#I'm here at the bar for the drama
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I respect your choice to like the culture and the rituals associated with it, but the day I choose sports over literally anything else to consume is the day the ground turns fetid and all birds fall from the sky
#I just don't like egg ball#Well hold on#I used to play American foot ball did karate and then mma#I had fun with that#I also will play basketball when asked#I'll even play soccer with a smile#But that's always because I enjoy spending time with people or making it more enjoyable for someone else#I'm a giant so I've always been put in sports and told how I should play xyz#But dude. I don't care that I can slap the back board without effort. Watching any sport that isn't combative or performative is just...#Like Stephen Curry has nothing on the amateur figure skater that only fell once during their performance to the song my Immortal#I get along with everyone at the tail gate#I'm here at the bar for the drama#We are here to feast and practice rapport despite the waring houses#The colosseum has become a roaring bore where only the audience raise a brow
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Boston and Ray running into each other during booty calls at Nick and Sand's shared room
#only friends the series#ofts#it's gonna be so funny it HAS to happen#''heyyyyyyyyyy i'm here to see my favorite friend with benef— OH SHIT SORRY. UH. BAR SINGER GUY. DIDN'T KNOW YOU HAD COMPANY.''#''wait ray?? hey man what's up. you're sleeping with the bar singer now?''#''lol yeah i— wait why are you here?? ARE YOU ALSO—''#''oh‚ no i'm banging the phone repair guy''#''oh good i thought— THE PHONE REPAIR GUY??????????''#thai drama#lgbt drama#thai bl#theo.txt#100#500
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genuinely wild that early 2000s rom coms have somehow managed to be better written and more giggle kick feet twirl hair in an hour and a half than bton has managed in 8 one hour long episodes
#i am just#my flabbers are gasted#bton the bar was so low#like absolutely NONE of bridgerton has managed to give me that fizzy hopeful squee feelings#not one goddamn season#(save season 3 episode 4 and then they fucked it up with the following episodes)#but THIS MOVIE FROM 2002#HAS ME ALL GIDDY#WHAT THE FUCK BRIDGERTON#YOU COULD HAVE CLEARED THIS SO EASILY#here lemme fix the problem: hey shonda. . .did you know??? people watch a romance show??? to get invested in love#not petty random drama#oooooh i'm heated#like how did this cheesy rom com with a deeply unlikable male character manage to somehow 1: acknowledge both character's flaws#2: depict how well they work together BECAUSE of said flaws#3: have them spend plenty of time together#4: redeem both characters and#5: have a satisfying ending an hour and forty minutes. . .and Bton can't do it in EIGHT EPISODES THAT ARE AN HOUR EACH#MAKE IT MAKE SENSE
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#the way i came to the bar to get away from my family drama and i ended up sitting next to two old men talking shit about their families 😭😭#like my dude maybe just wash one dish?? i'm over here trying to figure out how to fix my intergenerational trauma and my relationship with#my mom like i'm sure your wife would appreciate it if you do one chore instead of sitting here staring at my legs 😭😭😭#yes i did come back to tumblr dot com bc i'm having a rough go of it and i just wanna vent into the void thank u for asking <3
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Stoic
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/7fc7b932cf4a39d40b97533e920cc0b1/e146e7073bcf94b3-a4/s540x810/fbc7b03d73fa6591fd9928fb041d7ec29462f2f6.jpg)
When Gojo assumes Nanami Kento's lack of PDA for the reader shows a lack of desire for her, a tipsy Kento is quick to correct him.
Warnings: 18+ drabble, Kento goes on a smutty rant
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'A quick drink' after work had soon turned into two, three, four. Shoko took full advantage of the rooftop bar's balcony, smoking and idly chatting; Higuruma and Atsuya gossipped and quipped, snorting into their drinks; Satoru observed Kento and you keenly behind his dark lens; you stood, excusing yourself to the bathroom as Kento gave you a gentle smile.
"I'm sorry," Satoru interrupted loudly when you were gone, his pot boiling over, "I just-- I just don't get it, Nanami." All eyes were on Satoru and Kento now-- Kento, with one thin eyebrow raised in quiet disdain at Satoru, and Satoru, with his elbows planted forward on his knees in challenge.
A few moments of silence. Kento huffed, "Should I be apologising for someth--"
"--you've been together for years," Satoru interrupted, "and I'm just not convinced. She could be-- she could be a coat rack for all the affection you show her, you're supposed to not be able to keep your hands off her--"
"--you want me to grope my fiancée in public, am I correct--"
"--well maybe, anything to show that you love her--"
Kento laughed out loud, deep and humourless, continuing to chuckle into his glass, scoffing to himself; "Love her," he rumbled, swirling his whiskey, amber eyes flickering and carnal in the firelight.
Shoko had turned, smirking, to watch the scene. Atsuya leaned back, scowling, chewing on a toothpick with crossed arms. Hiromi leaned, glimmer-eyed, into the drama, one hand cupping his jaw and the other clasping his wineglass. He picked up the bottle, slowly beginning to pour another glass.
"I don't love her," Kento spat, downing his glass of whiskey in one smooth swallow, hissing and slamming the glass down on the table, "I worship her. I'm obsessed with her."
Satoru was silent, mulish, as Kento continued.
"I would walk through rains of bullets for her," he mused aloud, "I would cut off fingers with blunt knives--"
"Nanami, alright, I'm sorry--"
"Any second I'm not with her," Kento continued, his voice quieter, darker, the group leaning into him, "is a second wasted. I don't know what point there was in the years I spent without her-- probably just there to build me into even a semblance of the man she deserves--"
"--why are we doing this--"
"-- and when I'm not thinking about talking to her, watching her, being near her, holding her, or-- fuck, just having her look at me goes bone-deep...I spend at least eighty-percent of my time thinking about different ways to make her cum--"
Satoru was blushing now, his face in his hands, while the others leaned into Kento's mild breakdown with awe, "--fucking hell Nanami, I didn't mean--"
"I almost died last week, at work," Kento mused, as a laughing Hiromi slid the glass of wine down the table to Kento, which he caught seamlessly, "because I was too busy thinking about how her mouth had felt around my cock the night before, because I was pondering the many applications for my tie, because I was thinking about how incredible she felt underneath me--"
Atsuya and Shoko whispered together, Hiromi now giggling to himself unashamedly; "Oh he's really going for it--" "I know I know, shhh, let him finish--"
"--and I've been sat here with her all evening, resisting the urge to strip her, tie her wrists together and have her ride me until I go fucking blind, all because of social-fucking-propriety, just for some long streak of jizz like you to say I clearly don't love her--"
Satoru had shrunk in on himself now, his soul quietly leaving his body, mortified and put to rights as Kento tsked, swirling his wine before downing that, too. He accepted the bottle Hiromi slid towards him in approval.
"...it really just is rather rude and presumptuous of you, isn't it, Gojo?"
The group sat in stunned silence as you returned, sitting beside Kento and laying a hand on his crossed knees. You felt the bizarre tension; Hiromi unable to conceal a blush as he looked at you, Shoko giving you a knowing smile around her cigarette, Atsuya unable to make eye contact. You smiled uncertainly.
"...what did I miss?"
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Still waters run deep 💀💀💀
#jjk#jjk nanami#kento nanami#kento nanami x you#nanami fluff#higuruma hiromi#kento nanami x reader#nanami kento smut#kento nanami x y/n#jujustu kaisen#nanami headcanons#jujutsu kaisen nanami#jujutsu nanami#kento nanami smut#nanami kento#nanami kento fluff#nanami kento x reader#nanami kento x you#nanami smut#nanami x reader#nanami x y/n#nanami x you#gojo satoru#kusakabe atsuya#shoko ieiri
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do you believe me now? | 8
it's the morning after. spencer reid suspects you’re left with some doubts after losing your virginity to him. he has to figure out why—which is hard when you're keeping secrets.
series masterlist
this series is 18+ warnings/tags: fem!reader, blood related to losing virginity (dramatized for the drama duh), super vague allusions to the BAU being hungover, mild blasphemy if anyone even cares, pondering god bc am I really a fanfic writer if I don’t get a little religious w it, emily AND hotch are here and nobody knows why pls don't pay attention to that bc we are imagining like season 11/12 spencer and I'm inconsistent w who is unit chief in this series apparently, spencer slut lore, spencer emotional wounds lore, Spencer is a traumatic situationship survivor a/n: DADDYS HOMEEEEE (me and dybmn not spencer) anyway missed these little guys and am happy to be writing for them again!! idk what my upload schedule will becoming back to this but pls lmk what u think of this part, I have no idea how you will respond but I'm being brave and ily
Friday morning Spencer comes into the office fifteen minutes late (he tried his best), in yesterday’s suit (everything in his go-bag had been too wrinkled), hair messy (no doubt from your fingers), coffee cold (he’s exhausted) and overall, in an excellent mood.
The rest of the team isn’t faring quite as well—Spencer gathers they stayed at the bar celebrating Derek’s birthday a lot later than he had. It shows through sallow skin and dark circles and the grimaces he receives on the way to his desk that are probably supposed to approximate good morning’s.
Honestly, he doesn’t mind the dull mood—he doesn’t need the teasing and the prying questions that would be sure to come if his co-workers were at peak performance and were able to put together his unusually perky demeanor and disheveled appearance. At least Prentiss doesn’t appear to be paying him any mind. She’s always the one who can read him like an open book and has no shame in doing so aloud. Echoes from years of, ‘so who was the lucky girl, last night, Reid?’ Still ring through his mind and it’s like he can feel her finger prodding at his side.
The Emily of it all makes him smile, though the rest of the memory leaves a metal tang in his mouth. Back in those days, there were sometimes a lot of girls, but even then he was consciously aware he wasn’t necessarily doing something he enjoyed. He spent a lot of time, actually, staring at his bedroom ceiling, psychoanalyzing himself. Repetition compulsion. The insatiable desire to repeat or reenact emotionally painful experiences. Maybe he thought if he could teach himself to subsist off of emotionless hookups, he could in some way heal from his experience with Elle. Though, he’s hesitant to think of it now as healing—it’s not like he didn’t know what he was doing when a few nights after she said I don’t feel the same I’m sorry he opened up his front door for her. It’s not like he didn’t know what he was doing every time after that. So, maybe heal isn’t the right word, when one doesn’t have the right to be injured. Or when the injuries are, in a manner of speaking, self-inflicted. At the very least he could tell himself that this time around, meaningless sex was a choice he was making for himself. Spencer hates when things just happen to him.
But you—you’re different. You were a complete surprise. At first, a cute and unexpected complication. After a few painful and short-lived attempts at real relationships, Spencer decided he was simply not to be trusted with emotional intimacy of any kind, including that which inevitably develops from physical intimacy, and would resign himself to a life of celibacy. He tried not to like you, but you were just so damn likable. Magnetic, to use a trite and perfectly honest turn of phrase. All that to say: he doesn’t regret you at all. There is no filter of putrid shame or anguish over his memories of last night.
Just you. Perfect. Starlit. Glowing softly around the edges like you’re not even real.
I love you I love you I love you. A hymn with no melody. You, always reminding him exactly why he is decidedly not a man of faith. At least, not in the typical sense of the word.
How God became the idol and not Mary is lost on him. That’s why, Spencer supposes, tapping an eraser on his desk, marriage and sex were forbidden for so many ecclesiastics. After all, if they knew what it was to love a woman, specifically to love you, he doubts they’d feel like spending much time in the pulpit. Love. Humans had that long before they had any gods. It’s primeval. It’s the most natural manifestation of devotion and worship. It will always have come first. Isn’t it a better kind of religion when a man realizes he can kneel in front of a woman rather than an altar?
A heavy hand falling on his shoulder jolts him from his theological musings—which are in all practicality useless. What’s that saying about blasphemous thinking on the FBI’s dime? Right. There isn’t one.
“I’m scared to ask,” Morgan says as Spencer jumps slightly in his chair.
“What?” He mumbles, looking up from the document he’d only sort of been reading.
Morgan just looks at him, strong brows furrowed and a ditch between them, angles his head and glances to the side as if Spencer is missing the obvious. He almost follows Derek’s eye-line. When that doesn’t work, Derek just says your name. Like your status is somehow in question.
“Did you two work things out, or not? It looked pretty bad when you guys were leaving last night.”
People often misunderstand an eidetic memory. It’s not like things can’t slip his mind—Spencer can actually be quite forgetful. It’s made worse by the fact that last night at the bar feels like months ago. For a moment, he has no idea what Derek is referring to.
“Oh. Oh! Right, we—right. Yeah, we, uh—we worked it out.” Before Derek has a chance to read his face, no doubt as incriminating as his fumbled speech and an ill-timed throat clearing, he turns back to his paperwork. “Thanks for keeping an eye on her at the bar. I appreciate that.”
It’s quiet for a moment, and Spencer’s lips twist as he can feel the incoming inappropriate comment.
“Is that the same suit you were wearing last night?” Morgan quips, his wide grin audible. Spencer can practically hear the cartoon gleam of his friend’s bleached teeth.
“No.”
“You dog.” Derek is still smiling as he claps Spencer’s shoulder again. “What did you say to her that worked so well?”
Spencer clears his throat again and tries to look extremely involved in logging onto his computer, speaking quickly as if he’s beyond disinterested and can’t wait for the exchange to be over.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m actually trying to work so if you wouldn’t mind going back to your desk that would be great.”
“Uh-huh. I’ll let you work. But I see you, pretty boy.”
Spencer tries not to blush like a teenager as he refuses to look up.
Naturally the rest of the day is a slow descent into dread and madness as all those good feelings with which Spencer had started his morning begin to harden into something much worse, chilled by your lack of response to the text he sent you earlier. Which was essentially a rehashing of the note he left on your bedside table.
Maybe it was too much. It should’ve been one or the other, but not both. He’s overwhelmed you.
Okay, so maybe this is what religion is for. A last ditch effort when you can’t talk to your girlfriend so you have to try talking to God.
But Spencer knows you, and he knows something is wrong. You wouldn’t just ice him out so blatantly if everything was okay. He catches himself glancing up toward Hotch’s window to see if the blinds are drawn, and considers faking an illness to get out of work early and go check on you. But he powers through the remaining hour and a half that he is obligated to stay at work, he bounces a pencil between his fingers, drums at his desk, and gets nothing else done. As soon as 4:59 rolls around, he’s out.
Spencer can hear shuffling on the other side of your door as he stands in the hallway. A pot clatters. The walls hum with the rush of water through the pipes to your sink. He knocks, relieved that you’re okay and at the same time struggling with that weight on his chest—something cold that leans over his shoulders and whispers into his ear—so she just didn’t want to talk to you.
Suddenly all sound from inside your unit ceases. For a few long seconds, Spencer’s confusion only grows exponentially.
“Who is it?” You finally call, voice wavering. Also odd. Usually you just open the door.
“Um… Spencer?”
“As in my boyfriend Spencer?”
He frowns, bottom lip jutting out ever so slightly as he tries to decipher your sudden paranoia. “I hope so?”
