bed. “you said something about owing me.”

“i can’t,” you say firmly. “i’d have to repay you, and as you can guess, i’m not made of money right now—”

“i didn’t give you that because i though you would owe me something. to be honest, i didn’t know if i had a chance in hell of seeing you again. i was trying to be nice.”

“and i appreciate it, but i can’t accept it. five hundred dollars is a lot of money, and—”

“i’m a surgeon.”

“which is how i know you’ve worked hard for it. i’m sorry, sana, but i can’t accept it.”

“does anyone do nice things for you?”

you blink, “what?”

“you just seem to have a hard time accepting kindness.”

“i…i don’t…”

“fine,” she huffs. “i’m not gonna force you to keep anything you can’t accept.”

“can i give it back to you?”

“i was thinking more along the lines of: you could toss the cash in a fire if you want it—”

“no,” you say, horrified. “i want to give it back to you.”

silence lingers on sana’s end. your pulse roars in your eardrums and your fingers are gripping the sheets. you have this distinct feeling that you’re dangling over the precipice, waiting for the ball to be dropped.

“how about you meet me for lunch?”

“huh?”

“lunch. tomorrow afternoon at 2.”

“i…um…”

“or i can give you my mailing address and you can ship it back to me. whatever you want.”

“are you asking me out?”

her voice comes in lower, barely over a rumble over the crack of the speakers. deliberate. “if you’re okay with it.”

you remember sana at the bar, under the dim golden lights. how she leaned into you when you spoke, how she listened, the geunine sympathy in her eyes when you told her why you were there. the way you mourned the loss of her when she left, with an intensity to it that startled you.

answering in a breathless rush. “lunch. i-i’d like to go to lunch. with you.”

“cool.” you can hear her smile. “i’ll text you tomorrow?”

“yes.”

“okay. see you then.”

“see you.” you whisper, and drop your phone once she hung up. about two seconds pass before you pick it up frantically, dialing shuhua’s number.

she sounds annoyed, plus a giggle is heard in the background. she and tzuyu were definitely hooking up. “what?!”

“shua! i need another one of your dresses!”

half an hour before your date, sana texts you: “there’s been an emergency at work. i got called in.”

you, on the other hand, was in the middle of drawing a very sharp wing, not caring for the falling eyeliner when you reach for you phone, frowning.

y/n:

huh!? what happened?

sn:

one of the other surgeons had a heart attack this morning so i had to fill in for him

it’s been a shitty day.

y/n:

i’m sorry :(

a fleeting attempt to stave off the wave of disappointment that threatens to consume you, feeling ridiculous for it. childish.

but it’s not so childish however, to keep you from typing, “will you have to cancel? :(“

sn:

for lunch, yeah. but i was thinking we can reschedule for dinner?

y/n:

will you be able to get out by then?

sn:

my supervisor said i can expect to be out by 6. i can pick you up at 8:30 if you want?

you press a finger to your lips, smothering a smile.

y/n:

i’d love that.

sana’s reply comes a second later.

sn:

i’ll see you then.

#hyunie #sana x reader #twice x reader #kpop x reader #kpop imagines #twice sana #sana #minatozaki sana #minatozaki sana x reader #twice x you #sana imagines #sana minatozaki #twice fluff #sana twice

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al1fers-haven · 1 month

Text

Almost Instinctual

Alastor x pregnant!reader

‼️pregnant reader, pregnancy in general, overprotective Alastor, a bit of angst, secret pregnancy‼️

Prompt: In where you, y/n, go to the Hazbin hotel for shelter after splitting up with your previous boyfriend. And try and keep your pregnancy a secret until you find a better solution.

Part 1 (you’re here!), part 2

(I am lazy and am writing this like it’s a bunch of facts and writing specific scenes…I might rewrite when I get my laptop.)

(8 weeks/2 months)

You and your boyfriend had split up about a week ago, afraid you’ll run out of money eventually you decided that instead of staying at a creepy motel with no locks, you’d move to a free-helpful option.

Of course you felt a little bad for abusing the owners kindness, using the Hazbin hotel not for redemption, but instead for shelter and food.

Charlie had welcomed you in with open arms (literally, she squeezed you pretty hard.) and even introduced you to everyone except for two who were out running around hell.

Alastor was explained to you as a creepy, tall deer man who may sound rude but has good intentions.

And Charlie explained angeldust as a ‘work in progress’ and told her a couple stories instead of describing him.

Charlie offered you the job of receptionist, claiming that husker wasn’t exactly good with the socializing aspect of it and you happily accepted. Eyes beaming at the opportunity for a job right infront of you.

(12 weeks/3 months)

You were happily greeted with nausea every morning. The morning sickness now starting to affect you more than ever, you haven’t exactly told anyone about your pregnancy and were hoping to be out of the hotel by the time you started showing.

Now working at the hotel for a bit, you noticed that probably wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.

“Are you alright y/n?” Charlie peaked her head into the bathroom; a small frown on her face as you heaved a bit, nodding.

“Yup- I’m just dandy..! Mind getting me a wet towel or something love? I think I ate something bad yesterday…” Charlie let out a little gasp and nodded, running off to god knows where just to get that little thing for you.

You had actually started to get to know the patrons of the hotel more, for example. You learned angeldust was actually the pornstar you had heard about all over social media. And he adored three things.

Making people uncomfortable.

Cocaine.

And candy crush.

Husk had given you a couple of sickness remedies, saying that they would help with stomach bugs. All natural just incase you were allergic and you slowly started to warm up to him.

Charlie and vaggie had grown to be very special to you now. Their opposite personalities absolutely making you giggle everytime you hung out with them or went out for groceries.

Now, Alastor was an odd fellow. He was a bit younger than you since you were hellbotn and all but he seemed to act older than you. Calling you things like ‘dear’, ‘Cher’, or Mon biche.

Mon biche was the most common one, and after looking it up. You realized he was calling you my doe, or just doe 90% of the time.

He definetly knew. Not letting you eat any form of ‘raw meat’ that would go on your plate and even specially making drinks for you so you felt like you could participate in drinking games without suspicion.

Overall, he was a total kitten. A bit emotionally stunted in areas of course..but he never failed to brighten the room.

(Unless he was threatening someone.)

(17 weeks/3.2 months)

You started showing, not visibly with clothing on but you were still showing when you sat down.

Your closet changed a bit, from nice outfits to usually a dress you had gotten or some high waisted sweats, trying to be as comfortable as possible in your state.

Alastor had been…odd.

He had started to let you grab his arm when going up or down the stairs, which usually during conversations he’d just stand at the bottom waiting. And he now seemed like he was constantly watching you.

Husker had done the same. The two animal demons in the hotel knowing because of a certain change in smell, it wasn’t like you didn’t know it was going to happen.

Husker had promoted for just leaving you alone and stopping the mean comments, understanding that pregnant women were a force to be reckoned with. (And you appreciated that. You had been crying earlier that day for the cookie you bought not tasting like blueberry’s.)

You cried a couple times because of angel, which Alastor just stared at you as you sniffled and attempted to keep the conversation going.

You also cried about 2 days ago because Charlie bought you a pretty necklace. It was hell.

Alastor tried to be accommodating in the field of emotional intelligence but…he failed. Making you cry more times than he could count and to be honest he only cared that he did because you were quite literally an angel to everyone.

Husker asked you in private one day if Mr smiles was the daddy to that little hellspawn and all you could do was laugh and blush a bit. Telling husker that he wasn’t and that he was just acting that way because she was a single mother.

Husker didn’t understand that, Alastor never had a soft spot for women her age.

(20 weeks/4 months)

First time you let anyone touch your stomach was during this time period, Alastor did so with adoration almost. Mentioning something about how he always had a soft spot for women with children..

You two had grown a bit closer.

Husker definitely still had his suspicions about you and the baby. He really thinks is alastors with the way he had been acting.

The red demon had gone out of his way several times to get you your weird ass cravings. One day you asked for a bite of his venison and then cried because you weren’t allowed to have it

You found him coming near you more often and asking multiple times to touch your baby bump as it grew, and everytime you let him that little tail of his would wag a bit behind him. Seemingly happy with the little life growing inside you.

He got more protective as well. Way more protective. He was your puppy that followed you around basically.

(He totally got you a bunch of ice cream, or helped you out with foods and sickness with his old man knowledge.)

(25 weeks/5 months)

If you wanna talk about awkward? Everyone in the hotel basically thought you and Alastor were a thing with how weird you two were together.

You would always be caught either straightening his bow tie or dusting off his shoulders. The term doting describing the two of you around one another.

May or may have not let it slip to Charlie that ‘it’s not like that, Alastor has said multiple times he doesn’t want to prey on pregnant women.

She asked to be the godmother.

Alastor hated the thought of that actually when you brought up that Charlie might be a good fit when he was giving you a snack. A nerve you didn’t know he had.

Soon everyone knew you were pregnant and angel was absolutely infatuated with this information. Asking who’s it is and stuff like that.

(7 months)

Alastor and you were practically a thing- he would help you out a lot and in return you’d kiss his cheek or help him out with cooking.

He practically worships the ground you walk on. Foot rubs for when they hurt, running a bath for you. Even going out of his way to compliment your outfits (even if you looked downright awful that day)

He even accompanied you to return the ring your ex gave you. Along with a couple other belongings you had from him.

Alastor may or may have not been seen with you outside , and you were mentioned by Rosie the next time.

(8 months)

Alastor and you had become somewhat official, if letting a dude fall asleep on your pregnant stomach bc he wanted to means official. Then yes( you were.

After you had a talk with Alastor about why he acted the way he did around you he simply said it was almost instinctual to take care of you. Something along the lines of him also being a gentleman.

He had invited you out to cannibal town, where you met Rosie and she was absolutely infatuated with you. Asking you questions and being so lovely towards you. Even going as far as mentioning she had her fair share of labor experience when it came to giving birth!

Alastor was very pleased to hear Rosie would help you- a bit scared she would eat the baby though…

(Part two coming out about nine months and the actual baby?)

#hazbin alastor #hazbin art #hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #pregnant reader #secret pregnancy #slow burn #soft alastor #deer man

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etherealising · 10 months

Text

chapter one | a berzatto family christmas

masterlist | next chapter ↣

pairing(s): carmen berzatto x fem!reader : platonic!michael berzatto x fem!reader : platonic!richie jerimovich x fem!reader

summary: you reunite with carmy years later at the berzatto family christmas party.

warnings: language (cursing), blasphemy, angst (maybe?), spoilers kinda (if you haven't seen season 2 don't read), the berzatto family, not dialogue heavy, very subtle hints to mikey being suicidal, probably ooc!characters, idk what else but if you find something let me know please! not beta’d and minimal editing so sorry for any mistakes. i also wrote this overstimulated on caffeine so if it doesn’t make sense or it’s repetitive then we know why : )

semantics: no use of Y/N: reader goes by the nickname Baby it has a backstory and its literally so simple, if this bothers you idk what to tell you, sorry : (

wc: 4.7k

You were standing on the sidewalk, nerves filling your body as you hyped yourself up to take the few steps left to the porch and ring the doorbell. You shouldn’t have been so nervous, you knew that but your mind was spinning with the myriad of scenarios both good and bad; that could play out once you stepped foot past the threshold. In all honesty, it wasn’t so much that you were nervous to enter the house itself, it was the fact that you’d be face to face with your childhood best friend for the first time in you didn’t even know how long. Maybe childhood best friend was a stretch you had only been introduced into each other's lives due to circumstance, and because of that forced proximity, you both took comfort in having someone stable around.

The two of you weren’t friends because you had chosen each other, or because you had met in kindergarten and shared toys in the sandbox because the other kids were stingy. No, you met because as a single mom, your mother needed all the shifts she could get even if that meant working the graveyard shift at the hospital, and only seeing you a handful of hours throughout the day because most times she was too dead on her feet to be conscious for more than a few hours. And when she could no longer pay the babysitter her next best option was the eccentric woman across the street who had children close in age with you.

Enter Donna Berzatto, a woman who came to feel like a second mom to you. It's not that she replaced your mom, no one could ever replace her, but she was the only real mother figure you knew for a time in your life. Who took you in as her own when your mother needed a new babysitter, and not just you but integrated your mom into the family as well, when she was spared the time off from nursing. Donna Berzatto who never sent you home empty-handed, and always made enough food for you and your mom to last throughout the week, just so your mother wouldn’t have to worry about fitting grocery shopping into her already hectic schedule. Donna Berzatto who, even when you were old enough to no longer need a babysitter, would send Carmy across the street to fetch you for family dinner, or even just invite you over because she thought you needed company.

Now that you were thinking about it, it seemed like you were more friends with his mom than you ever were with Carmen Berzatto. But then that would be a lie wouldn’t it?

You and Carmen Berzatto were friends due to circumstance, maybe even best friends. You weren’t just friends at his house, but you were school friends, you were everywhere friends. He really was your only true friend, of course, you had school friends, but that’s just what they were. You saw them Monday through Friday for a mandatory education, never an hour before school started or a minute after the final bell. Which didn’t necessarily bother you, but sometimes you longed for a weekend invitation to hang out, not that it ever came. And it wasn’t like you were shunned or unpopular in school, you were just average, you didn’t see a point in making friends with people you weren’t actually interested in befriending.

That’s what made Carmy so different, yes maybe you were only introduced due to circumstances but that didn’t stop the two of you from latching onto each other for dear life. Your mom always wondered how you two even established the friendship you did, with both of you being shy and never feeling the need to go out of your way to make friends. Include the fact that you had been neighbors practically your whole lives and never once taken an interest in each other aside from shy waves and curious childlike staring when either of you would be outside.

Your relationship with Carmen progressed as any childlike relationship would, you befriended each other, had your incessant petty arguments and fights, nothing ever serious enough to actually cause damage just childish antics. And it continued to progress through middle school and high school, the two of you were each other’s person, you just understood each other, the two of you let the other understand you, and wanted to be understood by each other.

You could also recall what you explain as a minute change in your friendship. As Senior year approached and you and Carmy continued to grow into yourselves, you developed a slight crush on the boy you had grown up with. It obviously wasn’t as small as you thought it was if you were standing in front of his childhood home giving yourself a pep talk just to ring the damn doorbell though was it?

