#based off a real conversation I had with a friend on the weekend
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Phantom, seeing Dew for the first time as he’s being dragged back into the Abby hissing and clawing and covered in blood.
Phantom: “was it self defence?”
Swiss: “no”
Phantom: “was it an accident?”
Swiss: “…no”
Phantom: “was he possessed?”
Swiss: “no”
Phantom: “is he single?”
Swiss: “yes!”
Aurora: “PHANTOM NO”
#larsposting#shitghosting#phantom ghoul#swiss ghoul#dewdrop ghoul#Aurora ghoul#incorrect quotes#based off a real conversation I had with a friend on the weekend#in which I am phantom
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ykw actually I am angry + disappointed w them. I've been pushing how I feel aside and trying to make it my own fault so it's all contained but I think theyve just been mean. and they really should know me better ik I try to pretend I don't expect more from them so I feel less hurt when they do things that upset me but we've been friends for years by this point. like come on.
#just got home and went to put my shit away but my flatmate was in the kitchen and i got suddenly so mad i had to walk back out#not going to do or say anything while im this upset. i need to be a lot calmer before i can even be in the same room as her#like okay. so originally it was just the two of them getting drinks and theyd rather it was just them bc i dont drink. thats cool#it wouldve been difficult for me to join them after work bc travel. and ik theyd done this before just the 2 of them and had fun#i can fully respect that its why i said no and stuck by that decision when she asked again#but to not mention she was taking the day off work and btw i just found out that BOTH of our other old flatmates joined in too#to not mention that they were travelling that entire distance and that it wasnt just drinks it was a whole day out together#thats just mean. why wouldnt you tell me that why did none of them say anything.#and the fact they did the exact same fucking thing last weekend too i didnt know about that at all#like i need to stop trying to justify it. im allowed to feel unwanted and excluded bc thats exactly what theyre doing.#im tired of feeling like other people dont want me around. i know i can be difficult and annoying sometimes. but im really not that bad#and we're meant to be friends!!!!!! like youre supposed to like your friends. and want to spend time with them. or at least i do#and yeah everyones annoying sometimes thats just part of being alive ur supposed to tolerate it if ur friends#im allowed to want to feel like im wanted. im allowed to want ppl to care abt me. that shouldnt be too much to ask for#but the overwhelming message im getting at the moment is they dont want me around. and when i am around them i feel like they dont listen#to me and that they dont really care how i feel unless it directly involves them or theyre responsible for it#i feel like they dont see me as a real person that exists. only a version they have in their heads and they base all their assumptions and#decisions off that version instead of directly communicating with me. and constantly avoid me under the guise of 'giving me space'#when im upset or having a difficult time and most need support from other people. i just feel really unseen#and ik that part of how i feel IS exacerbated by insecurity and depression. like they do care to some degree#but also a lot of it is evidenced in the way they act towards me. mainly my roommate bc shes the person i interact with most#and personally i find the most direct ways of showing u care abt someone are showing up for them. and making them feel seen#and maybe not everyone feels the same way. but thats how it works for me anyway#so to repeatedly exclude me and avoid acknowledging that ive been having a difficult time is the opposite of that to me#which is the point im trying to arrive at... sorry ik ive probably said similar things repeatedly the last few weeks but i feel like its#crystallising a bit like this is the core reason why im so sensitive and reactive atm and why i got so upset by it#idk. not tonight bc im still very emotionally raw but maybe tomorrow if im calmer i should explain that i was upset + why to her#i avoid doing that so often when im upset bc i dont think theres much point in having a conversation abt it unless u expect some kind of#resolution from it. or if you want an apology but idrc abt being apologised to the crucial thing is what theyre going to do different#and i love her but shes very resistant to changing her behaviour bc of other ppl being upset by it. and like i said before she has
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please please please
-- pedro pascal x singer! f!reader
a/n: hello loves! happy (belated by an hour but i promise it's worth it!) daddy's day to our daddy, pedrito! this is based on the song please please please by sabriana carpenter!! i was going to change the plot from the music video, but i rewatched it with pedro in mind and couldn't change it. these new pictures from the esquire shoot were some real inspriation for badboy! pedro for the music video. i highly suggest viewing the video before watching and imaging pedro in it for the whole pleasure of the story. i hope you all enjoy it! please please please (😘) leave a like or comment if you did! much love to all -maddie 🫶🏼
main masterlist/ nonsense / espresso / word count: 4.0k
summary: you and pedro are finally offical and it's time to hard launch your romance. what better way than to show off your fine ass man than a music video with you.
warnings: 18+ mdni, reader is able-bodied,established relationship, smut!!!, and fluff!, drinking, switch sex 🥵, p in v, fingering, oral ( f recieving), titty fuck, sexual teasing, pet names (mi amor, princesa, daddy, mommy, baby, baby girl, puppy, angel)
“That’s a wrap, Pedro! Nice work,” the director hollered from the camera to Pedro as he sat in a beach chair on a beautiful beach in Mexico. You watched as you stood with Coco, and he finished with whatever he had to work on. He approached you, embracing you sweetly and playfully talking to Coco. She tells you that she will catch up with you as soon as she walks off to clean up her station for the day.
“You’re in a Corona commercial, P,” you beam up at Pedro as he meets your gaze. Your comment makes him grin wide as you do the same. His large hands grip your hips as he pulls in closer to his chest. Through the months, your connection has developed into a more substantial relationship than friends with benefits.
“I am, princess,” he whispers down to you as he lets his lips gently press onto yours for a few seconds until he quickly pulls his body away. He gently squeezes your hip as he winks at you, “Let’s go get ready to hit the road,” he says as his thick fingers entangle among yours as he starts towards his trailer.
You adored watching him interact with production staff as he is personable and appreciative to each one of them. The staff helps him prepare to leave, and his eyes keep finding yours throughout his conversations. Every glance sends butterflies through your whole body.
Pedro had extended a special invitation for you to join him for the commercial shoot and spend two extra vacation days at a luxurious rental house he had arranged on the beach. The thought of the upcoming weekend, just the two of you, filled you with thrilling anticipation. It was a rare opportunity to get to know him better, away from the hustle and bustle of your jobs and others' presence.
He finally finished up, changing his attire into his regular t-shirt and shorts and walking up with a warm smile. “Ready to go, princess?” he asks, giving you a hand to help you up from the couch in his trailer. You nod as you take his hand and follow him outside after saying short farewells.
“What is the itinerary, honey?” you ask as he holds your door to the rental car. You settle inside the luxury car and glance at him with a questioning look. Watching him
“I'm Going back to the bungalow to relax for a bit, and then I made a nice reservation for us for dinner,” he says with a broad smile and a wink as he closes the door. Once inside the car, you question him about the attire for dinner and where it is, but he stays silent and gives you no details besides “It’s a surprise, Princesa.”
You roll your eyes at his refusal but start congratulating him on his shoot and hyping him up. His large hand does find its way over to your thigh as it plays the line of teasing. You watch it from the corner of your eye as you try to hide, biting your lip.
Once at the rental home, he helps you inside with a big smirk. An extensive package on your shared bed from your stylist made you raise an eyebrow at Pedro, “What’s this all about, P?”
The smirk on his face and hidden chuckles as he buried his face into your shoulder after he wrapped himself around from behind gave you a feeling that he was up to no good. His gentle grip on your hip gave you goosebumps as they slowly moved toward your chest, causing you to giggle. He unburies his head from your shoulder with a fake straight face, “As I said, it’s a surprise, and I asked your stylist to help me so you won’t have to stress. I am going to step out to go get dressed as well. Holler if you need any help,” he quickly professed as he pressed his lips to your head and gave your breast a gentle teasing squeeze. He runs out of the room with a loud, mischievous laugh.
You shake your head as you stare down at the large package addressed to you. Once opened, you find a handwritten note from your sweet stylist saying they hope you have a great night without worrying about your outfit. They chose a beautiful outfit that fit your body wonderfully and made you feel confident. You are afraid it might be too much for whatever Pedro had been planning, but you felt better once he walked out in his dress pants and a nice top.
“Holy shit, baby,” he exclaimed, exiting the bathroom while his eyes feasted on your whole body until they met yours, “you look ravishing.” As your cheeks heat up, you take in his appearance as well. You try to pinch yourself as you take him because you got so lucky with this man, and the same thoughts go through his head. Pedro walks closer to you and cups your face delicately as he leans in to give you a passionate kiss that takes your nerves away.
Before you both get carried away with the kiss, you reach to give his bum a teasing squeeze that causes you both to smile through the kiss. He pulls away and gives you a dramatically surprised face before he busts out laughing, pecking your cheek. “Sorry, I couldn't resist. You look very handsome, honey. Now I’m interested in what you have planned for tonight,” you muttered as you tried to pry his plan out of him one last time.
Pedro chuckles at your words as he fakes, zips his mouth shut, and throws it over his shoulder. This man could not be serious for two seconds sometimes. His actions and unseriousness always keep you smiling and laughing as you should be.
Once you both finished getting ready, he took your hand, led you to the car, and opened your door. You couldn’t help but already fantasize about what would happen when the two of you would be back here a little later with a big smirk. The car ride to the restaurant was full of laughter and singing to the radio as you tried to calm your nerves. Pedro himself even seemed a bit nervous, which made you anxious.
The restaurant was lovely, and you had heard great reviews of it. Pedro was very romantic as he helped you out of the car into the restaurant, where he pulled out his car. He was making a significant purpose to be a gentleman tonight and make you feel like royalty (as he should and usually does). It was your first time going to this lovely restaurant with Pedro by yourselves. You secretly snap a cute photo or two of him as he looks too good, not to which he does the same for you. You spend the whole dinner flirting and catching up with Pedro from work to learning new details about one another.
After dessert was served, you both relaxed a little bit more as the wine was soothing your nerves. He gently reached out his hand across the table for yours, which you happily gave him as you sweetly smiled at him. “Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?” he flirts with you and gives you a toothy grin. The wine makes your face light up more than you thought.
“Just a few,” you joked as his thumb ran over your soft hand, “but keep doing it.”
“I have something I want to talk about,” he shared as you see him chew at his lip in nervousness. Your eyes met as you nervously sat up straighter and anxiously thought of everything he could say. He gives your hand a light squeeze and a smile. ‘“It’s okay, princess. Nothing to worry about; I can see the thoughts spiraling through your cute head.”
“Okay,” you mutter as you anxiously sit there, gripping his hand in a beautiful restaurant. “You have about two seconds before the panic attack.” You joke with him as he chuckles under his breath.
“Well, I have been thinking recently how pleasurable and exciting our time together is always,” he speaks and holds eye contact, “I know we are pretty serious for one another, but.” He pauses, making you hold your breath until he speaks again. “I was wanting to ask you to be my girlfriend officially. Private or however you want it, I want you to be mine officially.”
The rush of emotions that overcome you at his confession makes your heart swell with love. “Of course, P!” you reply quickly and louder than you thought. The grip on his hand squeezes tight from excitement.
You started the relationship as a proximity friendship that blossomed into more than friends. Your feelings for one another are always out in the open, but making it official with each other felt more than extraordinary.
The rest of your night was spent on a romantic walk down the beach, where Pedro had shot his commercial earlier in the day. You were touched because you had mentioned how you wondered how it looked when the sun was setting whenever you were there earlier. Pedro seemed a little more comfortable with a title to your relationship as he held your hand or kissed you more often than usual. You both were pleased as well. The night (and the rest of the weekend) was complete with superb passionate and freaky sex, along with sweet memories that you will remember forever.
The last three months have been the best for you and Pedro. You were both more comfortable with one another in every aspect of your relationship. Most of your friends were excited for you, while some were not. You stood up to the negative ones for your relationship and tried to ignore what they said, but it was hard. Pedro always supported you and did the same for your relationship, but neither of you tried not to give the haters any attention unless they overstepped the line.
After subtly posting and spending time in public with one another, both of your fanbases understood that you guys had finally made things official. Everyone, for the most part, loved the idea of you guys together. With much communication of boundaries and going more public with your relationship, Pedro knew not to let any of your issues into the light or make each other look bad, even if something happens in their lives.
You were working on your new album, which you should release soon. It was time to let out a single to get your fans excited about the album. You had written your new single about your newly established relationship with Pedro. It was called “Please, Please, Please,” and you planned to launch your ties in the music video.
“So, it’s like a criminal mafia love story where they locked eyes in prison?” Pedro asks you as you talked over the phone a few days before your music video shoot. And there was no better explanation of the music video than that description.
It was finally the day of the shoot, and you were more than excited to shoot it because it was quite a spicy video. Early in your career, you did take some action classes while you started your music career to help more in music videos to seem more natural. Now is the time for them to pay off because your fantastic partner in the video was Pedro, one of the most incredible actors in the modern era.
Pedro and you both got into your first outfits in the shoot, which happened to be in the prison scenes today. You dressed in a sexy tight-fitting outfit, and he wore a darker fit to make him seem more mysterious and bad, mafia energy. You both complimented each other as you got into your positions. The scene only took three shots, and it was only because Pedro would get too flirty or you once forgot your lyrics from staring at him too long and giggling.
“I think you chose these outfits to distract me, baby girl,” he whispers against your lips after finding each other between changing breaks. His statement was very true because you did get them to design these outfits just for him. His large hands pulled into him as he kissed you gently so as not to mess up your makeup.
Through the final shots with the car outside the prison and inside, Pedro devised an idea to make his character a protective mafia husband where his wife runs the show, but he still gets in trouble. Little submissive Pedro came out through the day, which you both loved. He was like a lost puppy to you anyway, so it didn’t even act when he would open your door for you to drive or beg for your attention.
His acting impressed you more with every scene, as you both got caught up in the moment. The final scene you two-shot was an initial one you had thoroughly planned.
It was set at night with Pedro sitting in only a white shirt and slim trousers as someone held down the brake lights that shadowed your face. You sing as you make your way to him. You sway your hips to tease him and handcuff him, pulling out the duct tape. Placing a piece of tape on his lips, you gave him a quick kiss, which made him let out a verbal moan, which caused you to work the teasing aspect of your acting.
The scene was probably the most passionate of the evening and only had to be shot twice. You felt that was all because of Pedro’s motivation to take all those teasing, sexy outfits off you all day. The director hollered ‘scene’ and walked over to Pedro as everyone worked around you, closing up shop for the end of the shoot. You smirked as you sat in his lap, wrapping your legs around him. You made sure that no one was paying attention as you kissed from his lips up to his ear. “You did so well today, puppy,” you whispered into his ear as you moved your hips against him, which made him moan lowly.
You smirk as you gently get off of him, not without running your fingers through his hair and down your chest, which makes him throw back his head in desperation. You teasingly walk behind him and untape and uncuff him. Pedro groans to you and meets your eyes with his dark eyes, begging you to meet him in the dressing room.
Both of you completed the necessary actions to complete the day. You quickly went to your dressing room, removed your jewelry, and waited for Pedro to change your outfit.