The click and jingle of several locks precipitates your much-anticipated reveal.
“Come in,” you say breathlessly, more harried than usual and not giving him the tender greeting he’s selfishly become accustomed to—barely even giving him a second to look at you. But he steps inside, watching on in concern as you do up every single lock—the one on the knob, the deadbolt, even the chain. Is this really all because of his little comment last night about anyone being able to get in? He certainly hopes not. He didn’t mean to terrify you.
When you finally turn, he takes stock of your appearance. Big hoodie, pajama pants patterned in little hearts. Hair pulled back hastily. Your skin is sort of dull where you normally glow. But you’re beautiful, like always. It always aches just a little bit to look at you. Spencer’s always been like that. Going breathless at a particularly good piece of art or pretty girl. Like yourself. Mostly you.
You quickly turn to hurry back into the kitchen. “I was trying to make dinner, I—”
“Hold on,” he interrupts, stopping you with a hand on your stomach that is so non-demanding it’s really mostly a suggestion. He tries to clear his head, though you make it hard. “You didn’t talk to me all day. Not that you have to, but… I was worried.”
You glance at the floor and mumble, “I lost my phone,” with so much embarrassment he believes you’re telling the truth. “Did you, um—did you text me?”
Insecurity. Spencer knows well what it looks like on you. He softens. You weren’t ignoring him—but you’d been left in a vulnerable state without any ability to contact him or anyone. That couldn’t have been comfortable.
“Of course I did.” He pauses to observe you. Still anxious. Still prepared to run at any second. Something, and he’s not sure what, did a number on you today. Maybe it’s sheer exhaustion, maybe it was the anxiety of not having your phone. But he has to figure out what it is so he can undo it. “What? What’s wrong?”
He watches your breathing pause—watches your eyes gloss over with tears and a frown contort your features. Oh, god. He’s done something terribly wrong. It’s been thirty seconds and he’s done something wrong.
“Can we sit down? I don’t feel very good.”
“Yeah. Yeah, we can. Whatever you need.”
You cast a baleful look at him and now he has to wonder what that means. Spencer sets his bag on a pulled out dining chair and follows you to the couch where you settle on opposite sides—you’re curled up in the far corner, hugging a pillow to your chest with your legs folded in front of you. Spencer’s heart is beating fast. He doesn’t know what’s going on with you and he can’t figure it out just by looking and you don’t seem eager to tell him.
He’s exhausted all his typical ways of collecting information, and now he’s at a loss.
Eventually, the anxiety comes bubbling up.
“Please talk to me,” he pleads. And you do. Almost instantly, like he stepped on some sort of landmine.
“I know it’s my own fault for not having my phone on me and not being able to see your texts, but it really sucks that I had to find out from my creepy neighbor that you snuck out in the middle of the night without saying goodbye.”
The whiplash is so strong it’s almost a broken neck. Spencer reels, frowning deeply as he tries to process your impromptu speech, the sudden confrontation. What creepy neighbor?
“I… didn’t. I went to grab my stuff from the car around one, but I came right back. I left at 7:30. You don’t remember me saying goodbye?”
Your brow furrows, and your eyes dart over the design on the rug like you’re watching memories go by. He sees it in your eyes when you recall some hazy image of him holding your face, kissing your cheek more times than was necessary and whispering sweet things against your lips before he had to go. You shrink into the couch, clearly struggling under the combined weight of relief and embarrassment.
“I forgot. I thought… he said…”
A moment passes and it’s clear you’ve abandoned the sentence. Spencer is concerned about this shadowy male figure who put malicious untruths into your head. He slides his hand under yours and twines your fingers together. Finally, finally you meet his gaze.
“Someone made you believe I left without saying goodbye.”
And he almost wishes you weren’t looking at him as more tears pool before falling down your cheeks. You nod, and don’t make a sound.
“No, honey. I didn’t do that. I’m sorry that’s what you’ve been thinking all day.”
“I was worried that you… or that I wasn’t…”
His chest aches. You’d woken up alone, no recollection of his goodbye, and without the comfort of even a text.
“You didn’t see my note?”
The way you look at him then is heartbreaking. Eyes wide and wet and sad, lip trembling.
“You left a note?”
Murphy’s Law. Anything that can go wrong, will.
It must’ve fallen off the bedside table, or maybe he just hadn’t positioned it obviously enough.
A lost phone, a missed note, and not even a memory of his departure. While none of these things are verifiably Spencer’s fault, he feels so, so guilty.
“I did,” Spencer says gently, scooting closer and pulling you into him, head pressed to his shoulder as you try not to cry, and he rubs your back slowly.
Your sulky words are muffled by his shirt. “I didn’t see it. What did it say?”
“A lot of very nice things about you,” he whispers. Spencer thought maybe he could get away with giving you all the sincere compliments you can’t accept face to face through a note you could read while he wasn’t around. That way you couldn’t refute them or stop him. It was a good plan.
He feels the sigh of relief leaving your body against his neck.
“I didn’t know.”
“I know. I’m sorry. That’s not… I should’ve just stayed. This is my fault.”
You keep your cheek pressed to his shoulder as you speak.
“It’s not. You have a job. A really important job. You can’t just call out whenever I want you around.”
Logically he knows you’re right, but he doesn’t always think logically around you.
“I could’ve made it work. I could’ve come in late, or the team could’ve called me if there was a case, which there wasn’t—”
“Spencer, it’s okay. It’s not your fault. Don’t worry about it.”
He pulls back slightly, frowning at your tone. You do look relieved, much less plagued than you’d been when he arrived minutes ago, but something heavy still weighs you down. The burden of it darkens your eyes and dulls your expression. When he cups your cheek, you glance up at him, and then away once more.
He speaks softly. “Is that all you wanted to tell me?”
Again he earns a moment of your eye contact, but it’s fleeting. He watches the words spin around your head as you try to figure out what to do with them—and then choose to remain silent.
There is in fact something you’re keeping from him.
Spencer hates to use work tactics on you, but he doesn’t speak either, hoping that you’ll feel compelled to fill the silence with the truth. Knowing how you’re not entirely comfortable with quiet.
And you try, lips parting and the sound delayed as you wrestle with something you clearly don’t know how to talk about.
“I… my neighbor,” you say, frowning like you don’t quite know why you’re speaking. “The one who told me he saw you leaving in the middle of the night. He also—he said…”
Spencer brushes hair away from your cheek with a thumb, stroking the high point in gentle passes as your words taper off. Now that he’s thinking about it, he did encounter a man in a dumpy robe standing in the courtyard and smoking a cigarette when he left you tangled in sheets and dozing contentedly to get his bag from the car. In fact, they rode back up to your floor in the elevator in mostly awkward silence. Spencer was sure his outfit told a story—shirt untucked and hastily buttoned only partway, no belt, shoes barely tied, duffel slung over his shoulder—he wasn’t really expecting to run into anyone at such an hour, to be honest, but he hadn’t particularly cared what this man thought of him, so it didn’t cross his mind again.
Now he remembers.
Long night, huh? I remember those days.
It was an inappropriate comment, but given his job he’s used to ignoring those. Mostly his mind had been preoccupied with the idea of returning to you, who gave him such a warm and sleepy welcome when he climbed carefully back into your arms several minutes later that it was like he’d never known anyone else at all.
Now he resents that he hadn’t said anything, he hates the idea that you spoke to this man and he said something to upset you and Spencer wasn’t there. Usually he tries not a judge a book by its cover (metaphorically, of course) but he’s been around enough bad men to know when he’s looking at one. Last night he hadn’t even been cognizant enough to realize they got off on the same floor.
“What did he say, angel?” Spencer whispers, incapable of being anything but soft with you at the moment. Even though he senses something a lot like a tide of preemptive anger rising in his chest, painted over with layers of anxiety and guilt. He should’ve found a way to stay with you this morning.
You sniffle and let your head fall again, forehead resting against his collar. Instinctively his hand slides to the back of your neck and even at the awkward angle he finds a way to press his lips to yours hair. “Can we talk about it later? I don’t feel good.”
If it’s making you this uncomfortable, Spencer really wants to know what passed between you and this neighbor. In fact, he’d be willing to bet a lot of your strange behavior this evening stems from something that occurred which you don’t feel comfortable telling him yet. But he manages to bite back anymore questions. He doesn’t want to make you feel interrogated.
“Yeah, you mentioned that,” he says eventually, kindly, hand tracing down the length of your back and up again. “Why don’t you feel good?”
He doesn’t miss the way you reach up to discreetly wipe your cheek. But he won’t make you talk about anything you don’t want to talk about until you’re ready, and it seems like you’re already having a rough day. Which is not what he wanted. This is so far from what he wanted for you. He’s cursing himself for how he handled this whole situation.
“Um, I just… I don’t know. I feel… bad. I’m sorry I’m being so weird.”
“You’re not being weird, honey. You had a hard day. You’re having a normal reaction to an abnormal set of circumstances.”
You sit up, sniffing and wiping your tears like you can just make the whole thing go away.
“No, I am. I am. It’s all okay now, right? So I don’t know why I feel like this. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
He watches helplessly. “Nothing is wrong with you. We’ve… it’s been a big couple of days. Mostly good, but I think you’re probably really tired. Emotionally and physically.”
You bury your face in your hands and nod silently. He still feels like he’s shooting in the dark, but you’re not entirely comforted yet, and it’s killing him.
“Whatever you’re feeling is okay. If this is… about last night, or this morning, or something entirely different—regardless of what it’s about, you’re not going to be… in trouble with me if you’re having complicated feelings. And you can talk to me. But it doesn’t have to be right now. We don’t have to figure it out all at once, okay?”
You press the heels of your palms into your eyes, and for a moment, his words sink into silence. When you do raise your head, nodding, the evidence of your discomfort is all over your face—reddened eyes, cheeks polished with wiped tears. But you take a deep breath and try to project whatever it is you think he wants to see.
The back of your hand is soft under his thumb as he sweeps it, as if he could draw forth more information that way. People speak when they’re ready.
“Is there anything I can do?” He tries, all ramped brow and soft spoken.
You’re looking at where he’s tracing swirls on your hand as you swallow and blink the last of your tears away.
“Um… you can say no, but—do you think it would be okay for you to maybe stay again tonight?”
Spencer sucks in a breath, painfully aware that he’s about to let you down.
“I… I haven’t been home in a week. I’ve been wearing this suit for two days straight and I don’t think I would want to share a bed with me again until I shower.” He watches you wilt and lifts a hand to stroke your hair. “But I do want to spend time with you… do you maybe want to come stay with me instead? No pressure—”
“Okay. Yes. Is that okay?”
Spencer’s brow knits. You seem even more enthused about the idea of going to his apartment, like now that the opportunity has presented itself you can’t wait to get out. Maybe you have some sort of black mold problem.
“Of course. Do you wanna grab a few things and then we can go?”
“Um—I also haven’t showered today. Do you mind waiting?”
“Sure. Or you could use mine. With supervision, this time.”
Spencer is attempting to make a joke about your unplanned (and unmoderated) stay at his apartment last week after he left—but looking at your face now he’s wondering if he touched a nerve.
“Like… one at a time? Or…”
He thought maybe you’d be more comfortable around him after last night—and it’s not like he hadn’t seen you naked before then, either.
“Do you wanna do it one at a time?” He asks gently.
There’s this sparkly sort of longing in your eyes that he’s seen before, but you tamp it down like always. You’re so cautious. About everything. Even the things you’re curious about. It’s sweet and a little sad.
“I’ve never… showered with anyone.”
The corner of Spencer’s mouth twitches as he pushes hair over your shoulder. “I know. You don’t have to. We could save like 100 gallons of water depending on how long your showers typically last, but—”
“Spencer—”
“Sorry, sorry—I didn’t—I didn’t mean it like that. I’m not trying to pressure you. You absolutely can take your own shower. You can go first so you get the hot water.”
“No,” you laugh, and it’s like a sparkling cloud of gold has settled around you, fractals bouncing off the shine of your cheeks and eyes—the sound of your laughter, the look of it, is such beautiful relief he can’t believe how good it feels, but it fades from you quickly. “It sounds… I think I want to, I just… I don’t wanna, like… do… anything.”
For a split second your veiled language mystifies him and then he realizes what you’re trying to say without saying. Something has changed since yesterday, when you brazenly referred to it as fucking, and today, when you can’t even say sex. He’s gotten as far as it being something your creepy neighbor said. Maybe. He needs to know what.
But that’s not the topic at hand.
“We don’t have to. I didn’t mean to imply that we would do anything like that. I don’t expect anything from you.”
You swallow.
“Okay. I wasn’t sure.”
About what?
He says your name. No response.
“Can you look at me, please?”
It takes you a moment, and your head raises like you might need some oil in your hinges, but eventually you manage. Spencer hopes the way he’s rubbing your leg is comforting.
“You know I’m never, ever going to make you do anything you don’t want to do, right?”
To his horror, your answer isn’t an immediate and resounding yes. Instead you look back down and cover his hand with your own, fiddling nervously with his fingers.
Eventually, you reply, “Yeah… I know. I just thought… I’m not sure. Maybe it’s supposed to be different now.”
“It doesn’t have to be. Nothing has to be different. We’re still doing everything on your schedule, okay? And as for the next few days, at least—I think it might be a good idea to take sex off the table altogether.”
Your eyes narrow and you hesitate. “Why?”
“Because I don’t want you worrying about it. And I don’t think it would feel good for you right now. I think there are things we need to talk about, but… we’ve probably tried enough for a while, hm?”
You give him a shy nod and hum your agreement. For a moment he lets his hand linger on your leg and then pulls it back.
“Okay. Do you want my help packing a bag, or should I wait out here?”
“You can wait. It should only take a minute.” You pause, halfway up to look pensive. “Um, Spencer—do you think it would be okay if maybe I… if I stayed tonight and tomorrow? I just—I wanna get out of here, for a bit.”
He frowns but doesn’t hesitate. “Of course. Can I ask why?”
“It’s just… suffocating sometimes,” you call as you turn and hurry down the hallway to the bedroom. “Feels like my neighbors are on top of me, like they’re… breathing down my neck, half the time.”
Sure, bigger apartments exist—but it’s not like you’re in a studio. And you’ve never mentioned feeling that way before. That bad feeling is starting to come back—like you’re not telling him something he needs to know. But is it worse to let you deal with it yourself until you’re ready to talk or to force it from you?
A few minutes later you return, a duffel of your own over your shoulder and full to bursting.
“So I’m an idiot. My phone was literally in the pocket of my jeans on the floor.” You drop the bag as you bend down by the door to pull on your favorite slippers. “Oh—I think I forgot my charger, can you grab it? It’s by my bed.”
Spencer of course obliges, and is secretly pleased to be in your room again, in the light this time, so he can see better. It’s sweet. The pictures on the walls, the plants and the knickknacks and the sticky notes scrawled with messy reminders on every surface and the sweater hanging over the back of a chair—the one you’d been wearing at the cafe all those months ago—it all feels so you. He wonders why the two of you don’t spend more time here.