The unsolicited card and wrapped present weighed heavy in your tote bag, as your breath was made visible by the chilly Chicago weather.

It was Christmas and for all intents and purposes you had been planning on mailing the present to Carmen’s New York address, but after visiting The Beef on your way back into town Mikey and Richie had let it slip that indeed the infamous Berzatto sibling would be gracing everyone with his presence this holiday season.

It was moments like these you wished you had picked up on the Berzatto family’s horrible smoking habit, thankfully your mom had taught you just how vital having functioning lungs was.

Your head shot up as the sound of loud rambunctious voices drew your attention to the front door opening and closing revealing a face you were all too familiar with and actually relieved to see. The oldest Berzatto brother stood on the porch, hands on his hips as he gave you a goofy smile. You could feel your lips stretching into a smile of your own, the infectious aura that Michael Berzatto exuded doing wonders to calm your racing mind.

“I know you didn’t come all this way just to stand outside staring at my family home like a fucking weirdo Baby.” Mikey’s smile grew in size as he teased you.

You rolled your eyes at the childhood nickname you wish hadn’t stuck as Mikey opened his arms to wrap you in one of his signature hugs. The two of you stood on the porch embracing each other for what felt like hours, you needed this hug as much as he needed it, you knew it and Mikey did too. That was the thing about you and Mikey although not blood-related it was as if your souls knew each other in a past life. Of the Berzatto siblings, Mikey was the last sibling you developed a relationship with. Growing up he was always just Carmy’s older brother but as you grew up surrounded by him, he became your surrogate older brother as well. And when Carmy dashed off to pursue his culinary dreams in New York, you and Mikey grew even closer.

You stepped back from the embrace, your eyes finding Mikey’s as he looked at you with a knowing glint in his eyes. “You not standing out here cause of a certain Chef in that house are ya?” Mikey asked, smirking down at you.

You chuckled “The only reason I come around anymore is for Mama Donna.” You joked doing a poor job to convince Mikey.

He nodded, tossing his head back with a laugh, “You were always a shit liar Baby. Carmy’s an idiot, don't let him ruin your Christmas.”

You let out a sigh head resting against Mikey’s chest as you tried to let his words soothe you even more, “He’s not ruining it, you just know things have been kind of stilted between us, and I don’t know this whole situation just feels awkward.”

You raised your head to look at Mikey again, “It’s awkward right? Am I making things awkward? I don’t wanna ruin Christmas Mikey, I know how your mom is and I know how Carmy is, I don’t wanna ambush him.”

The worry in your voice was evident as Mikey stood there listening to your ranting. His hand reached out as he used his thumb to massage away the frown between your eyebrows. “Calm down Baby, you know Ma is expecting you, and she wouldn’t take it well if you missed Christmas. She looks forward to seeing you every year, you give her a piece of Carmy when he can’t be fucking asked to come home and visit.” His hand moved down to cup the side of your neck rubbing soothing circles where his thumb rested, “Do it for Ma okay? Let Carmy be fucking wonder boy Carmy a’ight.”

You laughed nodding your head as best as you could with Mikey’s hand holding it, he smiled giving you one last hug before dropping his hand to grab your wrist and tug you into the house. You stopped him by placing a hand on his arm that was connected to yours.

“Hold on Mikey, I got you something.” You moved to start rummaging through your tote bag stalling because you were too nervous for his reaction to the present.

“Awe you didn’t have to get me nothing.” You turned back to him with the present in your hands as he held his own hands over his heart mockingly. You knew Mikey didn’t do well when it came to sentimental things and the best you would get out of him was a joke as opposed to anything else.

You laughed holding the rectangular wrapped present out to him, “I wanted to Mikey, don’t think of this as a gift, think of it uhh…as a show of appreciation yeah?” You nodded feeling your face heat up as you dropped your head so he couldn’t see how unsure you were about the gift.

He smiled, finding your shyness endearing before tearing into the neatly wrapped paper and revealing a frame, his hands engulfing it from end to end. He smiled looking at it before you saw confusion etch across his face, “This is great Baby, yeah but uh what the fuck am I looking at?”

You shove his shoulder before laughing at him and grabbing the frame out of his hands but holding it in front of your chest so he could still see its contents, “It's a trademark certification you dumbass, can’t you fucking read Mikey.” You joked to try and underestimate how big of a gift this was.

Mikey’s brows furrowed before he snatched the frame out of your hands to get a better look at the certificate sitting behind the glass, eyes snapping back up to your face with a look you couldn’t read. You shuffled your feet feeling like you overstepped a boundary you didn’t even know was between you and Mikey, “Don’t worry though I-I, put it in your name, it’s not like I trademarked it for myself or anything. I just know how much this means to you and I, I know shit has been tough lately and I’m sorry if you feel like I stepped on your toes but…Mikey, you deserve good things too okay?” You hadn’t meant to go on a rant, but you could feel the apprehension leaving you as you became passionate in every word you spoke.

“You deserve to be fucking happy Mikey, and I, I want you to know I fucking believe in you and I’m always in your corner. If it's-” You were cut off by Mikey clearing his throat, causing your eyes to snap back up to his, all the emotions he didn’t know how to translate into words swirling in his brown eyes, a small smile resting on his lips.

“Mikey-,” Before you could get another word out you were once again trapped in his comforting embrace, this hug conveying something completely different from the earlier one you shared. Mikey’s head tucked into your neck as you felt his uneasy breathing through your hands clutched around him. Mikey wasn’t the type to get emotional in front of other people, and feeling a tear of his smear against your cheek as he raised his head from your neck and settled his bearded cheek against yours, you weren’t sure if you had done the right thing by giving him the gift or not.

The two of you stood in silence as you allowed Mikey his moment, not wanting to make him feel insecure about you being present while he was being emotional. When he finally pulled away you could see the leftover sheen in his eyes. He tucked the framed certificate under his arm as both his hands reached up to grab your face in both of his hands, eyes finding yours, a whispered “thank you, baby,” leaving his lips as he placed a kiss on your forehead before he grabbed the frame again and wrapped you in another hug.

His head rested atop yours as your face rested against his chest, ear pressed against his beating heart. You lied, you thought the last hug was different, but no it was this hug that was different, while the second hug you shared in the span of 20 minutes was a hug of love and gratitude. This hug felt heavier, like there were things Mikey wanted to tell you but couldn’t, things he only felt he could convey through a hug, things you weren’t sure if you wanted to question or not.

It had been almost 20 minutes since Michael had escaped the house to do whatever the fuck it was he was doing outside. Carmy didn’t know and in all honesty he didn’t actually give a shit either, too busy helping Donna out in the kitchen to try to give any thoughts to whatever had grabbed Mikey’s attention.

He was focused in the corner of the kitchen making Tiff Sprite to help alleviate her nausea symptoms. Anyone else would have done their best to block out the rambunctious noises going on throughout the house, not Carmy though, the chaos fueled him, it grounded him. If the house was quiet it would have been too much for him, to be alone with his own thoughts ping-ponging around in his head, waiting for a chance to drown him. So if he had to listen to his mom list a plethora of things he needed to make sure happened for Christmas dinner to go off without a hitch while he was making Sprite from scratch, he welcomed it.

He finished his concoction just in time for Richie to walk through the kitchen, the older man trying to figure out how the fuck it was even possible to make Sprite from scratch. Gratefully taking the glass Carmy had offered to him, marveling at the carbonated drink in his hand.

Carmy nodded in his direction, “Yo Cousin, where the fuck is Mikey. He just fucking disappeared.” Carmy’s head swiveled around the kitchen double checking whether his brother was there or not, coming up empty in his search. Richie glanced up before settling his eyes back on the drink in his hand still doing the mental math to wrap his head around what the fuck Carmy just made.

Richie jutted his head in the direction of the front door, “Outside talking to Baby.” His eyes finally focused on Carmy’s in time to see the frown grace the younger man’s face, his eyebrows pinching together in agitation, annoyed that his brother was on a phone call rather than inside. Though that’s what Carmy told himself subconsciously he knew he was just annoyed at the fact that Mikey was even talking to you at all. Carmy didn’t think he was possessive but as you and Mikey grew closer through the years, he couldn’t help but feel miffed about the ever growing friendship between the two of you. You and your friendship with Carmy was the first thing in his life that he felt like was actually his and his alone.

It’s funny really for Carmy to think he has any sort of claim over you, or like the two of you were even really friends anymore. When he left Chicago to pursue his culinary dreams, he left you behind to, essentially ghosting the one real friend he did have. It’s not like he meant to, you two just went your separate ways after graduation, and he wasn’t even sure if there even was an “Us” when it came to the two of you anymore. If that was the case the only person he had to blame was himself, it was no fault of yours that your friendship had hit a plateau, Carmy hadn’t responded to a text of yours in years, and the fact that you still texted him to this day caused a slight pain in his chest as he stood in the middle of his mother’s kitchen, frown still etched into his features.

“He’s outside on the phone with Baby?” Carmy questioned the ache in his chest doing nothing to alleviate his irritation. It was Richie’s turn to frown reciprocating the same confused look Camry wore.

“What - No dickhead, he’s talking to Baby, like she’s right in fucking front of him and shit.” Richie swatted the side of Carmy’s head like a child. “Your moms invites her to every holiday, Cousin, and she comes every time.” Richie knew the last bit wasn’t necessary but felt Carmy rightfully deserved it, all anyone wanted from the youngest Berzatto was a visit.

“Dudes been out there for fucking ever though, those to idiots just standing outside like a bunch of fucking jackoffs.” Richie left the kitchen not waiting for Carmy to follow him before heading to the front door. He stopped moving the curtain on one of the side windows to spot two of the people he considered family. He let out a low whistle nudging Carmy’s shoulder who had finally joined his side nodding his head to the window.

“Get a load of these fucking losers hugging on the porch like they’re in some fucking Hallmark movie or some shit.” Richie laughed pointing at you and Mikey through the window. Carmy leaned closer to get a peak at what Richie was going on about.

Carmy hated to admit it, but Richie was right, the too of you looked like the happy couple who just saved a small town’s Christmas or whatever the fuck Hallmark movies were about. Mikey had finally separated himself from you long enough for Carmy to take in your features. He’d be lying if he said the years apart made him forget what you looked like. You were still the same girl he left in Chicago all those years ago except the wand of maturity had touched you, and in his opinion he thought you looked more beautiful than you had in high school.

Carmy was never one to pay too much attention to a woman’s features, and not because he didn’t care, it's just that he didn’t think it mattered. But as he drank in your form he learned in that exact moment why a woman might want people to notice the small things. Like the haircut you were sporting that Carmy felt shaped your face well, not that he knew shit about stuff like that, but he could appreciate art when he saw it. The outfit you picked out doing wonders to compliment your tall form and accentuate your legs. Carmy could look at you all day, scratch that he wanted to look at you all day.

He was torn from his reverie as Richie narrated the scene happening in front of them, “Aw look at these fuckers lookin all in love an shit.” He joked watching as Mikey slung his arm around you and led you towards the door, what looked to be a frame held in his other hand. The two of you walked side by side, your arm wrapped around his torso, hugging him into your side, Mikey’s head leaning slightly down to whisper something in your ear a small smile gracing your face as Mikey pressed his lips onto your temple lingering there for what Carmen swore was forever.

The tightness in his chest intensified tenfold as the realization of just how close you and Mikey had become sank into him. He didn’t know how to feel, his brain not even allowing any emotions to process, saving himself from any conclusions he might come to from a split second interaction.

Carmy left, he chose his path, he knew this, and he had no regrets he would pursue his dream every time the opportunity was presented. He just wished that, maybe if he held onto you as tightly as you still held onto him, it would’ve been him greeting you on the sidewalk on Christmas Day, being the sole object of your attention holding you close to his longing body. He knew overall the decisions he made regarding you were wrong, while he ignored your daily text and calls enough times for you to just resort to monthly check ins asking him about his endeavors and congratulations as you heard about his achievements in the culinary industry, he knew deep down that Mikey answered every text and call you sent his way, made it his mission to connect with you anytime you were back in Chicago.

Carmy couldn’t admit it to himself but deep down he knew his family saw spending time with you as a way to stay connected to him. You were the closest thing any of them still had to Carmy, and even though he had essentially cut you off from his life, his family loved you too much to allow Carmy’s shortcomings to affect their relationship with you.

He was broken from the recesses of his mind as Richie threw the door open stepping over the threshold raising his hands in the air to welcome you and Mikey into the house. The glass of Sprite still clutched in his left hand, a broad smile spread across his face as you left Mikey’s hold to greet Richie eyes not having spotted Carmy who was hidden behind Richie’s small frame.

Carmy’s first up close look at you in years were your hands wrapped around Richie’s torso as he pulled you into a hug, rocking the two of you back and forth, Richie let you go quickly turning his body back into the house “A’ight fuckers you can all stop pretending you care so much about Carmy and his little rat in the chef hat bullshit. We got the real deal here now, Baby's gracing us with her journalist presence.”

Carmy’s brows furrowed at Richie’s dig only slightly offended about being compared to a fictional character named after pasta, too caught up in allowing the sound of your laugh to grace his ears for the first time in what felt like forever. Mikey had finally caught up to you standing behind you with a hand placed on your shoulder, Carmy watched as his brother’s hand glided up and down your arm before giving your bicep a slight squeeze and nodding his head in Carmy’s direction.

If Carmy was being honest it was becoming increasingly difficult to quiet his mind that was eagerly trying to piece everything together. From yours and Mikey's prolonged moment on the porch, to the kiss he placed on your temple, add in Richie’s jokes and the almost constant physical contact between you and Mikey and Carmy was sure he figured shit out.

You looked to where Mikey motioned his head finally noticing Carmy’s figure standing there while Richie ran off towards the stairs after his impromptu introduction. Looking at Carmy was like being in a Time Machine, nothing had drastically changed, he looked more exhausted than what you remembered. But overall he was the same Carmy you parted ways with all those years ago.

A small smile graced your lips as you took him in, he was still your Carmy appearance wise, and right now for you that was all that mattered. You lifted your hand in a small wave gaining his attention, your smile growing wider as your eyes locked with his.

The clearing of a throat broke you from your thoughts, Mikey’s hand giving your shoulder a squeeze as he walked you two into the house before shutting the door behind him. As he finished he stood in front of you so that Carmy was partially covered from view by each brother in your line of vision though your focus was taken up by the eldest. He gave you a reassuring smile before gently knocking his fist against your chin and presumably turning to leave you and Carmy alone.