Less than five minutes later, the door opens quickly, and you are met with the brown curls of your lover. “Hello, baby,” he greeted you, quickly pulling you into your chest. He gives you a passionate kiss as his wandering hands work against your outfit and body. “You look so fucking sexy. I think I’ll worship you all night after today,” he practically begged you.
The moment you are changed from light making out to getting on top of Pedro, you take control of it. You both lay on the nice-sized couch inside your dressing room as you run your hands under his shirt and rock your hips. As you rub yourself against him, you feel his hardening member. He lets out a groan as he holds onto your hips to support you, letting you take control, and he loves it.
“Fuck, puppy. You were so fucking fine today,” you moan against his lips as you run your hands through his hair. “You deserve many rewards for being a good boy today,” you praise him as you grind against his hard-on.
The passion and love that you both feel for each other come out whenever you start to get sexual. He gives you many praises and complaints even if you were in control because you smite him. “I believe you need a lot of praise too, miss,” he desperately lets out as his hands roam their way down to your ass which he gives a nice squeeze.
“Oh really?” you ask as you raise your eyebrow and lick your lips at him. You give a little bit of your control as you let him flip you over. He runs his hands down your thighs and lifts your dress to go over your ass.
“Were you not wearing underwear the whole day, baby?” He asks with a raised eyebrow as a stern, jealous voice emerges. You let out a giggle and bite your lip, challenging him.
“And what if I was, puppy?” You teasingly ask as you spread your legs apart in front of his face and gently smack his hands as they try to touch you. You silently think of a plan that makes you grab your props from the little clutch you had earlier. You pull out the handcuffs with an evil laugh, cuffing Pedro’s hands together. “I dare you to try to eat me out with no hands. All that beautiful tongue has to do the work.”
He took the challenge very, very seriously. His tongue worked vigorously against your slit as you let out sweet moans. You ran your fingers through his curls and spread your legs around his face, resting your legs on his broad shoulders.
The feeling of his tongue was overwhelming you in pleasure as the sensitivity of your clit was tested by him. The scruff on his face was tickling you in the best way possible. He continues to feast on you like he had been thinking about all day.
“Stop, puppy,” you whined as you almost could see white, but you weren't ready yet. He immediately pulls away from you as you say something. “ lay back on your back, honey,” you order with a proud smirk. You pull the rest of your outfit off as you sit naked in front of him. His eyes wouldn't move off your beautiful body, almost drooling and pre-cum leaking from his imagination running wild.
He does as he’s told and lays on his back. “Good, puppy,” you say as you reach down to his pants. You make eye contact and ask for consent non-verbal as you motion to his pants. He groans and says, “God, yes, please.”
You indulge and pull his pants off as his giant hardened cock hits against his stomach with a whimper. You run your hands up leg and to his upper thigh as he lets out another desperate moan and throws his head back.
Teasingly, you spit into your hand and play with your breast as you let out a whimper from the pleasure you gave yourself. You hear him trying to calm his breath as he watches you proudly, but frustrated that it’s not him touching your beautiful body. Feeling tortured but so horny to watch you worship yourself.
After lubing up your breast enough, you run your fingers around his thick cock and moisten it up as well. You work his cock a little to get him more desperate for you. He lets out all kinds of moans and whimpers for you as you do. You glide his cock in between your breast as you hold them together.
“Fuck, mommy,” he lets out loudly from the contact of your soft breast. You can feel him try to thrust against your delicate skin which makes you smirk harder, but you don’t punish him. He has worked hard enough for this today. You work your tits against his shaft as he turns into putty against them with whimpers of pleasure.
“Such a good boy,” you whisper and watch him become pleased. ��You can come on my tits, baby,” you allow him as it doesn’t take long for him to thrust along with your motion until he turns into a moaning mess and squirts himself all over your breast and some hitting your face. You let out a fun giggle as he checks on you which you learn up and kiss him.
The kiss was very steamy as you were ready to feel his hands on your body again. Quickly finding the key to the cuffs, you unlocked your toy from his restraints. His hands hovered above your hips as he frantically locked eyes with you. “May I kiss and touch you, miss?” he asks and you gave him a wicked grin.
“You’re going to have to beg a little more than that, baby” yous state with a firm voice.
“Please, please, please, miss, may I have permission to touch and love on your beautiful body?” he pleads with hopeful eyes, to which you give him a big smirk and nod your head yes.
“Yes you may,” His hands were on you so quick as he gripped your hips. His wandering hands worshipped you as they gently caressed your breast. You let out a sharp moan from the contact especially as his lips met your nipples. “I want you to fuck me, puppy,” you deserpately let out as your pussy was begging for more contact from him.
He gives you a smirk and nods his head, gripping onto your hips. You position yourself on your knees for him to hit it from the back doggy style. Pedro was quickly ready again to perform to pleasure you. He lines himself up to your slick slit and gently inserts his large cock into you while you both let out a sound of pleasure. “So fucking fit, miss,” he lets out and runs his hands down your ass to where your back arches which cause goosebumps down your back.
“You fill me up so nicely, puppy,” you compliment him as he starts to thrust into you. The rhythm of your hips grind against one another so swiftly and passionately. The sound of your pleasure sounds the whole room from your bodies to the sounds coming from your mouths. Pedro was loosing control of himself as his thick fingers found their way to stimaute your clit as his thrust became rougher. “Fuck, baby, I’m going to cum soon,” you barely let out between your moans.
“Youre so fucking sexy,” he grunts out as he takes you in like this as he tries to give you a pleasurable release. He works his magic as you throw your head forward and let him have full control of your body as he continues to fuck you.
Soon, you both are trying to catch your breath from the intensity of your releases. “That was incredible, baby girl,” he says as he quickly gets up to find something to clean each other off. You agree and shower together, not without giving him plenty of kisses and praises. Between the video shoot and the intensity of the aftermath, once you guys made it back to Pedro’s house that night. You both found yourself passed out earlier than normal and late to rise the next morning.
The music video came out a few weeks after being edited, giving you and Pedro plenty of time to prepare for your relationship to go public.
The internet nearly broke once it was released. You were very proud of your work but relieved to have your relationship out in the open. Pedro posted on his Instagram a post about the video with a few behind-the-scenes photos and the caption “ Hard Launch,” which had a two-way meaning.
Sharing some behind-the-scenes photos from the shoot and relationship to promote the video and your relationship was bittersweet, including a few candid photos of Pedro from your trip to Mexico. You could freely share a good fan edit of Pedro like you had always wished.
You knew Pedro wouldn’t intentionally embarras or hurt you, but you had to remind him just in case.
thank you so much for reading! dividers and mood board by myself!
#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal#pedro pascal imagine#pedro pascal fanfiction#ppcu#ppcu fanfiction#joel miller imagine#joel miller x you#mrsmandalorian#mrsmandalorianfanfics#pedro pascal smut#joel miller smut
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More Than You Know
Pairing: Steve Harrington x FemReader(Plus-size!)
Warnings: fat shaming, body image issues, swearing, angst, lots of yelling, fluff
Summary: You had liked Steve since the day you met but you never entertained the idea of being with him because you figured a popular guy like him would never date a girl your size. Coming to terms with this didn’t mean you’d stop defending him in a world full of ungrateful girls. So you reach your breaking point when you’re sick and tired of watching girls miss out on something that would be so good for them. Thing was, Steve heard everything you had to say.
word count: 2047
Masterlist
“Looking good today Lola” you could practically see the smirk on Steve’s face from the sound of his voice. Looking up you saw his eyes trained on the blonde beside you, who had yet to put returns you had finished rewinding back on the shelf, her nail file much to important.
Lola Grant was everything you were not. Blonde, primp, perfect. Steve loved her for all of those things including her tiny waist. You on the other hand hated her for all of those things. She wore dresses with flower patterns and you still wore the same tattered converse, ripped and worn in all the best ways. Your jeans and Motley Crue T-shirt didn’t compare. You were not the same.
“Thanks Stevie” you hated the nickname, especially how it brought a smile the shaggy haired boys face.
“I was wondering if you were free Friday night, I’m having a movie night with the kids and was wondering if you wanted to join?” you had lost count of all the attempts Steve had made to ask the girl out. There had to of been a billion by now.
“Sorry Steve but that sounds pathetic spending Friday night with underage kids” she sneered, meanness dripping from her tone. Steves smile faltered only slightly and despite how much you hated him for still trying he was still your friend.
“Then what’s your ideal date Lola?” your tone was sharp, accusatory, and just plain angry that she couldn’t see how great a guy he was. Not that she deserved him anyway.
“A fancy dinner, wine, making out in a movie theater, third base in the back of a BMW. Nothing to do with babysitting” she responded promptly. Steve hummed with satisfaction, a dopey grin on his face. The sentence immediately making him forget how rude she was in the first place. His mind now only in the backseat of a BMW.
“Classy” you quipped, and she offered a forced smile but knew you were judging her. Yet a girl like you didn’t really get under her skin. How could you when you guys weren’t even in the same league of girls.
“We could do something else, maybe a movie?” you didn’t hide the roll of your eyes as Steve tried again.
“Maybe another time Stevie, I’m busy this weekend” a lie and you knew it, and maybe he did too. Finally picking up the stack of tapes you rewinded she moved off to place them on shelves.
“Get real Steve” you snipped, the moment she was out of ear shot.
“What’s your deal?” he asked and you shook your head, amused he couldn’t see how shitty she was.
“My deal is that girl sucks, you’ve got so much more going for you” you said pushing a new tape into the machine and hitting rewind. Steve moved behind the counter, taking Lola’s previous spot.
“She doesn’t suck, she’s cool and hot. Hard to get but I don’t give up” he smirked as he crossed his arms and you groaned, annoyed that he was so blinded by her fake appearance. She was nothing more than a girl who peaked in high school and Steve was so much more.
“She’s not cool nor is she hot. Don’t you ever think? If she actually had anything going for her she wouldn’t still be stuck here working in a video store” your anger caused the words to rattle out and Steves face dropped.
“Wonder what you think of me then?” you instantly realized your mistake and began shaking your head. You wished Robin wasn’t at school and was here to defend you.
“That’s not what I meant Steve-” but he was already shaking his head in offense and pushing himself off the counter.
“It’s exactly what you meant Y/N” he spoke harshly, hurt by his friend and the words you had spoke as he walked into the back room. Sighing you dropped your head on the counter, upset you pissed him off.
“What’s wrong? Did he deny you?” Lola chuckled as she returned to the counter now free of VHS tapes. Lola viewed life as a social ladder. She was on the top, Steve right below her, which is why she never dated him, and you were all the way on the bottom. She was out of Steve’s reach but you were miles away.
“No Lola, thanks for having faith in me” sarcasm laced your tone as you lifted your head.
“How could I have faith in you, you’ve never had a date in your life” she chuckled, annoyed you gave her so much crap when she saw you as absolutely nothing. She didn’t even think Steve should be talking to you.
“Shut up Lola” you spoke, not wanting anymore shit, already angry enough.
“You want to know why you haven’t had a date Y/N?” Lola expression turned menacing as she moved towards you, mean girl genes firing through her bones. “Because you’re fat, and weird, and no guy is attracted to that”
“You know what?” normally Lola would get to you, break your heart and allow tears to pool in your eyes. But today was your breaking point. She could treat you as badly as she wanted but you were done with her treating Steve like that.
“What?” her amused expression didn’t falter as she waited for some lame comeback bound to fall from your mouth.
“You’re a bitch Lola. Nothing more than a washed up high school mean girl. You’re gonna spend the rest of your life in this God forsaken town, running though men like their a God damn marathon, until you end up stuck with some creepy old man who knocked you up, and you’ll never be anything more than that girl from high school absolutely everyone hated” Lola was shocked as you continued to raise your voice at her, alerting Steve from the back room.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about” Lola began to shake her head but you were beyond angry now, laughing as you approached her. Steve moved to the door, listening to everything you both said.
“Yes I do, because everyday you treat Steve like shit when he thinks you’re the best thing on earth. Do you know how crazy that is? Steve is the greatest guy I know. He cares for so many people when he doesn’t even have to, including me, he even drives Robin to school everyday even if he doesn’t have to be up for work, because he’s such a great guy. He’s the kind of guy who would treat you right and every day for no fucking reason you tell him no” Lola opened her mouth to speak but you quickly held up a hand, not done with your spiel.
“Not to say you deserve a guy like that because you don’t, and twenty years from now, while your holding your child on the porch of your trailer home, you’re gonna be wishing you said yes to him. Every day I hope he’s gonna walk through those doors and ask me out instead because I know what he’s worth. He may be way out of both our leagues but at least I appreciate him. The only reason he still asks you is because you are the skinny, pretty girl, and that fucking stings. Yet I guess that’s how this cruel world works. So leave us both the fuck alone from now on” heavy breaths left your mouth as you finished, Steve having heard the whole thing, shocked to hear such passion come from you.
“Okay, I’m sorry” Lola muttered, before rushing from behind the counter. “I’m gonna take off, my shift is up anyway”
“Bye” you snipped, and she wore a guilty expression as she quickly collected her things and fled the building. You dropped your head back on the counter, now worked up from the drama. Steve finally walked out the back room, knowing Lola was gone.
“You think I ask her out because she’s prettier than you?” your shoulders tensed at his voice, not realizing he heard the whole thing. “Because you’re way prettier than her”
“Don’t lie to me right now Steve, guys don’t date big girls like me” you looked up as you shook your head at him. Steve didn’t care the enthuse the idea.
“I never asked you out because I thought you were too good for me” you furrowed your eyebrows as he continued to talk anyway. Steve had always thought you were pretty and on top of that you were also the best person he knew.
“I’m nothing special and you’re kinda the coolest person I know. I ask Lola out because she’s the kinda girl I’m gonna end up with, not because of her looks compared to yours. I’m just not good enough for you” you scoffed, not believing a word because you truly had never heard kind words like this before. It was also hard to believe he could feel like same way you had all this time, used to people avoiding you because of your size.
“I’m not looking for the you’re not fat, you’re beautiful speech. You weren’t supposed to hear what I said. So can we just drop it” you said turning away from him, uninterested in this lame attempt at making you feel better. You had accepted your fate a long time ago.
“You are beautiful Y/N. Fuck, why can’t you see that? I never asked you out because you were the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen and I didn’t want to ruin that” tears pooled in your eyes because if you let yourself believe him and it wasn’t true you weren’t sure you’d ever recover.
“You’re a great guy Steve, you wouldn’t ruin anything. I would” Steve’s heart warmed because he heard how you had defended him like that. Not even he thought he was so great and apparently you noticed him more than he thought you did.
“Thank you for defending me, and it made me realize that I do deserve someone who would defend me like that. So go out with me Y/N, and not just because of this whole thing, because I’ve wanted to date you since the day we met” you shook your head, the tears now falling down your face.
“Steve if you hurt me, I just can’t. I wouldn’t be able to handle it” Steve felt his heart break as he looked at you. Really looked at you and he felt terrible he had never made you realize how amazing you were in the first place. He was selfish staying away because you deserved to be shown you were just as beautiful as any girl Steve had dated.