He lets himself linger for only a minute before remembering his task, but as he reaches down to unplug your charger, whatever dopey smile he’d been wearing evaporates. The sheets have been stripped from your bed, and he can see why—there’s a striking stain of dried blood, and several surrounding dots, soaked into the mattress. Not much, but enough to make him feel horrendously guilty. He cringes, imagining what it must’ve been like to wake up all alone to nothing but your own blood. Poor girl. Of course he’d noticed some, last night when he was doing his best at cleaning you up, but it had been dark, and he was exhausted, and he hadn’t done enough.
“Where’d your sheets go, baby?” He asks once back by the front door with his own bag on his shoulder, setting a gentle hand on your lower back and holding out your charger for you. You jump slightly, and he makes circles on your back, wishing there was something he could do to settle you.
“Oh! They—they got ruined. I threw them out. It’s fine. I have others.”
So you didn’t have enough energy this morning to walk a few feet to your shower, but stripping your bed, getting dressed, and walking down to the trash chute at the end of the hall had been top of your priority list.
You swallow as he undoes the locks and holds the door open for you, and pretend like you’re not doing surveillance to either side as you stand in the hallway, locking your door again like you can’t get out of here fast enough.
Spencer casts a sidelong glance at you and wonders if you’re intentionally avoiding eye contact. He tries not to think like a profiler. He tries not to assign meaning to your actions, but he can’t help it. He can’t not notice.
He can’t not worry.
And he can’t not wonder what you’re not telling him.
-
part nine
#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fic#spencer reid smut#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid angst#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds fic#criminal minds smut#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds fanfic
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University AU
Bi-Sexual weirdo Eddie Munson approaches Robin in a gay bar. It's her first time and she's so excited. She's looking around all excited with hair she definitely cut herself, wearing a cool blazer that's she's decorated with chains and pins and stuff. And she just looks cool and fun. And listen he knows he's probably not her target demographic, but he sees her blush as he approaches.
The second she hears his voice, realizes he's not a woman, she loudly complains about being hit on by a man in a GAY bar. Prompting her friend who has been leaning against the bar getting them drinks to turn. Eddie's mid apology, because that's fair, when he sees him and just shyits right the fuck up.
Cool girl, sure whatever, this man is an angel. So he immediately switches to hitting on Steve, asks him to dance and Robin says "oh, Steves not-"
But Steve cuts her off with a quick "sure." And shoves the drinks in her hands. He leaves Robin with her mouth hanging open as he follows what is probably the prettiest person he's seen in real life to the dance floor.
(Robins fine, she uses Steve's drink to charm a very pretty girl who she dances with and has a great time that night.)
Steve doesn't even speed run his sexuality crisis, he sees it coming for him and is like 'nah, I'm fine actually. I just like pretty people and curly hair.' and the crisis pouts and moves on.
I'm thinking there's probably drama. Like Steve's all in, because he's a sweet romantic idiot. But Eddie panics and is like "you don't even know what you like in men, you can't just decide I'm it."
Which Steve totally can, but Eddie scares easy, he is the opposite of Tom Petty in this regard.
So they split up with the understanding Steves gonna date around a while and keep Eddies number. And like three months go by and Steve doesn't know if he's allowed to call yet because he hasn't managed to get past the date part to the sleeping with other people part because he doesn't like anyone as much as Eddie, but Eddie said he should try some stuff before commiting to the first man that asked him to dance.
Eddie is beating himself up because it's for sure too soon, like crazy too soon, but maybe he loves Steve? And he literally yelled at him to go sleep with other people?? Why did he do that??
I have a little scene in my head where Gareth see Steve in a club and calls Eddie like "dude, he's here, with a date. Like a really really hot date." And sitcom style shenanigans ensue with Eddie running interference on Steve's date long distance via Gareth.
Like they've been apart probably twice as long as they were kinda together and they're being so dumb about it.
#i woke up from a nap to write this out#i remember sleepy me being like 'lera read over this when we're a person again '#and i saved it as a draft#jokes on sleepy me i didnt change anything#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#robin buckley#modern au i guess
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do you have any silco x reader fic recs? both on ao3 and tumblr?
Oh boy do I.
I have zero time for reading these days (sob sob) so I'm sadly not at all familiar with any new fics post S2 being aired. But let me lay before you a sumptuous feast; lovingly prepared by the old guard of the Silco fucker society.
Reader's responsibility applies - please check tags etc etc..
Flawless - @a-gal-with-taste
An apt title, for Gal's writing is, indeed, flawless. Silco x Sex Worker!Reader. Absolutely brutal and beautiful - to me, Gal is the Angela Carter of the Silco fandom.
Here be Dragons // Hic Sunt Dracones - @sherwood-forests
This will always be one of my top recommends for a Silco x Reader fic. It's unlike anything else that I've seen in the fandom, and it reminds me of one of my favourite books Uprooted by Naomi Novik. Gives me the cosy feels.
Penance - @astudyincontrasts
Hands down the hottest, sexiest Silco fic in my opinion. If you enjoyed Fleabag or want to bang that priest from Midnight Mass then you need to get on this fic ASAP. To this day I cannot set foot in a church without getting horny. Thanks Study.
Secret Ingredient - @sweatandwoe
This is the Silco fic that made me want to write my own. DWM exists because of Sweaty. Domestic romance and drama of the absolute best kind.
Come Morning - @chickenparm
Parm has so many Silco fics and they are all incredible and required reading for the fandom. But I've chosen this one because it's so incredibly real and human, and will rip your heart to shreds.
Swapped - @silcoitus
I love seeing my blorbos in Situations™ and this is one hell of a Situation™ to find oneself in. Fun, funny, and full of tension. I get the pleasure of beta-reading this one, and I always have the best time squawking at Coi in the comments bar on google docs.
Go, Team! - @vasiktomis
This is actually Marcus x Reader x Silco and it's fucking genius. Vas is a genius and a pervert and I love them and they're my role model. Everyone absolutely has the right not to engage with content that they're not interested in but also if you don't read this fic then you're a coward.
Bend But Not Break - @constantfragmentation
This is a Jane Eyre retelling in the form of a Silco x Reader fic. Yeah that's right. Regency Silco. Emotional constipation cranked up to the max and coats with tails? Yes please. Ensure that you're near a fainting couch whilst reading because you will swoon.
Art in the Heart - @juniper-sunny
Juni was out here giving Young Revolutionary Silco his time in the spotlight long before he was ever animated. If you're a new to the fandom and have come here specifically because of young Silco then AITH is required reading. Head over to Juni's you'll be fed good.
To The Depths - @cognacandlilac
Full disclosure, I haven't actually had the chance to read this fic yet. But it has been on my TBR for an embarrassingly long time and every time I see a snippet I'm like "hot damn I need to get on this pronto" because I just know I'm going to be totally obsessed and consumed by it.
I've only picked one fic for each of the above but I would honestly recommend just tearing through the entirety of their fic lists because there are some absolute masterpieces in there. This is also far from an extensive list - there are so many incredible writers in the fandom and I'm so sorry for anyone I've missed off. I say this with my whole heart - the Silco fandom is easily one of the most talented and skilled corners of the internet. We may be fairly small in numbers compared to other characters/fandoms, but by God the art and stories we have are platinum quality.
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Scandal!┃CL16-MV1
I just want to say I love w all my heart charlotte so I'm not trying to hate on her, she looks very friendly but I just used her for her pics with charles
Also I had this idea on kylie and timmy's ''relationship rules rumours'' she put on him, poor timmy😭😭
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f1_gossip
Liked by 183,573 others
f1_gossip According to reports, there is drama in the paddock! It all started when rumors came out of testimonies close to the couple where Aurora (Charles' new girlfriend) has imposed ''rules'' in her relationship with the driver!
"First, Aurora wanted him to cut ties with all of his exes, especially with the female driver, with whom he is still very close", Let's remember that Leclerc and Y/LN dated for almost 3 and a half years but they separated and they remained on friendly terms, before this they had been friends since childhood and the model ''did not like that'', they tell us.
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username girl what the fuck??
username stop, pls you're literally a ''model'' bc your mommy knew people and got u a job, on the other hand, Y/N has trained her entire life for that sport and she is super talented and has achieved all that by herself, stop embarrassing yourself.
username IF SHE MAKES SURE WE NO LONGER HAVE MOMENTS BETWEEN CHARLES AND Y/N, SHE WON'T LIVE TO TELL ABOUT IT FRRRR
ynln
Liked by maxverstappen1, redbullracing and 1,845,295 others
ynln Made some great memories in Miami, had dinner w friends, and podium celebration this weekend, see u on Imola <3
lewishamilton fun night!
username I miss charles' comments on her posts 😭
maxverstappen1 🤘!!!
landonorris why wasn't I invited?
ynln bc I hate u
landonorris lol wth? I literally apologized 5 times for laughing at your pic,pls :(
redbullracing 👏👏
charles_leclerc
Liked by scuderiaferrari, aurora.official, and 1,642,795 others
charles_leclerc A little bit of blue and leo 😘👑Miami, thank you
aurora.official SO PROUD OF YOU BABY!!!😍😍
username girl okey we got it, now stop.pls
username PLS- THE WAY HE CROPPED HER FROM THE PHOTOS 🤣🤣🤣
scuderiaferrari blue suits you 🩵
username you look so good on blue cha 😭💗
cha_yn
Liked by 843,537 others
cha_yn I miss my parents, pls they were so in love 😭😭💔
username the way charlie looked at her
username my man was so deeply in love....
username she used to shine more when she was with him :(
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username Ok max having a crush on yn wasn't on my bingo card this year
username ok but what a great and hot couple they would both be
username I SEE IT 👀
rebullracing
Liked by ynln, maxverstappen1, and 739,539 others
redbullracing P1 and P2!!! What an amazing race for our team, very proud of max and yn!
ynln ❤️🩹
maxverstappen yes baby!
username did anyone saw charles' face when yn and max celebrated together??? no?? okey
f1_gossip
Liked by 429,683 others
f1_gossip Apparently after the great victory of both Redbulls, both went out to celebrate at a bar and sources claim that both were "very comfortable around each other", what do we think of this?
username nooo, I was still hoping charles and yn came back :(
username I'm here for their reputation era
username Idk if I want to be yn or max
aurora.official
Liked by charles_leclerc, herbestfriend and 284,626 others
aurora.official My baby got P3!! I'm so proud of him❤️❤️
username girl,do you at least know something about the sport?
aurora.official duh
username :/
maxverstappen1 has posted a story!
caption: yn send me this pic earlier today and thought I needed to show u, do we look alike?
charles_leclerc has posted a story!
music: I bet you think about me-Taylor Swift
twitter
f1_gossip
Liked by 947,594 others
f1_gossip What the hell happened between these two?? In the first practice of the weekend both drivers fought! According to some fans who came today, Charles approached Max furiously while he was yelling at him and Max wasn't far behind! What could have happened between these two?
username STOP WHAT IF IT'S FOR YN!!?!??!?!
username WHAT IS HAPPENING
username what the fuck 😭😭😭
Part2
#f1 fanfic#formula one fic#formula one fanfiction#formula 1 fic#formula 1 fanfic#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc imagines#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc#f1 fluff#f1#f1 fic#f1 fanfiction#f1 fandom#f1 instagram au#f1 imagine#f1 one shot#f1 x you#formula 1 x reader#formula one x reader#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 angst#formula 1 x you#formula 1 fluff#formula one#formula one x you#f1 x reader#max verstappen x you
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˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ Too Bad;
Pairing; fem!reader and jealous husband!Sunghoon Synopsis; Sunghoon insisted that you go out with the girls to relax, but when something happens at the bar, he can't control his jealousy and possessiveness over you. Genre; Suggestive; Basead on the lyrics "well its too bad, you're married to me..." by Deft Tones!! Warning; Intense make out; wondering fingers.......; possessive!sunghoon; My Masterlist;
A/N: I wrote this in one go. Literally. I like it a lot, I hope you guys do it too!!! These lyrics always make me feel some type of way, so I decided to write about it ;) Reblogs and likes are always appreciated. Thank you so much!!
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/d935b3af3884672a579fe3b7c0710c3d/a07417c36476d4b0-d5/s540x810/1d58bee4e1ee5c595eb0f3bc972df30f760daab0.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/8047fe43a0d415885731e693d353e8c2/a07417c36476d4b0-c1/s540x810/15967cac0a3e9a5b58faa4384096dea70a5e07b3.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/e724b8b47aa89c740e24ec2afbe489ec/a07417c36476d4b0-75/s540x810/284917ed3b8c172954415f4e44913c9042131348.jpg)
You didn't even want to go, but Sunghoon insisted that a night out with friends would help you relax. Like him, you are introverted and prefer avoiding noisy, crowded spaces. Still, feeling an unusual surge of extroversion, you agreed to a girl's night out with your husband's partners. Jake's wife was overjoyed, and Ni-ki's girlfriend thought it was the perfect opportunity for everyone to unwind.
But the evening turned out to be far from enjoyable.
You picked a sleek black sleeveless dress that stopped just above your thighs, its elegant cut emphasizing your figure. Your cherry-red hair was styled into soft curls, cascading effortlessly over your shoulders. For makeup, you drew a sharp black eyeliner and choose a crimson color to paint your lips, adding a touch of drama to your natural glow.
As you leaned toward the mirror to fasten your silver necklace, you noticed Sunghoon standing in the doorway. His intense brown eyes roved over you, taking in every detail of your appearance. It had been some time since he'd seen you like this; your hectic schedules had left little room for moments like these. His gaze lingered on your waist and hips, and for a brief second, he debated stopping you from leaving altogether.
"Do I look alright?" you asked softly, forcing a small smile under his piercing stare. The iconic red bottoms added to your sexiness, making you feel even more alluring.
"Alright?" Sunghoon raised an eyebrow, stepping closer. "You look stunning, my love." His voice was deep and full of reverence as his strong arms wrapped around your waist. "And you're even wearing my favorite perfume," he murmured, his face dipping towards your exposed neck.
Tilting your head to the side, you allowed him access, feeling his nose graze your skin as he inhaled your scent. His hands tightened around your waist, and his lips brushed against your sensitive spots, sending chills through your body. The occasional press of his warm lips against your neck made your pulse race.
"Hoon..." You breathed, your voice shaky under his spell. "I don't need to go -" you started, your heart pounding as his lips traveled to your collarbones, teasing with gentle nibbles. "I could stay with you, and we could finish this.." You pleaded, barely able to resist the desire building between you.
But Sunghoon knew you too well. When overwhelmed, you often withdrew, which was precisely why he and Jake's wife had been so excited when you agreed to go out. Sensing your hesitation, he was determined not to let you back out now.
"No, princess," he whispered against your skin, his tone firm but affectionate. "You need this. Jake's wife will be disappointed if you don't show up. Don't mind me— I'm just enjoying the view."