As Mikey walked past Carmy he gave him his signature grin and a wink before patting his shoulder as left to check on Donna in the kitchen and mingle with the other guests.

Carmy’s face was still set in the same frown it had been in when he first asked Richie where Mikey ran off to. You took a deep breath to settle your nerves before taking a step to close the gap between you, your hand reached out to gently squeeze Carmy’s arm though stopping in midair as you watched him subtly flinch. Your smile faltered, your hand finding its rightful place at your side. You looked up to see the apology in Carmy’s eyes, you did your best to brush the moment off, maybe you came on too strong, maybe it wasn’t fair that you were still pushing for a friendship when Carmy had given you all the reasons to stop trying, maybe the Carmy in front of you was a different Carmy to the one you used to know. Maybe the life where it was you and Carmy had finally taken its last breath and you were just too clingy and desperate to realize.

You cleared your throat trying to alleviate the lump forming from the thoughts that were racing through your brain. The small placating smile on your face there to stop you from having a full breakdown in the Berzatto’s foyer. “Its good to see you Carmen, I hope New York is treating you well.” You lips wrapped around the generic greeting forcing yourself not to say anything you might regret.

Carmy nodded his head rapidly accepting your lackluster words, his lips parting and closing all in the same breath. The man obviously had nothing to say to you, and maybe you just had to accept that. You stayed a moment longer cursing yourself for doing so as the air between you two filled with palpable tension.

“Baby, is that you? My goodness you look fucking gorgeous.” Half of Donna’s body had popped out of the kitchen finally gaining a spare moment to greet you. Her words mumbled through the cigarette between her lips, a ladle held in her right hand while the left was occupied by tongs. Her apron covered in all sorts of sauces and whatever the hell else your brain couldn’t even begin to discern.

You laughed half in amusement and half in relief, you weren’t sure how much longer you could stand there as Carmy burned holes in your body. You waved at Donna quickly, beginning to head towards her to join her in the kitchen. It wasn’t your first choice as an escape from Carmen but you’d rather try and help Donna finish preparing Christmas dinner than be around Carmy for another minute.

Donna waved the tongs in Carmy’s direction, “Jesus fucking Christ Carmen, take the girls bag and coat. Don’t just fuckin stand there.” She huffed eyes glaring the longer Carmen stayed glued to the spot. You handed him your tote as soon as his arm shot out and began hastily shimmying out of your jacket. You gave him a soft smile before laying the jacket on his awaiting arm.

You began to leave the foyer as Donna motioned for you to follow her, mentally preparing yourself for what you were about to walk into. A sudden thought occurred causing you to gently grip Carmy’s bicep as you were walking past him, “I uh, I actually bought you a Christmas present. So um, find me later yeah?” You smiled tilting your head slightly in questioning.

Carmen Berzatto graced you with a small smile, nodding back in agreement as you sent him one final nod and turned to enter the kitchen. The first positive emotion he granted you since you walked back into his life 30 minutes ago.

next chapter ↣

a/n: this is my first fic that i’m publishing and i genuinely have no clue what the fuck any of this is, : ) but nonetheless hope you all enjoy! or don’t i’m just a stranger on the internet. constructive criticism would be greatly appreciated though. please like, comment, reblog if this behemoth tickles your fancy!

also i write for fun/hobby and i'm such an inconsistent bitch so don't get your hopes too high, but this will potentially be a series idk yet though lol.

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #the bear fic #michael berzatto #richie jerimovich #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto angst #platonic!michael berzatto #all i ever knew only you ₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊#[aiekoy] 1

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absolutebl · 4 months

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Best 23 of BL 2023 - Quirky Awards

SHOCK & AWE AWARDS

1. Biggest BL surprise of 2023:

The last 3 months of 2023 in general got my biggest WTF award.

GMMTV fielding OffGun AND TayNew in the same quarter while also airing Last Twilight (arguably one of their best BLs ever)

That they ALSO optioned 3 JBLs

That there's a high heat omegaverse BL staring Pavel

That there were 20 BLs airing and none of them Korean.

With 5 VAMPIRE BLs announced for next year

But my prize in this category goes to My Dear Gangster Oppa.

It's just crazy:

Thai talent, Korean money + IP (this is adapted from a manwha) airing on a Chinese channel (iQIYI). Plus it was GOOD and made smart reuse of a pair who richly deserved it. I'm delighted by the eclectic insanity of this production. And wonder if any other film genre could even do anything like this.

2. The “that country did WHAT?” award:

The 8th Sense from Korea?!

I mean, seriously?! Dealing with metal health, suicide, darkness, therapy, age gap, & first time love BUT FROM KOREA? And then openness and casual boyfriend physical affection? What's next? An actual hard fought coming out narrative with an HEA? Gay domesticity and families?

Careful Korea, you'll strain something. Possibly your own culture and film industry.

I should stop having expectations of Korea, they keep surprising me.

Runners up: Korea letting OnlyOneOf do Bump Up Business not to mention that OmegaX thing. AND Korea adapting Why R U? What are you up to, Korea? Qua? Is this a coded message? Should we send help? Do you need snacks?

3. Biggest casting whoa! where did you come from? award:

GeminiFourth in My School President.

Seriously? Babies what? How did GMMTV find you? How do you exist? How is BL this lucky?

4. That studio did WHAT now? award:

GMMTV putting EarthMix into Moonlight Chicken.

And then doubling down with G4 as the damn sides.

Fucking genius.

5. I’m sad you were ignored award:

Destiny Seeker.

It's just a really fun little Thai pulp, the pairs were good, silly dialogue, plus consent and other good rep. I enjoyed it. No one talked about it AT ALL.

6. 2023 BL That Actually Made Me Lose My Mind Award?

Laws of Attraction. -The casting, the crazy story, the soapy drama! But specifically: Film playing Charn - the range of his smiles alone. GLORIOUS

I mean I Feel You Linger in the Air also sparked something in me, but LoA drove me actually nuts.

NARRATIVE AWARDS

7. Best story 2023:

La Pluie

I know, you're surprised, right? At the time I didn't chat much about it but I really enjoyed the discourse others were having. I love anything that really examines the fated mates (soulmates) trope and the idea of "the one". What a clever way to do that. (This is one reason UWMA is my favorite Thai BL.)

This one reminded me of the way Color Rush approached allegory and that's no bad thing. Such an impressive little piece.

8. Best narrative structure 2023 award:

Unintentional Love Story.

I know this may seem a simplistic pick. But I love the tidiness of this no frills contemporary romance, how the culture of work and personal ethics and corruption fight against the main character's affection and integrity. Poor baby boy is driven into a corner and then punished for it. But it is punishment he feels he deserves, and so it is up to his (now) ex to figure out what went wrong and why.

It's just great. I love it when no one is stupid or wrong, it's just impossible circumstances and unintentional love deeply felt.

9. Best 2023 dialogue (script) award:

Jun & Jun

Never before has Korea laced a BL with that much perfectly executed innuendo. It was a master class. I didn't know you could be that lascivious in Korean, quite frankly. Plus the way the 2 Juns constantly seamlessly transition between formal register (work, public - where they are boss/employee) to informal register (when they are alone and age mates + childhood sweethearts).

Beautiful to hear and watch.

10. Favorite scene 2023:

The dub con scene in I Cannot Reach You because I AM TRASH for an out of control seme. I'm sorry I just AM.

I have said it before, I will say it again, NO ONE DOES THIRST like Japan. And when that thirst bubbles over, it is heart-clenching and very hot.

11. The most rewatchable BL of 2023 award:

Our Dating Sim

That scene where they lie on the floor + the stolen kiss + giggle? Come on, it should be on comfort repeat in war rooms. It could bring world peace.

ACTORS & CHARACTERS AWARDS

12. Best performance of a queer actor in a leading role, 2023:

Fluke in Make a Wish.

It was fun to see him as an irreverent immortal and while I love OhmFluke I also really enjoyed this new pairing. It was a genuine pleasure to watch.

13. Best pining 2023:

The moot pining in Tokyo in April is...

Boys, seriously? Japan must you destroy us like this? Hurts so good.

14. Best wingman 2023 (The Namgoong Award)

Tiw from My School President

I mean, come on, of course it's him!

(Also can you believe Mark went on from this to do fricking Only Friends!? To Last Twilight! Come on GMMTV GIVE HIM A LEAD!)

15. Biggest OMG I LOVE you boys together, YAY!

Dimpled McMafia & Feral Bunny Foo Foo from Kiseki Dear to Me.

They were feral for each other.

We were feral for them

It was a whole delightful THING.

16. Most unexpected return of a BL pair? award:

The Private Lessons pair showing up in Love Class 2.

I know it was only a cameo, but SERIOUSLY? Thank you SO MUCH Korea! A big studio picking up a Strongberry pairing? I love you.

Seriously tho between them, Taiwan & Korea tried for ALL THE CAMEOS this year.

17. Well aren't you two just the prettiest? award:

NetJames in Bed Friend.

Need I say more?

18. LIFETIME ACHIEVEMENT AWARD

Bah Vinh in Vian & Mr Cinderella 2. I did like either show but I loved him in them. Especially the make outs.

Yes you have chemistry with all the boys in Vietnam and you kiss beautifully. But it's okay now honey, you have the crown. Relax, you're stressing us out.

RANDOM PICKS

19. Favorite Linguistic Moment of 2023:

Our Dating Sim

Caught in the act by the elevator scene. OMG it's so funny. They're being such boyfriend shits to each other, and to be caught in the act by THAT character, and try to manifest formal language whole cloth? Hilarious.

Honorable mention to War Peanuts in Destiny Seeker.

20. Biggest disappointment of 2023:

You Are Mine

Seriously Taiwan, AGAIN you disappoint me with an Office BL? You're Taiwan, land of offices and suits. This should be YOUR SETTING TO WIN. And yet... argh. I mean it wasn't bad. But it wasn't good either. Stop it Taiwan, do better.

Runners up? Between Us, Chains of Heart, Dangerous Romance - this was a HOTLY contested category.

+ 2 Winners in the sub-category of FUCK YOU FOR THAT ENDING award:

The Director who Buys Me Dinner - I mean this nicely but: you have your lane now Korea, stop hurting us, that's Japan's responsibility and they do it better.

I Feel You Linger In the Air - I'm just hugely disappointed. Thailand ALMOST got its second 10/10 from me, but that damn ending.

Argh.

21. Best Wardrobe/Prop Use 2023

The shower of packaged bedsheets in My Personal Weatherman

Amazing. Brilliant. No notes.

22. Best Queer Rep 2023

Chot in Step By Step

In fact, all the queer characters in this show were treated with great integrity.

AND props to this cast for refusing to do fan service. GOOD FOR YOU! Fuck those sasang wankers.

Runners up? The found family cast of Love in Translation and the Rainbow Rice Cakes in The New Employee.

23. Best Meta Trope call out

Tin Tem Jai

Come on, what a zinger, but at themselves (and Taiwan)

Final question: which of the 23 was the hardest for me to pick?

Honestly? Question #1 this year. But also question #20.

(Last year: 2022's Version)

Remember I only pull from shows that were completely finished by the end of 2023. Or The Sign probably would have taken multiple categories. But it will fall into 2024 offerings.

(source)

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moralesmilesanhour · 10 months

Note

Hello!!! How are you? I’ve been a follower for the past few days and was wondering if I could request something.

I was hoping to request a fic or like give you a prompt for something for miles42 × femreader

So it goes like this- yk those super corny reads that are like the reader's pinning for miles and like sometimes miles finds them annoying but in a cute way but he don't know that her yk? So he's talking to his homeboys about her, talm about some how she's so "annoying, a nuisance" and guess who's behind the wall listening? The reader herself.

So this goes one of two ways- she either matches up there, confronts him. And she's like "flipping fine, if that's how you feel then lemme get out of ur way- you won't hear a peep from me" and she like just ignores him and he learns how he feels about her, sees how his life is so boring without her and all that- goes to apologize happy ending..

Option number 2: silent treatment. Like just slowly drifting away until he once again comes to the realization that he needs her and all that happy ending yay!

Feel free to do whatever you want with this but I'm thinking of sending the same request to other authors to see what they come up with cause everyone has a style k? And i just love studying them and reading them cause evervtime- no matter how similar the prompt is- they always manage to invoke different feelings with in me.

Anyway- have fun doing this- but remember you don't have to cause this is kinda too much and I'm sorry😓

"I want my pen back."

wc: >1,200 A/N: okay so i got a bit carried away...this is a long one. (yes I am using this as an excuse to try out the gradient thing) thank you anon for this fun request! i also rlly like ur reasoning behind it and i hope i was able to do this prompt some type of justice lol

The gel pen clattered to the ground.

“I got it,” you said, grinning at Miles. You squat to grab it before the boy can act to get it himself, and he sighs as you hand it to him.

“Thanks.”

Miles turned the pen every which way between his fingers.

You had gifted it to him on the first day of school, with that same expectant grin. The little cartoon dogs that surrounded the perimeter had begun to fade with use because – admittedly – it had actually turned out to be a good ass pen.

He’d thought initially that you were just being nice; maybe you were handing shit out to everyone because it was the first day, understandable.

But then, it was highlighters (the erasable ones).

Pink sticky-notes on his locker, telling him to have a nice day with the ‘i’s dotted with hearts.

A new sketchbook for Secret Santa.

Miles’ pencil case had rapidly gotten bulkier, and when you rushed to grab a seat next to him during the one class without assigned seats, it finally clicked.

You were trying to get his attention. And he wasn’t sure what would happen if you got it.

“I like the new braids.”

He was snapped out of his thoughts, and turned to you.

“Huh?”

“The braids,” you laughed. “I like the pattern. Who did ‘em for you?”

A tiny smirk ghosted the boy’s lips.

“My mom. Just like the last time you asked me.”

He ran a hand instinctively over the meandering zig-zag pattern that his cornrows had been sectioned into. Miles looked at you from his periphery; you were still staring.

“Bitch, just ask him out already!”

Your friend smacked the back of your shoulder as the two of you took your sweet time getting back to your lockers.

“Alright, today, I swear,” you said, hand over your heart for emphasis.