“Let me prove you wrong” he said gripping your arms and you looked up at him, tear filled eyes, and he felt the wind get knocked out of him from the look in your eyes. The fact he never realized you loved him back before was shocking because he could see it written all over your face.
“Okay” you muttered and before you could even react he tugged your lips against his. Arms gripping you for dear life and your eyes were wide as you realized what he had done. He had kissed you and you had never even expected it. Then you realized how soft his lips were, how he tasted like cherries, and his warm mouth soothed every ache in your heart. Your hands gripped his shirt as you settled into the kiss, relaxation taking over you, eyes fluttering shut as he moved to wrap his arms around you. If you had known yelling at Lola would make Steve Harrington kiss you like this you would’ve done it a lot sooner. You weren’t even fully sure you were supporting yourself anymore, knees weak from the fire he has ignited in your stomach.
“Holy shit” Steve panted as he pulled away, a dopey smile on his face, because he had never felt like that from kissing a girl before.
“I know” you panted right along side him and he let out a giddy chuckle, moving to pull you back into his arms.
“I may not deserve you but after that I’m not going down without a fight”
#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington imagines#steve harrington smut#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x plus sized reader#steve harrington x you#joe keery#stranger things#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington x fem#steve harrington x ofc#steve harrington x y/n smut#imagine#stranger things imagine#netflix
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This town -Simon "Ghost" Riley
pic credits: @ave661 (middle and right)
Based on a request: (Its a long as so I'll link it so you can read the anons idea) Link here ---- F!Reader, childhood!friends, hidden feelings, angst, friends to strangers ---- A/N: Songs that also fit: Too Young- Louis Tomlinson, This Town- Niall Horan, Back to the Old House- The Smiths, Always you-Louis Tomlinson
It's a story to tell over at the old pub you and he used to hang around on the weekends. But how can a man begin to tell the sorrowful story? How can he explain in his bruised hands he holds the locket you gave him when you two were kids? He will maybe ask if this was a curse, the only curse an old soul like his has.
It could've been something, it would've been something, it should've been beautiful.
In this world, it was always he and you. Scraping your knees when jumping off the rocks near his home. Playing tag in the street until the moon greeted you and his mother would call his name. It's the kind of beginning all beautiful loves start with. Friends since childhood, went through life together and by 28, he would have proposed to the girl he had loved his whole life, 40s would be of dropping the kids at school, 50s of early retirement and 60s were for the potential grandkids, 70s would've been the stories shared of their early lives.
Would've...what a shit word that became in his life.
In the teenage years, after you had some glow-up, you became the girl everyone knew. The pretty, popular and funny girl the school knew of. He was the friend of the popular girl, the one people barely noticed or cared for. Simon was the same kid who always had a scar or bruise on his face, compliments from his father. One thing Simon hated more than the bastard of his father was the guy you were with. Bloke knows nothing but how to wank and fuck any living thing, he recalls.
Why were you with such a guy? It was a must. Like those cheesy movies where the pretty girl stays with the popular guy, all for the status of each other. Your feelings weren't real for that guy. He wasn't funny, wasn't smart and he wasn't Simon. The boy you shared a kiss with at age 7 because of an accidental bump whilst running through the grass.
It was during a small break between classes that you found him drinking water. You smile. He always did look good, even the stupid bruise on his jaw made him look so good.
"Y/N," he straightens up. "Simon," you smile cheekily. "Oh no, what's that smile for?" He crosses his arms over his chest and you can't help but get lost in his honey eyes. "Well...I was wondering if maybe we can...talk?" You say, unsure of how to word this confession. "Did my mum put you up to this?"
"No, this is...me just wanting to talk."
"Go on," his voice softens. Does he always do this for you?
You hesitate, but what is life without words? You breathe in and say, "I like you...there I said it and... don't stay quiet because you know I get nervous and I will continue to just talk and talk and talk and-"
He cuts you off by saying, "I'm sorry, Y/N, I... don't..think..this..well I just don't feel that way for you. We're friends, nothing more," he ends his part of the conversation, pats your back as he walks away and you are left in the corridor of the school alone.
As Simon walks to his classroom, his heart and mind fight the words that he had just said to you. Why was that mean? Did I even mean to say them? He thinks.
Graduation happens. You and he never talked after that day. Not even a congrats or a hug, life went on without him in your life. Throughout those last months in school, he felt a feeling of regret when he'd see you with that guys arm around you. He would occasionally walk around the old park just to see if you would still go on your daily walks.
By the time he was about to leave town, he found himself at the old house. He heard your parents moved to a new part of town, so if this was the last time he heard of you, it better be on his terms. And as he walks through the pavement, he finds himself looking at your window. He leans over a car, lights a cigarette and just waits to see if maybe you or some ghost roamed the home.
Was it the feeling of losing a friend that hurt or losing his one chance to feel something other than pain and hatred? Maybe it's just nervous, after all, he leaves tomorrow.
You were both just 16, it was puppy love, nothing would've lasted if he reciprocated those feelings, right?
And if it was, why does he feel some kind of hurt as he packs his bags? Why does he want to run to your new home and call your name? Is there a reason why? It's not love, it can't be love, he thinks. I'm not worthy of that, you've heard my dad, he says out loud. "Simon?" Tommy opens the door. "Tommy, not today," he looks back at his bag. "...Fuck" he whispers.
It's been a long nineteen years since he last saw you and heard your precious voice laugh at a cheesy joke of his. Nineteen years and the feeling in his chest is still there when he arrives home. Manchester was always home for him, it was the only place he knew best when he came back.
One day, as he was cleaning his closet, looking for his dog's leash, something fell and hit his head. "What the fu-" he looked down and there it was.
"Why give me this?" A thirteen-year-old Simon asked you. You smile, "You said you wish you could always be near me so you can feel safe...and since I'm going to my nans for the week, have this locket on you, and I swear I'll be there. Keep it safe, okay?" you kiss his forehead before entering the car. He nods and waves, "Call me, Y/N, please!" he calls out and you nod. "Every day!" you scream out as the car drives further away.
A smile falls on his silent lips, "...Y/N..." his thumb caresses the design. Once he opens it, he feels as if he is that young again. "Are you still there, Y/N?" He whispers and then, realisation hits. It was never nerves or whatever bullshit he told himself back then, it was love, always has.
All the dots are connecting. For the past nineteen years, he always had some love or whatever all those hookups and awful relationships were, but never did they stick around. Never did he feel more for them than what he has always felt for you. His cold heart still beating warm when he thinks of you. You are all he has ever known, the smiles, the late-night confessions, stories, the silly inside jokes, the feeling in his chest today.
He hasn't seen you in years, what if you don't remember him? What if when you see him, your heart doesn't call his name when he screams yours? Will you ever even forgive him? Will you wrap your arms around him and call him home like he has called you?
He must find you, so he calls and looks for you in every corner of this place. He finds nothing, just more lost hope at every corner he looks into. His heart and mind excited each other at the thought this would be some sappy romance moment. His mind creating a script, all truths, just finding better words to tell you he loves you, loved you the moment you kissed the similar scar on the knee at the park when he cried over the pain. He's loved you from the day he learned to say your name.
Why does he miss you so much today?
Why must you be the drug his body needs? God does he miss you and your addictive heart.
He has been around the world, where he could've found a good woman who made him happy but no, his heart has always belonged to one girl. You.
By the time he gets the street right, he finds you sitting down and as he smiles and nearly runs to you, he stops when he sees this image of you.
Sitting by the fountain, he sees you and a man. His arms wrap around your body, giving you darling kisses as you chuckle. It was then that Simon Riley knew this was it. He will spend his entire life wandering earth, looking for another soul like yours. You didn't see him of course, your fiance capturing all your attention. Simon was close to not caring and pulling you away from that man, but that would be cruel. And as he tries to make up excuses for this man being near you, he sees the ring.
Oh...oh you fool, he thinks.
His heart is near death. It screams your name, trying to find you so it can keep beating but when you don't whisper, Simon nods and lets his heart die. Let it rot, so it can learn its lesson, he thinks.
It would've never bloomed, Simon and you...right?
It's no use to even go and say hi. The locket that contained your picture was still in his fist. It'll be the last reminder of what was meant to be a life romancing in dark streets through town.
In his head, the home you dreamed of will forever be just a dream. No four kids, no library, no big kitchen so you and he can dance around at midnight. No you...no him...it'll all be stuck and dead in this town.
He crossed rivers, mountains, and enemies and survived wounds soldiers like him get, all to come home to you. And all this was for nothing. In his world, he would've married you, given you chubby babies and late Saturday mornings. No gun, no bomb and no other man would've kept him away from you.
In his mind, he is with you. In his dead heart, he sits by and watches that chubby baby learn to walk. He would've adored seeing you in a white dress, walking to him as he wiped tears away when he d his dream of a perfect life was minutes away from being real.
What a mess he is as he asks for another drink. A mess he never should have been if he had told you that your name is carved all over his body.
It was this town that saw him live and it'll be this town that sees him die because if he can't have you, at least he has this place.
A/N: Remember, I collect tears for potions, so please drop them by for collection, thank you. - The place of tears co.
Tags: @liyanahelena @mangowafflesss @goldenmclaren @ghostslillady @moonsua1 @rvivienner @Krinoid24 @iruzias @frazie99 @idklols @saoirse06 @vampsquerade @Juneonhoth @tiredmetalenthusiast @jinxxangel13 @enarien @Simonssweetgirl @luvecarson @willowaftxn83-87 @ikohniik @nobodys-coffee @strawberrychita @sae1kie @queen-ilmaree @pbcartii @Llelannie @Macnches2 @bbyfimmie @avidreadee123 @talooolaaloolla @skelletonwitch @bittermajesties @Nyx_Flower @honestlyhiswife @who-can-appease-me @ghostwifeyy @konigssultwithghost @kaoyamamegami @beansproutmafia @soapybutt17 @asianbutnotjapanese @a-goose-with-a-knife @foxface013 @sleepyycatt @believeinthefireflies95
#cod mw2#cod#cod x reader#mwii#ghost cod#call of duty#simon riley cod#simon riley#simon riley call of duty#simon riley imagine#simon riley x you#ghost mw2#simon riley x reader#cod ghost#ghost call of duty#ghost riley#ghost angst#simon riley angst#cod angst#simon ghost riley#simon ghost x reader#simon ghost x you#simon ghost riley x you#simon riley x reader angst#simon riley x y/n
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𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 | 𝓒𝓛16
pairing: charles leclerc x reader
series summary: Kika and Pierre invite you to their engagement party where you meet her and Pierre’s friends from F1, specifically, a certain handsome Monegasque driver.
chapter summary: You and Charles stay up talking about your dreams, fears, insecurities, and things that haunt your mind when you're alone.
chapter warnings: vvv emotional, feminism (oh no! jk), derogatory remarks, swearing, mental health, mentions of death (herve, jules, tonio)
playlist: ♫ gorgeous ♪ delicate ♬ i think he knows ♡ you are in love
author's note: Part 2 means we're halfway there!! For this chapter, I focused on the delicate's chorus to show the more vulnerable and "human" side of the characters. I will add the other aspects of the song to the following chapters. I also wrote this in a different style but I hope u guys like it. <333 Lastly, thank you all so much for almost 500 likes on the first chapter. ·°՞(≧□≦)՞°·. screaming! crying!
word count: 3.5k
disclaimer: All characters and events in this story, even those based on real people, are entirely fictional.
𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞
01:57 ━━━━●───── 03:52 ⇆ㅤ ㅤ◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷ ㅤㅤ↻ ılıılıılıılıılıılı ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▮▮▮▮▮
The light beamed into your eyes from the window, intensifying the pounding in your head and increasing your thirst. As you opened your eyes, you squinted against the brightness, gradually adjusting to the sudden flash. Sensing movement beside you, you turned around to find Charles sleeping shirtless beside you. Memories of the previous night flooded back, replaying in your mind.
Before leaving the party with Charles, you looked for Kika to inform her of your departure. Seeing Charles waiting for you near the elevator, phone in hand, she expressed concern with a worried expression. Charles had recently ended a three-year relationship, and his ex happened to be the best friend of his previous ex. Kika was well aware of Charles' red flags, as she knew you, her dear friend Y/N, were known for wholeheartedly loving and falling hard for others who often failed to appreciate you as you deserved.
“Please be careful,” She smiled at you to which you nodded. She watched as you approached Charles and he smiled upon seeing you. As you waved farewell to Kika, she softly whispers to herself, “with each other’s hearts.”
You and Charles found yourselves seated on the floor of your hotel room's living room, uncomfortable party clothes off, cozy hoodies on, and legs crossed, with a spread of chips, beer, and mini alcohol bottles laid out before you. During your conversation, you discovered your shared value of family, discussing the strong relationships you both had with your loved ones.
"Are you close to your mom?" It was a question you always asked the guys you were interested in. You believed that a man who had a good relationship with his mother would treat his partner with love and respect. Although it didn't always turn out to be true, you still posed the question.
"Yeah, the first thing I do when I return to Monaco is visit her. You know, she's the only one I trust to cut my hair?" Charles smiles warmly, reminiscing about his mom. "You see, she's a professional hairdresser. So, sometimes when she watches me on TV, she'll send me a text saying I need a haircut. I just reply with her flight details to come see me, and we laugh about it, but she still comes over. That's why I've never had a bad haircut!"
"That is adorable! How often does she visit and watch your races?" You ask, eager to know more about his mother.
"Well, not as often as I'd like, that's for sure. She usually accompanies Arthur to his races."
"Races? He races too?"
"Yeah, he competes in Formula 2. Sometimes the Formula 1 and 2 races coincide on the same weekends so I get to see them both." You're momentarily taken aback. Wow, they must be RICH rich!
"Formula 2? How many Formulas are there?!" You exaggerate.
"Just three, cheri," he chuckles. "You know, my dad used to race in Formula 3 back in the '90s."
"So, it runs in the family, huh? What does your dad do now?" You inquire, looking down and grabbing a chip. The room falls into an unexpected silence, and you glance up, noticing a soft and melancholic expression on his face.
"Well, actually, I lost my dad seven years ago," he replies, offering a tight-lipped smile.
"Oh, Charles! I’m sorry, I had no idea..." Shock overtakes you, and you instinctively cover your mouth with your hand. Is that why he’s only been talking about his mom and brothers the whole night?
He interrupts, "No, it's okay. I think I’m getting used to talking about it. You know, they always interview me about their deaths. Sometimes I feel like they don't truly respect them, or me, and they just want me to talk about them for views and content."
"Deaths?" You're taken aback, struggling to comprehend the weight of his words.
"Yeah, over the past seven years, I've lost three important people in my life. My dad, my godfather Jules, and one of my best friends, Tonio."
"Charles, I'm so sorry to hear that. How have you been coping?" Rising from the floor, you move closer to him, placing a comforting hand on his thigh.