With that, he pulled away, his lips leaving your neck as his hands released their hold on your hips. You were left breathless. He towers over you, even with your heels on. His messy black hair is pushed back, and his white sleeveless shirt highlights his defined arms, which are folded across his chest. You look up at him with pleading eyes, a tactic that usually melts him— but this time, he remains unyielding.
"Go have fun with your friends. I'll be here waiting for you to come back," Sunghoon says in a low, enticing tone as he steps out of the bedroom, turning his broad back to you. You inhale deeply, the warmth of his earlier teasing still clinging to you. Exhaling slowly, you grab your purse and head to the living room to say your goobyes.
You find him sprawled on the sofa, legs apart in his usual confident posture, his attention seemingly fixed on the TV. Though he hears your footsteps approaching, he pretends not to notice, knowing the act will frustrate you.
"I'm leaving now, hubby," you say softly, stepping in front of him and blocking his view of the screen. He smirks, arms still crossed, his playful demeanor unchanged.
You lean forward until your face is level with his. His eyes roam from your wavy hair to your crimson lips, then lower to your neckline. The way you're leaning offers an enticing glimpse of your collarbones and chest, and you catch the way he swallows hard at the sight before meeting your gaze.
Slowly, you brush a light kiss against his lips, leaving him momentarily stunned as you straighten up with a knowing smirk. Without another word, you walk toward the door, your heels clicking softly against the floor. His gaze lingers on your retreating figure, even as the door closes behind you, leaving him alone to stew in the longing you've planted.
Minutes later, you meet up with the girls. Ni-ki's girlfriend drives, with you in the passenger seat and Jake's wife in the back, casually touching up her lipstick after saying goodbye to Jake. The drive is quick, and soon, you're inside the bar. The atmosphere isn't overwhelming yet— not too many people have arrived— so you find a table near the dance floor. Before hitting the floor, you all share your first drink, the conversation and laughter flowing easily.
Everything seems to be going well. A few sips of alcohol loosen you up, and soon you're dancing with the girls under neon lights, losing yourself to the rhythm of the music. Closing your eyes, you let the moment carry you. After about an hour of dancing, though, you decide to return to the table for a quick breather.
Ni-ki's girlfriend, a little too tipsy now, happily sways on the dance floor with a group of strangers, while Jake's wife has stepped into the restroom to freshen up. For now, you're alone.
A familiar longing washes over you— the temptation to text Sunghoon and ask him to pick you up. Each time you close your eyes, you can still feel the ghost of his lips on your neck and the firm grip of his hands on your waist.
As you sip your sparkling water, a man slides into the seat beside you. He's roughly your height, dressed in all black, and reeks of alcohol. You keep your attention on Ni-ki's girlfriend, hoping he'll take the hint and leave. But luck isn't on your side tonight.
"Hey, pretty." he murmurs, his tone slurred. With a quick glance, you lift your right hand slightly, letting the neon lights catch the sparkle of your wedding ring. You hope it's enough to deter him, but he only moves closer, his hand reaching toward you.
You stand abruptly, stepping out of his reach. "Leave, or I'll call security," you warn, your voice steady despite the discomfort twisting in your stomach. To your relief, he backs off, muttering something under his breath as he walks away.
Even though he's no longer beside you, his presence lingers. Each time you try to dance or relax, you catch him watching you or attempting to position himself nearby. To make matters worse, one of his friends starts bothering Jake's wife, making the situation even more unbearable.
Feeling uneasy, you gently pull Jake's wife off the dance floor and lead her back to the table. Anxiety weighs heavily on you as the men continue hovering nearby, their persistent stares making it impossible to enjoy the night.
Despite her intoxicated state, Ni-ki's girlfriend notices your distress. From across the room, she watches you hug yourself and roll your eyes in frustration as the men refuse to leave you and Jake's wife alone. Pulling out her phone, she quickly texts Ni-ki, asking him to come and pick you all up.
You glance nervously at Jake's wife as the men continue murmuring things you can'— or won't— make out. You try to devise a plan to get rid of them, but your thoughts are interrupted by a strong, familiar grip on your waist. Confusion floods your mind until the scent of his cologne envelops you, instantly calming your racing heart.
Turning your head, you see Sunghoon. His jaw is tight, his brows furrowed, and his eyes alight with barely restrained fury. He gives you a brief glance, his expression softening slightly when his gaze meets yours, before locking on the man in front of you. Sunghoon's frustration is palpable— did this guy not notice the ring on your finger?
The man, unfazed, smirks shamelessly. "Sorry, man, I thought she was bluffing." He says with a nervous laugh, raising his hands in mock surrender as he gets up. "I'm leaving." he adds. Sunghoon's glare doesn't bulge.
Across the room, Jake is holding his wife gently, his hands brushing over her cheek in a comforting gesture. Meanwhile, Sunghoon grips your wrist and pulls you toward the exit without uttering a word.
You already know you're in trouble. His jealousy has taken over, and though you know he isn't upset with you, his possessive meanor is impossible to ignore. Your sweet, calm husband has vanished, replaced by a side of him that both excites and frustrates you.
"Can you let go of my arm?" You complain, your irritation rising as his hold begins to sting.
Sunghoon stops outside the bar. The street is nearly silent, the night's chillwrapping round you. He turns, his intense gaze mocking on yours, his irises dark and unreadable.
"Did he touch you?" Sunghoon demands, his voice low but laced with urgency as he steps closer.
"No, I wouldn't let him," you reply firmly, stepping back to create space. But he follows, his presence overwhelming.
"I should've told you to stay home," he mutters under his breath, running a hand through his hair in frustration. His words, though not directed at you, ignite your temper.
"Yeah, maybe you should've!" You snap, abruptly facing him. Your voice is loud as you glare at him, anger bubbling to the surface. "Or maybe you could be more like Jake!"
"More like Jake?" Sunghoon echoes, raising an eyebrow, his arms crossing defensively.
"Yes! Look at how he handled this!" You exclaim, your voice shaking with pent-up motion. "The first thing he did was comfort his wife— hug her, ask if she was okay. He didn't act jealous or possessive!"
Your words falter as Sunghoon's expression changes. The hardness in his face gives way onto something unreadable, his eyes narrowing slightly as he steps closer. Instinctively, you back up until your shoulders press against a cold wall.
You stare up at him, searching for any signs of what he's feeling, but his expression remains enigmatic. His tall frame blocks the faint glow of the streetlamp, casting shadow over you.
One hand rests against the wall beside your head while the other wraps firmly around your waist, pulling you flush against him. His fingers trace the curve of your hip, making liberate pressure, causing your skin to tingle and your breath to hitch. The intensity in his dark eyes leaves you paralyzed. Slowly, he leans in, his lips brushing against your ear. You anticipate a sharp retort, but instead, he kisses you.
The kiss is fierce, full of urgency, and heat, his lips move against yours with such intensity that your mind spins. His hand rails up your thigh, slipping beneath the fabric of your dress. His tongue tangles with yours when you finally realize where his fingers are. Before you can react, he leans close again, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers:
"Well, it's too bad.." He pauses, his lips grazing your skin. "You're married... to me."
His lips capture yours hungrily, devouring you as his fingertips brush over your lacy underwear. You moan against his cheek, a proud smirk grows on his lips, knowing he has you exactly where he wants you.
Taglist: @grandlightcandy @seokseokjinkim @strxwbloody @enhasunghoonishot @contyynishimura @heewanrik @ranwonbin @leanderexists @lovelyyf @youngheejay @crimson-reaper576 @rikifever @mrsjjongstby @laurradoesloveu @babyboomysweetie @mintchocos-things If you wanna be added or removed from the taglist just comment below!
[ Check out my MASTERLIST; ]
#enhypen#enhypen sunghoon#enhypen imagines#enhypen x reader#enhypen scenarios#enhypen fluff#enha#enhypen smut#sunghoon#sunghoon park#enhypen angst#sunghoon angst#sunghoon fluff#sunghoon x reader#sunghoon imagines#sunghoon enhypen#sunghoon smut#sunghoon scenarios#engene#kpop imagines
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done for the night
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axel kovacevic x reader
author's note ⋆。𖦹 ✮ ‧₊˚✩彡
hiiiii this is my first fic for any CK character so i'm kinda nervous. hope u like it. i started a pt. 2 already bc i just love axel but i also wanna write him in different scenarios as well! will open my requests asap :)
c.w.
s6pt2 spoilers, drinking.
being in barcelona was a dream. you were grateful that you were able to tag along with the miyagi do's. sensei larusso and sensei lawerence always liked you, especially johnny. being miguel's best friend is a privilege you were happy to have. sure, it came with a lot of drama but it also came with a protector, a group of friends, and some karate skills.
plus, being miyagi do's water girl wasn't a bad deal for being flown out to barcelona.
you were enjoying being on the inside of all the events while not needing to fight. the first couple of rounds you seen were intense. being around all these powerful people made you a little nervous but you had hope nothing terrible would happen like the rumble at west valley. these weren't angry teenagers fueled off drama and angst, they're athletes. aspiring professionals.
after miyagi do managed to stay in the game by the skin of their teeth, everyone was getting ready to go out. sam was talking your and devons ear off about spain and all the things her and miguel were going to do in their freetime when there was a knock at the door. you got up from your spot at the vanity and opened it to see miguel.
he was distressed, foot anxiously tapping with a hand through his hair. "is sam in here?"
"yeah, sam." you waved her over to the door. "you good, miggy?" miguel opened his mouth to speak and his eyes immediately welled up with tears. "what's wrong?"
"my mom..." his voice shook as he took sam in his arms for a hug. "something's wrong with the baby, i need to go back home." he spoke, voice muffled by sams hair.
"of course." you nodded. "is there anything we can do?"
he only shook his head and hugged sam harder.
"miguel." johnny said from the end of the hallway and beckoned him.
miguel let sam go and gave you a quick but tight hug before taking off. you and sam share an uneasy look before going back inside the room.
"miguel's going back home? sensei too?" devon asked and the two of you nodded.
"i need a drink." you said, grabbing your purse.
***
at the bar, everyone just seemed to take the gloominess with them. knowing miguel was struggling made it impossible to have fun.
"what are we going to do now that miguel's gone?" devon asked hawk and demitri.
"we could always have y/n take his spot?" hawk said, giving you a look over like he was sizing you up.
you scoffed. "yeah right, i wasn't even good enough to fight for a spot in the sekai tekai. getting my ass kicked on the world stage isn't on my bucket list."
"i'm serious." hawk said. "if they can't get kenny, you're next up. so don't black out this time." hawk pointed at your drink, remembering the time you got blackout drunk and threw up all over the inside of his car at one of moons parties.
"i'd prefer drunk y/n over kenny any day." demitri started. "at least she didn't shit her pants."
"oooookay." you stood up, taking your empty glass with you. "i'm getting another drink." you saw the way they were looking at you. "my last one. i don't think you guys will need me but if you do, i'll be ready. i promise."
you walked over to the bar, where sam and robby were sitting. "hey."
"hey." sam said and robby only nodded.
"what's with him?" you noticed robby's bad mood as soon as you walked up.
"maybe you can help." sam stood up, taking her cup with her. "i'm gonna go sit with the others for a sec, see if miguel still has service."
"okay." you nodded, taking sams spot at the bar. "what's wrong?"
"everything." robby sighed. "i need a drink."
you wanted to tell him not to, that it wouldn't solve anything but you knew that he already knew.
"get one, whatever you want. i got us for the first round." you took some cash from your pocket. "hey, can i get a mai tai and..."
"a rum and coke. double. please." robby asked and the bartender nodded, getting to work on your drinks.
"it's one of those nights, huh?" he only nodded, peering at the other edge of the bar for a moment before scoffing and turning back to you.
"yeah." you looked down to where he had just looked, to see tory and kwon sitting besided each other. kwon had an arm around her shoulders and was whispering something in her ear.
"i'm sorry robby. she's gonna come around, i know she is."
"i don't know. she's doing better without me." robby took a sip of his drink and looked down to where tory was sitting. kwon had separated from her but was still close. "and i'm here." he looked at his drink. "thanks by the way."
"it's not good to drink alone. especially when you're down." you nodded, taking a sip of your drink. "also, i missed out on the robby who smoked weed and skated everywhere. i hear he was kinda fun."
"i still skate everywhere." he said with a small laugh. "just not a skate rat anymore."
"yeah, you're the captain now." you gently nudged his shoulder. "i don't know how that feels exactly, the pressure, but i do know that you're gonna make everyone back home proud. especially tory."
"i hope so." he took another drink and eventually, his was gone.
"i know so. she's been watching every one of your fights."
robby cringed a little bit. "knowing i've lost every one of my fights definitely makes me feel lame."
"you're still in it. there's still tomorrow." you took another sip of your drink.
robby nodded. "i'm gonna go to the bathroom."
you nodded in return, looking over your shoulder to see hawk on his phone, sam and devon talking, and demitri dancing with a girl. when you turned back to where robby was sitting, kwon was in his seat.
"hi."
"hello." you were playing with your straw.
"what are you drinking?"
"a mai tai." your responses were dry but kwon wasn't backing off.
"do you want to dance?" he offered his hands but you shook your head, backing away a little.
"no, thanks."
"what? you're only miyagi do's little girlfriend? not for the rest of us?" kwon leaned in closer. "i can treat you better than keene."
"leave me alone, kwon."
"hey." robby's voice came from behind you.
kwon only scoffed and backed up. "someone's waiting for me anyways." he stood up. "i promise i'll keep her warm tonight, keene." he said before leaving the bar.
"are you okay?"
"i need some air." you stood up and went outside, leaving your friends at the bar. you felt bad for leaving robby alone but you couldn't be there anymore.
you felt the effects of the alcohol as you walked down to the beach. your head was spinning. you stopped and took a seat near the shore, sighing as you looked out to the water.
and then you saw him.
axel kovacevic.
he had been destroying his opponents on the mat. nobody's been able to land a point on him. he was one of the strongest competitors. he was stoic too, especially now as he was practicing his kata about 10 feet away from you. in the moonlight, by the ocean, with the alcohol making your perspective soft, he wasn't robotic. he was focused. until he caught you staring at him.
you made eye contact and immediately looked down at your lap. you waited about 5 seconds to check if he was still looking and he was full on staring. it was awkward. he wasn't looking at you as a threat, but with curiosity.
the two of you observed each other for a silent minute before you decided to say something. "hi." you waved and he didn't say anything in return. "you're axel right?" he nodded. "i'm y/n. i liked the kata you were doing."
"i'm not supposed to speak with opponent." he turned away from you and you stood up.
"i'm not your opponent. i'm not even fighting in the tournament. more like, emergency backup." you smiled, watching the corner of his lips tug upwards.
"why aren't you fighting?" he asked curiously, taking a step closer to you.
"i'm not really a fighter like my friends are." you shrugged. "you're great though."
"i'm alright." he leaned over to pick up his shirt and revealed bruises on his back. the sight made you wince.
"what happened?"
"bo staff competition."