A beat of silence passes. “But what if he says no?”

She groaned.

“Then he says no, and you can save your money. But say something, it’s getting embarrassing.”

Your friends’ encouragement landed you here, around the corner of a building where Miles and a gaggle of other boys from your homeroom were bursting into raucous laughter.

“Yo, why you ain’t bag her yet? She wants you bad,” one boy said.

Unsure if the ‘she’ in question was you, you stay where you are and keep listening.

“I dunno, she kinda annoying,”

Miles’ low voice makes your ears perk up.

“One day she gon’ run outta things to say about my hair, she has to!”

…Oh.

The buoyant feeling in your chest sinks as the group erupts into another laughing fit. If you asked him out now, you’d hear about it for the rest of the year.

Shoving your phone into your pocket, you turn back the way you came.

Miles knew something was off when you sat down the next morning without a word.

“You good?” he asked.

You glanced at him, then nodded before going back to playing with the beads in your hair. The excruciating silence stretched on for almost the entirety of class before it was broken again.

“Do you…wanna help me with my homework? I’ll really let you, this time.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Morales, you got an ‘A’ in every class.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Your name’s on every bulletin board.”

“Damn,” the boy muttered to himself as his leg bounced under the desk.

Your beads clattered against your back as you rose from your seat. The bell had rung, finally. You didn’t even say ‘bye’.

Miles cracked open his locker. One of your sticky notes from last week had begun to un-stick and fluttered to the ground. There were no new ones. He bent to pick it up, noticing how neat and round your handwriting was on these compared to the way you wrote in class. The letters didn’t run together, like you were in a rush.

Neatly folding the note and sticking it in his pocket, Miles shut his locker to reveal your face. The boy nearly yelped in surprise.

“Where the hell did you come from? Scared the shit outta me,” he said with a grin.

“I want my pen back.”

Miles froze.

“Which pen?”

You tilted your chin up towards the one he was currently gripping in his left hand. He looked down at it like a wad of cash.

“Oh.”

He couldn’t just not give the pen back to you…

…but he didn’t want to give it to you, either.

“What you need it for? Don’t you have, like, a whole store full of these?”

“Miles, I gotta get to class. I’m not playing,” you reached for Miles’ hand, but he raised it high above his head.

Instead of a smirk or mocking sneer, something like worry was etched onto the boy’s features.

“Tell me what’s up witchu first.”

“What are you talking about? I’m about to be late, c’mon.”

“You ain’t said a word to me all day,” he dropped his hand momentarily. “Are you sick? Did I do something? What–hey!”

You had snatched the pen out of the boy’s hand when he wasn’t looking, throwing it into your bag.

“I thought that’s what you wanted.”

You turn to retreat down the hallway, but stop with a huff when Miles calls after you.

“Wait!”

“I’m waiting.”

“Come see me after school?”

You kicked an empty can down the sidewalk in front of Miles’ apartment.

“Make this quick, I gotta go study.”

He looks everywhere else to avoid meeting your eyes, looking for the right words.

“You didn’t answer me earlier,” Miles awkwardly shuffled his feet. “Are you mad at me?”

“...Yeah, kinda.”

“For what?”

You stop to think for a moment, crossing your arms.

“For…for letting me hand you that pen, knowing you weren’t gonna give it back,” you began.

Miles’ brows furrowed in confusion. “That’s it?”

You shook your head profusely, “N-no, I’m not done. You let me buy you all that stuff, put all that dumb shit in your locker, whole time you don’t even like me–”

“You don’t know that,” Miles interrupted. Your head snapped up to look at him, and you paused.

“I don’t?”

Neither of you say anything for a moment, then Miles remembers the note in his pocket. He takes it out and shows it to you.

“These? Are cute as fuck,”

He searches for more words, ten continues, "A-and I use that sketchbook every day. That pen? It’s like, my favorite,” he laughs. “I got half a mind to steal it back from you.”

Miles watches you expectantly. Your arms are still crossed, but the corners of your lips quirk up in amusement.

“So you like getting free stuff.”

“No-! I…”

The boy’s arms had begun to flail around in frustration. You hold back a giggle, never having seen him squirm like this before. It’s a nice change of pace.

“Alright, listen. I like hearing you talk to me every morning, and…”

He trailed off. He had begun slightly bouncing on his toes.

“...I like you.”

At some point while watching Miles struggle to explain himself, the float-y feeling in your chest had come back. You tilted your head to the side, and smiled.

“Okay. What are you gonna do about it?”

The boy’s eyes lit up.

“Where do you wanna go?”

#earth 42 miles morales #miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales x black!reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #across the spider verse spoilers #moralesanhour #requests

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flowershines · 3 months

Note

Hellooooo, Can i request en- x idol!reader when he gets needy backstage on awards or sum? Just if u want ofc 💞

yesss ofc, thank you sm for requesting something!! 🫶

Warnings: Smut, hickeys, dirty talk, blowjob, no actual real sex, handjob, mentions of cumming in pants (if want part 2 lmk, i can add on into sex too)

Not proof read

Heeseung:

Walking off the stage from performing your most recent album for the idols who sat in front of you and your members, the crowd around you clapped while you all walked backstage. You walked into your dressing room and was met by multiple staff members who were going to be helping you get unready, a knock was heard from the door of your dressing room the staff that waited by the door looked at you as you nodded allowing whoever was at the door to come in. Opening the door the staff moved to the side as a member from another group and secretly your boyfriend, you ushered the staff into another one of your members rooms telling them that ‘i’m okay i can finish getting unready myself, why don’t you guys go help the other members?’ they all accepted your request and headed out of the room leaving Heeseung waiting by the door. He shut the door behind him “You looked so gorgeous on that stage, i couldn’t keep my eyes off of you.” he said as he walked over to you and started kissing down your neck “Looked so fucking sexy.” his words kept muffling “I could not take my eyes off of the way your hips moved.” pressing up against you, you tumbled back he pushed you against an open wall giving him a better canvas to work on. The kisses on your neck was long and he spent a lot of time on them, it scared you because you didn’t want to walk out of the room with a trail of hickeys trailing down your throat. “Hee, please not here.” Your worded were ignored by him “Need you so bad, it hurts.” you pushed him off of your body and switched spots with him so you pushed him up against the wall, “Let me help you.” you started to untuck his shirt from his pants. Your fingers worked their way to his belt while you kissed down his body even over his clothes, his hands made their way to your head as they played with hair swirling at the ends of the strands. Working your way down to your knees you pulled down the zipper that was just inches away from the thing you craved the most, his breathing started to get heavier and heavier the more you avoided his cock. “Doing so good for me, fuck i’m so glad that your my girl.”

Jay:

Sitting in your seat you feel a kick on your leg only to turn around and face your boyfriend as he was giving you a smirk, he placed a note in your stockings then leaned back. The chairs were close to one another so neither of you had to worry about things seeming suspicious, it would just looked like he dropped something then picked it back up. Putting your leg with the note over your other leg you pulled out the note and hid it under your dress as you hiked up your dress a bit to see what the note wrote, ‘meet me in the bathrooms in 10’ looking over your shoulder once more his figure was long gone. Checking your watch constantly these minutes could not take any longer to pass you felt like you were sitting there for years, feeling too ambitious the clock read how there was 4 more minutes till it had been 10 minutes but you figured it wouldn’t matter and you just wanted to see him so bad. As you walked to the bathrooms speed walking was the only option because walking to slow would only torture you and running would for sure cause someone to realize stuff, reaching the bathroom you knocked on the door as you looked around for anyone in site but as you looked around your arm was being pulled into the bathroom right in front of the man as he turned around and shut the door behind you. “Your dress is driving me insane the way it doesn’t try to hide your figure.” He placed his lips on yours as he mumbled against your lips “Did you pick out the dress or the stylist, because whoever did i apologize for what is going to happen to the dress.” you looked at his with pleading eyes “But i like this dress, don’t you?” he nodded “That’s the bad thing I just wanna rip it off your body.” you brung your hands to the collar of his neck as your fingers played with the lacing of the tie he wore, “Won’t your members wonder why you have been gone for so long?” you asked him as you realize he has been gone for a good 15 minutes. “You act like they don’t hear you screaming my name every night, i hate to break it to you but I think they know.” He stated all sarcastically, you brought your hands to his buckle sinking down to your knees you continued your actions “Princess.. keep looking at me.” he brought his fingers to your chin forcing you to look up at him as you unzipped his pants bringing them just a bit above his knees, you rubbed his clothes cock over the fabric causing him to grunt from the sudden contact. “That’s my girl, move your hand.” His head was thrown back while some of his hair started to stick to his forehead, “Such a pretty girl.” he said finally looking back at your figure as his finger ran over your lips. “Can I?” Putting your fingers on the waistband of his boxers after a second you added on to your comment “Please?” his thumb ran alone the sides of your cheek “You look so gorgeous when you beg.”

Jake:

Jake was always a horny menace, even after he just performed for a crowd of people. The producers had you all sit and wait till every last group was in the crowd making it easier to just call their group name up, after a while of watching and clapping getting annoying ‘most interactive idol’ the second left like minutes. You just wanted to be laying in bed with your boyfriend but after this you can sleep so that was a plus and honestly it was the thing you were looking forward to the most- your train of thought was cut off by your name being called ‘Y/n’ clapping was heard from around you while turning your head to your boyfriend he was clapping so hard his hands could’ve fallen off. Walking up to the stage you shook hands with the person who read the card for the award but out of respect you quickly said a few words knowing your fans were watching at home then walked back to your previous seat, turning your head towards your man he was giving you two thumbs up not long after his group went up for the award of ‘future of k-pop’ you gave him the same energy he gave you as you cheered for him being the loudest person in the whole crowd. As they walked back stage your eyes followed him as he ushered you looking into your eyes then moving his index finger in a ‘come here’ motion while he walked shins the curtains, getting up from your seat you walked over to the doors which lead backstage. Walking in you see one of Jake’s members as he noticed your presence he pointed to one of the dressing rooms, you nodded to him and said ‘thank you’ as you walked to the door he told you. Knocking on the door you were met face to face with your boyfriend noticing it was you at the door he quickly pulled you into the room with him, his lips were immediately placed into yours you could feel the desperation behind his lips. The way his hands roamed around your body was all you needed to know, he was horny. He was always more touchy than ever when he gets horny, “Baby you looked sexy up there, made me pop a boner in my seat.” he grabbed your hand and placing it on his aching bulge “See.” he said before he kissed down your collarbone “Jake we gotta wait till we get home.” he rolled his eyes “But baby, i can make both of us cum fast and it will be a good time. Please, please please…” his ‘please’s continued till you finally gave in as you started to rub his cock i’ve this pants. “I love you so much you know that.”

Sunghoon:

Sunghoon’s hand ran along his bulge as he watched you perform on stage, some of his members noticed yet they didn’t want to say anything to make the situation more awkward and uncomfortable. Running his fingers along his tip he had to pull his hand away as he felt his climax already starting to come closer and closer, he watched your out of breath state and watched the way your hair would stick to your forehead from the heat of your dress, dancing, being in a hot room and more. You made direct eye contact with him as you sang your part in your groups most recent comeback song, he swore he could’ve came on the spot as you looked at him. Getting up from his spot he headed immediately towards the bathroom not wanting anyone else who has already seen his growing hard on to see more, quickly walking to the bathroom and into one of the stalls looking down he noticed a stain of pre cum becoming darker and darker the more he waited. Seconds passed by and his dick felt like if it was going to bulge anymore it was going to explode, a knock was heard from the door which was weird because it was a bathroom that contained stalls getting up and opening the door he was faced to see your sweaty state in comfy clothes. “You okay I saw you walk out and I got worried.” He nodded as opened the door wider as a way to usher you inside the bathroom with him, “What happened? Did you just have to use the bathroom?” he shook his head as he fiddled with his fingers while looking down “Tell me, hopefully i can help.” you said as you walked closer to him wanting to feel his temperature but he walked backwards when you walked to him. You stopped in your tracks not wanting to cross a boundary “I was watching you and..” his words came out as a stuttering mess, “and what?” he continued to look down as he could not make eye contact with you “Got hard.” he whispered. You heard him say it even though his words were barely spoken, you walked closer to him as you picked his head up and kissed him on the lips. “It’s okay, would you like me to help you?”

Sunoo:

His attention was not leaving your side even when you weren’t performing his attention was still on you, walking up to the stage was the only time his eyes left your figure but when he got onto the stage he was immediately met by your gaze staring back at him. The feeling in his stomach only worsened the more he danced to the choreography he felt his cock stir in his pants ‘not now’ was all that repeated in his head, the members started to notice his body’s reaction to the rhythm of the music and questioned if he was okay. At one point during the end of the song Jake turned to him with a questioned look then returned his gaze back to the crowd once he realized that what state he was in as he looked down and gave him a body scan, as the song came to an end he quickly walked off the stage not wanting to bring attention to himself. A hand grabbed at his wrist behind the curtain as his members passed the mysterious figure holding onto him, it was you. He was relieved to realized that it was you here to help calm him down while he was struggling to hide the growing boner in his pants as it kept stirring in his pants from the loss of your touch, “You did so good.” you kissed his cheek as you trailed kisses from his kisses from his cheek to the end of his jawline. Whispering in his ear “Oh.. How can I forget to mention.. This.” you said as you grabbed onto his cock as you gave him a couple of strokes through his pants his whole face started to turn red from embarrassment “Was it really taht noticeable?” he asked as his voice shook “Not if you weren’t looking, no one should be looking but me anyways.” your hands trailed down to his belt as you started to unbuckle his belt as his hands came down to stop you “Not here Y/nnie, anyone can see.” you kissed his lips “Need you so bad, my pussy was throbbing just to feel your touch while I was in my seat.” you eyes trailed down his body as his you watched his cock twitch against his pants from your words as a whine left his lips. “Go to the car, no panties on i wanna be able to immediately stuff you full of my cock.”