"Sometimes I find myself spiraling into these depressive episodes where I just want to close off my heart. Because if you close your heart, no new people can enter, only to leave again." He looks away, his eyes welling up with tears. Your expression softens, and he musters a small smile in your direction. He continues, his voice filled with emotion, "I've tried it before, but I realized that it doesn't make anything easier. These days, I just choose to remember them for who they were, their lives, their dreams, and the sacrifices they made for me to be where I am today."
You were taken aback at Charles’ maturity. The mere thought of losing someone dear to your heart was overwhelming, and here he was, having experienced the loss of not just one, but three significant people in his life. You couldn't help but admire him for getting through his hardships and finding happiness in the time he shared with them. Especially since he uses it as motivation to be a better person.
As your conversation continued, you decided to shift to a lighter topic in an attempt to lift Charles' spirits. You shared stories of performing in numerous countries, while Charles recounted his experiences racing in Formula 1 events across the globe. You laughed at how unfamiliar you were with his sport, just as he was with your music.
He asks if you have your phone with you.
"Um, it's somewhere around here," you respond while searching for it. Eventually, you spot it on the kitchen counter. "Why?"
"Just open Apple Music or Spotify, whichever you prefer," he says with a mischievous grin as you sit back down in front of him. You nod and show him that Apple Music is open.
"Now search for my name," he instructs, and you type his name, discovering that he is listed as an 'artist'. There’s no way…
"Charles Leclerc Artist? How are you an artist?" you raise an eyebrow at him and glance back at your phone. You notice that he has released two songs in the past year.
He laughs at your confusion. "Well, Ms. Grammy singer, I also play the piano. I wrote these songs last year and finished them around the time of the Australian GP and the Miami GP, which is why they're named AUS23 and MIA23."
You're shocked, your mouth hanging open dramatically as you listen to the songs. Charles laughs at your reaction. You didn't think he could become any more attractive, and now he surprises you with this. Could he be the incarnation of your dream man?
"That's amazing! I guess I know who to call when I need help with a song," you wink at him, and he chuckles.
"No, no. You're at least 100 times better than me. I don't have as much talent as you do to write lyrics for the music," he praises you.
“Okay, since you know a bit about my art and making a song and all that, I, on the other hand, have no fucking idea about Formula 1. Like, why do you have to travel all around the world and race on different tracks? Is it like some kind of world tour?" You burst into laughter at your own humorous analogy, and Charles, who was as intoxicated as you, finding it amusing as well.
“Do you really want to understand it?” You nod at his question as he sits up straight and stretches his head and hands, “warming up” to explain.
"You see, every race weekend is different. Let’s say you do Plan A for this weekend, sometimes it works, and we get podium. But sometimes despite our best efforts, it doesn’t. So, after the race, we talk about what went right and what went wrong and then we make a new plan for the next race. Do you understand so far?”
You nod at him. Though a slight confusion still lingered in your mind, you couldn't help but be captivated by the passion radiating from his every word. The way his eyes sparkled, and his voice exuded genuine excitement revealed the depth of his love for his job. In that moment, you realized that this wasn't merely a profession to him; it was a true calling, a relentless pursuit of excellence that fueled his spirit.
"I still don’t understand. Maybe being there and watching it firsthand can help me. What do you think?" you playfully suggest, winking at Charles as you extend your legs onto his lap. He responds by grabbing your leg with his left hand and dramatically clutching his heart with his right, feigning a heart attack. "Oh, amour, the thought of you in red."
As your connection deepened, you both began to open up and share parts of yourselves that were usually kept hidden. You spoke honestly about your doubts, worries, and the overwhelming thoughts that haunted you when you were alone.
"Can I ask you something?" you inquire, looking up at him.
"Go ahead," he replies, grabbing a chip and taking a bite.
"Have you read about me? Like on the internet, in articles or magazines?"
"I see the headlines, but I don’t really read them, so let's just go with a 'no,'" he says, wiping the salt and dust from his hands. "Why do you ask?"
"Well, I’m sure I already know your answer, but doesn't it bother you sometimes, the things they write about you?" you question, and he nods, encouraging you to continue. "It's just that they always make comments about my personal life, especially with the people I choose to be with."
"Yeah, well, those people's lives are so miserable that they have nothing better to do than try to ruin ours," he jokes, attempting to lighten the mood, and you find yourself laughing.
You glance down at your lap, your hands fidgeting as you gather your thoughts, when Charles interrupts, taking your hand. "Hey, I know it sucks, but I think it's something that comes with success. It bothers me too when they do that to me. Look, I won't pretend to fully understand what you're going through because I know I don't."
You look up at him, puzzled. "Do you remember earlier at the party when you arrived before me? When your car pulled up at the restaurant, they went crazy. Now, I've been in front of cameras since I was a kid, and I know a thing or two about paparazzi, but I've never seen fame like yours before. They were taking so many pictures of you that it didn't even look like flashes anymore, it’s like someone had switched on a blinding light for those few seconds you walked from your car to the door."
"I couldn't really see you because of the crowd, but when I heard them shouting your name, it just made sense. Don't tell the engaged couple, but I'm 100% sure you were the best thing at the party. " he winks at you. "But still, that doesn't make it okay. The reason they act like that is because they are taking advantage of your popularity. They think that getting a good picture of you, or a story, out of you or even something they made up, is big money.”
You’ve thought of this before, the way they treat you is different from other celebrities, but you hesitated to bring them up, fearing it would make you appear arrogant. It was a nice change to discuss about your life, popularity and the challenges that come with it, and to be met with Charles' honest and genuine response. You look back at the times you talked about this with a partner, and how they dismissed your concerns, labeling you as ungrateful, overreacting, or even a drama queen. The contrast in reactions causes you to appreciate Charles' maturity, understanding and support.
Despite your seemingly different lives, his centered around sports, yours with music, your personalities and passion for your respective crafts and families made you remarkably similar. With every word exchanged, the infatuation between you grew stronger.
So, at 4 am, while leaning against the balcony of your hotel room, a comfortable silence settled between you.
“I’m going to be honest with you, I’ve never experienced this before.” Charles says softly. “Staying up at this hour and talking about my life and the shit I go through to a girl I’ve only met for 8 hours now. It makes me feel like I want to tell you my whole life. It feels…” He trails off, a loss for words.
“I get what you mean. I never thought we would have a lot in common, especially since from the outside, it looks like we’re living different lives. But it looks like we're not so different after all.”
“Y/N, I know it’s too soon because we’ve only just met but I really want to get to know you better.” He faces you and draws himself closer. His green eyes pierce your Y/E/C eyes, he smiles genuinely at you.
As you gaze at him, your heartbeat quickens. You can’t tell if this is real life because you’re experiencing emotions you’ve never felt before. Here stands a guy who is caring, grounded, and by the way, absolutely gorgeous, and he is genuinely interested in getting to know you. Your thoughts waver back and forth, questioning whether this is okay. Is it cool that I’ve shared everything in my mind with him? Is it chill that he’s in my head?
Your mind and heart go into battle. Think! After all, you've only known this person for eight hours! Eight hours, Y/N! On the other hand, what if this is actually okay? Could this be the story of you meeting "the one"? Or your soulmate?
You tried to find a compromise.
Blushing, you gazed up at him and agreed, “I feel the same way. But can we take it slow? I never like to rush things, especially relationships.”
He nods and hugs you from behind. “Is this alright?”
You hummed and you both stayed there, watching the stars and the beautiful view of Florence.
You didn’t want the night to end, and you couldn’t imagine saying goodbye to him right now. So you tried to make up excuses for him to stay. “But, you know, it’s too dangerous to drive at this hour.”
“Cheri, there is no such as thing as a time that is too dangerous to drive.” He chuckles at your cuteness. “Plus, I’m a Formula One driver, I think I can handle myself.”
“No, you can’t because we just finished doing shots like three hours ago! And what if other drunk people are driving around too?”
Charles lightly laughs at your stubbornness. He knows you’re too prideful to just tell him to stay the night, especially after you both agreed to keep things slow. He sees you avoiding his gaze, so he addresses you, “Y/N.”
As you looked up, he smiled at you and gently holds your chin and locking eyes. "Je suis folle de toi.” he uttered.
Confused, you smiled in anticipation, knowing he had likely said something sweet. Seconds later, he translated himself, the proximity between your faces nearly undoing you. "I am crazy about you.”
...
Carefully locating your phone, you closed the bedroom door behind you. Retrieving two water bottles from the mini fridge in the kitchen, you settled on the couch in the living room of your hotel suite, resting your legs on the coffee table.
You check your messages and there were some from Kika, and your management team. Kika texted you and said to meet her for brunch at 11. Though, with a Monegasque driver in your bed, you don’t know when you can leave, so you move on to the other conversations, keeping in mind that you reply to her soon.
Your management team’s group chats were asking where you are and who you were hanging with. You read their earlier messages and saw that there are articles and pictures of you and Charles leaving the party last night. You open your Twitter account and see the two of you are trending. Of course, we are.
You scrolled through the tweets and some fans were happy, some were not, some just... don't have any opinion. And you prefer the latter. Reading the tweets of the fans was one thing, but the way the media and articles talked about you was different. It's like they didn't have respect you.
The articles get to you, Why is there so much scrutiny around my dating life? They called you a serial dater, manipulator, etc., even creating "warnings" about you for Charles; saying you're just gonna break his heart and write a song about him.
You furrow your brow, wondering why they single you out like this and why other women aren't subjected to the same level of scrutiny. It's frustrating because they never say these things about other people, especially men in the industry who engage in similar dating behaviors. Your male friends in the industry can date different people or even cheat and sing about it without raising any eyebrows. But when it comes to you, the accusations fly.
When they accuse you of "jumping" from one relationship to another, they label you a player or claim you cheated. If you choose to casually date without exclusivity, they call you a slut. It never ends. Where do they expect me to stand? When will it all just stop?
You start to question whether the people you want to be with have seen what has been written about you and if your reputation, which may be based on something fake, can affect the real connections you might make. You begin to ponder the significance of it all and how much weight a reputation actually carries.
It's unfair. Your personal life should be yours alone, and people should mind their own business. If this is the price you pay for sharing your music and being famous, you want no part of it anymore. It feels like they don't respect you as a human being.
Hot tears stream down your face as your thoughts consume you, overwhelming you completely. Seeking solace, you sink from the couch to the floor, resting your chin on your knees. It's a familiar position, offering some comfort when you're feeling low. The grounding sensation reminds you that you're still here.
Unbeknownst to you, Charles already woke up and was also reading messages from his team. He was about to greet you when he heard you sniffling. He slowly opens the door and sees you on the ground, knees to your chest, crying. Suddenly, he understands the pain you're going through. He felt awkward. He didn't know whether to comfort you or pretend to go back to bed.
But Charles can't resist the sight of your shattered state. He pushes the door open fully and gazes at you, broken and vulnerable. His heart shatters alongside yours. Slowly, he approaches and sits in front of you, taking in the magnitude of your pain. You're startled, having forgotten he was sleeping in the other room. You wonder if he knows what you're crying about, if he's seen the internet already, but the thought pushed back behind your head when a pair of warm, gentle hands cups your face, thumbs trying to wipe away your tears.
"What's wrong, mon ange?" he asks softly.
"Everything. The things they say about me... they're so mean. They're ruining my name, my reputation..." You manage to utter between sobs.
"Shh.. I know, cheri. But I don't care about what they write, alright? I want to know you. The real you." He comforts you. Running his hand up and down your arm as you find solace in his comforting embrace.
For the next ten minutes, you pour your heart out to him, releasing your pent-up emotions. When Charles senses that you had calmed down, he fetches the water bottle from the table and hands it to you. You finish it in one go.
"Feeling a little better now?" He offers, his considerate nature shining through. You smile and nod, appreciating his thoughtfulness.
"Have you eaten anything yet?" he asks, showing his concern for your well-being. You shake your head for a no.
“Do you feel like going downstairs, or should we order room service?" Going for a walk would be refreshing, and it might help improve your mood, but given that you've just bared your soul to him, you don't feel like going out. More importantly, you remember that you'll encounter numerous people and potentially face unwanted attention when you're seen again with Charles.
"We? You don't have to stay here with me. I feel better already." You face him, pulling away from his embrace. You instantly regret it as you start to feel cold already, missing the warmth of his body against yours.
"And I'm not leaving until you feel your best again. So, restaurant or room service?" He asks again. God, he is even more hot when he's stern... and caring about my well-being, of course.
Considering your current state, you prefer the comfort of staying within the confined space of your room, cuddled up next to him. "Room service, please."
↠ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ˢᵒⁿᵍ 𝐢 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧���� 𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐬
#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc x reader#f1#formula 1#ferrari#charles leclerc imagine#f1 fic#cl16#cl16 x reader#charles leclerc x y/n#pierre gasly#francisca kika gomes#gorgeous#taylor swift#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc fanfiction#f1 imagine#f1 imagines#f1 x reader#f1 x you#f1 x y/n#f1 fluff#f1 fanfiction#f1 fanfic#⋆。°✩#crueisummer works
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What do every Sprunki think of Gray?
Oren: "He's chill, bro. He's got good taste in music." Raddy: "Eh. He keeps out of my space and I keep out of his." Clukr: "According to my observations, Gray is a rather stoic individual. His lack of physical expression betrays his ability to feel emotions, and he can be quite hard to read at times. I can only make guesses as to how he feels based on context clues." Fun Bot: "Oh, Gray! He requests interesting songs from his favorite bands! It's always a new experience when he comes up to ask me to play something!" Vineria: "We're at similar wavelengths. Our auras blend well."
Brud: "Gray? Me like Gray! Gray is friend!" Garnold: "Gotta say, the kid's got interesting artistic interpretations of robotics. I didn't even know what divine machinery was until I heard him go through a whole rant about it! He's a cool one, I'll tell you that." OWAKCX: "G- Gray…oh, well, he- …h-he doesn't really…um…w- we don't…talk that much, you know? Hoohoo-! S- So, I, I- I don't know much about him, eh…e-except the fact that h- he wears the same shirt every day, hoho…" Sky: "Gray is so cool! He's got edgy makeup, edgy clothes, edgy music, everything's edgy! I want to be cool like him!"
Mr. Sun: "Ah, our very own Neutral Sprunki! There's a charm to his poker face that only he can pull off!" Durple: "Ahaha! You speak of my deadpanned companion? I've known him since we were Sprunklings! We were both losers without friends or anyone to chitter with at lunch, you see. Except I, in my ever-present radiance, was spared by the hells of torment he had to go through during those highschool years! That's not to say I condone it, no no no. I am HIGHLY against treating our very own emo boy with such exclusionism!" Mr. Tree: "I have been with him for every rest he takes every day in the afternoon. He brings peace to this bright and colorful town." Simon: "Well gee, Gray's one of my greatest friends! He's responsible and he always knows what to do in even the scariest situations! Don't tell him this, but…he's like a big brother to me! Yeah, we're the same age and unrelated but I don't care! He's big bro Gray to me!" Tunner: "Th' lad's in his own lil' world sometimes. He's a good kid. Never gets into any sorta trouble. Don't got a clue about the things he rambles on about sometimes, but I ain't gon' stop 'im whenever he does that. It's his passion."