"nobody has been able to land a point on you yet." you looked at him and he had a sort of an embarrassed look. "i know about... your sensei. one of my friends saw. it's not right. you should be out with your team, not practicing alone."
"there's always time for practice. my sensei wants me to be the best. it's because of him i never lose."
"doesn't make it right." you responded. "your entire dojo is pretty great though, i have to admit."
"you're pretty." axel stopped himself. your face was on fire and so was his. "your dojo's pretty good too."
"thanks. do you wanna walk with me? back to the hotel?" you asked, rocking on your heels. axel looked around and nodded and you both took off into the night.
"how long have you been fighting for?" you asked.
"ever since i was a kid. what about you?"
"only a couple years. after one of my friends got really hurt, i decided i had to get serious about learning. he had been teaching me some stuff but when it happened i just had to join a dojo. it was actually... cobra kai."
axel looked at you in disbelief. "you were in cobra kai?"
"yeah. after miguel got hurt, i was really angry and i took it out on everyone."
"miguel..."
"he was the original cobra kai." you remembered when miguel excitedly showed you his first gi. "it's a long story though. those sensei's, silver. they put me and all my friends through hell. so i know what its like to have a sensei do anything to make you the best, even hurt you."
axel couldn't say anything, he could only look at you with wonder. "is that why you don't fight anymore?"
"kind of. i don't know. i'm just not as angry as i used to be. i feel like my anger was the only reason i was ever good and i don't wanna live like that." you shrugged.
"i understand." he nodded. "i love karate but i don't want to be a robot all the time." you shook your head and opened your mouth to speak but he interrupted. "i hear what everyone says. they call me a monster, a machine. sometimes i just want to be axel." you nodded, this time you didn't have anything to say. "that's why i like to travel. i get to disappear in each city whenever i'm not fighting."
"how many cities have you been to?"
"a lot." he chuckled and listed all the cities and countries he's been to. you listened in awe. "what about you?"
"i've never really left california." you responded. "but after being here, i'd love to see everything. the sagrada familia makes me feel small but not in a scary way. it's like a monument to the great things humans can do."
"how cute!" a familiar voice interrupted. "little rival team playtime, huh?" kwon and another cobra kai came from around the corner. "thought you were only for miyagi do to play with."
"and i thought i told you to leave me alone." you tried to push past them but they blocked the path. you could smell the alcohol on kwons breath as he spoke. "just let us go."
"what's the magic word?" kwon asked, leaning in closer to you.
"move." you responded bluntly, not wanting anything else to do with this.
"wrong." kwon scoffed and shook his head. he glanced over your shoulder and you were sure someone was behind you.
"we just want to go back to the hotel." you weren't planning on giving kwon what he wanted.
"okay. you can go, only if you say please." kwon was in your face again, smug smile plastered on his face.
before you knew it, the other cobra kai kicked axel. it barely affected him as he shot into action to defend the both of you.
"come on, hit me. show me why they brought you here." kwon tapped his cheek and you were about to raise your arm when you were grabbed from behind. you elbowed whoever grabbed you multiple times before being able to slither out and kick him across the face. at the same time, axel shoved the other cobra kai into kwon. "okay come on. i'll take you both."
the sound of sirens took everyone but kwon out of the fight. he was still pressing axel and had to be taken away by his teammates.
"come on, let's go."
the two of you bolted back to the beach. after catching your breath, you started laughing a little.
"what?" axel asked.
"that guy kicked you and you barely moved. you have a strong base."
axel looked away from you, a smile spreading across his face. "thanks. that was a nice roundhouse."
"thanks, axel." you smiled at him and then looked out at the ocean. when you looked back at him, he was staring. no, he was admiring you. "what?"
axel said nothing, he only reached to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. his hand brushed against your face and you leaned into the touch.
and then he kissed you.
and you kissed him back. it was perfect. he was cradling your face with one hand, pulling you closer by your waist with the other. his mouth moved against yours softly and romantically. it was sweet. he didn't want anything other than to kiss you and you were happy to oblige and let yourself be putty in his hands.
but then your head started spinning again. you pulled away abruptly, taking a deep breath as you came up for air. the alcohol, the running, and the kissing were all making you dizzy. "axel i-."
"i'm sorry, i should go. already after curfew." axel took off running down the beach.
"wait, axel!" you called out after him but he was gone. you felt terrible as you went back inside the bar to meet with your team. everyone was already heading out and robby was nowhere to be seen. you figured he had went back to the hotel and hoped he would be fine. everyone else on the other hand would be dealing with their drama for a minute, including yourself.
#axel kovacevic#axel kovacevic x reader#axel cobra kai#cobra kai season 6#cobra kai season 6 part 2#cobra kai x reader
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too soon to tell you I love you!
Ewan Mitchell x f!reader
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a/n: another random Ewan oneshot, as a result of @seamaiden indulging my delusions 💛
main masterlist
It's not often that you bump into one of your favourite actors at the pub... or he bumps into you.
It is just another night out on the town, and your mates managed to convince you to have a couple of drinks out in Covent Garden.
There's a really good pub you haven't been to apparently, but you know your friends, and they would think a pub is stellar as long as there is free-flowing alcohol inside.
It's a pub, you typed in the group chat, what could be so special about it? I kinda want to stay in tonight.
It will be special cos we'll be in it, one of them replied.
And that was the end of it. No room for negotiation when a night out is involved, but you adore your close-knit band of rascals, so you're hardly fazed.
The three of you are snug in a booth, the first round of drinks already imbibed and wreaking havok in your livers.
"Another round, guys, c'mon," Paul says, slamming his hands down on the wooden table, ever the charming instigator.
"You want another, you be the one to fetch it," Gracie smirked, wagging a finger at him.
"But I got this one! Lay off me, mate. It's someone else's turn now, that's how the system is, let's be civil about this—"
"Oh my god," you cut him off with a teasing laugh, "you really will say anything to get out of getting another round, won't you?" You share a conspiratorial wink with Gracie.
Paul gapes like a blubbering fish. "Hey! But I got the first round—"
"Alright, alright, drama queen," you stand from your seat, patting his shoulder in a mock comforting manner, "I'll cover this round."
"Huzzah! I love you!"
You roll your eyes fondly. "Oh, get a grip. I'll be right back."
It's a Friday night, so traversing the cramped confines of the pub feels like walking into a battefield. You have to shimmy past patrons filing in and out, those standing around tables like flocks of flamingo instead of sitting as they should, lads too focused on the match on the telly to notice when you first mutter excuse me, pardon me.
Then someone, much to your increased annoyance, bumps right into you from behind. You're thrown off kilter when you feel an elbow shoved in between your shoulder blades, making you step on your own damn foot.
You turn sharply. "Hey, watch it—"
"I'm so sorry! Are you alright?"
"I... I..."
"Are you okay?" he asks. His sharp, angular face and intense, piercing gaze make him instantly recognizable. He has that quietly powerful presence, standing a bit taller than you expected, with striking cheekbones and the slightest smirk playing at his lips, framed by the littlest bit of dirty blonde scruff.
"Here, come on." He gently tugs at your arm, his other hand occupied with a full pint. You let him pull you away from the warm, inebriated bodies and into a more secluded corner to the side of the main bar. "Much better, eh? Sorry, I didn't think you could hear me back there. Pub's proper packed tonight, innit? But... yeah, I'm sorry for bumping into you like that."
"It's... not a problem."
"Really?"
You nod, forcing a smile, your throat so constricted you can barely form a coherent sentence.
"Well... I, uh... how about I make it up to you anyway, huh? I could get you a drink? And your mates too if they're around?"
"Yeah, they're..." You raise a hand and wave at your table, but they're already keenly watching you, intrigued looks on their faces. You'll never hear the end of this later. Or ever.
"Is that them?" He waves politely, smiling in amusement. He knows that they recognise him, and how could he not, when they're practically gaping in his direction.
And finally— "Oh, uhm, I'm... Ewan, by the way." You shake his extended hand, introducing yourself in turn.
"Nice to meet you," you croak, "and... uhhh... I actually—"
There's a spark in his eye, and either it's the ambient lighting or his cheeks turn flushed. "Do you watch the show?"
"Yes. I'm a huge fan of yours..." you exhale in relief, a weight off your shoulders as if some secret is finally revealed, but then you hear your words again. "...and the show! I mean, I love the show—"
"Thank you," he grins, saving you from blabbering on too much. He leans forward and nudges your upper arm in a friendly gesture. "Thank you so much, really. I'm glad to hear it."
"So can I ask what's it like to film—"
"You here with just mates or a boyf—"
"Oh, you go ahead," you quickly say, but he blurts out, "Sorry, what did you say?" at the same time. Again.
Just two cluckering hens unable to speak to each other.
Feeling your composure returning, you hold a finger up, telling him to listen for a moment. He laughs softly at your faux stern expression, and the sound is so warm and genuine that your attempted seriousness melts away instantly. You could so get used to that.
"I just wanted to ask, and I hope you don't mind, what is it like to film the show? To be Aemond?"
"Oh, it's an absolute dream," he starts, turning his gaze away for a brief moment as one does when they're tapping into a memory. His blue eyes are cast in another direction, and you're grateful for the momentary reprieve. You catch yourself letting out a shaky breath, no longer arrested by those magnetic orbs of his. But only a few seconds pass before you already miss gazing into them.
You get a hold of your thoughts, and tune in to his words as he continues, "Aemond has become very dear to me... Well, he's definitely a part of me now! And the cast is just the best group of people to work with and I couldn't be more grateful so... Who's your, uhh, favourite character then?"
"Well," you shrug, "you could say he's standing right in front of me!"
"Oh really? And why Aemond?" He places his pint down on the bar and takes a step closer, leaning against the varnished mahogany ever so casually. You have half a mind to chug his pint in order to deal with the intensity of simply being this close to him.
What can you say? Because he's the most beautiful boy you've ever seen? Because he's your tortured little war criminal who is precious and can do no wrong? Because you want to be his ladywife and consumm...
You decide none of those are usable.
So you jump into a brief explanation of how Aemond is a compelling character, a mix of ambition and vulnerability, constantly at odds with others and even himself.
All the while, Ewan stares at you intently. All the while, you pray that your heart won't stop.
When you finish, the smile that is already present on his lips stretches even wider. "You're not just saying that because I'm here, are you? Like, you wouldn't say Criston is your favourite if it were Fabien you bumped into tonight?"
You give a sardonic nod, a slight smirk playing at your lips. "Sure, Ewan. I can easily reuse everything I've said and apply it to Criston Cole. Is Fabien with you? Maybe he can bump into me, and we can start the whole thing all over again."
"No way," he says smoothly, "you're mine."
Your prayers didn't work. Your heart stopped.
He clears his throat, ears reddening. "I mean, you're on team Aemond, come on now. You must prefer him over Cole."
"Well, I do."
"So there, you are mine," he cheekily repeats. Shy then brazen. Embarrassed then flirty.
Just who is this man? You've seen dozens of interviews, heard many a tale of fan encounters, but with every passing second, you feel as if you're discovering someone new altogether.
And it's the type of exciting that stirs you at your core.
"Sorry, am I keeping you from company? I don't want to monopolise— "
He hurriedly shuts that down. "No, no, it's okay. I'm just here with my brother and..." A group of lads erupts in cheers at a goal. "...girlfriend."
"Oh," you mumble. Your heart did start working again, only to clench uncomfortably in your chest. "Well, you should get back to your girlfriend. It was really nice to meet—"
"Wait, hold on," he pleads, reaching for your hand to stop you from turning away, "Not my girlfriend. My brother's. I'm kind of third wheeling them actually. But he's only in London until tomorrow so he wanted to meet me anyway."
"Oh. Okay—"
"I don't... I don't have a girlfriend."
"Uhm, okay," you offer a small smile, unable to deny that his statement gave you some ease.
For no particular reason.
It dawns on you that his larger, rougher hand is still caging yours. When you finally lift your eyes to meet his, a gentle smile plays at his lips, his gaze unwavering.
He leans in, his voice dropping to a low, intimate tone meant only for you. "Listen, could I—"
Something flutters in your peripheral vision, distracting you, albeit you thought it impossible to have your attention diverted if you would ever meet Ewan.
But it was. You turn to see Paul waving an arm frantically at you, likely having waited far too long for his precious pint. Gracie, bless her, tries to get him to simmer down, reaching across the table to slap his arm. Her hand comes into contact with his skin, resulting in a smack loud enough to reach you across the pub.
"Ow!" Paul yelps.
"Leave her alone, mate!" Gracie snaps.
You can't help but laugh at their antics. When you turn to Ewan again, you lose track of what you were going to say, as he's watching you with an unexpected softness, his bottom lip caught between his teeth.
"So..."
"Hmm?" How Aemond of him.
"I think I should do my duty and fetch those guys a round," you sigh, jutting a thumb at your table.
"Oh, I'll get it," he quickly offers. "Don't worry about it, darling."
"Are you sure? I really can—"
"Wait here," he murmurs, his voice so close to your ear that a shiver ripples through you, goosebumps prickling along your skin in response.
You watch as he effortlessly navigates the line, his steady confidence drawing your attention as he orders three pints when it's his turn. You can't help but wonder how no one else has recognized him yet. Luck must be on his side, the footy match on the screens rendering everyone oblivious to the presence of a celebrity in their midst.
Their loss, your gain.
The aforementioned celebrity gestures to you with a tilt of his head, and you weave through the crowd idling by the bar to reach him.
"Here, hold this for me, darling," he says, handing you his own half-empty pint. He balances a full tray with both hands, heading to your table, where Paul has most likely turned into a dry husk.
"Thank you for buying a round!" Gracie exclaims, bouncing slightly in her seat. "You are Ewan from House of the Dragon, right?"
Ewan smiles, shirking slightly under the attention. "Yeah, and hey, I'm just doing my part," he replies with a friendly shrug.
As they gush about House of the Dragon, you try your hardest to disappear into your chair, feeling your cheeks heat. Paul, however—of course—has other plans.
"So, Ewan, you have to know that my friend here—" He gestures dramatically toward you. "—has the biggest crush on Aemond. I'm talking full-on obsession, really.”
"Oh my god, Paul!" you groan, burying your face in your hands, mortified. "Why would you say that?"
Ewan chuckles, and you peer at him to find him leaning back, a smug yet handsome look on his face. "An obsession, you say?" he teases, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief.
You shake your head, laughing despite your embarrassment. "Okay, okay, that's a severe exaggeration."
Ewan says with a grin, looking between you and your friends. "I'll have to be on my best behavior, then, won’t I?"
"Oh, absolutely," Gracie replies. "If you mess this up, you'll ruin Aemond for her forever!"
Ewan raises his hands in mock surrender, laughing. "No pressure, then! But, I hope you don't mind if I steal her away for a while," he says, turning his gaze back to you, his tone softening. "I'd really like to sit and talk to her more."
Alys Rivers has got nothing on you.
"What about your brother?" you ask.
"Oh, I see him all the time," he says, all nonchalant, standing from the booth and offering his hand for you to take.