Jungwon:

His breathing started to get heavier and heavier each time you made eye contact with him as your eyes laid on his while you watched the other group’s performances, while his eyes were fixated on yours from across the room one of his members pulled him out of his trance. “Dude quit looking at her like that or your gonna jizz in your pants.” Heeseung whispered laughing as Jay slapped his arm to shut him up, Jungwon’s gaze met yours once again as he stared at you his face started to heat up as blush ran across his face. Sunghoon turned to him and whispered in his ear “You know maybe you can tell the staff to leave and sneak to the car with her.” his gaze turned to Sunghoon “Speaking from experience?” “Just a suggestion.” his head turned to you then ushered to his phone, you brought your phone to your lap as you received a text from him. ‘Meet me at the car entrance doors’ you looked towards him as two of the members were are already staring at you including Jungwon as he winked back at you. You got up from your seat and excused yourself saying how you need meds to head to the bathroom to freshen up, he got up 5 minutes later then proceeded to walk right behind you and tickled the sides of your waist. You giggled and turned around to be faced with the most beautiful guy you ever met, your boyfriend. You never realized how lucky you got, he put his hand on yours intertwining his fingers with yours as he lead you to the car as he looked from side to side as he made sure there were no people nor cars in sight. He unlocked his and his groups car letting you get in first as he walked in after you, as he sat onto the seat your fingers already trailed along his abdomen pulling up his shirt just a bit past his waist, “Seems like you needed me too.” he whisper in your ear as he trailed kisses along your face and trailed them along your body as he leaned you down onto the seat below you. He pulled your shirt up past your breast’s as he kissed from your face down to your abdomen as he moved your pants down to your knees as he trailed kisses along your clothed pussy, “You don’t know how bad i’ve been needing you all day, sitting in that seat acting as if my cock isn’t hard.”

#smut #fluff #enha x reader #enhypen smut #heeseung smut #jake smut #jay smut #jungwon smut #sunghoon smut #sunoo smut

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mphountitled · 7 months

Text

𝙎𝙩𝙪𝙙𝙮 𝙂𝙖𝙢𝙚𝙨

Jung Woo-Young x fem!reader

Being forced by his label to learn English fucking sucks but his tutor makes it just a little more bearable

Warnings: Wooyoung as his own warning, Language, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Idol x English!Teacher, Sapiosexual!Wooyoung, Slight!Jealousy, Academia Talk, Humor, Teasing, Smut (+18), heavy make out sesh, Slight Pervy!Wooyoung, Whimpering!Wooyoung, Dirty Talk, Degradation Kink, Praise Kink, Dry Humping, Grinding, Brattiness, Self Degradation, Neediness, Slight Dub/CON, Dom/Sub undertones

Ft. Wooyoung and his canonical degradation kink

"What you need to understand is that Shakespeare used a significant amount of his time cautioning his audience against the perils of this mortal coil." Despite your vexation warming the pits of your stomach, you're thankful that your voice does not relay how utterly irritated you actually are. Your back is straight, giving nothing away of your exhaustion as you point to your copy of a Literature textbook.

"So, maybe I should've initially explained that the biggest theme of this sonnet is grief," you explain, drearily, letting your fingers knot into your curls as you soldier on through the text.

You could almost hear your coworkers discrediting you right now. How could one manage to hit the holy grail in getting chosen to tutor a bunch of stars and utterly fail at it in the process? Your PhD is mourning her sorrows.

"That is bad tutoring on my part, I apologise, Mr Jung, Sir," it is virtually impossible to bend into a full on bow in your current position on the chair adjacent to his bed so you settle for a quick nod of the head while skilfully avoiding eye contact.

"That's okay," Wooyoung lazily waves a hand in front of his face, "I just nearly threw up from hearing you call me 'Mr Jung'. Girl, I cried during Frozen 1 and 2... I am not the one you should be calling Mr Jung."

His ears visibly perk up just a little higher at the sound of your unprofessional, slightly airy chuckle. It has him practically scrounging for the need to hear you laugh like that again, to see your head be thrown back in a careless guffaw that only he is able to see.

But the moment ends as quickly as it began and you're visibly punishing yourself for your unprofessionalism by assuming your stoic academic role demeanour more.

"I think Mr Jung might be a little bit more professional." You finally look up at the boy sitting lazily against the headboard of his impressive king sized bed. Out of all the members you taught, you had only ever been permitted to see the inside of Wooyoung's bedroom - under the guise that he simply cannot function by being forced to sit on uncomfortable dining room chairs.

You sit opposite the bed, on a chair, to maintain some semblance of your dwindling professionalism,

"Mr Jung is so boring though!" He exclaims, throwing his head backwards and letting it sink into his mountain of fluffy pillows, "Wooyoung is completely fine! Or perhaps Baby. Or even Sexiest Man You've Ever Had The Pleasure Of Seeing," his lips curl into a smirk, "Your choice."

The text book is long forgotten amongst the dispersed sheets as Wooyoung glances up at you from his perch against his pillows. Of all the members, Wooyoung is also especially difficult to work with, not in any academic capacity, just in the sense that his advances are endless. And whether he actually means it - whether that twinkle in his eye accompanied by that cheeky grin was really real, or just endless teasing due to his innate flirtatious design. You might never really know.

"I can't in good conscious refer to you by that last option." You reply with a light shrug before crossing your legs in front of you, "I've met Choi San, and I'm not in the business of lying to you,"

"Oh! That's how we're gonna play now!? You're just gonna bring up another man in my presence? I thought the relationship we had was something special?"

"I'm an underpaid, mediocre teacher," You forget yourself and snort through a chuckle, "I have no time to forge special relationships."

He is stunned and slightly turned on by your cool commitment to the banter, not expecting you to hit back with such a quick jest.

As Wooyoung watches you from behind the few loose strands framing his face, his long hair loose, he realises he enjoys associating you with that forbidden word, even if it is just in his head.

Relationship.

"I'm not really into that negative self-talk." He says, watching you intently, "You're a good teacher."

"You're just saying that," You swat at the air in front of you, before burying your chin into your chest - that shy streak of yours rearing its head. He noticed that every sliver of a compliment led you to the involuntary need to disappear and Wooyoung wanted to correct that as best as he could.

"I say some stuff sometimes to make people feel better, yes," you finally look up at him from your scattered notes. His eyes are characteristically bright and his glistening lips are pulled into a small smile, "But this is not one of those times," He forces out, fighting against a familiar warmth pooling in the depths of his stomach.

"Right," you clear your throat, before assuming the role of tutor once again, "So… Sonnet 71 -"

In your periphery, Wooyoung raises his hand. Without looking up from your notes you reply, 'I know what you're gonna ask, Wooyoung but no, unfortunately you cannot refer to it as 'Sonnet 71'. Not many people care nowadays but the ones that do, want you to refer to the poem by its full title: 'No Longer Mourn For Me When I Am Dead.'" there's a bravado that graces your tone as you settle into your tutelage. It allows you to assume an almost elevated role as your eyes scan the text while simultaneously stringing a web of tantalising words together.

Wooyoung tries to focus on exactly what it is you're actually saying, he really does, but soon, you're stifling a quiet yawn before stretching your left arm over your head. He does not believe you intended for your breasts to push up from the low dip of your v neck, but that's exactly what happens and that pool of lava that has been welling in his stomach slowly rushes to his cock. Needless to say, Wooyoung slyly grabs the textbook onto his lap.

"So Shakespeare's great caution is that of grief. It's okay to mourn your loved ones but not to mourn them in routine, because that then can become a second death, equally as detrimental. Are you listening, Wooyoung?" his head snaps up from your chest, to the sound of the light scolding in your voice and he can instantly conclude that he is hard. He's not sure why, but your tone has his resolve weakening, and his head spiralling further into a fog.

"Please tell me, you're listening, Wooyoung. This is very important," He nods slowly with his shoulders hunched, and his eyebrows curved into crescents. He did not trust himself to speak, not when your words had him imagining you scolding him petulantly while he plowed into you from behind. Screaming at him to stop being so bad while he forced his hard cock deeper and deeper. He can vividly imagine your tight walls gripping his cock like a fucking vice while his fingers squeezed your nipples until they ached.

"Look, Wooyoung, I've been trying to be nice but it's been 3 hours and we're still on the first sonnet," he stopped his head from nodding profusely at the degradation that wants to seep into your tone while he watches you with darkened eyes. His fingers curl slowly into the ends of the open book on his lap, as he pushes his textbook into his lap. "We've done this long enough, Wooyoung," you continue with your ample chest beginning to rise and fall and the first signs of your bra strap, peeling from underneath your top. "You should know this, Wooyoung"

"Fuck," He involuntary groans, while he moves his textbook slightly, enough to create friction but not nearly enough to achieve the friction he actually desires. Before he gets completely ahead of himself, he stills his movements, opting to distract himself by speaking, instead.

"O-okay but if this is a poem about grief, why the hell am I seeing him talk about summer."

"Summer?"

Wooyoung nods, humming. "This man is talking about summer," he says, pointing to the book on his lap.

"Wooyoung…" You instinctively get up from your perch on your chair, advancing on him. Wooyoung visibly swallows as you plop yourself next to him, shoulder to shoulder as you peer over into the book on his lap. While your eyes frantically scan the printed ink, Wooyoung watches you from the side, trying to pen your face to memory, especially from having you so close.

"Wooyoung, this isn't the right poem!"

He watches you with slightly hooded eyes, completely unaware to anything outside of the tone of your voice

"It isn't?" He shakes his head, agreeing instantly with your scolding but not really hearing what you're saying. His words are slurred and his tone is distracted.

"Oh my gosh- you've completely missed the entire poem."

"I have?"

"Jesus, you haven't been listening to me, have you-"

He's already shaking his head as he leans in, muttering a quiet, "I haven't," as the tips of his fingers find the underside of your chin and drags you towards him. Dazed.

You're utterly dazed as soon as your lips connect with his. Somehow, the entire concept of space and time and everything in between seems utterly useless, the words on the page seem frivolous and everything outside of this moment feels like it shouldn't have the right to exist. He is kissing you and soon you are kissing him back, filling the boy with an unprecedented sense of elation at having his attraction to you validated. He is so elated in fact, he pushes off his text book and, without breaking the kiss, manoeuvres you onto his lap instead.

You're gasping into his mouth as soon as you feel his bulge connect with your core, "I know, I know, I'm sorry," He murmurs drunkenly into your kiss, taking the time to push his tongue into your mouth and brush up desperately against yours. The tone of his voice steals all composure, and soon you're pushing against him, rushed and hurried, like a raging fire before the embers set. You and Wooyoung are absolutely unstoppable as his hands travel up and down the sides of your body, hungrily searching for any sliver of skin, needing to feel your body heat searing into him.

The very moment your hands slither into his thick, grown-out hair, he is utterly done for, bucking into your hips until his bulge was brushing hungrily against your core. A torrid moan espaces your throat when Wooyoung dips into the crook of your neck, nuzzling into the softness of your skin and the comfort of your perfume while hands travel down your hips, urging you to move in tandem with him.

"So good," He mumbles against your skin, "You feel so good, baby." But your mind is flooded with a tempest of conflicting feelings and emotions as you pull lightly on his strands and follow along with his movements.

"Wooyoung…" you're panting breathlessly, suddenly painfully aware of how much your body responded to him.

"God, I love it when you say my name," He slurs as he continues to push up into you, finally settling into a needy but effective flow of movements.

Your panties are utterly soaked underneath your silk maxi skirt as the boy below you splays wet, lascivious kisses along your collar bones. Once he sees you're moving in tandem with how he needs you to, he releases one hand on your hip to paw desperately at your breasts.

"You've been-" your head is spinning as you try to formulate your sentence, "You've been sitting here with a hard on, my entire lesson?" Your words only spur his movements as Wooyoung clamps down around your torso, pushing you further down against his cock. "Fuck!" He screeches almost involuntarily at the delicious friction created by the heightened speed.

"So bad…" He murmurs drunkenly, as he begins to push up against your clit in a dangerous display of desperation, "I.. b-been so bad- m'sorry," Your head is thrown back into a moan stuck deep in your throat as you listen to the boy's needy whines, "m'so sorry, you're just so pretty," your hops move faster against his, not quite sure if this is a dream and too freaking terrified to find out as you hunt down the remnants of your oncoming orgasm.

"Wooyoung- you're gonna m-make me-"

Your hips are utterly restless against his, as you begin to grind down with immense passion. Wooyoung's head is spinning with the inevitability of making you cum. All he wants to do is make you happy. Think of how proud you'd be if he made you cum without even touching you really. You'd be so freaking happy you might just let him slide his cock inside your wet, slippery folds...

"O-Oh God, fuck- I'm cumming!" His hips rut erratically against yours, pushing agaisnt your clit until you're sent hurtling into your own orgasm. You're both moaning, whimpering messes as you grind against each other, Wooyoung clutching against your torso, with his head buried in your chest as your fingers pull mindlessly at his hair. He is in utter heaven, surrounded by the softness of your curves, with his head against the roundness of your chest. There is nothing better than this. Everything else is secondary.

"Fuck, I hate Shakespeare's but I'll read a 1000 of his poems if it means I get to do that again," he is the first to speak amongst your ragged, loud breathing.

"Wooyoung?"

"Hm?"

"Shakespeare only wrote 154 poems,"

1K notes · View notes

loveywon · 1 year

Text

♡𓂃 START NOW !

part 2 is out!

pairing: jungwon x (gn)reader wc: 3.3k synopsis: you and jungwon never really got along, but one morning you're in bed with him and you both don't recognize the room that you're in. warnings: fluff, there's a baby, angst if you squint idk, not proofread, riki n sunghoon mentioned, you n jungwon are seniors in high school! a/n: my first fic on here...NERVOUS.....IM LAZY TO PROOFREAD......pls enjoy though !!!(≧∀≦)

“Anyone who has to endure waking up next to you every morning is definitely receiving karma for something bad they did,” you rolled your eyes at Jungwon who is currently looking at you with squinted eyes and a scowl on his face.

That's the last thing you said to him before leaving school and going back home to only fight with him again the next morning. Except, you didn’t wake up in your usual bed and you didn’t hear your usual blaring alarm off the next morning. Instead, you actually feel a little hot. You don’t remember putting an extra blanket on you before going to bed last night, but you still felt an extra weight and heat radiating around you.

You blink twice, eyes still puffy from sleep as you roll over onto your side to get out of bed, but before you could actually even move your legs, a force pulled you closer to the center of the bed. You suppressed a scream. What if it was a serial killer? What if Jungwon had enough and decided to hire a hitman to kill you?! Millions of thoughts began to run through your head, but you snapped out of it when you heard a grumble from behind you. You gulped, deciding whether or not your best option was to just lay still until your potential killer got tired of waiting or if you should grab your lamppost from your bedside table and whack the person with it.