Mr. Fun Computer: "He may not look like it, but he knows how to have fun in his own way! He visits me a lot! Though, he usually doesn't use my search engine or anything, like everyone else would. He just likes to come by and have conversations with me. It's nice!" Wenda: "So, like, big backstory dump, but…I actually hated Gray's guts. I dunno why. I was an evil kid! Like, so evil. I shoved him in the hallway and called him dumb and fat and whatever. Real talk, I was so mean to him. So like, him forigivng me was like, SUPER surprising. Like, what do you mean you forgive me?? Sure I regretted it and I apologized to his face but I didn't think he'd actually be, like, cool with me now! Anywayy. We're buddies now. We hang out and all that, soooo yeah. Happy ending! I hope." Pinki: "Gray is such a sweetheart! He helps me out at the bakery sometimes, even though he doesn't like having to deal with cooking oil…I really appreciate it whenever he comes by to help!" Jevin: "Within that anti-expression he wears, Gray is a Sprunki with passions to share."
Black: "He's not too bad, I suppose." Saves: "Sorry, who is…? Ah, yes! The horned one with the dirty shirt…ah, I remember now. Gray…he's so kind and generous. He is the same one who visits me every weekend, isn't he? Yes…he helps around the house. We tell stories to each other. He's precious." Ciqu: "He abides. I have no strong opinion of him." Sprinkles: "Heehee! Gray is fun! He takes care of me and Sky sometimes! He's like a big brother, but he doesn't have any little siblings…which is a bit sad, because he's fun as a brother!" Calvin: "Gray is super cool. And also fun to play pranks on! He doesn't get mad, so it's a little funny!" (edit 12/8/24: X FORGOT CIQU...XM SO SORRY MR POLICEMAN....)
#sprunki#sprunki au#incredibox sprunki#sprunki incredibox#sprunki mortality#sprunki mortality au#sprunki gray
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better than revenge
summary: you don't hate jungkook's best friend. no, you just really, really dislike her and her very apparent crush on your boyfriend
pairing: jungkook x y/n
genre: fluff, angst
wc: 2.6k
warnings: jungkook is so clueless, y/n talks about hitting people a lot, light making out, arin is very annoying
note: please comment or send me an ask to let me know what you think! this is my first post on here, i'm very nervous lol. i really hope you enjoy it !!
(loosely based on better than revenge by taylor swift, enjoy </3)
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You and Jungkook had been looking forward to this trip to Hawaii for months. The two of you were excited to spend some time away from the stresses of everyday life and just enjoy each other's company. You had invited your friends, fellow couples Taehyung and Jennie, and Jimin and Jiyeon. Jungkook proposed, much to your dismay, that you could also ask Arin to tag along. Arin was his childhood friend, and as much as you tried to like her for your boyfriend's sake, it was so glaringly obvious how not so friendly her attraction was for him. You had brought this up to Jungkook when you first began dating, but he brushed it off, saying they both saw each other as brother and sister and that she was nothing to worry about.
You still had your reservations regarding her, but you didn't put up more of a fight, deciding instead to trust your boyfriend and his loyalty and love for you. The eight of you had just arrived at your hotel and were settling in your rooms. You and Jungkook shared a room, while Taehyung and Jennie, Jimin and Jiyeon, and Arin each had their own rooms.
"Baby?" Jungkook asks. You turn your head in question. "Do you wanna go surfing real quick? We have nothing to do today besides the dinner reservation later tonight."
You smile. The pair of you loved surfing, you began doing it together shortly after you started dating, and it became a sacred tradition you guys had. Every weekend, you would drive to the nearby beach by your shared apartment, surfboard in tow, and surf for hours.
"Of course, my love, let me unpack our clothes first and change into my bathing suit." He nods, squeezing your waist lightly. As you were unpacking, Arin came into your room to chat with Jungkook. Awkwardly, you shuffle into the bathroom to avoid unneeded interaction with her.
"So, have you decided what you want to do first?" Arin asks, trying to make conversation.
"I think we're going to hit the beach and maybe do some surfing," Jungkook replies. Your eye twitches, and you have to restrain every bone in your body from reaching over and slapping him over the head.
"That sounds like so much fun!" Arin exclaims. "Can I come with you guys?"
"Uh, sure," You say, trying to hide your annoyance. Of course. You feel your neck tighten in what you presumed to be pent-up frustration, yet, you know this was only the beginning. 'Whatever,' you thought. You were aware Arin couldn't surf, so you didn't feel bothered. You knew you could leave her behind to swim alone while the pair of you caught some waves.
You should've known that Arin wouldn't keep her mouth quiet, though, because soon enough, the whole group was clambering into your small room, all rambling about how excited they were to surf. You didn't want to sound rude, but you and Jungkook hadn't spent much alone time together recently, and the thought of spending at least a few hours by yourselves sounded so good. You plaster a fake smile, and Jungkook sends you an apologetic one.
The group of you headed down to the beach, and like you predicted, Arin kept trying to join in, but she wasn't very good and kept falling off her board. Your satisfied smile turns sour, though, once Jungkook moves to grab her by the waist and set her back on her own two feet. You wish you could dunk his head underwater and hold him there.
After a while, you all returned to the hotel to prepare for dinner. As you were getting dressed, Arin once again made herself at home in your room, chatting with Jungkook about how he needed to teach her how to surf. Your annoyance was bubbling over at this point because as soon as you walked out of the bathroom, you realized Arin was wearing a dress similar to the one you were in.
This, of course, wouldn't have been a problem; coincidences happen! Yet, you knew you weren't being dramatic in your anger because this was the very same dress you had bought in the resort's small boutique that afternoon when you guys first arrived. The same boutique that all eight of you entered at the same time and where you spent an hour deciding which of the dresses you and the other girls should get and wear for dinner that night. You had all, Arin included, picked out four very different dresses. Your dress was decided by both yourself and Jungkook as he gloated about how beautiful you looked in it. Did she … Did she really go back and buy your same dress?
"Hey, Arin, that's the same dress I was going to wear tonight," You say, slightly annoyed.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I realized later that the one I had initially picked out wasn't flattering on me," Arin replies, not sounding very apologetic.
You quirk an eyebrow, "Hmm, that's so weird because you kept saying how it made you look so good back at the store!" A fake smile on display, you brush past her and make your way toward your boyfriend, struggling to button up his shirt.
"Be nice," He whispers. You finish buttoning up his shirt and reach up to smack him on the forehead. He could be really stupid.
You tried to brush it off, for Jungkook's sake, and you all headed out to dinner. During the meal, Arin kept trying to talk to Jungkook, ignoring you completely. Gritting your teeth at another one of her aggravating laughs, you settle a hand on Jungkook's shoulder, excusing yourself to the bathroom.
Resting your hands on the sink, you try to catch your breath. One, two, three. Breathe in, breathe out. One, two, three. Feeling a lot better now and not like you were going to throw a plate at the annoying girl, you splash some water on your face. You hear the creak of the bathroom door opening, and you tense up, fearing it is the one person you don't want to see.
"Oh my god, y/n, you need to come back right now. I can't stand being near that wench for another second." Jennie whines, reaching to wrap her arms around your waist. With a sigh of relief, you turn around to crush her into a hug.
"Girl, I might throw myself out of the balcony any second. She's being so weird with Jungkook!" You whine back, causing the girls to nod.
"I noticed. If she did that with Jimin, trust me she would be lost at sea." Jiyeon giggles, brushing my hair out of my face. You smile weakly at her, and the three of you link arms and return to the table.
"There's our girls!" Taehyung announces, getting the table's attention. Jungkook immediately looking over, reaching an arm out toward you and pouting his lips. You grab his arm and lean down to give him a light kiss, and he smiles into it.
"You okay, baby?" He asks. You reply with a curt nod. He frowns, noticing your obvious mood shift, yet before he can ask you what's up, his attention is again on Arin as she continues talking about whatever the hell she is talking about.
As the night went on, you started to feel increasingly uncomfortable. You noticed that Arin honestly did not care. She looked so pathetic, reaching over to slap a hand on his thigh as she laughed. Yet, you knew you looked even more pathetic just watching your boyfriend letting it happen. After dinner, you all headed back to the hotel. You and Jungkook return to your room, and you sigh in relief once your back hits the bed. Jungkook follows suit, the two of you lying silently and staring at the ceiling.
"Hey," He says, effectively getting your attention.
"Hm?" You ask, looking over at him. He sighs, reaching his arm up to cup your cheek.
"I'm sorry we haven't been able to spend time alone today." He whispers. Your heart melts at his large, apologetic eyes. You hum, turning your body to face him better.
"It's okay, baby. I can't say I'm not sad. It's been so long since we've been alone together." You pout, his thumb reaching down to tuck it back into place.
"We're alone now," He smiles, and you nod. He leans in, drapes a leg over your body to tug you closer, and kisses you. You two get lost in each other's touch, but a knock comes from the door before it can get any further.
You pull apart, chests heaving, and Jungkook pats your thigh as he gets up to answer it. You don't even act surprised at who stands on the other side.
"Hey, Jungkook, can I talk to you for a second?" Arin asks.
"Uh, sure," Jungkook says, looking confused. He looks back at you, smiling apologetically, before following after her.
You wait a few minutes, but when they don't return, you can't ignore your racing heartbeat and decide to see what is happening. As you turn the corner, you face one of the worst sights you've ever seen. Arin kissing Jungkook. You wouldn't be surprised if a heart-shaped hole manifested under you because you were sure it fell out and sank to the first floor.
"Jungkook?" You whisper. The pair break apart, Arin gazing up at you with wide eyes, yet not as wide as your startled boyfriend's.
"No, Y/N, it's not what it looks like," Jungkook tries to explain. You hold a hand up to silence him. You didn't notice you were crying until tears started falling onto your cheeks.
"I can't believe you would do this to me," You whimper out, shaking your head and turning around, running back to the room. You barricade yourself inside, holding your head as you sob your heart out.
You packed your bags that night and left the trip early, ignoring everyone's phone calls.
Back home, you were heartbroken. You try to wrap your head around why? He told you, no, he promised you he would never cheat on you. That was the last thing on his mind, or so you thought. You beat yourself up, how could you be so stupid? He was practically cheating on you that whole trip. That kiss was just the nail in the coffin.
Unbeknownst to you, your girlfriends had let Arin have it. They called her all the names in the book, cementing whose side they were on. Jungkook wasn't free from their criticism either. They had read him to filth, which resulted in their boyfriends having to drag them away before they legitimately beheaded him. They decided to end their trip short, too.
A day after you left, the group decided to all come to your apartment at once. They could see some unresolved explanations to be said, and if Jungkook's incessant crying was any indicator, maybe you had gotten it all wrong. One part of it was to have everyone explain their side uninterrupted. The other part was that if there wasn't some sort of mediator, they were sure you would throw your microwave at Jungkook and Arin's heads.
It leads you all here. Silent, sitting in your living room. You stare at the wall, trying to avoid Jungkook's piercing gaze. You know he's fighting every bone in his body not to jump over the coffee table and hug you. He always hated when you cried. You almost feel bad, his red-rimmed eyes and distraught demeanor tugging at your heartstrings. You remind yourself that he cheated on you and doesn't deserve your pity.
After a while, Arin clears her throat, getting everyone's attention. You set your pointed gaze on her, waiting to hear the stupidity about to come out of her mouth.
"I'm so sorry, Y/N. I never meant to hurt you. I just couldn't help my feelings for Jungkook," Arin says, tears in her eyes. Oh? You were confused. Is she admitting that Jungkook didn't cheat on you? You look over at him, and he nods.
"She's right, Y/N. I would never cheat on you. Arin kissed me, and I would've pushed her away! I swear! But you walked in as soon as she kissed me. I didn't even have time to process what had just happened." He's pleading, inching closer to the edge of his seat, almost as if he would pounce on you at any second.
You sigh, sitting up. You look at Arin first. "Arin," you begin. "I've put up with your antics for as long as I can remember. I always knew you liked Jungkook, but I set my feelings aside because I know how important you two are to each other. But this? This was too far. You kissed my boyfriend, Arin. MY boyfriend. You had no right to do that."
She bows her head, muttering another small apology. You turn to Jungkook. "Jungkook. I communicated with you about my feelings regarding your friendship with her. You told me she wasn't a problem, that she wouldn't try anything. Look where that ended us up." He bites his lip, nodding his head in agreement.
You sigh again. "Arin, I forgive you. I know you and Jungkook have been friends for such a long time, and that maybe that manifested into love or whatever, but I need to make one thing clear. If I want my relationship to work out with Jungkook, I need you to stay away from us for the time being. Not for forever, but for a while." She hesitates before nodding, looking toward Jungkook, yet he doesn't even spare her a glance.
"I forgive you too," You say, looking at Jungkook. "But you need to agree with my proposition to make this work. If you can't do that, I really don't want to even bother giving you a second chance."
"Of course." He says almost instantly. You nod.
The rest of your friends pipe up, apologizing for any part they may have played in the situation and promising to support you all in any way they could.
After everyone had left, you and Jungkookwere finally alone. The two of you sit down on the couch, and you let out a tense breath.
"I'm sorry," Jungkook says, taking your hand. "I never wanted to hurt you."
"I know," you reply, tears still in your eyes. "I just...I can't believe that happened."
"I promise you, Y/N, I love you and only you," Jungkook says, looking into your eyes. "Arin's feelings for me don't change that."
You took a deep breath and leaned into him. You knew he was right. Your love for each other was strong enough to overcome any obstacle, even something as painful as this.
"I love you too, Jungkook," you assured, feeling a weight lift off your chest.
You sat there for a while, just holding each other and talking about what had happened. The two of you agreed that you needed to be more mindful of boundaries in your friendships and that you would work together to make sure nothing like this ever happened again.
As the night wore on, you decided to order food and spend the rest of the evening together. You knew it wouldn't be easy, but you were both determined to move past this and come out stronger on the other side.
Arin did eventually come back into your life many, many months later. Thankfully, you all had another conversation in which you reaffirmed your boundaries, and she graciously agreed to them. In the end, your love for each other only grew. You had weathered a brutal storm but came out on the other side more committed to each other than ever before.
#jungkook imagines#jungkook angst#jungkook fanfic#jungkook scenarios#bts scenarios#bts fanfic#bts jungkook fanfic#bts jungkook scenarios#jungkook fluff#bts jungkook drabbles#bts imagines#bts jeongguk scenarios#jungkook#jungkook imagine#bts imagine#bts angst#jungkook x reader#bts x reader#bts drabble#bts reactions#bts one shot#bts#bts jungkook#bangtan sonyeondan#bts scenerios#jungkook drabble#jungkook one shot#kpop#Kpop imagines#Kpop angst
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Enterprise
Rating: M | This is smut! No one under 18, minors, DNI!
Summary: Bob likes to keep his personal life and work life separate. But returning to San Diego has been difficult so what better time to introduce you to his new friends than Halloween. It is a night for surprises, after all. | Ft. Anon Request for: “Keep your voice down. There’s still a party going on.”