"Are you sure? I don't—"
"Oh my god, just go with him, mate! You know you want to," Paul groans loudly, then he throws Ewan a wink, adding, "You two would look so cute together, you know?"
You're about to chastise him for yet another pert remark, when Ewan replies, "Oh, yeah, I know."
As the night wears on, he recounts behind-the-scenes stories from filming, your shared laughter echoing in the back area of the pub. You lean in, captivated by the way he animatedly gestures, and by the absurd fact that you're casually talking to Ewan Mitchell.
Your Tumblr moots are going to have an absolute field day with this if they found out.
"You wouldn’t believe how many takes it took me to get that scene right with Vhagar," he says, shaking his head.
You can't help but laugh, picturing the scene. He watches you with a look that sends your poor heart fluttering.
The pub has just announced last call when he places his hand atop yours on the table. "Listen, darling... can I ask for your number? I would really love to see you again sometime."
Does he even have to ask?
"Uh, yeah, of course!" When you hand him his phone back, his fingers brush against yours, purposefully lingering for a moment longer than necessary.
"Brilliant," he says, glancing up at you with that charming smile. "I'll text you right now so you know it's really me."
True to his word, it doesn't take long before your phone buzzes in your pocket. You're met with a notification that an unknown number sent you a message—
Hey, beautiful. How about you let me take you out on a proper date tomorrow night? – your obsession, apparently
Your head shoots up, and you lock eyes with Ewan, who is already laughing to himself.
"Ewan! Are you kidding me?" you exclaim, but surrendering to the humour of the whole thing, laughing with him.
"Please say yes, darling?" he tilts his head, pouting adorably, drawing nearer to you.
Yes. Of course. Most certainly.
"Well... since I'm obsessed with you, I guess you already know my answer."
#ewan mitchell#ewan mitchell x reader#ewan mitchell imagine#hotd#house of the dragon#aemond targaryen#aemond targaryen x reader
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you bought anime figure!satoru a new friend! (read part 1 here)
anime figure!suguru who comes out of the box with realistic synthetic hair and a robe made from actual fabric cause the Etsy seller stepped. the. fuck. up.
anime figure!suguru who immediately gets poked and prodded by anime figure!satoru the moment he gets placed next to him on the shelf.
anime figure!suguru who remains stubbornly motionless despite satoru's relentless attempts at 'waking him up', including threats to hollow purple the man. "like it stopped him before," you mock, sliding a KFC bucket model right in between them, which satoru promptly picks up and chucks it right back at you.
anime figure!suguru who still hasn't moved an inch when you come home today, but his hair is in neat pigtails, the top of his head adorned with a pink bow that was obviously yoinked from your barbie three shelves over. looking around the room, you find satoru sulking inside one of your beanies, his long plastic legs poking out. "i'm going to draw dicks on his forehead if he doesn't wake up soon," he whines, voice slightly muffled by the thick wool.
anime figure!suguru who gets put in front of the computer screen per satoru's request. "time to bring out the big guns," the silvered-haired figure says, as he nudges you to open tumblr. walking over to the keyboard with hands in his pocket, satoru punches in each letter of 'geto suguru smut' into the search bar with the heel of his shoe. having established that he has no keyboard manners, he stomps on the 'enter' key.
anime figure!suguru whose first sign of life is a very audible gulp at a very thirsty fanart plastered fullscreen on your monitor. before he could think to step off the stand, he gets toppled over by a cheering satoru. the drama queen proceeds to latch onto his friend like a koala, and wastes no time showing him around like he owns the place.
anime figure!suguru whom you thought would be stoic and reserved, but turned out to be the Regina George to satoru's Gretchen Weiners. everything you do gets judged. your hair, your outfit, your movie choice, and especially, especially your dates.
anime figure!suguru who gets put in timeout (a.k.a. under an upside down laundry basket) for scaring off a boy you invited over by randomly knocking over stuff from the shelves and messing with the lights using the remote he'd pilfered from your nightstand.
anime figure!suguru who doesn't think it's funny when you get him a bunch of mini monkey plushies.
anime figure!suguru whom you later find sound asleep on your bed holding one of those plushies, his head resting on the belly of another. the beanie to his left softly rises and falls, quietly rumbling with satoru's sleepy murmurs. gently slipping under the blanket, you feel your phone buzz.
there are new listings from the Etsy seller.
#geto suguru#gojo satoru#geto x reader#gojo x reader#satosugu#sugusato#jjk#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen
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can i place an order under sainz's name? i'd like a banana bread and a nanaimo bars, plus a coffee with an extra vodka shot, pleaseee. OH and maybe some tea too (if you're up for it) thanks a ton!
the bakery menu
there are still so many delicious treats on the menu! so feel free to submit your own order! as for this order, i love a anon who knows what they want! being rivals with mister carlos, say no more! the drama! the action! the smut!
banana bread ("i'm going to fuck that sweet pussy of yours until the only word your little brain can form is my name.") + nanaimo bars ("who's my pretty girl? c'mon say it.") + coffee (rivals) + vodka shot (rough sex) served by carlos sainz jr. order up!
cw: smut/pwp, rivals (to lovers) au, driver!reader, rough sex, hot seat/reverse cowgirl position, humor, slight hair pulling
red bull racing had two stars, after the departure of checo the previous season, the team had brought someone else in. you. first woman f1 had in a long time. most sort of laughed off your stint on the track as a novelty, until you ended up on podium in your first race.
you even had you teammate a little worried.
that was how you ended up as carlos' rival. it wasn't that carlos was mad that he was being beaten by a woman. it was how you were all smiles and 'good luck's to other drivers. you were so civil and sweet, that it made carlos want to beat you even more. to him when you shook his hand after the japanese grand prix and gave him a dazzling grin, it felt like rubbing salt in his fourth placement.
"you'll get them next time, carlos. season's not over yet!"
carlos wanted you, the way that a wolf craved rabbit. he wanted to sink his teeth into you. he wanted to feel you under him as he took you apart and licked every inch of skin. even a possessive part of him wanted you in the bright ferrari red colours, showing that he staked a claim on the newest hot shot in formula one.
he honestly thought he'd never get the chance. until you showed up at his hotel room right before the spanish grand prix. you looked at him and then grabbed him by the front of the shirt and pulled him into a searing kiss.
carlos heard laughter and when the kiss broke, he saw oscar and lando nearby laughing. when he turned back to you, you were looking in shock with your hand still in his shirt.
before carlos could say anything you looked over to the pair close by and went, "see. nothing." but you were pulled into another kiss which you melted into. carlos could taste the wine on your tongue.
oh, you were getting drunk with the mclaren boys and this was all some stupid little dare. so when you pulled away once more and tried to apologize. he placed a hand on the top of your head and said, "why don't you come inside and get some water. and away from them."
oscar piped up, "you can't take away our drinking buddy."
carlos replied, "you two can drink alone." before he shuffled you inside and closed the door. play stupid games, win stupid prizes was all he thought before he had his hands on you once more. he took you by the waist and pressed a series of kisses up against your cheek and neck.
you were trembling like a leaf against him.
"tell me to stop." he said. this was a line that would be scary to cross, but he could feel your heat through your clothes and against him. a little fantasy come to life.
normally so steady in your tone, your voice was shaky when you said, "i don't want you to stop. i'm so sorry, carlos. they thought it would be funny and whatnot and i-"
he held the back of your head and made you look to him, "you didn't need a dare for you to come here. now, have you had too much to drink to do anything?" he didn't want to hurt you, maybe a little play in the bedroom but not real hurt.
he was your rival, not your enemy.
you held onto the front of his t-shirt and replied, "i want you. that was what the whole dare was. they thought i didn't have the balls to kiss you. i know, it sounds like we're teenagers. but they got two glasses of wine in me before i was stomping over to prove them wrong."
he laughed and held onto your hips, who's my pretty girl? c'mon say it." he saw your expression change before he pulled you in for a tight kiss, his hands went to the slope of your ass and grabbed onto it tightly.
"don't make me blush!" you squeaked
he loved this side of you, so different from the humorous, head strong driver, "oh, you'll be doing a lot more than blushing." then guided you towards the bedroom.
he noticed that you were in nothing but stretchy shorts and a big white t-shirt with printed socks that you had pulled up past your ankles. he saw that the socks had little lions on them.
he sat down on the bed and beckoned you to sit on his lap. he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his lap. his laps were on your clothed back, he yearned to get you naked.
"how do you like it?" he said, his lips close to your back, "how do you want me to fuck you?"
you swallowed, "rough. i always imagined it rough. i see how you look at me after races. when i narrowly beat you out, it looks like you want to eat me alive."
he chuckled, "maybe eat you out, but i think i could never hurt you. not on purpose."
you looked at him, "you suck as a rival."
he remarked, his hand on your chin, "then i guess i'll have to be a lover then." before he let go of it and took your shirt by the bottom and pulled it up over your head, leaving you in tight shorts and a cute grey sports bra.
he let you get up to full get unclothed. he did the same, when you caught sight of his cock you swallowed. the size was impressive and made heat pool in your core. he leaned back a little and looked at you in front of him. he grasped his cock and stroked it, "like what you see?"
you nodded as you pulled down your panties. you saw his expression change and you asked, with a little more confidence in your tone, "do you like what you see?"
he responded, "i bet it'll feel even better." he watched you get in his lap, but you were facing towards the door of the bedroom in a hybrid lap sex and reverse cowgirl. it gave him perfect access to the sight of your pretty ass.
there were little pleasantries exchanged between his cock and your pussy before you sank down on it. your hands on his knees as you started to ride him.
carlos' cock fit nicely in your aching sex. you were already drenched from his kisses and the notion that you'd get to have sex with him. your core throbbed with a deep want as you were fast with your thrusts.
he grabbed your hair tightly and pulled your head back so he could kiss at your neck. he kept you close to him, holding onto you like you were going to run away. he met your thrusts, they were a bit more brutal as his cock hit the back of your pussy.
he said to you, "i'm going to fuck that sweet pussy of yours until the only word your little brain can form is my name."
"is that a promise?"
"yes." then held your hip and hair as he started to thrust harder, fully taking hold of the situation. you may be physically on top, but carlos was the one in charge. savoring every moment that he got to bed his little rival. or rather lover, now.
the pulling of your hair felt good, the roughness of his movements made you grow wetter with each heavy stroke.
"carlos." you panted.
"that's it. fuck, you feel so good for me." he responded, his grip was a little tighter on you. he loved watching you meet his pace and bounce on his cock. next time he'd make sure to keep you front facing so he could see that pretty face of yours. he was certain there was going to be a next time.
"i don't want to be your rival anymore." you panted.
he looked at the back of your head, those beautiful brown eyes gazed at your back side as you worked his cock. he licked his lips and said, "then why don't we become lovers, then?" he smiled when you made a soft moaning noise, his hand in your hair went to your neck and pulled you against him. he bit at your shoulder and collarbone as he pinned you to him and thrusted up into you. "what do you say, mi amor?"
you panted, "please, carlos. i want to be yours."
he laughed, "that's what i like to hear. your name sounds so good on your tongue." he kissed behind your ear with a sense of tenderness. you were bouncing on his lap, the both of your naked on the expensive hotel bed.
he moved against you and kissed the nape of your neck as he bullied his cock into you. his grip was tight on you and it made you pant and whine for more. he fit so good inside of you.
"please, ah, carlos!" you moaned as you clutched onto his strong arms. you kicked out your legs and your cunt tigthened around his length. the pleasure caught up to you and you whined through your orgasm.
part of you prayed no one else in ferrari heard you, carlos' pace was still relentless as he moved against you. you felt so good seated on his cock, he knew your pussy was so pretty and wet.
"that's it. that's it." he panted in your ear, his voice hot and ran through your overstimulated body. he rutted against you before he gave one last thrust then spilled inside of you.
he came and it left him feeling very good as he slowed the pace down and relaxed against you. his arms still around you but his head on your shoulder.
you wanted to kiss him, but your limbs felt shaky. your head felt heavy as you came down from the intensity.
"mi amor." he said.
"shh. shh." you panted as you wiped the sweat off your forehead. it felt nice just being held by the other driver.
you soon tumbled into bed with carlos, your bodies pressed together. his forehead against yours as he laughed a little. he held your face for comfort. he said, "that felt good."
you nodded and kissed him on the lips, "i hope you know, just because you're not my rival doesn't mean i will go easy on you. it'll still be a battle of the track."
he dropped his hands down to your waist and went in for another kiss. which was followed by a few across your cheeks, "of course, i wouldn't want it any other way. but, i still will come out on top. i want to fuck you in front of the a nice shiny trophy."
you laughed and replied, "oh don't worry sainz, next time i win we can do that." then winked at him.
-
the next morning, in the early hours, you exited carlos' room with a prayer that no one saw you. as you carefully closed the door behind you, you heard your name and looked over.
you were met face to face with your teammate. your eyes went wide as you tried to play it off, "oh hey there... bud."
"what were you doing in carlos' room?" he asked.
you shrugged, "oh, you know how it is. a few drinks and fast asleep in front of the television." you laughed it off, "no big deal."
"right."
but something clicked as the two of you looked at one another. it was tense between you two for a moment before you had to ask the question, "but max." you said, "why are you in ferrari's room area too?"
you two would never speak about this ever again. <3
#bunny writes#the bakery#carlos sainz x reader#carlos sainz smut#carlos sainz jr#cs55 x reader#cs55#cs55 smut#formula 1 smut#formula one smut#formula one imagine#formula one fanfiction#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1#f1 smut#f1 rpf#f1 imagine#f1 fic#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#sports fiction#reader insert
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Yours To Have, Yours to Break
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/bda60689be60c51e138ffa25b00899a9/9f18d7db6ad0c23f-cf/s540x810/2c3621fe7c8f7792b24ecce51af0b84163a108ff.jpg)
Summary: What if instead of Nesta, Cassian found out about Azriel and his secret lover. What will happen when the hearty general, in his anger of being left out, causes his brother's happiness to fall apart? How will he atone for his mistake?
A/N: Of course I had to make my comeback with the angstiest angst to ever angst. And that too by turning my fluffiest fic into pure pain. I guess you can say that this this is a spin off of Yours to Keep and Cherish. Also... I know I dropped off the face of the earth but life happens guys. I'm sorta back and here's a fic to make up for it.
Disclaimer: If you're an Elain fan, I would recommend you not read this. I would hate to ruin your day. I do not hate Elain. This is just an idea I got from all the soap dramas I've been seeing recently. Don't kill me please.
Also this shit and not edited. But I was so desperate to post something that I honestly don't care. Hope y'all like it. And yes there will be a part 2
Cassian POV:
As the General of the Night Court’s armies, Cassian had many duties: training soldiers, commandeering battalions at the borders, coming up with war strategies, buying romance novels for his mate and her friends. He wasn’t sure when the last one made its way on his list of responsibilities, or who put it there, but there it was. And who was Cassian to deny his mate?