You got this, y/n! You slowly reach for the lamp, your left hand reaching out slowly to unplug the lamp as quietly as possible. With the blinds slightly cracked open from the window, something on your left finger shined in the light and you paused from almost being potentially blinded, but also because you never wore any jewelry? You quickly looked at your hand, and saw a fat, bright diamond staring right back at you on your ring finger.

In the state of shock you were in, you quickly turned around to what could be your potential killer in bed with you, but to add onto your surprise even more (honestly how did you not get a stroke?), there laid Jungwon himself, face half buried into the pillow and an arm loosely wrapped around your waist.

“What the fuck…” you whispered, eyes darting between your ring and Jungwon. You quickly got out of Jungwon’s arms and got on your feet, starting to pace around from stress. You didn’t even recognize the place you were in, everything was decorated so nicely, but so different from your house that you were literally in last night. You quickly peeked through the blinds, seeing that you were in a very suburban neighborhood that you did not recognize. You stopped pacing after getting nowhere, turning to look at Jungwon’s sleeping state. He mumbled something in his sleep, his arm subconsciously moving around the bed where you were previously laying on. This caused him to blink his eyes open and lift his head off the pillow after not finding you in bed with him.

“Good morning, princess. You had a good sleep? Oh me too, now do you please mind telling me where the fuck are we!?” You exclaimed, walking back to the edge of the bed to greet a sleepy Jungwon.

“What.. what are you doing here in my house?” Jungwon muttered, not really wanting to fight with you in the bright and early morning. He failed to process that he is in fact, not in his own home anymore.

“This is your house? If I remember correctly, last time when Riki invited me over to yours for the party, your house did not look like this. And I highly doubt that your house would have frilly curtains like this. Your curtains were literally blue last time I was there,” you sighed, clearly frustrated with the fact that Jungwon seemingly did not know where they were.

He slowly sat up in the bed, rubbing his eyes in an adorable manner (you would rather barf every day than admit this) as he took in his surroundings. His brows furrowed as he did so, realizing that you were right (he would rather smell Riki’s feet than admit this). “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh!” your tone dripping in sarcasm as you started to pace around the bedroom again. You spot a vanity in the corner of the room, and you decide to look through the drawers for maybe something. You didn’t know what you were looking for, but literally anything! Something!

As you get to the vanity, you look at yourself in the mirror.

“Um…Jungwon…come here…”

He was still taking in his surroundings, rolling his eyes as he groggily got out of bed and trudged towards you. He bends down to look at the mirror, eyes widening at the sight before him.

Both of you looked much more mature than you did last night, your hair was a lighter color and Jungwon’s (handsome) facial features were much more fitting in his face.

“What. Why do we look like this??” Jungwon’s hands flew to his face, touching his cheek as he poked himself while looking at the mirror. “This is some serious sick joke, it has to be! I’m gonna call Sunghoon. It was probably his doing,” He rushed to grab his phone from the bedside table, only to find that his phone was a completely different model and much thinner than his original phone. He ignores it, opening his contacts to call up Sunghoon.

“I’ll call Riki, this seems like something he would also do,” you mumble more to yourself as you grab your phone as well, which is the same as Jungwon’s; much thinner than your actual phone.

Both of you dial up Sunghoon and Riki, holding up your phones to your ears. You bite on your lip absentmindedly as the phone rang and Jungwon tapped his foot impatiently on the carpeted floor.

“Sunghoon!”

“Riki!”

“Hey, um, you can take us back home now…this house is kinda starting to creep me out. The prank is over, right? Y/n is getting on my nerves,” Jungwon mumbled the last part into the phone, taking a slight peek at you. You return his look, sharp pointed eyes glaring at him since you heard his last sentence.

“Stop with this prank, seriously Riki! I think I might make Jungwon bald faster than he already is if I’m stuck here any longer!” You spoke into the phone, not bothering to keep your words shushed. You wanted him to hear it.

Jungwon merely rolled his eyes at your words, choosing to be the “bigger” person, as if he didn’t just say that you were getting on his nerves earlier.

Over the phone, Sunghoon spoke, “What prank? I literally dropped you guys off at home last night, what are you talking about? Also I thought after you and Y/n got married, you would stop with your silly bickering. Ah, you guys are so cute.”

Jungwon swore his eye twitched at Sunghoon’s words.

“Hi Y/n! I don’t know what prank you’re talking about, I swear! Whatever it is, it’s not me this time! Maybe it was Sunghoon, didn’t he see you guys last night? And you’re still bullying Jungwon after all these years? I thought we left that at high school!” Riki chuckled through the phone.

You swore your eye twitched.

You both hung up after saying your goodbyes, deeming them as useless. You and Jungwon turn back to each other from opposite ends of the bed.

“It’s not Sunghoon.”

“It’s not Riki.”

You opened your mouth again to start panicking, however, a spine chilling cry came from across the hall, through the closed door of the bedroom you and Jungwon were in. The both of you furrowed your brows in confusion. It sounded like a baby’s cry, and last time the both of you checked, you guys didn’t have any younger siblings.

You hesitated to check out where the crying was coming from, but the ever so (annoying) brave Jungwon didn’t think twice to leave the bedroom and open the door across the hall. You quickly follow behind, not wanting to be left alone in the foreign bedroom. You peek from behind his shoulder, only to find a baby crying in their cradle, flailing their arms around as they sob loudly.

“Oh my god, I think I’m gonna puke,” you say exaggeratedly. Truth be told, the baby was cute, but you were never a person that experienced baby fever.

Jungwon rolled his eyes at you before walking towards the cradle, shushing the baby quietly as he took it into his arms and started to rock it back and forth in his arms as if it was second nature. The baby surprisingly didn’t cry louder when Jungwon picked it up, which showed on Jungwon’s facial features as he continued to shush the baby. You watched silently, a slight pout unknowingly forming on your lips before Jungwon spoke.

“I think she’s hungry. Can you get me the baby bottle behind you and make the milk?” He asked quietly, not wanting to scare the baby since the baby doesn’t know him.

“Oh, uh, yeah…” you replied, turning around to the table behind you. You grabbed the baby bottle and twisted the cap open, but didn’t make a move to do anything else. You stared at the machine. It looked like an espresso machine, but you didn’t exactly know how to work it. You start to press a few buttons, however, none were successful.

Jungwon sighed, “You have no idea how to make baby milk do you?” He stated more than questioned before he walked towards you and gestured to you to take the baby out of his arms so that he could make the milk.

You stared at him. He wanted you to hold a baby? You considered yourself to never be trusted with a baby. “Um, I…” You started, forming excuses that were on the tip of your tongue but Jungwon stopped you before you could say anything.

“Just hold her. It’s not the end of the world.”

You bit on your inner cheek, grabbing the baby from his arms and started to cradle her with it. Hey! It was easier than you thought, like you had done this before (you haven’t, your parents never let you near your baby cousins).

You stared at the baby as Jungwon started to mix the baby milk formula, studying her features. She was actually a lot cuter up close, and before you even noticed, a small smile started forming on your features and the baby soon stopped crying and giggled upon seeing your smile.

Jungwon abruptly turned around, scared that you did something to the baby since she had stopped crying. “What did you d-” He asked hurriedly, but stopped himself when he saw you admiring the baby.

When you weren’t telling him that he was balding, he always thought you were pretty. This was the closest he’s been next to you when seeing you smile. Everytime he did see you smile, it was always from across the lunchroom at school, or on the other side of the class you two shared together.

Catching himself staring, he quickly turned back around to attend the milk, but his own little smile graced his face as well.

“Mama!” The baby babbled, small hands reaching out to touch your hair. You swore you almost dropped the baby on the floor, eyes almost popping out of your head as your jaw went agape.

Jungwon halted his movements as well, about to pour the milk formula into the baby bottle. He slowly turned around, the baby bottle still in hand but only half filled.

“What did she just say.” You and Jungwon said flatly in unison.

After putting the baby back in the cradle and properly giving her the milk, you and Jungwon both left the baby room and sat on a bench that was in the hallway.

It was silent after a while, neither of you guys knowing what to say or think.

“Okay…realistically, that is probably someone else’s baby, right? And she’s still young, so she probably just thought that you were her mother…” Jungwon said after some time, his hands running through his hair as he stressed about their current situation.

“Yeah, but,” you hesitated to say what you were thinking, looking at the door that led to the baby’s room.

“What? Say it. We only have each other right now. I don’t know where we are, and if Sunghoon and Riki insist that this is our house, they are either very, incredibly serious, or they are stretching out this prank. But I don’t think either would go as far as to use a real baby for a prank…right?” Jungwon started to ramble before realizing it.

“She looked like you.”

His head turned to look at you, but you were still facing the baby’s door. “What are you talking about?” He said suspiciously, for once hesitating to ask you about something. He’s never been scared of you - he thinks he never will be. At first, when you two first crossed paths in freshman year of high school, he didn’t think you were scary. Maybe intimidating, but not scary. He doesn’t even remember your first interaction, if he was being honest. He likes to think his first interaction with you was when you both were helping out Yearbook with taking photos of the dance and you asked him to hand you a SD card because your camera was missing one. He knows it wasn’t actually your first interaction with him.

You remember your exact first words with Jungwon.

“You said I stink?” You said as you stood above his desk where he was sitting, three minutes before your shared class starts.

He blinks up at you, studying your furrowed brows and the slight pout on your lips. His mouth falls open, but nothing comes out. You roll your eyes, reaching for something in your backpack. You take out a Jo Malone perfume, and start to spray it between you and him. You stopped until Jungwon started coughing from the amount of strong fragrance in the air, smiling like you won first place at an Olympic sport, before walking back to your designated seat.

Jungwon bought the perfume the next day, waiting for you to use all the perfume up and putting it in your locker when he heard you complain to your friends that it was getting empty.

“She has your eyes and your dimples when she giggles.” You say, matter of factly. You didn’t want to admit that you take in Jungwon’s cat-like eyes, the soft brown that they are and his cute dimples he has whenever he laughs at something stupid Riki said.

“She also has your nose,” Jungwon also says after a little silence. He noticed the baby’s nose when he first picked her up, how could he not when he spends your time arguing to admire your facial features?

You stay quiet after he says that, unsure of what to say. This was awkward, and there was literally nothing to go off of. The only proof of whose home this is, is that a random baby that spawned out of nowhere looks like both you and Jungwon. Is that really enough to go off of?

As the both of you are in deep thought, you snap out of it as your stomach grumbles from not eating dinner last night. You crashed in bed as soon as you finished your homework, completely forgetting to eat dinner.

Jungwon does his best to stifle a laugh, but he fails, which earns him a glare from you. He stands up from the bench, your eyes following his movements as he walks towards the stairs. He looks at you with an eyebrow raised, “Are you coming? Riki says I make a mean pancake.”

Your brows raise in surprise, standing up from the bench and following him down the stairs. As you take in the new surroundings, Jungwon just strides into the kitchen as if he knew exactly where he was.

“Are you sure you aren’t the one pranking me? You look so…natural in the house,” You start to question, but you highly doubt it because he panicked and over thought as much as you did. He shrugs at your question, but he begins to think the same as well. How did he exactly know where the kitchen was, not thinking twice about looking at yet another new surroundings.

As he starts to prepare the pancakes for the both of you, you walk towards the living room that is next to the open spaced kitchen. There’s a scrapbook laid open on the coffee table, and you quickly rush to look at it, thinking it would give you some hints about where you were.

You were wrong. It only made you even more confused as you started to flip through the pages.

Even though it freaked you out what was on the pages, you couldn’t help but keep looking at the filled pages full of photos and writings.

Every single photo had a photo of at least you, Jungwon, or the baby.

You’re flipping through the pages backwards, so when you get to the first few pages, you see a photo of you and Jungwon under a decorated wedding arch. Your eyes widen at the pictures, one of you kissing him on the cheek and another of both of you kissing on the lips. You felt like throwing up.

Fighting through it, you keep going backwards until you reach the first page. There lies a taped letter, and you instantly recognize it as Jungwon’s writing. You read it, and the further you get down to the end of the written letter, you don’t notice Jungwon calling your name.

“Y/n! The pancakes are ready…” his voice fades out as he peers over your shoulder to see what you’re looking at. His face pales.

He wrote that letter in junior year. He remembers so vividly, him planning to put it in your locker. Even though he enjoys your little bickering here and there, he wants to be able to hold you, kiss you, and love you. He wants to see you smiling, not because of your friends, but because of him. You only frown whenever you’re around him.

He wishes you didn’t mishear what he said. Maybe if you heard “Riki stinks” instead of “Y/n stinks”, you two would have been a couple sooner.

“You like me?” You ask him, but you’re not looking at him. You’re staring blankly at the last words written on the letter that reads, “Please accept my liking for you! - Jungwon<3.”

His mouth is dry.

He never did put it in your locker. He really was! But their senior, Intak, beat him to it. You rejected Intak for whatever reason, but he lost his courage to shove the letter into your locker for the rest of the year and decided that bickering and fighting with each other would be enough to satiate him for the time being.

After a long silence, you shut the scrapbook and put it back on the table. You shift on the couch that you’re sitting on, turning around to look him in the eye, however, he’s not looking at you. He’s staring down at his pancakes, teeth capturing his bottom lip as he thinks of what to say.

He doesn’t think you reciprocate his feelings. Why would you when you pick a fight with him every day at school? He thinks you’re just bored and find entertainment in bickering with him, and he’s fine with that. At least he gets to interact with you daily, it’s enough for him.

But now? He’s scared. He’s scared that if he answers yes, he does like you, then you will never speak to him. Knowing you, you might walk out the door of this foreign house that they’re in, and never come back.

“I don’t know if I like you, to be honest.” You say flatly, as if you were so sure of what you were saying. He still doesn’t look up from his pancakes. He expected this.

“But, I can start now.”

part 2 out now!

#enhypen x reader #jungwon x reader #jungwon drabbles #jungwon oneshots #jungwon imagines #jungwon scenarios #jungwon fluff #enhypen x y/n #enhypen x gender neutral reader #enhypen oneshots #enhypen drabbles #enhypen scenarios #enhypen imagines #jungwon fic #enhypen fic #loveywonenha #jungwon #jungwon fanfic #enhypenfanfic

2K notes · View notes

steveharringtonat3am · 2 years

Text

Free use with Steve

kinktober masterlist!!