Warnings: A little anxiety, a little insecurity, some teasing from the squad, public oral (fem receiving), Bob’s adorable and the squad is supportive. Anything else, just ask and I’ll tag.
Pairing: Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x fem!Reader (wife!Reader)
Word Count: 7.7k Words (...yeah, I know)
Top Gun Taglist | Top Gun Masterlist
Despite popular belief - or unpopular as he was never very well-known - Robert Floyd wasn’t really that awkward. In fact, he wasn’t really that shy, either. He’d been called a litany of things throughout his life, in the Navy and otherwise, but very few of them were words he believed to be apt descriptors of who he really was as a person.
A high school guidance counselor once called him reserved, if a little timid, and those who knew him - well and truly knew him, saw beyond the glasses and hesitant smiles - would agree. He never loved the limelight, had never been one to seize the opportunity to settle into the center of attention, and always preferred to hang around the periphery. He always allowed his actions to speak for themselves and realized somewhere around high school that the role he played fit him well.
Somewhere along the way - around the time he enrolled in the Naval Academy and moved far away from the only life he’d ever really known - he gained a reputation for being quiet, shy, awkward, invisible. The reputation was one that never really bothered him and, over the years, he began to lean into it. He let his teammates, officers he met in passing, aviators who’d never even met him, believe what they wanted.
Any fight he threw at them would be met with laughter and rolled eyes, anyway, so why try?
What others thought about him never really bothered him - apart from that one girl in grade school, his first crush, whose observation that he was odd really did hurt his feelings. And, if he really thought about it, it was no secret as to how he garnered his reputation.
While those around him spoke freely about their personal lives - plans for the weekend, exciting family news, the things they left behind to join the Navy - Bob kept relatively quiet about his personal life. There was never any shame in where he came from or what he did on the weekends, there was no conscious decision to hide his life, he’d just never really been included in those conversations. His quiet demeanor often saw him forgotten, left just on the periphery, and when he was included, his answers were always only politely considered for a moment or made the punchlines to jokes.
When he was finally invited in, given real friends who truly wanted to hear his answers to those questions, quiet had become a reflex. The Dagger Squad learned a little, was given a handful of answers as to where he came from and why he joined the Navy, but Natasha became the only person who knew anything deeper than surface level.
Robert Floyd was an enigma to those around him and, for the most part, he never even realized others were curious. What he did on the weekends, why he was so keen to flee the Hard Deck after only half an hour, why he lived off-base when nearly everyone else lived in the barracks; those were things only Natasha knew and he hadn’t made much of an effort to change that.
The division of his life, professional and personal, served him well.
That division only really became a problem when it began to take its toll on the one person he hoped to never burden with his career.
As excited as he was to return to Top Gun, to return to San Diego, that return meant uprooting the life he’d spent three years building. There was always a possibility that he’d have to pack it all up and move along to the next base - something he’d come to accept, just as you had - but Lemoore had been home for a little too long.
Though Bob left only a handful of friends in Lemoore, you left the life you spent three years building - a life you’d already left one city to start. A job, a support system in the partners of other Navy officers, new friends, a favorite cafe and bookshop; all were three hours away now, just because you packed up the little house you both spent your weekends fixing up to follow him to San Diego.
Bob knew that allowing his lives to blend, just a little, was the only way to lift some of the weight he’d inadvertently placed on you. So, he started simply.
Natasha was the first - and only - member of the Dagger Squad he introduced you to formally, one-on-one. She was important to your husband, the person he trusted with his life and the person who trusted him with hers, and he knew just how much you’d like her.
There was no surprise that you took to her immediately, falling into an easy friendship that saw you and Natasha enjoying a bond Bob could only hope continued, but one friend outside of work was only the beginning. And when he caught wind of the Hard Deck’s annual Halloween party, Bob decided that your favorite holiday would be the perfect time to truly allow his worlds to collide.
The excitement he saw in the days leading up to the party was enough to quell any remaining anxiety he felt about introducing you. There was never any doubt that you would get along with the rest of the squad, never any shame in introducing you as the love of his life, but seeing the joy with which you prepared reminded him that these people were different - there would be no malice in the teasing they leveled him with, no real question as to how you met that wasn’t genuinely asked.
When the night itself finally arrived, Bob found himself wondering why he ever thought keeping you from the people who were starting to become something of a second family was a good idea.
Regardless of how he felt about introducing you, Bob knew that, if asked, there wasn’t a single soul who would’ve guessed he was seeing someone - aside from Natasha and Bradley, who he was beginning to suspect knew more than he let on. If they had, and if he’d disclosed your plan to attend the party in a couple’s costume, several assumptions would’ve been made.
Any number of guesses would’ve been made - and someone likely would’ve gotten it right - but if he’d disclosed your costumes were from Star Trek, you would’ve been dubbed Bob two-point-oh before ever stepping foot in the bar.
As he’d remained quiet, there was no hiding the surprise on every face - save for Natasha’s - when he stepped into the Hard Deck with you by his side. The reaction was warranted, despite his own costume’s simplicity, and he knew it. He knew that all eyes would’ve been on you, regardless of who you entered with, but his presence at your side only served to garner more attention for both of you.
Of all the patrons in the bar, Mickey seemed to be the only person who had even the slightest clue who either of you were supposed to be. Once the initial shock of seeing Bob with someone wore off, there was a look of dim recognition in his eyes. But recognition was never really the point of the costume and, honestly, no one seemed to be paying that much attention to the clothes themselves as you approached the bar in search of a drink.
Everyone in the vicinity was too focused on the fact that Robert Floyd was not alone and was, instead, accompanied by a woman they deemed well and truly out of his league - a fact he had no intention of arguing with.
It was unnerving and he felt a strange flurry of emotion - a little pride, a little ire, a lot of insecurity - as he struggled to keep from shrinking under the weight of nearly every eye in the room raking over the pair of you. They would all get bored soon, he knew, but it didn’t help that he could practically hear the whispered conversations wondering just what you were doing with him.
Bob’s flight suit, an old one he’d nearly tossed out that had been dyed navy and adorned with custom patches, was straight from the first iteration of the starship Enterprise. Combined with the slicked back hair, it could’ve been something plucked straight from his daily wardrobe. His inner Trip Tucker had yet to be channeled, though he knew it would take a drink or three before he felt compelled to lean into the accent he did his best to hide.
You, on the other hand, leaned fully into the roll of mirror-verse T’Pol the moment you donned your costume. It was bold, a navy crop top and low-waisted pants, and completely out of the realm of comfort but it was fun. And, though he still managed to flush each time you caught him, he’d lost himself eyeing the vast array of exposed skin more than he cared to admit.
Still, as much as he found himself enjoying the costume - and he’d made sure to let you know just how much before leaving home - he could feel himself beginning to spiral into the same self-doubt he tried so desperately to combat. But regardless of how he was beginning to feel, he did his best to swallow those feelings as Penny approached.
Bob’s reputation was not your fault, neither was the subsequent surprise at your appearance, and it didn’t seem that you even noticed the attention as you took in the decor of the bar.
“This place is really cute.” Bob smiled, not at all surprised by your bright-eyed cheer when he needed it most - because you had noticed the attention, as well as the discomfort it brought - and hummed as you waited for Penny to fish out a beer for the patron in front of you. “I get why you guys like it so much.”
“It’s one of the better Navy bars I’ve been to,” he agreed, not bothering to hide his fondness as he removed his hand from the small of your back to step a little closer. He was careful to leave just enough space between you - not so much as to invite any unwanted attention, but enough to feel the warmth of your skin if he turned just so - and tipped his head to smile at you. “But it’s better with you here.”
Bob’s hand found yours then, fingers intertwining with yours, and you sighed quietly at the warmth of him. It was easier to think, to feel grounded in the moment, with his hand in yours and you knew that he felt the same.
A smile, bright despite the warmth of so many gazes settling on your skin, lifted the corners of your mouth as you tilted your head to hide your face. Bob could see it, that same bashful grin you’d always gotten when he laid on the charm, and felt his mood improve as you shook your head fondly.
“Flattery will get you everywhere, Robbie.”
Though the novelty of your appearance was beginning to wane, Bob could still feel the weight of a handful of gazes pressing on his shoulders. You were well aware of them all, noticed them the moment you wandered in, but the only gaze that mattered to you was his.
Bob was careful not to leer - despite the ease with which he could’ve done so, and the permission you gave him to do so - though his gaze continued to fall to the exposed expanse of your chest. Despite the years you’d spent together, the countless times he’d seen you naked, his cheeks still flushed a little brighter pink each time and you resisted the urge to coo as Penny approached.
Though Bob imagined Natasha would make her way over the moment she saw you, Penny was the first to greet you both. Her smile was bright, friendly, and she managed to hide her surprise, even as she caught sight of the silver band adorning his ring finger.
“The usual, Bob, or are we switching it up for Halloween?” The question was teasing, a thinly veiled prod at the very obvious departure from his usual, but not unkind and he took it in stride as you squeezed his hand.
Usually, when left to his own devices - and dragged to the Hard Deck instead of being allowed to head straight home to you - Bob opted for soda. It was easier to make the drive home then, faster than having to call an Uber or rely on a friend, and gave him an easy out when he bid his goodbyes after less than an hour.
Bob indulged, though he was never fond of getting truly drunk, but only when you were by his side. Drinking with you was more fun - and usually ended with the pair of you tangled beneath the sheets - but Penny didn’t know that. Instead, she’d taken to stocking a few extra glass bottled sodas and offered good-natured encouragement for him to try something new every now and again. He rarely did, almost always opting for a coke, but tonight was a night for changes, it seemed.
“A beer, please, Penny.” Try as he might to hide the accent, a hint of that drawl you loved so much escaped - evidence of just how comfortable he was with you, able to be a version of himself few saw. Penny seemed to notice and pulled a beer from the ice with a grin before raising a brow at you. Before you could open your mouth, however, Bob squeezed your hand and smiled. “And a vodka soda, please.”
Another smile from Penny, one that painted a veery clear picture of her enjoyment at seeing another side of Bob, as she turned to begin your drink while you fixed him with a fond look. “I would’ve been fine with a beer,” you assured him, taking a half-step closer to allow another person easier access to the bar. “It’s busy.”
Bob shrugged, easily accommodating your sudden closeness with a half-smile, as he lifted the bottle from the bar. “But is a beer what you really wanted?”
Just as he had a tendency to diminish himself for others’ comfort, to go with the flow and avoid drawing too much attention, you had a habit of settling. In a crowded bar, a busy restaurant, a bustling cafe, you tried to avoid making a fuss, despite knowing what you really wanted, and he knew that. Something as simple as ordering a drink he knew you’d like rather than one he knew you wouldn’t care for was a small gesture, easily lost in the chaos of your shared lives, but one that managed to warm you from within.
A small ache, pleasant and bright and light and lifting the weight of so many eyes pressing into your skin, settled in your chest as you squeezed his hand three times. “I’m very fond of you. You know that, right?”
Bob laughed quietly as he nodded, that soft smile never leaving his lips as he returned the quick squeezes, but that amusement didn’t quite reach his eyes. It wasn’t immediately noticeable - he did a damn good job of hiding his feelings, for the most part - but you’d known him your entire life. There was a depth to those blue eyes, a brightness, that was missing and it gave you a moment’s pause as you tipped your head to study his face.
“You okay?”
Lifted eyebrows displayed his surprise at having been caught - there were moments of doubt where he still seemed caught off guard by your attention, your affection, your love despite having been in love for most of your lives - but he was quick to smile and nod.
“Mm, m’fine.” The reassurance was softly spoken, barely audible over the din of the crowd, and you didn’t exactly believe it. Even as his smile grew a touch brighter, as his eyes lightened a half-shade, even as he lifted his beer and took a sip, your brows furrowed.
Bob’s shoulders were tense, easily visible through the thin material of his flight suit, and you could see the way he chewed the inside of his cheek as he glanced around the crowded bar. His gaze never settled for long, never lingered in one spot for more than a few seconds, and you knew that it had at least a little to do with the attention you were both on the receiving end of.
When he nodded once more, hand slipping from yours to return to the small of your back as Penny placed your drink on the bar, you shot him your own smile - one you hoped looked as reassuring as you meant it. “Whenever you decide you’re ready to leave, you know I’m always down to go home and get comfortable.”
Though he wasn’t one for public displays, Bob tugged you a little closer to press you into his side as he nodded. “One of the many, many things I love about you. But I’m okay,” he assured you, sounding as if he were trying to convince himself more than you. But he didn’t give you time to dwell as he asked, “Ready to meet everyone?”
There was a time and place to dwell on the feelings you knew were beginning to bubble - it wasn’t that hard to tell. Where at least a little of the tension was coming from as a group of men to your left glanced at the pair of you and began to snicker - and the Hard Deck was not it. So, you simply nodded. “Lead the way.”
As you shuffled through the crowd, headed in the direction of the pool table in the corner, you caught sight of Natasha.
While you were skeptical at first, uncertain as to how well your husband would adjust to life back in Fightertown and being her WSO, you found yourself thrilled to have her in your life. She respected Bob more than anyone he’d ever flown with, and received his respect in turn, and took the time to get to know you both personally. After he introduced the pair of you, you’d started seeing her at least once a week - with and without Bob - and had come to love her almost more than your husband did.
The sight of her was a welcome one, a certainty in the midst of a storm, even as she blinked in surprise at your costume. And though you were half-expecting her to be the first to speak, to break the silence that fell over the group with your approach, it seemed as if no one was really sure what to say.
For a split second, everyone paused before the man you recognized as Hangman - easily identifiable with nothing more than Bob’s stories to help you pinpoint him - beat them all to it.
“Well, well, Baby on Board,” he drawled, cowboy hat tipped back on his head and brows raised as he eyed the pair of you. “Who is this?”
Bob had always been good at hiding his annoyance - or maybe no one ever really cared enough to notice it - but you could see the tic of his jaw as he resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Hangman got under his skin, despite Natasha urging him to ignore the Texan, and you knew that the teasing question would only add to the ire he already felt.
Still, he managed to swallow whatever quip lingered on the tip of his tongue with a sip of beer, even as his fingers pressed a little harder into the warmth of your skin. “This is my wife.” His announcement was followed by your name, spoken into the relative quiet of the group, and saw everyone blinking in surprise. Someone - Fanboy, if the Mandalorian costume was anything to go by - sputtered a sip of beer as another laughed incredulously.
Hangman was the first to recover, lips parting in surprise and grip loosening on his darts as his gaze darted between you both. He allowed himself a real look, gaze sweeping your exposed skin, before he laughed. “Sorry, I think Rooster’s singing has finally ruined my hearing,” he teased, earning an unimpressed glower from the mustached pilot dressed as a rooster. “Did you just say wife?”
The moment the word rippled through the small group, uttered just a little louder, it seemed as if every eye fell to Bob. The silver of his ring glittered in the dim light, bright and eye-catching now that it had been pointed out, and you swallowed your amusement with a sip of vodka.