So that’s how the Lord of Bloodshed found himself standing aimlessly in the middle of the Rainbow, scratching his head, with a list in his hand. Nesta had sent him off to find the newest edition of a Sellyn Drake novel but he hadn’t the slightest idea where to find it. His mate had instructed him to visit a particular bookshop named “The Quill”, being sure that they would have the newest book. Unfortunately, because luck had named him its nemesis at birth, the bookshop was closed for the day. He had asked around and apparently the owner had just left an hour prior to his arrival. Of course, they had.
That is why he had been wandering around the Rainbow, walking into one bookshop after the other, but somehow not one of them had the book Nes wanted. What are the odds of that? How is it possible that only one bookshop in the entire city had this specific book? And why did it have to be closed today? Cassian knew returning empty handed would not only incur the wrath of his beloved mate, but also her Valkyrie sisters. And given the fact that he himself had been teaching them some new disarming techniques, he had no desire to become their training dummy.
While he did not intend on stopping his hunt, he was quite parched. As the summer season approached, afternoons in Velaris became increasingly sweltering. A chilled glass of wine would do just the trick to cool him down, and also relax his nerves. Just as he was deciding on which bar to stop at, he remembered a conversation he had had with Mor the other day. She had told him about a café she had discovered that served the best margaritas during lunch time. Honestly, she hadn’t stopped raving about it for almost a week. What the hell. He was already out in town, might as well try a new place. If it turned out to be good, he could bring Nesta to placate her in case he couldn’t find her book.
Mind made up, he took off to the air, the subtle breeze as he did so, instantly making him feel better. Gliding through the clouds, the twists and turns with wind, were always a guaranteed way of cooling down.
Said café was perched on a hill overlooking the Sidra. He took in the view and the lush gardens outside the café as he landed, and started to walk in. The interior was just as beautiful as the exterior; the décor a blend of elegance and coziness. Oh yeah, he was definitely bringing Nesta here for a date.
He had just given his order to a waitress who looked way too giddy writing it down. Thank the Mother Nesta wasn’t here. Or someone might as well have lost a hand.
Although this is one of the reasons why he didn’t like coming to restaurants and bars alone. Not having company meant he didn’t have anyone to share his stories and jokes with. So, as he waited for his order to arrive, he sat back and took in the people around him; a habit that looked casual enough but was one instilled in him during his years training in the Illyrian camps.
He had been admiring the view from the balcony in the corner when his order arrived. Smiling a thank you, he took a sip from his margarita and damn was it good as Mor had said. He made a silent note to himself to thank her for the recommendation. He was in the middle of another deliciously cold sip, when something caught his eye in the corner of the room, causing him to choke.
What. The. Fuck.
Cassian was sure he looked like a blubbering fish with how his jaw dropped open and his eyes bulged out their sockets. He had to be dreaming or hallucinating from the heat. Yes, that must have been it, the heat had surely gotten to his head. For Cassian could think of no other explanation for the sight in front of him.
His brother, the Shadowsinger of the Night Court, torture extraordinaire, was sitting hand in hand with a beautiful young woman, smiling like a love-sick fool and… eating macarons? Since when did Azriel like deserts? Or the more pressing question: who the hell was he sitting with? Cassian knew his brother liked to keep his lovers secret, but deep down his gut told him this was no mere fling, or one-night stand. For starters, Azriel was smiling like a puppy drunk on love, while bringing the lady’s hand up to his lips to kiss. Cauldron. Just as Cassian had somewhat stopped gawking like a fish out of water, he saw the lady lean over and whisper something across the table, causing Azriel to throw his head back and let out a hearty laugh.
Although he couldn’t explain why, but at that moment Cassian felt a sharp hurt go through him. For he could not remember the last time Azriel had laughed like that with them. Damn it, he couldn’t even remember the last time he had seen Azriel smile nearly as much as was doing now at any family function.
Before he could even begin to process what had unfolded before him, he saw Azriel pay the bill for their food and the couple walked out hand in hand. Immediately Cassian was on his feet, ready to follow them. If someone had asked him why he did what he did at a later moment, he would not have been able to explain himself. At that moment, Cassian was driven only by curiosity and a minor note of hurt too-why had his brother hid this from them?
Rushing out after paying the bill, Cassian saw the happy couple walk down the cobblestone path, once again arm in arm, with the woman leaning against Azriel. Another thing that shocked Cassian: how the hell had Azriel not noticed him by now? Those pesky little shadows normally informed his brother of every detail of his surroundings; Azriel’s own heightened senses and observational skills were what made him the Spymaster of this court. So, for him to not notice Cassian so obviously trailing behind them at a distance, was a testament to how captivated his brother was by the woman on his arm.
At one-point Cassian thought that his brother would winnow with his partner and he would lose them, but the couple continued their stroll without a care in the world. He continued to trail behind them while also maintaining somewhat of a distance. Azriel may not be as hyper vigilant as always, but he wasn’t blind by any means- and Cassian was no small man either.
“Breakfast was delightful, darling. We should plan another afternoon here, what do you think?” he heard the woman comment.
“Of course, but I am oh so very tired. I think I need a few days alone at home with my nightingale to recharge,” Azriel replied with a smirk.
Cassian balked on the inside: okay Mr. I Don’t Need To Resort To Poetry.
“We could always have breakfast here again on Saturday. It is our two-year anniversary, and I intend on spending the day however my nightingale wishes. I think the café can be a brilliant start to our day,” Azriel offered, laughing as the woman swatted his arm at the previous comment.
Reaching the end of the path, Azriel grabbed the woman in his arms and winnowed away, leaving behind a thoroughly perplexed Cassian.
………………………………………………………………………………………………………
Cassian was convinced he must have stood there for another half an hour before coming to his senses. He then took off to the House of Wind, ready to face his mate and the Valkyries’ collective wrath. And his assumption had been right; the three women had blown up when they saw him return empty handed and had proceeded to go on twenty-minute-long rant. For the life of him, Cassian could not have repeated a single word they had said. Because he had not listened to a single word, at least not while paying attention. As their rage had quelled, Cassian had simple gotten up and walked to his room, ignoring the questioning looks from his mate.
While Nesta was still in the library with the girls, Cassian had retreated to bed. And that is where he was now: sitting in bed, staring at a wall, completely at a loss for words. He could not even begin to process what he had seen, let alone understand what he was feeling. For some reason he could not get over how openly Azriel had laughed with that woman, how alight his eyes had seemed. It was as if the Shadowsinger was glowing with happiness, as paradoxical as that sounds.
And it’s not like Cassian wasn’t happy for his brother-quite the contrary. He was just hurt that Azriel had chosen to hide something like this from him for two years. Two years. The words clanged around his head like the sharp tolling of a bell. Azriel had this from them for two goddamn years. And he had a sinking feeling that if he had not discovered the two of them today, he would not have found out for quite some more time.
But why? Keeping casual flings a secret was no big deal. They all had had ventures they didn’t tell anyone, he was sure of it. But if the couple were celebrating their two-year anniversary, then it must be serious. Cassian could tell his brother was committed just by how he had been looking at the woman. And if Azriel truly was serious about this woman, why would he hide it from them? His family?
That is the part that pierced his heart. Up until this day, Cassian had thought the two of them to be rather close. Sure, Rhys and Az clashed from time to time because of their own attitudes, but he liked to think that Azriel and him had always been close. Azriel was his best friend for Cauldron sake. Whenever he had had issues with Nesta at the beginning of their relationship-and he had plenty- Azriel had been his confidante, the one he went to for advice. His brother had been there for him at the highs and lows of his journey with Nesta.
So why hadn’t he let Cassian do that for him? Why had his brother chosen secrecy when he could have confided in Cassian? It’s not like he wouldn’t have supported them. He knew his brother was secretive and shy, but it was one thing to hide things about his work and another to choose to hide such a major part of his life from his brothers.
They were brothers, they were supposed to support each other, to stand by one another, not keep secrets and tell lies. All of a sudden Cassian saw the past two years in a different light. He recalled all the times Azriel had shown up to breakfast with an unusually cheery mood, all the times he had been rushing to leave family dinner, all the times he had skipped their get togethers with the strangest excuses. How long had this been going on? And for how long had they been so painfully oblivious?
Did Azriel not trust them? No, that can’t be it. Did Azriel think he could not open up to them? Each explanation he came up with seemed less plausible than the last. As he continued to spiral, Cassian began to question whether the two were as close as he thought them to be.
Why. Why. Why.
“You know if you stare at the wall any longer, you’re going to burn a hole into it.”
Nesta. He hadn’t even noticed when she had come into the room, and judging by her amused look, Cassian assumed she had been there for some time. Pushing off the wall she had been leaning against, Nesta walked over and sat by him on their bed.
“I’ve been calling your name for the past five minutes, where’s your mind at?” Nesta asked while pushing some stray strands of hair behind his ear.
Shit. What was he supposed to do? He couldn’t just tell Nesta something he himself wasn’t supposed to know. If he hadn’t walked into that café by chance, Cassian would have been none the wiser about this whole situation. For whatever reason Azriel was keeping his relationship secret, he didn’t think it his place to reveal it.
“It’s nothing, Nes. Just thinking about Wind Haven. I’m supposed to head up there next week and I already know Devlon’s going to be a pain in the ass,” Cassian tried to divert.
“Since when have you started getting so worked up over Devlon? He’s going to whine and throw a fit, but ultimately he is going to have to do what you say. You’re worried about something else. What is it?” his ingenious mate inquired. How her intuition was so good he’d never know, honestly sometimes he thought of handing over the mantle of General to her, with how good she was.
“C’mon. You know you can tell me whatever is bothering you,” Nesta pushed while grabbing his hand in her own and damn did he melt at that.
“Alright. If I tell you, you cannot tell anyone else.”
Nesta sat up straighter at that, ears perked with curiosity, eyes wide open and eager.
“I won’t tell anyone,” Nesta answered while nodding.
“I’m serious about this Nes. You can’t tell anyone, not even Emerie or Gwyn. No one,” Cassian reiterated, trying to get his mate to understand how serious it was.
“Alright, alright. I won’t tell anyone, I swear.”
Cassian sighed before revealing what was very much not his secret to reveal,
“Azriel has a girlfriend.”
“Wait-what?”
“Az has a girlfriend,” Cassian repeated.
“No, I heard you the first time. But…how…when??? Why hasn’t he told anyone?”
“I have no idea, Nes,” Cassian replied while falling back against the headboard. He once again took to staring at the wall; confusion and hurt running rampant through him again, echoing the same question again and again.
Why had Azriel kept this a secret from them? From him?
“When did he tell you?” his mate inquired.
“He didn’t,” Cassian chuckled, “I stopped at that new café by the Sidra to get some drinks to cool down while I was out for your books. I saw them together there.”
A beat of silence passed between them before Nesta barged on with her questions,
“You seem…upset about all this?”
“I am. Not at the fact that he has a girlfriend, Cauldron no. It’s about time the idiot found someone. It’s just…why didn’t he tell us? Why keep it a secret?”
“Maybe…it’s new? You know Az. Maybe he just wants some time to figure things out himself before he tells you all,” Nesta reasoned.
Cassian let out a bitter laugh before spitting out,
“It is very much not new. The two were planning their two year anniversary at the same restaurant this weekend. Two goddamn years, Nes. He’s been lying to us for that long.”
He wrenched his hand from hers at that. Cassian knew he was being unfair and unreasonable, but he was angry. Maybe he had no right to be but one does not think clearly when in the clutches of fury.
As his previous confusion and hurt settled, they left behind only anger in their wake. That is what he felt right now. Anger. At Azriel, for lying to them all this time, for hiding something so significant. Did he not consider them brothers?
Before he could succumb to the ravages of anger, his darling mate was there to pull him back, as she always did.
“I can feel all that you know. Don’t let your anger override what you know to be true. This relationship of Azriel…it has nothing to do with us. We’re not entitled to anything regarding it just because we’re his family.”
“Oh so what I’m just supposed to ignore the fact that he’s been lying to us about his whereabouts and plans for the past two years, when he could have just told us?”
“No I am asking you to trust Azriel. You know your brother, Cass, probably more than anyone else. You know that he has a reason for everything he does and you know that he would never do anything to hurt his family intentionally. If nothing else, trust in that.”
Cassian sighed a defeated sigh. His mate was right, as she always was. For whatever reason Azriel had decided to keep this relationship a secret, Cassian would have to trust in it. And when the time came, he hoped his brother would feel comfortable revealing the truth himself.
……………………………………..................................................
Little did Cassian know, that despite the fact that he had made Nesta swear not to tell Azriel’s secret, he had unintentionally revealed it to a third. For outside their bedroom clutching books she had meant to return, stood Elain. Elain, who had almost torn the books with how hard she was clutching them. Elain, who’s hands quivered with rage.
This is why Azriel had been ignoring her. All these months she had been trying to get his attention and he had always slipped away. Because of this?? Some common girlfriend?
No matter. Elain would get him back. How could he ignore her for some commoner? Who deserved his love more than her?
As she walked away, already planning her schemes, a wicked thought went through her mind, a precaution in case she couldn’t convince Azriel:
If I can’t have him, no one can.
...............................................................................................
Azriel POV:
The past few days had been the happiest he had ever been. Although Azriel wasn’t quite sure how fair that judgement was. Each hour he spent with his nightingale, he deemed his happiest. And it has been two years of such blissful happiness. Two years together at each other’s side that they were celebrating today.
He had already arrived at the same café they had breakfast a few days ago and was now anxiously awaiting his beloved girlfriend. Honestly, he would have preferred that the two arrive together, not wanting to spend a minute away from his nightingale. But alas, not everything had to be as he wished. As soon as she had woken up, his nightingale had slipped out from his arms (something he had still not forgiven) and had rushed to her book shop. According to her, she had some urgent delivery that she just had to be there for. Therefore she had promised him that she would meet him directly at the café.
That left him, sitting in their favorite spot in the café, with his head swiveling to the door every time it opened, hoping his nightingale had arrived. It wasn’t like she was late, it’s just that he too early, wanting what he hoped would be a great start to a celebration filled day.
“Oh, Azriel!”
He heard his name be called, but his heart instantly dropped, that voice did not belong to his nightingale. Turning around he saw…
“Elain? What are you doing here?”
“What a coincidence, Az! I was just out for some errands and thought I would get myself a drink. I’m absolutely parched! Thank the Cauldron for this lovely café!” Elain replied in an unusually high pitched voice.
“Yes, how lovely…” he trailed off, gaze flicking to the door. He knew his girlfriend would be arriving soon and he would much rather Elain not be here for that… for a plethora of reasons.
“Well, what are the chances of meeting you here Az? And look, you’re alone too! Why don’t we have lunch together, it feels like we haven’t caught up in forever.”
“Actually I’m meeting some…”
He never got to finish his sentence. If someone asked him later what happened, Azriel wasn’t sure he would be able to explain it. One second Elain was smiling at him, trying to grab his hand, the next her gaze turned cold, flicking to something behind him. The next thing he knew, within a matter of seconds, Elain had grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and smashed her lips to his.