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 1.2k

warnings: roomate!steve, free use agreement (fully consensual), an allusion to sex, hair pulling, degradation, a little bit of bondage, penetrative sex, edging

a/n: shoutout to the loml @ddejavvu for helping me out with some characterization!! dedicating this one to her as 1/2 of her birthday present!! <3

When I had first seen Steve’s ad for a roommate, I hadn’t paid any mind to the lack of a rent price in the ad. I figured he would let me know if he actually wanted me to move in. So after he showed me around and we talked for a bit about all the major stuff, I asked about it. And he gave the most intriguing answer I’ve ever heard.

“Well, I’m gonna offer you two options. You could pay half of the rent, so about $900 a month or…you could-could pay nothing.” This option seems to make him nervous, as he shifts slightly in his seat.

“Pay nothing?”

“See, that comes with a catch. If you choose to pay nothing then I would cover you and…you would have to return the favour.” A hint of red colours his cheeks. While I admit it suits him, it gives me a hint as to where this conversation is going.

“And how would I do that?”

“By being a-available at all times.” He smiles sheepishly and fiddles with his hoodie strings

“Available for…what exactly?”

“Sex.” When he says it I think I’ve misheard him. But…he couldn’t have said anything else. He takes my staring as a cue to explain further.

“Well…that sounds bad. You don’t have to have sex with me, especially not right away. And you’re perfectly welcome to pay your half of the rent and completely forget about this. But I like you. And my job is…pretty stressful. So if you would be okay with me relieving that stress with you, I’d be happy to cover the full rent.” He smiles softly and I take a second to process all this. I mean, I did think he was really cute. And definitely my type.

Also, I didn’t have many other options for an apartment. This place was in a good neighbourhood, I had my own bathroom, a nice kitchen, and plenty of natural light. I would be crazy to give that up. And I would be even crazier to give up living rent-free in exchange for having occasional sex with my very hot roommate.

“You know what? Sure. You’ve got a deal, Harrington. Just don’t be a perv.” His laugh is boyish, grinning as he sips his water.

“You’ve got my word.”

So, I moved in a week later. Frankly, it was a great deal. Steve was incredibly sweet and we ended up spending a lot of time together. Which of course, had its perks.

“Holy shit,” I whisper into the hot room, as Steve collapses next to me, panting.

“Holy shit is right. I figured it would take at least another month before we hooked up.” He smiles at me and I can’t help but return it.

“I really thought the only times we would do anything would be whenever you wanna take your stress out on me,” I say as he tugs me close, pressing a soft kiss to the top of my head.

“Well, I had to give you a little preview of what you’re signing up for. Would hate to condemn you to mediocre sex.” He chuckles and I smile up at him.

“I don’t think anything about you is mediocre, Steve Harrington.”

After that, he really took advantage of our agreement. He started off slow, wandering hands when I was doing the dishes, gently groping me if I was near, a lewd comment every once in a while. Honestly, I liked it. It made me feel so wanted. I found myself craving every glance, comment, and touch.

When he finally upped the ante, bending me over the counter one night after dinner to fuck me with almost no warning, it was practically a dream come true.

And boy did Steve know it.

“Fucking stupid motherfuckers.” I hear Steve cursing under his breath as he slams the front door behind him. I pause my movie, turning to look at him. He’s toeing his shoes off, furiously tugging at his tie. I know how much he hated the thing. It represented everything he hated while working at his dad’s firm.

“Bad day?” I question, finally gaining his attention. The second his eyes focus on me, they darken.

“Mhm. Very…stressful.” He crosses the room quickly. His hand gently pushes my hair away from my face before gripping it tightly. Steve knows to grab at the base of the hairs, so it doesn’t hurt as much but I still wince.

“I-I can help with that?” I peer up at him and he breaks for a second, smiling fondly.

“You’re such a good girl…turn around?” He grips the fabric of his tie in his hands, making me grin and turn. The second I’m situated, he smacks me with it. It barely stings, but the surprise makes me yelp.

“Be quiet. Don’t wanna hear you.” He grips my wrists in one hand, wrapping his tie around them. This was not a new thing, so I don’t squirm. Steve enjoyed having my hands bound while he used me.

I try not to move as he tugs my pyjama pants down just enough to expose my ass. Luckily for him, it was laundry night so I had forgone panties.

“Such a slut.” He mumbles, ever a fan of degradation. His hand runs over the fat of my ass, squeezing the flesh appreciatively. He pulls away to undo his pants, the metal of his belt buckle clicking as he drops the leather to the floor. A small part of me is disappointed. I’d been hoping he’d spank me at least a few times. It always hurt so well.

I feel the head of his cock line up with my entrance and I bite my lip hard to keep from moaning.

“Fucking hell…” He curses as he starts pushing in. He goes slower than normal, maybe trying to make this last extra long. Steve was always a big fan of spending hours bringing both of us to the edge, just to stop so that we could do it all over again.

“Please…” I whisper before I can think. He stops and I tense, ready for him to spank me hard.

“I told you to be fucking quiet.” Before I can apologize, he slams into me. I gasp, barely able to catch my breath as he starts pounding into me.

“S-such a stupid toy.” He moans softly, nails digging into me. Moans continue to slip out of me as the head of his cock slams into that spot that makes me go crazy. He doesn’t bother reprimanding though, focusing on chasing his release.

“This pussy always feels so fucking good.” He groans. I can feel my orgasm building, the coil tightening with every deep thrust. I know Steve is on the edge, so I have to cum before he does. No way does he spend extra time on me now that I made noise.

“Shit!” He curses and I feel him cum. As his thrusts slow, my orgasm ebbs away. I whine weakly but he just chuckles and pulls out slowly. Cum slowly leaks out of me and runs down my thighs as Steve leans down to whisper in my ear.

“Don’t you know? Toys don’t get to cum.”

hope you enjoyed!!

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington smut #stranger things #stranger things smut #kinktober #kinktober 2022

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roosterforme · 8 months

Text

The Grateful Dad Part 2 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: Bradley can't believe you and he are about to be parents. Just when he was getting used to the idea of how his life would be, the two of you get an unexpected surprise. And by your third trimester, when you make a promise to him and then break it, he's left to deal with some things in his own.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, swears, smut and pregnancy

Length: 4900 words

Pairing: Beer Boy and Sugar! Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader (former fuckboy college student Bradley)

This is an optional one-shot to accompany my fics Old Habits Die Hard and Right Girl, Wrong Time!

Read Part 1! Check my profile for my masterlist

It didn't fully hit Bradley until the first time he noticed that soft swell of your belly. It seemed to sneak up on him, the way it took several months before it was noticeable. But once it was there, it was all he could think about.

He was going to be a dad. And you were going to be a mom.

"Sugar," he whined that first day he noticed it. "You have a bump." You were lying in bed, trying to read as he pushed your tie dye shirt up a few more inches. "This wasn't here yesterday."

You set your book down and glanced to where his hands were resting gently on your belly. "I guess I do have a little bump," you replied softly, running your fingers through his hair as he kissed the spot just above your belly button. "My wool skirt is getting snug for work, but I thought I was just bloated."

Bradley was mesmerized. "Do you think it's a girl or a boy?" he asked, glancing up at you with a grin.

"Do you really care?"

"Not at all." He kissed your bump and started humming his favorite Grateful Dead song. Bradley knew this was likely the only time you'd want to get pregnant. Your career was important to you, and you were already concerned about the baby coming before the end of your spring semester. You said you were going to have to take the following fall semester off from teaching, because you didn't want to let down the math majors at San Diego State University where you taught calculus.

"You don't know how easy it is to love you," he sang to your belly before abruptly rolling over in bed.

"Where are you going?" you asked him with a laugh.

He grabbed his phone and opened his music app, mumbling, "The baby should get to hear the Grateful Dead perform it. Sounds better than when I sing."

He queued up the song and placed his phone near your belly as it started. "I don't know. I kind of like your version, Beer Boy," you promised, and he kissed your lips before pushing your shirt up high enough so he could see your tattoo of the song lyrics.

"That's good, because I'll never stop singing it," he whispered, running his nose along your tattoo. He placed one hand gently on your belly and sang along.

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

"I'm so excited," Bradley whispered for the seventh time in five minutes. "I don't think I've ever been this excited before. I also kind of feel like I'm going to throw up."

"Relax," you whispered, taking his hand. If he was this bad today when you were getting a high definition ultrasound, maybe you didn't want him with you when you actually delivered the baby.

"I just want to see the bean," he mumbled, practically bouncing in the waiting room chair.

You tried not to smile, because he actually looked a little pale and nervous. "We don't even get to find out the sex today."

"Yeah," he replied, exasperated, "but we get to see the bean, Sugar. Up close and personal."

When they called your name a minute later, Bradley jumped out of his seat and dragged you down the hallway. He paced around the first room while you had some blood drawn. And then he paced around the next room while you waited for the technician to come in.

"Why did they call us back if they weren't ready?" he grunted, eyeing you up and down as you sat on the exam table in a hospital gown. "This is taking for fucking ever."

"Watch your language in front of the baby," you scolded, and his eyes went wide.

"Shit, you're right. Oh, fuck. Damn it!" You were cracking up now as he sat down with his forehead resting on his palms. "I'll get better, I promise!"

"You have about six more months to shape up your act."

He thought about everything he had planned for the next six months. Buy a crib and a stroller. Put a car seat in the Bronco. Paint the extra bedroom. Put those little plastic safety things in all the outlets in the house.

When the exam room door opened, he jumped to his feet as a woman in pink scrubs walked in. "Hi, I'm Elaine! Sorry for the long wait, but we were double checking your blood work," she said walking toward you.

"What's wrong with the blood work?" Bradley asked, his voice suddenly hoarse. The desire to throw up returned, and he was reaching backwards for the arm of the chair.

"Nothing at all," she replied smoothly, helping you lay back on the table and opening the hospital gown. "A lot of different levels were elevated, so we wanted to be sure. But if you're ready to see the babies, then we can get started."

"Babies?" you and Bradley nearly shouted in unison as Elaine opened the software and turned on the gigantic monitor.

"Yes," she replied with a smile. "You're having twins."

Bradley nearly collapsed back into the empty chair. "Holy shit. Holy shit, Sugar!"

"Twins?!" you asked Elaine. Bradley couldn't tell if you were excited about the idea or not, but he was thrilled. Two babies? In one go? This was better than getting a promotion at work. This was almost as good as his wedding day. Almost as exciting as when you and he reunited in Virginia after ten years apart.

When you reached out your hand toward him, Bradley rocketed out of his seat to get to you. "Are you happy?" he asked, lacing his fingers with yours and kissing your forehead.

"I... I think so. I think I'm kind of shocked."

"Me, too. But in a very, very good way."

As the two of you watched the monitor while Elaine moved the wand around on your belly, Bradley's eyes filled with tears. He had never seen anything so sweet in his life.

"Two little beans," you whispered, and Bradley watched you cry as you smiled. When he nodded, you added, "Yes, I'm happy."

But when Bradley got you settled at home, his apprehension started to creep in. You were clearly tired. You were the one growing the twin beans. He probably wasn't doing enough. As you slowly dozed off in bed wearing his old Grateful Dead shirt, he watched your lips part, soft breathing taking over.

His thoughts drifted to his own parents. He could only remember how much pain his mom had been in before she died, and he could barely picture what his dad looked like unless he had a photo in his hand.

Bradley could feel his heart rate pick up, the rapid pounding filling his ears started to make him feel crazy. He sat up in bed, trying to catch his breath. "Fuck," he muttered. He was going to mess this all up. He didn't know what he was doing. He couldn't remember his dad. And all he knew was that his mom somehow made him feel safe without really doing anything that he could model his behavior off of. Carole just made everything seem effortless, which was not helping him right now.

He bolted out of bed, and then your eyes were open and focused on him. "What's wrong?" you asked groggily. "I need you to snuggle with me."

He studied your pretty face and your earnest expression. "What if I suck at being a dad?" he blurted out.

You set your head back down on the pillow and reached out for him with one hand. "You're good at everything else. You'll be good at this, too."

"But what if I'm not?" he demanded. "I don't know what the hell I'm doing. I barely even had a dad." He thought of the navy desk lamp and how he'd followed in his father's career path and how he somehow knew Nick had loved him.

"You've never let me down yet, Beer Boy." Your soft words and the way you reached for his hands were enough to get him back into bed. And then his pulse returned to normal as you wrapped him up in your arms. This time he was dozing off before you were.

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

Bradley went sprinting out of work at the beginning of lunchtime. If Maverick kept them one minute longer, Bradley would have earned himself some push-ups for insubordination. It was your anatomy ultrasound scan day, and now he was going to be late meeting you there.

"Fuck," he groaned as he yanked down the zipper of his flight suit a few inches as he pulled out into traffic. He was trying so hard to stop swearing, but days like this just called for the f word. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," he growled, weaving around cars.

He wanted to know more about the twin beans. You and he had been talking about names, and he was beyond excited about everything. Last weekend he had painted the nursery a soft gray color and assembled two cribs. He even ordered a variety of matching tie dye onesies. Then you told him he did a great job and pushed him down on the floor on the new cloud shaped area rug in the nursery. His reward was getting to run his hands all over your round belly and tits while you rode him.

Bradley was in love with you and the babies, and being late today was making him upset. You were already on the exam table with the technician when the receptionist led him back to the room.

"Oh good, you're here," you sighed as he rushed toward you and grabbed your hand.

"I'm so sorry I'm late," he whispered, kissing your forehead and then your belly.

The technician smiled as Bradley knelt next to the table with his hand in yours. "Let's begin?" the technician asked. And when you nodded, he rubbed some gel on your belly and ran the wand slowly back and forth until those adorable beans were on the monitor just like last time.

"They got so big!" Bradley said, proud of how nicely they were growing.

"They are measuring right where they should be," the technician said, pausing the screen to take some pictures. "And I can tell you the sex for both of them if you want to know."

"Yes!" Bradley nearly shouted, looking up at your beautiful face as you laughed. "Please!"