Though neither of you particularly enjoyed being the center of attention, this was almost to be expected. It had happened more than once, would likely continue to happen, and you found a way to enjoy the surprise on every face as you hummed.
“We’ve been married almost three years now.” As you spoke, you lifted your left hand to his chest - not bothering to hide your grin as their attention fell to your own ring - and patted the Enterprise insignia sewn into the fabric.
While the men blinked, lips parted and brows raised high as they attempted to process the information they’d been dealt, Natasha nudged her way through a set of them.
“I would make a joke about stealing you from Bob if he’s not careful, but the two of you just look too damn good together.” A teasing grin accompanied her words even as she pulled you into an embrace, careful not to spill either of your drinks. “It’s kind of annoying how perfect you look.” It was light, playful, but you both still managed to flush under her scrutiny as she eyed your costumes.
“Us? Look at you. Giving a whole new meaning to sinful thoughts,” you teased, grinning when Bob laughed at your side and shook his head. “Everyone looks great,” you complimented, smiling genuinely when the others preened. “I was worried I wouldn’t be able to tell who’s who in the costumes.” As you glanced around the small group, eager to observe the people who had become Bob’s closest friends, you were met with nothing but a pleasant intrigue. “Robbie’s descriptions have made it pretty easy, though.”
“Aw, Robbie.” Hangman grinned as he reached out to pinch Bob’s cheek, laughing all the while. Even as the others rolled their eyes, clearly seeing where his teasing was going, Hangman continued, “You talk about us? That’s so sweet!”
“Don’t be a dick, Bagman.” Natasha’s huff was lightly scolding, though it lacked the venom you expected, even as she rolled her eyes. She implored Bob to ignore Hangman’s taunts, to not engage - even when he wanted to - but you were grateful she attempted to keep him in check.
Rooster - who you suspected knew about your existence before tonight, whether he was told by Natasha or had simply put the pieces together himself as he looked wholly unsurprised by your presence and displayed a sort of brotherly pride when he regarded Bob - scoffed a laugh.
“I wouldn’t hold my breath,” he warned, partially under his breath.
Hangman, who looked entirely unbothered by the exchange, waved them off with a dismissive hand as he leaned against the pool table and eyed you both. “Anyway,” he drawled, gesturing to the pair of you with the tip of a dart, “how’d you and Baby on Board meet? Library, bookstore?” When you simply raised a brow at him, unimpressed, he shrugged. “I was under the impression he only existed at work and in this bar."
Though he made an effort to conceal his annoyance, from the corner of your eye, you could see Bob roll his eyes. Hangman never truly got under his skin - not in the way he intended, anyway - and the group had even come to like him. There were no ill intentions, not really, but you could tell his line of questioning was not helping the ire Bob began to feel the moment you stepped into the bar.
The more you thought about it, the easier it was to realize that discomfort from the influx of attention was not the only thing bothering him. Though his friends were clearly happy for him, it was easy to see the same look reflected in their eyes that you’d seen in others. They wondered what you were doing with Bob and how they’d gone this long without knowing you existed.
And while he wasn’t the most confident man, Bob was secure enough in your love that he rarely allowed that question to bother him. Tonight, however, it seemed as if he’d fallen victim to the insecurity that sometimes haunted him.
With a sigh, careful to keep your gesture light rather than outwardly comforting - though that was exactly what you intended it to be, a grounding touch to quiet the noise inside his head - you shifted your hand to gently squeeze his bicep. The entire group was wanted an answer, and likely would’ve asked the question in a more polite way, so you directed the reply to them.
“We grew up together.” A soft smile lifted the corners of your mouth as you spared him a glance, easily remembering the doe-eyed boy with the crooked smile who lived in nearly every childhood memory. “He lived a few houses down from me and our grandmothers were friends. We did pretty much everything together for the longest time. Nothing really happened until he asked me to Homecoming our freshman year of high school, though.”
Everyone, including Hangman, visibly softened at the revelation. The knowledge that Bob married a childhood friend, his high school sweetheart, was wholly unsurprising but enough to pull a simultaneous, “Aw,” from them all.
“We were high school sweethearts,” he confirmed, smile now reaching his eyes as he tipped his head to meet your gaze. The look softened, if only slightly, and grew a touch melancholy as he laughed quietly. “I would’ve married her then but we decided to take a break and went our separate ways when I got into the Academy and she went down south for school.”
Surprise was evident at the softness of his voice, the ease and confidence with which he declared he would’ve married you a decade ago, but it prompted a fond smile as you shook your head. You would’ve married him then, too, and you could feel your cheeks heat with a pleasant warmth that made you feel just a touch bashful - as it always did when Bob looked at you like you were the only person he could see.
“Worst decision of my life.”
The declaration was teasing, light and exaggerated, but neither of you truly regretted it. Though you were confident Bob was it for you, just as you were it for him, the years you spent apart gave you time to grow. You learned, matured, and became adults without fear of hurting one another along the way. That would’ve been significantly harder with the added worry of a long distance relationship and the first few deployments Bob endured - even if you worried about him, anyway.
It still managed to prompt a laugh from everyone, including Bob, as you returned your attention to the group. “We both came home for the holidays a few years ago, the first time we’d been there at the same time since we stopped seeing each other, and well… You know what they say. If it’s meant to be, it will be.”
Natasha, who knew you were high school sweethearts but hadn’t heard much beyond that, groaned as she gestured at you with her beer. “Ugh,” she scoffed, exaggerated and unable to hide the smile that lifted her lips. “I really want to be annoyed at how that sounds like the plot to some romance movie but it’s too cute to really be upset.”
Hangman, who had - surprisingly - remained quiet for the duration of the story, nodded his agreement. “It’s so cute,” he began, pushing away from the pool table, “I think I’m gonna be sick.”
“I think it’s nice. We’re all happy for you, Bob” Rooster declared, smile soft as he met your eyes, “and very glad to meet you.”
“Definitely,” Fanboy confirmed, smile bright as he nodded - seemingly uncaring that his helmet began to fall into his eyes. “And you’re a Trekkie! We’re growing in numbers every day.”
The conversation began to dissolve then, breaking apart into a series of side conversations you were no longer the center of as Payback urged Fanboy not to begin a conversation about which series was best. There was no telling when the novelty of your appearance would begin to wane - especially as Hangman and Coyote continued sparing you and Bob cursory glances - but their attention was beginning to wander.
That brief lull gave you a moment to tip your head and meet your husband’s eyes. The look in them was an endearing blend of concern and amusement as his lips curved into a thoughtful frown. “Are you okay?”
Bob’s concern was genuine and you could tell that he was worried his new, boisterous friends might be too much, but it was for naught. Though this was the largest group he’d ever introduced you to, the largest group he’d been content to be part of, you were glad to see that they all clearly cared for him.
Despite the initial teasing - and surprise - it was evident that they were all happy to see that he was loved. Natasha once confided that she’d been worried Bob was going home to an empty house after a night out, that they all worried he was lonely, but knowing that he had you eased that concern.
“I’m good.” The reason you worked so well together came down to a handful of similarities but a world of differences. Though you disliked being the center of attention as much as he did, you were fine with the weight of their intrigue so long, just as long as it meant his world was a little less money when you weren’t around. You lifted a hand to gently squeeze his bicep once more as you spared the group a glance. “I like them,” you assured him. “I’m really glad things are working out here.”
In that moment, you knew that he wasn’t as thrilled as he could’ve been. With the noise of so many thoughts racing through his mind, his mood soured slightly by overthinking and a little insecurity, he’d gone a little quieter than normal. Still, you knew just how relieved he was that his return to San Diego could be good for both of you.
“I am, too.” He drew you in closer then, wrapped an arm around your waist to squeeze you gently, before allowing Natasha to reclaim your attention. “Go ahead. I’m not going anywhere,” he assured you, crooked smile on full display as she gestured to the small table with a few others.
Bob had never been one to really belong, to fall readily into a group and be at the heart of it rather than the periphery, but this time seemed different. He was still quiet, sometimes forgotten in the fray, but it eased your own anxiety to see them casually toss out questions or pull him into moments of conversation.
Watching Rooster and Bob converse easily, watching him toss out a few quips at Hangman, watching him laugh with Fanboy; each moment was small in comparison to the grand scheme of things, but each was a great moment. Seeing him find that camaraderie made the move worth it, the stress and the anxiety of building your life from scratch all over again, and you were glad to join him for the ride.
And as you watched him interact, laughing as Payback and Fanboy each attempted to sway him to their side of an argument, you couldn’t help but smile. Though there was still a tension in his shoulders, you could tell he’d calmed enough to start pulling out of his head and returning to the Robbie you knew and loved.
The novelty of your appearance was gone, no longer a thought to those who had no interest in Robert Floyd, and with the weight of so many gazes gone from his shoulders, it seemed as if he could breathe freely once more. He looked as relaxed as you’d ever seen him in the presence of so many people, as at ease as he could be, and you took advantage of the moment of calm.
A soft press to his shoulder distracted him momentarily, drew his full attention from the conversation he’d been in with Rooster, as you offered him a smile. “The buttons are still being weird,” you informed him, gesturing to the top he’d heard you complain about a handful of times already. “I’m going to see if I can fix them. Didn’t want you worrying I got swept out to sea,” you teased, grinning as the apples of his cheeks flushed pink when his eyes fell to your chest.
Without sparing a glance over your shoulder, you knew that Bob refused to let you out of his sight until you disappeared into the small corridor housing the bathrooms. Anywhere else and he would’ve offered to walk with you, to settle at a table near the doors until you were done, but he trusted the Hard Deck a little more than anywhere else he’d taken you - and trusted that you could handle any unwanted attention. He still kept a watchful eye on you, ready to race to your side should you need him, and the thought made you smile, even as you fiddled with the buttons of your top.
When you managed to pull yourself together as best as you could - the top was not one you cared that much about saving as there was no other occasion you could see yourself donning it - but before you could step back into the hallway, a warm set of hands fell to your biceps and gently nudged you back into the room.
The familiar scent of citrus and pine, warm and bright, hit your nose just as the only voice you wanted to hear calmed your now racing heart. “Just me,” Bob assured you, crooked grin softening when you lifted your eyes to meet his. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”
As you lifted a hand to your chest, fingers pressing against warm skin, you laughed quietly. “You did,” you teased, voice a touch breathless. The rapid thrum of your heart, a split second of shock and adrenaline coursing through your veins, earned a light laugh from him as you shook your head. “But it’s fine. It is Halloween. Everything alright?”
Bright eyes darkened slightly, a touch stormier than his usual blue, but his features were more relaxed than they had been only moments earlier. The smile on his lips was real, soft and small but genuine, as he hummed. “Fine,” he assured you, nodding as he reached behind his back to lock the door. “Just wanted a second alone.”
When things got a little chaotic, crowd too hectic to. Handle for long moments, he had a habit of stepping away for solace. More often than not, you were pulled along and you couldn’t help but smile as you wrapped your arms around his neck.
“You’ll never catch me complaining about that.”
Some small part of you assumed this would be like any other moment of quiet, a brief reprieve from the noise and the crowd just outside the door, but it seemed as if Bob had other plans. His fingers began to brush along the exposed skin of your hips and stomach, touch feather light but leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake as you searched his face.
There was a look of determination there, a resolve that you didn’t quite understand, but before you could question it, he dipped his head to press his mouth to yours.
The kiss was light, a soft embrace that had you sighing quietly and pressing yourself just a little closer, but you could feel the emotion behind it as his hands stroked your sides. While he wasn’t one for public displays - and while he was able to beautifully communicate his feelings with you - he had a habit of allowing his actions to speak for themselves.
It was rare that he got in this mood, a little anxious and a lot determined - to do what, you weren’t sure; prove himself, remind himself that you were his, quiet his anxiety with the taste of you on his tongue - but you allowed him to take what he needed as he slowly began to walk you backward.
Regardless of the tone set for the night, there was always a gentleness to Bob’s touch. Even when his fingers dug into your hips, short nails biting at the skin while he urged you back against the counter, he was careful to avoid hurting you.
There would be marks there tomorrow, a memory of his touch branded into your skin, but the way he caressed the tender spots always made any momentary discomfort worth it. And any future annoyance - minor, in comparison to everything else - remained far from the forefront of your mind as his hands began to wander.
Under any other circumstances, Bob’s hands would’ve found their way beneath the hem of your top. But given the time you’d had with buttons - and the knowledge you’d given him beforehand, that when the night was over, he could remove the top from you himself - he was careful to stick to teasing brushes of his fingers along your heated skin.
“Robbie.” The sigh of his name was muffled by his mouth, spoken into the relative quiet of the bathroom, and his answering hum drew laughter from you. “Not that I’m upset at all by this turn of events, but where is this coming from?”
Bob pulled away then, lips parted and glasses slightly askew, to smile at you. His hands remained on your skin, lightly caressing the expanse of skin just above the waistband of your pants, as he dipped his head. “I don’t know if I’ve already said this tonight, but you look amazing. I… it’s been hard to think about anything else,” he admitted, flushing slightly as he glanced at you from beneath his lashes. “Just really wanted to kiss you.”
It was almost impossible to count how many times he complimented you before leaving home - how many different ways he declared his affection, his pure adoration - but his confession brought a smile to your lips as you raked your fingers through his hair.
“You might’ve mentioned it a couple times, but it’s still nice to hear.” Bob hummed, voice catching in his throat, as you scratched lightly at the base of his neck. He leaned into your touch, eager to lose himself in you, as you grinned. “Kiss me again, please.”
One of the features of your relationship - something you treasured beyond words - was his comfort with the give and take. Despite his reserved nature, Bob was comfortable with you. You’d been there from the beginning, had the experience of being one another’s first and, hopefully, last. There was no room for judgement and he knew that.
Bob could take what he wanted - knew that you would give it freely - and pin you to the nearest flat surface in search of it. He could be domineering, take charge and leave you breathless and desperate, but he could also hand over the reins with no qualms.
Tonight, you imagined you were both on equal footing. Bob wanted to take, you wanted to give. He needed a light push, a nudge in the direction he so desperately wanted to go, and you were happy to give it to him.
The second kiss grew more intense, much faster. There was no secret what he wanted - you could feel the evidence of his desire pressed to your thigh, just as you could feel your own desire beginning to gather between your thighs - and you were happy to give it to him.
Instead of allowing him to continue brushing the waistband of your pants, you popped the button before taking his hand to slip it beneath the navy fabric. You could feel the corner of his lip quirk in a lopsided smile, glad that you wanted the same thing he did, as he complied and slipped his hand between your thighs.
Bob wasted no time nudging the fabric of your panties aside, fingers gathering slick as his thumb bumped your clit. His mouth remained on yours, tang of beer barely noticeable over the mint gum he’d popped the moment you disappeared into the bathroom, as you inhaled sharply at the touch.
“We have to be quick.” Your reminder was muffled but understandable, easy to follow given the circumstances, and Bob hummed his acknowledgment. Public displays were not his favorite, but this was not the first time you’d found yourselves locked in a bar bathroom.