What. The. Fuck.
Azriel didn’t even process what had happened, didn’t even realize that she was kissing him. Elain. Was. Kissing. Him.
The last thought jolted him out of his state of shock and he pushed her away. Not caring for who saw or heard, he yelled,
“What the fuck Elain? You can’t just grab people like that! What the hell is wrong with you?”
“Oh c’mon Az. It was barely a peck. I had barely begun to enjoy it,” Elain replied with a callous smirk.
All of a sudden he did not recognize her; he didn’t recognize the cruelty in her eyes, the indifference in her expression. Where was the kind hearted woman he considered a friend? And who was standing in front of him in her place? When he didn’t say anything, still riddled with shock, Elain continued,
“Well no matter. It may have been short but it achieved it’s purpose,” Elain replied slyly. She inched closer and grazed her hand up his arm and whispered, “if you want to continue, I would gladly indulge you, Azriel.”
He didn’t know what the fuck was wrong with her, why she was doing this, in a crowded café no less. But Azriel was way too uncomfortable to try to find out. He wrenched his arm away from her and was about to give her a piece of his mind when he saw it again: Elain’s gaze flickering to something behind him with a wicked smirk on her face. One of victory.
Hoping against hope it wasn’t what he feared it was, Azriel turned around. And it was like time itself had stopped. For there, at the entrance of the café, with tears streaming down her face, stood his girlfriend, his nightingale. A millennia could pass and Azriel would not forget the raw pain, the betrayal shining in her eyes amidst the tears.
No. No. No. No. No. This is not happening. This cannot be happening.
He took one step toward her, to explain, to make her understand he had no fault in what she had seen. But before he could, his nightingale turned around and left the café.
Not knowing what to do, Azriel followed after her to see her almost running away from him.
“Love! Please! Listen to me, its not what it looks like,” Azriel begged, anguish lacing every word.
“Oh please Azriel. Do you know how typical you sound right now?” He did, Cauldron he did. But she had to understand…
“Darling I would never hurt you like that. I don’t even know why she was there… or how… but you have to understand… she kissed me! I pulled away… I would never do that to you,” Azriel let out. He knew his fragmented thoughts probably didn’t make much sense. But panic and fear were making it difficult to come up with something cohesive.
“Really, Azriel? You don’t know what she was doing there?! For Cauldron sake, Azriel! I know you called her there. You know, if you wanted to break up with me, you should have done it yourself like a man. You didn’t have to use her for it!” his nightingale spat at him.
What? Break up with her? Break up with the one blessing the Mother had bestowed upon him? What the hell was she talking about?
“Love… I don’t…”
“You don’t what? Huh? Have any need for me anymore? Well you don’t have to worry about me getting in the way, please go enjoy your life with your darling Elain?” His girlfriend yelled, throwing out Elain’s name like it was poison.
Vaguely he sensed Elain coming up behind them. How did she catch up with them? His love spat out a wry laugh, before saying,
“Look, she’s here to get you Azriel. Go be with your love.”
Before he could refute it, Elain jumped in,
“Its okay, Azriel. I told her everything. She’s not in the way anymore. We can be together now!”
“Elain, have you lost your mind? What the hell are you doing? Why are you doing this? You-”
“Cut the act Azriel. Go. Enjoy your life.”
And with that his nightingale walked away for good, taking the shattered pieces of his heart and soul with her.
… … … … … … … … … … … …
Azriel stood in that spot like a blubbering fish for Cauldron knows how long. He was smarter than this. He was quicker than this. He knew that. But for some reason his mind felt addled, like it was submerged in some murky fog. He couldn’t think straight for some reason.
What the fuck had just happened? Did it truly happen? No, it had to be a nightmare. It had to be. He didn’t just lose the love of his life. He didn’t. He wouldn’t be able to bear it.
Azriel had almost convinced himself of his own delusion, when Elain’s rustling snapped him out of his daze. The woman had the gall to walk away after everything she just did. Not so fast. He grabbed her by the arm and yelled in her face, propriety and etiquette long forgotten,
“WHAT THE FUCK ELAIN? WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST DO?”
She wrenched her arm back and held her head up high when responding, as if she just had just committed some honorable deed,
“I did what I had to. You were never there Azriel. I always tried to talk to you… but you were never there. And to find out that it’s because of her! Some commoner! I couldn’t bear it. But she’s not here anymore, Azriel, we can be together!”
“What?! Are you hearing yourself Elain? I don't love you! Not like that, I never have-”
“BUT I LOVE YOU! WHY ISN’TTHAT ENOUGH!” Elain screamed back.
“You’re out of your mind. You… how did you even find out?”
“Cassian told me,” Elain replied calmly, her demeanor immediately changing. There was something seriously wrong with her.
But her words were what caused his world to stop spinning.
“What?”
“Cassian told me. He saw the two of you together the other day and told me that I would find you here today as well.”
His mind was reeling. Cassian knew too? How? He had been so careful with everything? How had it slipped past him so easily?
Elain patted his shoulder one last time before saying,
“We’re meant to be together, Azriel. I love you so much that I’ll ignore this commoner you were sullying yourself with. She might have left you. But I’m always here for you with open arms.”
And then Elain left, simply and quietly. As if she had not sentenced Azriel to a life without the one happiness he had salvaged for himself in this cruel world.
..........................................................................................
Cassian POV:
Cassian had been sharpening his blades in the training arena, waiting for the Valkyries to arrive, when he felt the wards shift. Someone had winnowed in. Before he could question who it was, he saw Azriel standing at the entrance.
Despite Nesta’s words, his immediate reaction at seeing his brother was one of annoyance. He doubted Azriel was here to confess so the continuing secrecy bothered him even now.
Any rant or anger that Cassian was planning on letting out, disappeared as he neared his brother. Azriel had tears streaming freely down his face, shoulders shaking from the sobs.
“How could you?”
Was all his brother let out. Cassian was at a complete loss for words. His brave stoic brother was falling apart before him and Cassian knew neither cause nor cure. His lion hearted brother who had bared five centuries of pain and trials and had never let out even a wince. And now… It seemed like something was tearing Azriel apart into shreds.
“Az, what’s wrong? I-
“How could you?” Azriel repeated, his sobs getting more and more violent. And each falling tear fell like acid on Cassian’s heart. All previous annoyance was replaced by an overwhelming urge to soothe and comfort.
“How could you? What did I ever do to you?” Azriel cried out again.
“Az… brother… I have no idea…”
“Oh don’t act stupid. Don’t act like you don’t know about my girlfriend!”
Oh. That is what this was about? Azriel knew that he knew? But why was he so upset about it? Cassian didn’t think him finding out warranted such a reaction-
“You knew and you send Elain there to ruin everything!”
What? Elain? What did she have anything to do with this?
“You ruined everything! My nightingale… she’s gone… she won’t even talk to me… She won’t look at me… And it’s all your fault!” Azriel let out in between hiccups of tears.
Cassian knew he had to intervene before Azriel spiraled into a full panic attack.
“Brother, calm down. Alright, yes I saw the two of you at the café, but I only told Nesta, I swear on it. I have no idea what you’re talking about, or what Elain has to do with anything.”
Azriel moved further away from him. The utter betrayal shining in his eyes made Cassian want to bury himself in the darkest corner of the world. He did not know what his fault was but he was ready to spend eternity atoning for it if it meant Azriel would no longer be in the pain he was so clearly in.
“DO NOT LIE TO ME!” Azriel roared, leaving Cassian stunned, “ You did this! You couldn’t bear it, could you? You couldn’t stand the fact that I was happy so you sent Elain to ruin everything. You always do this, you always have to take everything away from me!”
Before Cassian could ask for an explanation or beg for forgiveness for a crime he did not know, Azriel had winnowed away.
Alone, his mind was working on overdrive. What did Elain have to do with anything? Cassian was no fool. He had long been aware of the youngest Archeron sister’s affections for his brother. But he also knew his brother had never reciprocated those affections, had always seen Elain as nothing more than a friend.
How did she know about Azriel’s relationship? Nesta could not have told her. Despite how close the two sisters were, his mate had sworn to him and he knew Nesta enough to know that she did not go back on an oath. Had Elain somehow overheard them? And if she had, what could she possibly have done to cause Azriel so much pain?
So many questions were whirring through his head, not one of them had a coherent answer. But amidst the chaos, a singular thought rang the loudest, and it was one that pierced Cassian’s heart:
What have I done?
#azriel×reader#azriel x oc#azriel acotar#azriel fanfic#azriel x reader#azriel headcanons#azriel x y/n#azriel#acotar headcanon#acotar fic#acotar x you#acotar x reader
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hello, i have a request for benny where he introduces his girl to the vandals for the first time.
one of them is already a good friend of her, but he didn’t know the person she was seeing was benny (and maybe benny gets a bit possessive)
Ty for the request, lovely! It's my first for The Bikeriders so I couldn't wait to dive in. I used your idea plus the GIF above as inspo to create drama, plus a little heat with our fave man. I hope you enjoy it and let me know your thoughts!
Rumors
18+ MDNI
Warnings: language, possessiveness, semi public sex
A/N: If you haven't seen the film, it might help to know: 1-Johnny doesn't like to share Benny and 2-Cal's first language is French.
"Heard a little somethin' about your girl you might want to know," Johnny rasped, allowing his words to dissipate into the air on a lungful of smoke.
Benny signaled his interest by leaning forward slightly in his chair, brow furrowed as he thought of anything about you that would warrant a private conversation with the leader of the Vandals. All he could think of at that moment was how eager he'd been to show you off to the guys, an obvious note of pride swelling in his chest each time he uttered your name.
Curiosity getting the better of him, he finally asked, "Yeah, what's that?" Though he had tried to hide his concern behind a facade of cool detachment, the slight twitch of his hand when he raised his cigarette to his lips gave him away.
If it had been a game of poker, Johnny could have recognized the bluff from a mile away. He bit back a sly grin, tonguing the inside of his cheek as he chose his next words for maximum damage.
"Let's just say she ain't no stranger here," he hinted, eyeing Benny carefully to gauge the effect it had on the impulsive young man. Watching Benny's fists clench at his sides, he swiftly added, "Especially not to Cal."
As if on cue, Benny's blue eyes flashed with an ominous darkness. "What are you talkin' about?" he demanded through clenched teeth.
Hissing in Benny's ear like a venomous serpent, Johnny advised, "Don't let her make a fool out of ya. That's all I'm sayin."
Benny's shoulders began to stiffen tightly beneath his leather jacket and Johnny clapped him on the back before abandoning him to his rapidly spiraling jealousy.
You could practically feel the floor shake with the stomp of his boots before you heard the low rumble of his voice calling your name. The tenderness he'd affected an hour ago was gone, replaced by a gruffness which commanded you, "C'mon, baby."
You stared at him wild eyed, wondering what had gotten into him. "N-now? We just got here," you stuttered.
He nodded, taking you firmly by the hand and you decided not argue while his rings pressed into your flesh.
As his friends hooted and whistled, you exited the bar out into the warm summer night. The relative quiet of the street amplified Benny's voice as he asked, "When were you gonna tell me?"
Stumbling off the front step together, he brought you face to face with him, sapphire eyes gleaming with fire. However, you immediately sensed a note of hurt in his accusation.
"Tell you what?" you begged, still uncertain what had him so worked up.
"About you and Cal," he prodded, watching a flash of recognition pass over your face in damning confirmation.
"Don't try to deny it," he warned, dropping your arm to pace the darkened alley beside the bar. Running his hands through his hair in distress, he'd clearly begun thinking the worst when you remained silent.
You struggled to recall who else knew about your acquaintance with Cal, then suddenly you understood, a long sigh pushing from your lungs as you recalled what Kathy had told you about Johnny's dislike of girlfriends hanging around. He said nagging wives took the guys away from the club when the crack ups and late nights began to threaten their relationships. You closed your eyes and shook your head, realizing he’d probably been the one to upset Benny.
"Say somethin'...please," Benny begged, waiting for you to open your eyes to him.
You twisted your fingers in front of you as you finally confessed, "Yeah, I know Cal." Watching Benny hang his head at your admission, you clarified, "Well...I knew the scrawny kid who took English lessons with me a few years ago. I barely recognize him now with that wild hair and that earring." You huffed out a quiet laugh at the thought of it, stopping Benny's nervous movements as he listened to the angelic sound.
He splayed a palm against the cool brick, glancing over his shoulder at you hopefully.
You nodded at him confirming,"That's all it ever was, baby." His chest heaved a sigh of relief as you came to stand at his side. Ducking under his strong arm, you ran a hand down the side of his scruffy cheek and brought his gaze back to you. "I'm yours, Benny. Nobody else's, you understand?"
A low growl rumbled from his lips as he pressed you against the wall, lips seeking yours for the physical reassurance he so badly needed.
His mouth moved against yours insistently, desperate for more and your hands flew to his hair, tugging in wanton desire. As your breasts pushed against his chest, he couldn't help deepening the kiss with a swipe of his tongue and before either of you could contain it, passion overtook you.
Benny turned you to face the wall and raised your skirt over your ass, tugging your underwear aside eager to claim you. Your breath hitched as you heard the jingle of his belt and you quickly braced yourself against the wall for what was to come. Without a care for who might disturb you, he took you right there, hips pistoning into you with reckless abandon.
"Tell me one more time, sweetheart," he urged breathlessly, sucking a dark bruise into your neck that would become irrefutable proof.
"I'm-I'm yours...I belong...belong to you, Ben--," you panted through little shocks of pleasure, unable to continue as you came hard around him.
"S right," he agreed, biting down on your shoulder to stifle his own groans of pleasure. Giving into your vice like grip, he tumbled over the edge with you, heartbeat hammering against your back in exhaustion.
You reached for him in the darkness, clutching the back of his head to keep him close. He stayed inside you for a long, tender moment afterward, placing scattered kisses behind your ear. You might have stayed that way longer if not for your ticklishness and exposed location. So with a hiss, he begrudgingly withdrew from you and gently lowered your skirt.
In the afterglow, Benny smiled at you with a cockeyed grin, tucking himself inside his jeans. The dewy flush of your cheeks making his heart skip a beat, he leaned in for one last kiss as you heard the door to the bar open and release the sounds of boisterous laughter.
Several bikers emerged, Johnny leading the way to the row of choppers parked at the curb. As he strutted toward his bike, a haphazard glance was thrown your way before doing a double take.
You weren't sure if you should scream at him or thank him for the rumor he'd attempted to spread about you and Cal, seeing how it had actually brought you closer to Benny.
When your boyfriend wrapped an arm around your waist, placing a kiss to the top of your head, you decided it wasn't worth arguing about. With a smirk and a little wave, you forced Johnny to acknowledge you, making it clear you weren't leaving Benny's side anytime soon.
#zablife ask box#the bikeriders#the bikeriders fanfiction#benny cross#benny cross fanfiction#benny cross x reader#Benny cross x you#Benny cross x y/n#Johnny Davis#Austin Butler
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