"Okay, here we go."

It felt like an eternity as Bradley gripped your hand, waiting to be informed about what he was looking at on the screen. You were stroking his knuckles with your thumb, always so calm and analytical.

He glanced at your face and watched you as the technician said, "Baby number one right here is not shy at all. He's waving hi."

"He?" Bradley was on his feet, trying to get closer to the screen.

"Yes. A boy," the technician said.

"Another little Beer Boy in the making," you said before Bradley leaned down to kiss you.

He was sure he looked ridiculous as he said, "Nah, he'll be so much better than me. He's half you."

The way you smiled up at Bradley had him kneeling next to you again. "What about baby number two? Can we look at that bean now?" he asked, squeezing your hand.

"Okay," the technician said, drawing Bradley's attention toward the screen again. "And baby number two...well she's trying to hide behind her brother, but there she is."

Bradley shouted, "Yes!" so loudly that you and the technician both jumped a little bit. "Oh my god, Sugar!"

"One of each," you whispered, covering your lips with your shaky fingers.

"This is exactly what I was hoping for, but I didn't want to say it out loud," he whispered against your ear before kissing you all over your face. "Two little beans. One of each!"

You wrapped your arms around Bradley's neck and said. "You don't know how easy it is to love you."

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

"I'm not going to make it," you moaned, laying on the couch while Bradley made dinner while his phone rang. You were at the start of your third trimester. You were huge. You were always hungry. It was getting hard to stand up for your lectures that were longer than an hour. And Bradley was the only thing holding you together.

"Fuck!" he suddenly shouted from the kitchen.

"What's wrong?" you asked, lifting your head up from the cushion. When Bradley walked into the living room, his brow was pinched and he was eyeing you warily. "What?" you demanded, struggling to sit up.

He knelt in front of you and eased you into a seated position. "Sugar," he whispered, pleading with you. "I just got the call. A special mission."

Tears sprang to your eyes. "A deployment?"

"Yeah, baby. I'll be back before the due date."

You cried while his lips met your belly through your shirt. "But, Bradley," you sobbed, "I can't! You've been doing everything! I'm so exhausted, I can barely function! And what if they extend you? That did that last time!"

Great big sobs wracked your body, and you started gasping for air. Soon you were close to hyperventilating, but Bradley got you into the bathroom just in time for you to throw up in the toilet. And then you curled up on the floor and looked up at him. Your voice was a harsh whisper as he rubbed your back. "I can't do this without you."

He looked distraught as he said, "I don't want you to have to. But Uncle Sam owns my ass."

You closed your eyes, dreading asking him for the mission details. So instead you whispered, "No, the beans and I own your ass. Uncle Sam just borrows you."

"You absolutely own my ass, Sugar," he replied softly, kissing your tear streaked cheeks and helping you get to your feet. "Let's try to eat dinner, and we can talk this through."

Bradley carried two plates of food to the dining room table where you had the perfect view of the glossy white doors he had used to propose to you. He had hung them up on the wall, turning them into the most beautiful work of former frat boy art you had ever seen.

SUGAR

WILL

YOU

MARRY

ME?

You picked at your food as he filled you in on the missions plans. He was perfect. Your husband was perfect, and now you were scared you weren't going to be able to get through a month without him. And then you started to spiral, because if four weeks alone while you were pregnant felt too daunting, how would you manage twins while he was gone for months at a time?

"Beer Boy?" you whimpered. "I can't do this."

"Yes," he said adamantly, "you can. You're the strongest person I know."

You bit down hard on your lip as it quivered. "What if something happens to you? Or me? Or them?" Your voice broke, and once again, Bradley was collecting you into his arms and abandoning the dinner plates. You cried softly as he helped you out of your work clothes and into his old Grateful Dead shirt. And then you curled up in bed and watched him strip down to his underwear.

You watched the flex of his muscles as he took the hideous, tie dyed Grateful Dad shirt out of his drawer and pulled it on. "Nothing's going to happen," he whispered as he got in bed beside you. "You'll wear your shirt, and I'll wear mine. And we'll think about each other the whole time I'm gone. And I'll hang up all the sexy photos I have of you plus the ultrasounds of the beans. And before you know it, I'll be back. And then the beans will be here. And then we'll actually be even more perfect than I ever thought possible."

You cried yourself to sleep in his arms, soaking up all of his beautiful words.

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

Bradley's duffle bag was packed. He was leaving in the morning. You'd made him a little folder of copies of the ultrasound photos, and he'd added a few wedding photos as well. He laughed every time he looked at the photos from your Vegas wedding with Elvis. But right now, he felt like crying.

Somehow you were holding it together better than he was right now. "You coming to bed, Beer Boy?"

He zipped his bag closed and looked up to find you standing there in your navy blue bra and matching panties. Your tits looked bigger than ever, practically spilling over the lace cups. And your belly had gotten so big, your panties were tucked below your bump. He reached out for you, pulling you close so his nose met your belly.

"I want the two of you to be good for Mommy while I'm gone, okay?" he whispered, kissing and tickling you with his mustache. He was rewarded with your fingers in his hair and a kick from one of his twins. "I love my Sugar Babies."

You giggled and said, "I wonder if that was the jellybean or the spoonful of sugar that kicked you." Over the past few weeks, you had taken to giving the twins cute little candy related names, and Bradley couldn't get enough.

He'd never get enough of you either. The way your fingers felt in his hair as he knelt in front of you. The sound of your voice when he closed his eyes. The warmth of your skin where he kissed you.

"I'm gonna miss you," he whispered before he stood and followed you to bed.

"I'll be there to pick you up four weeks from tomorrow," you promised, reaching back to unhook your bra. "I promise."

Bradley groaned loudly as you sank back into the pillows. "Your tits look delicious," he moaned, crawling across the bed to get to you. "Fucking huge."

"Watch your language in front of the babies," you whispered against his lips as he palmed your breasts and stroked your tattoos. "Daddy."

Bradley pulled your underwear down your legs and tossed them aside, running his fingers through your slick. "Bradley!" you gasped, your eyes following his every move as he brought his fingers up to his lips.

"You look delicious, and you taste delicious," he told you, licking his fingers clean before you reached for his cock through his boxer shorts. You squeezed him, eliciting a strangled, needy noise, and he whined your name.

And you let Bradley do whatever he wanted with a devilish little smile on your face and his name on your lips. You sucked his cock until he was panting, and then you leaned back with your hands on your chest. When he ran his wet length through the valley between your breasts, you urged him along.

"I want you to," you whispered as he titty fucked you. Your tongue darted out to taste him as he tried to go slow. But you looked and felt so good, he was already so far gone by the time he pulled away from you.

"I wanna make you feel good," he gasped as you pushed him onto his back. "As fucking good as you make me feel all the time."

He was treated to the sight of you awkwardly positioning him at your entrance as you had to work around your belly. And when you slid down around him with your perfect pussy, Bradley let his hands come to rest on your hips. Your body was wider now and impossibly sexy, and you rode him as you ran your fingers gently along your breasts.

"I love you, Sugar," he whispered, running his knuckles along your clit until you were clenching. His other hand came to rest on your belly, and Bradley felt so connected to you, so in love with you, that he felt a tear leak from his eye as you came from him. And then he came inside you as he met you halfway for a kiss.

As you eventually started to doze off on his shoulder, still full of his cum, you whispered, "I love you too, Beer Boy."

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

Being away from the three of you was tedious at best. Bradley found it hard to pay attention to the things he was supposed to do. He knew the mission parameters inside and out, but he didn't take the time to think about how dangerous it was. There was no space left in his jumbled thoughts for anything except you.

Phoenix had promised to go to your appointments with you in his absence, and when he was allowed to call you, he listened intently to your updates

"Jellybean boy is measuring a little bigger than our sweet girl, but they both looked good! Nice and strong according to the doctor. And I gained three more pounds, which is probably not ideal, but all the meals you made and froze for me are so yummy."

And then he flew the special mission, set on making sure it went as flawlessly as possible. Determined to stay as safe as he could. Whatever it took to get back home to San Diego and his perfect little family.

You were less than a month out from your due date now. And when Bradley arrived on the dock exactly four weeks after you'd sent him off with some filthy kisses, he was so excited to see you. See if you'd gotten bigger or had trouble walking now. He was excited to kneel down and talk to his twins.

But when he turned his phone on, he was greeted with a voicemail message of your incoherent sobbing. He dropped his bag to the deck of the aircraft carrier as the sound of you crying met his ears. His heart sank to his stomach. You'd left him this message just a handful of hours ago, but when he tried to call you back as the ship was docking, you didn't answer.

"Come on," he whispered, his voice harsh and filled with unshed tears. "Sugar." But still, you did not answer.

He could feel himself gasping for air. He promised you nothing was going to happen. He never broke his promises to you. Not even when he was twenty one years old and didn't understand the strength of the love he felt for you.

He was staring at his phone screen for a few seconds as tears filled his eyes before he realized he was receiving a call.

"Nat?" he asked, answering his best friend.

"I'm on the dock," she said simply. "I'll find you as you deboard. We're going to head right to the hospital."

"What happened to her?" he asked, clutching his own stomach, barely able to speak. "To them?"

"Early labor," was all she said. Then she sighed before repeating herself. "We'll head right to the hospital."

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

You weren't sure what was going on. All you knew was the intense amount of pain you were in was enough to make you throw up over and over again. When your water broke during your calculus lecture, you shouldn't have been surprised. You'd been feeling off all week. You tried to chalk it up to missing your husband, but it was more than that.

After your water broke, you collapsed, only breaking the fall with your hands on the hard floor. You were pretty sure at least one of your wrists was broken, but nobody at the hospital was even slightly concerned about that. Not when they were trying to determine if your babies were okay.

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you had to beg Natasha to leave you and pick Bradley up from the port on base after she met you at the hospital. You had been informed that the babies were fine, but you needed to deliver them now as you were running out of amniotic fluid. They would deliver the beans by cesarean section. They were going to put you under general anesthesia for it.

You cried as they prepared you for surgery. You were alone. Bradley was probably with Phoenix by now, but they wouldn't wait any longer. "Let's get started," your obstetrician said as you settled on your back with your battered wrists as your sides.

"Okay," you agreed, crying as the drugs to put you under started to cloud your vision.

"Sugar!"

You laughed softly at the nurse to your left. "That sounded like my husband," you said with a giggle. Then you caught sight of Bradley running into the room in his khaki uniform, drenched in sweat. "It looks like him, too. Hi, Beer Boy," you said, still laughing as he rushed toward you.

"Sugar," he gasped, eyes wide. But they wouldn't let him touch you as you fell asleep.

Pain. You woke up in so much pain. Everything hurt. You were on your back and the room was dark and you could hear beeping.

"Bradley?" you gasped, trying to sit up, but you couldn't. You started crying and calling his name, and then he was at your side.

"I'm here, Sugar," he whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "It's okay. I love you. You're just waking up again."

"Again?" you asked, completely confused. "Where are the beans?"

"In the nursery," he promised. "They've been in the nursery since yesterday when they were born."

Your head was swimming with information and memories and fear as Bradley left you to turn on the dim hospital room lights. "They were born yesterday?"

"Yes," he told you, making his way back over in his rumpled, wrinkly uniform. "And you had surgery on your left wrist today."

But you were starting to remember more now as your eyes settled on the white board across the room. The birth times and birth weights of the twins written in an unfamiliar scrawl. Baby A and Baby B were born just five minutes apart. You must have been on a lot of pain medication, because surely those were not the names you and Bradley had discussed?

You cleared your throat a few times, and then he was grabbing your cup of water and holding it so you could take a sip through the straw.

"Bradley," you started, but he stopped you with a kiss to your chapped lips.

"I'm so proud of you, Sugar," he said, letting his forehead come to rest against yours. "Do you have any idea how fucking amazing you are?"

"But Beer Boy," you said, glancing at the names written on the board.

"The doctors said the kiddos are doing just fine, and when they wake up hungry in another hour or so, you'll be able to see them."

"But I-"

"And only your left wrist was broken. Your right one will heal on its own. And your abdominal incision will heal up great. And you'll be back to work after the fall term, no problem."

"Bradley!" you said loudly, realizing it was nearly three in the morning as you checked the clock before looking at the names again. "Did you go rogue and name the children without my approval?"

Your husband was silent now, and you could see his cheeks were a little red. "Just the middle names," he muttered softly.

You sighed and read out loud from the board. "Emma Bean Bradshaw and Levi Garcia Bradshaw," you said slowly. "Really?"

He looked so sheepish as your gaze met his again. "I thought they sounded nice," he whispered, and you felt your lips curve into a smile.

"I love them," you said, swallowing hard. "Their names are perfect."

And then you were treated to your husband's lips and mustache as he kissed you all over your face until you were laughing. "I thought you were mad," he said with a sigh of relief.

"Not mad," you promised, letting him adjust your bed and get you more water. He flitted around the room for a few minutes, and then the door opened as two nurses pushed bassinets into the room, and you cried as you looked at your daughter and your son in their matching tie dyed onesies

Bradley picked Emma Bean up in his arms, and he gently held her out so you could give her a kiss. "Here she is. And check it out, Sugar. I've been feeding them and changing them since yesterday!"

You marveled at how he held her and bent to coo at Levi Garcia at the same time. And then a moment later, he was sitting in the chair right next to you, feeding each baby a bottle as he sang his favorite Grateful Dead song.

"Beer Boy," you said with a soft laugh. "You really are the Grateful Dad."

He smiled at you and said, "I haven't been home yet to wash my hideous shirt, but one day soon we can all wear our tie dye together."

You examined the cast on your left wrist and ran you right hand gingerly along your belly which felt horribly tender. "You're going to have to take care of all three of us when we go home."

"I'm up for the challenge," he promised immediately. "Nat's gonna help. And Bob will, too. And we'll be just fine. Better than fine."

Bradley stood carefully and set down Emma Bean, your tiny daughter, along your right side. Bradley didn't move as she snuggled up against you, rather he bent and let you kiss Levi's cheek.

"We'll be perfect," you supplied, smiling at your son and daughter as you listened to your husband sing.

"You don't know how easy it is to love you."

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

I couldn't leave Beer Boy hanging in his ugly Grateful Dad tee without letting him know how was having twins beans. And I just know he's going to take the best care of all three of them. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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