Instead of replying, Bob was quick to remove his hand from between your thighs. He swallowed your huff of disappointment with a laugh as he began to tug the fabric of your pants and panties down and only broke the kiss to follow.
When he fell to his knees, blue eyes lifting to yours, you let out a noise half-way between a whine and a laugh. Bob lifted a finger to his mouth and shushed you, crooked grin growing brighter as he placed a hand below your knee to hitch your leg over his shoulder. “Keep your voice down,” he urged, though it was uttered amidst a quiet laughter. “There’s still a party going on.”
Even as he turned his head, pressing soft kisses to your inner thigh - tracing a path he’d committed to memory over the years - your fingers fell to his head as you spared the door a glance. “You sure about this, Robbie? Any of them hear, they’re never going to let you live it down."
“Hate to break it to you,” he hummed, hands smoothing over your skin as he inched closer to where you wanted him, “but I’m already not going to live this down. Everyone knows I have a hot wife, completely out of my league. They’re never letting this go.”
Before you could refute his claim, roll your eyes and chide him for allowing their line of thinking to taint his thoughts, he leaned in and dragged his tongue through your folds. He licked a broad strip, tongue flat and mouth eager, and you could only do so much to keep yourself quiet.
The sight of him alone was enough to have you keening, desperate and eager for him. Those bright blue eyes, blinking up at you from between your parted thighs; hair mussed, curls breaking free from the hold of gel with every drag of your fingers; glasses knocked askew, fogged with the heat of your body and his cheeks as he presses even closer.
Bob had never been one to half-ass your pleasure, always eager to give you exactly what you deserved, and the space made no difference. His fingers dug into your hip to keep you in place, to drag you closer to his mouth as he moaned into you. His tongue swiped, lapped at the aching bundle of nerves, as those eyes searched your face for any hint of discomfort. When he found none, he asked, “Good?”
“So good, Robbie.” Over the years, he’d gotten it down to an art. Bob knew you better than anyone, could read your body better than you at times, and you were reminded of just how easily he could send you soaring the moment he began to alternate between soft flicks of his tongue and broad strokes.
You lifted one hand to your mouth, eager to keep quiet, while the other fell to his hair. You tangled the curls between your fingers, no longer caring about the gel you were ruining, and tugged lightly with every flick of his tongue. Bob gave his all and you took all that you could, grinding your hips and chasing your pleasure.
It was almost embarrassing, just how quick he was able to work you over, but when he knew your body this well, it would’ve been hard for him to do anything more than have you seeing stars. He knew the signs of your impending orgasm, could tell the moment you began to whine and shift in his grasp, and he encouraged you to come with a moan as his eyes lifted to yours.
As you barreled over the edge, Bob helped you through, never stopping his kitten licks as he swallowed all you had to give. Soft hands caressed your skin, touch gentle as you came down, and those blue eyes never left your face as you attempted to catch your breath.
Silence lingered for a moment, your ragged breathing the only sound aside from the dim noise of the party outside the door, before you laughed and shook your head. “I think I’m fine calling it a night if you are.”
Bob grinned, expression bright and eager, as he helped you back into your pants. He took the help you offered for his hair, despite how impossible you both knew it would be to flatten the curls now that they’d been destroyed, before leaning in to press a soft kiss to your mouth.
“Lead the way.”
As you made your way through the crowd, back to the bar to pay your tab, all eyes fell to you once more. This time, however, Bob didn’t shrink beneath the weight of their gazes. Their looks were knowing, easily picking apart the pieces of you both that clearly displayed what you’d been doing. But instead of rushing out, he kept a hand on your hip and hid his smile.
Sometimes, even if a little embarrassment bloomed in the pit of his stomach, the attention was worth it. And even though he knew he’d never hear the end of it, Bob wasn’t quite so sure he minded. Because at the end of the night, he had friends he cared for and the love of his life. And, really, what more could he ask for?
_____________________________________________
Author’s Note: The first time writing for someone new is always a little nerve-racking. Also, the costume might not be realistic for everyone (I wouldn’t wear it) but that’s my dream costume and Bob strikes me as a Trekkie. I’m not sure if this is totally in character for him. He'd be fun to write angst for, though, I think.
Taglist: @lulu-noodles, @holachicos, @getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth, @withakindheartx, @ssprayberrythings, @verin93, @totalwitch2, @malindacath, @alexparkxr, @hangmandruigandmav, @alexxavicry, @calicokel, @jaymum, @dracosluvbot, @little-wiseone, @specialk6802, @mandylove1000, @xlynnx07, @julesclues, @archetypesoflife, @oliviah-25, @benhardysdrumstick, @caatheeriinee07, @prettymucheveryothernamewastaken, @yvespoems, @chloereidwayne, @flower-name, @ccristata, @feltonswifesworld87, @mxdi0, @angellwingggs, @s00buwu, @mjsvinyl, @woodlandmouth, @hngmnslver, @wifey-halstead, @pr3ttyr0s3xs, @winchester126, @peoniarose, @hangmanscoming, @maybankive, @cas1fer
#top gun smut#top gun one shot#bob floyd x reader#robert floyd imagine#top gun maverick smut#top gun maverick x reader#top gun x reader#robert floyd smut#robert bob floyd x reader#bob x reader#bob floyd imagine#v's fics
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Congrats on your milestone, em!!! 🥳💖
If you feel so inspired, I'd like to request a blurb using the following prompt:
“this isn’t what i had in mind when i yelled fuck you.” + Poe Dameron 👀
Thank youuuu 💕
hihi whitney :3 thanks for joining in! this one is a bit longer than a blurb but i can't help it!
cw: smut (18+), friends (with minimal benefits)-to-lovers, jealous!poe, angst, alcohol, fluff?, fingering, hickies, panty sniffing (IDK WHERE TF THIS STUFF I COMING FROM ??), kissing, anddd not proof read
wc: 2.3k (???)
a/n: honestly poe is kinda an asshole in some of this but imma connect it to his commitment issue bc he's afraid to lose the reader idk
--
poe has never given you a straight answer about the two of you, and for a while it didn't matter.
for a bulk of your friendship, there's been the ongoing war between the first order and the resistance, so there was never time to sit down and talk about it, or take it any further than what it was.
and what is was, was a pair of kissing friends.
it's confusing. the words "kissing" and "friends" don't usually go together. either it's a 'mistake' or a gateway to a different kind of relationship, but you've been stuck in this middle area for months.
the war is over now and you won, but you haven't moved an inch.
this confusion, this fuzzy line between friends and lovers, has been weighing on you.
poe gives you those eyes, that intense stare, the one that makes you feel like the only girl in the universe, but then he openly flirts with officers, fellow pilots, and mechanics that work on his ship, buying them a drink and sitting real close to them, right in front of you.
poe kisses you, tastes you, like you're the finest wine in coruscant, like he's trying to memorize your flavor because each kiss could be his last, but then he tells you he's not ready for a relationship, he's too busy, he doesn't want to ruin the friendship that you have.
now, you're done waiting for him. you've tried to be patient and understanding, to give him time to figure things out, but he's been drawing it out, painfully, and you refuse to just sit there and watch.
you decided to finally take up voren na'al's offer of a date. he's a cute guy and you've worked with him throughout the war. you figure you might as well give him a chance, if only to take your mind off of poe.
you slip on a simple dress, something that makes you feel 10x cuter than the usual resistance uniform that the base usually sees you in. you're not going anywhere fancy, just the local pub to grab a drink and hang out.
--
it's quite crowded when you get there, though everywhere's been pretty crowded since the war ended. now there's more time for leisure, to enjoy life, without worrying about another attack.
the bar is full of bustling bodies, loud conversations, and moving glasses of jet juice, tihaar, and vosh. you're barely able to squeeze into a small table with how many standing bodies surround you.
"you look really nice tonight!" voren basically has to yell for you to hear him.
"thanks, a bit of an upgrade from my usual--"
"what?!"
"i said, a bit of an--"
voren gets up and decides to just stand next to you while you sit on the barstool instead. "sorry, i didn't realize this place would be so packed tonight..." he's close, almost leaning into you as he speaks at a normal volume.
"no, no, it's fine! I'm happy to see that the whole resistance is enjoying their weekend."
"let me get you a drink, yeah?"
"alright, i'll take...nikta with some soda."
"gotcha." he leaves you and you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding.
you've finally decided that it's too lively in this bar for you. the overlapping voices and cheers overwhelm your brain as you desperately try to get comfortable as a party of one in a sea of thousands.
how can you feel so alone in a room full of people?
this is a bit harder than you thought it would be. for some reason it just feels wrong to be on this date, despite not having any exclusivity with poe in the first place.
"gods, i thought that guy would never leave!"
speak of the devil.
"poe."
he steps closer to you, smoothly walking through the crowd that's nearly trapping you at your table. his face is pink, flushed from alcohol and the heat of the bar, and his eyes are glazed with untethered delight.
he says your name, draws it out with the slur of his tongue. his eyes glance at your attire, a dress he's never seen before. actually, he's never seen you in a dress, ever. "so you have a little boyfriend now?"
where did he even come from?
usually you'd know if he were at the bar, he has a whole entourage of people that like to follow him around. in fact, you'd know if he were in any room because of the loud cheers that constantly accompany the resistance's favorite flyboy.
"this is our first date actually." you hope you sound casual, despite having to raise your voice to be heard over the noise. you try to bite your tongue before you could ask, but you can't. you need to know. maybe it'll make this easier for you. "...are you here with someone?"
"i was, but i ditched them." you heart lurches and warmth quickly pools in your stomach. it's pathetic how easily he can make you feel special, but the doesn't linger on that thought for long. "does your boyfriend know you kiss your friends?"
you sit back at his words, shocked that he's deciding to bring this up now. "ok, where is this coming from?"
"i just feel like i would want to know if my girlfriend was seeing other people." you frown, genuinely confused.
"well, i'm not."
"you...aren't?"
"poe, what--"
"you're telling me that this," he points between the two of you, "meant nothing?"
"why are you bringing this up?"
"because a second ago, i thought we had an understanding but then i see you in this short dress going on a date with some logistic's dweeb!"
you roll your eyes, "his name is voren and unlike you, he's not making me decipher any understandings. he asked me on a date and i agreed."
"and you still kiss me."
"i kissed you and then i got tired of waiting for you to kiss back."
"i just don't get how you move on so easily when what we hasn't even ended."
"oh, fuck you, poe. it never even started!"
"hey...is this a bad time..." voren is back with the drinks, staring at the two of you awkwardly as the glasses of iced alcohol begin to sweat in his hands.
you both speak at the same time:
"no, voren, you're fine."
"yeah, if you wouldn't mind, we're dealing with something right now."
he nods his head slowly, understanding what's happening. he sets the drinks down on the table. "look, i'll see you back at the base, just text me when you want to meet up again." he walks to the exit of the bar and you try to call for him, but it's no use with the wall of people between you.
"look what you did, you ruined my date!"
"wasn't much of a date from the looks of things."
"ugh, you asshole!" you hop off your seat, grab your stuff, and rush through the crowd. maybe you can catch up to him if you get out fast enough. swaying bodies threaten pull you back into the tide as you attempt to escape, but you push through, determined to get the fuck out of there.
the cool air is refreshing when you finally shove the door open, it's almost a bit chilly compared to the building you came out of. you scan the area, trying to get a glimpse voren walking home but you don't see a single person.
"come back, honey, you shouldn't be out here alone."
you don't even have to look back to know who it is.
"i'd rather be alone than with you."
"you don't mean that." a hand gently pulls at your shoulder to make you turn around and face him. a warm hand cups your jaw as he regards your upset expression, his thumb comfortingly gliding over your cheek. you can't help but lean into his familiar touch. "this is why i never wanted to change what we had. i was trying to be smart, for both our sakes."
"by pushing me away? by leading me on?" your voice comes out in a whisper, but it's so quiet in these empty streets that it didn't matter.
"by keeping it simple, safe."
"i can't do it anymore, poe. you can't just expect me to be content with what you give. i need more."
"i know, baby, i was just scared. you're the best thing that's ever happened to me and i didn't want to lose you."
"but the war is over."
"not for me. i'll always be a fighter and i'll always have my battles. sometimes i can't be there for you like i should be, i can't be the boyfriend you deserve, but that doesn't stop me from wanting it any less." he rests his forehead on yours, holding you close to him in the middle of the sidewalk. "i didn't want you to leave me so i decided to never give you the chance."
"and now?"
"now, i don't want to think about what could happen tomorrow or the day after that. i've wanted you since forever and i want you now." he leans in, his nose nudging yours, "do you?"
"you know i do." you giggle softly, a grin spreading on your face.
you tilt your face up and capture his lips, slowly moving against him, savoring this moment. he places a hand at the back of your neck and pulls you in closer, showing you all his love as his soft lips mold over yours.
---
the walk back to base was a blur of soft smiles and quiet words as you traveled hand-in-hand. poe offered you his jacket after seeing you shiver and you reveled in the feeling of the heavy leather over your shoulders. you're both so giddy like a couple of teens that have been crushing on each other for eons.
when you got to the entrance of the main building you both paused for a second and an unspoken question hung in the air. is this the end of the night?
"come over to mine."
you surprise yourself with your bold offer. it was blurted out before you could really think it through.
"is that really a good idea?"
isn't it?
you've been placed at an arm's length from the man you've wanted since you showed up at the base and you've gotten his affection, his touch, and his kiss, but never more. and you want more.
"i want you. i-i mean, i want you to come over..."
he smirks like the asshole he is.
"alright, lead the way."
---
heated kisses are planted down from your jaw and all along your neck. splotches of purple already litter the silky skin, but he's still hungry for more.
poe barely got into the room before you rushed over to him and practically attacked him with a kiss. luckily his pilot reflexes helped him catch you and pull you against his body with finesse.
he laid you out on your bed and crawled over you, wanting to taste every part of you that he been denying himself from. his hands smooth over your curves, groping your tits and your waist as he makes his way down.
fingers tug your dress over your thighs and reveal the suggestive underwear you wore for your date.
he raises an eyebrow, "this for me, or him?"
"for myself, actually...but i guess you can enjoy them too." he pinches your thigh teasingly and you yelp out a giggle.
"fucking brat. you know what," he pulls them off easily, "i will enjoy them." poe crumples up your delicate lace in one hand while holding you down with another. you attempt cross your legs as you watch him bring them up to his face and breathe in your scent, but they're forced open by a strong hand. "mm...my sweet little girlfriend is so needy for me, hm?" you can feel him against your leg, hard and prominent under his pants.
you squirm under him, nearly dripping slick all over your sheets at his words. his girlfriend.
poe brings his hand up to your face, slowly tracing your lips with his index finger. "open up, honey." he groans as you let him slip between your lips. you suckle at his finger while staring up at him, your tongue flicking the tip every so often. "that's right...good girl." he adds another finger and watches you with half-lidded eyes, imagining that it's his cock you're sucking, nearly choking around it.
he pulls them out and reached between your bodies. you whimper as the cool slickness is pressed against your pussy. he runs them through the seam of your cunt, prodding gently against your entrance.
his eyes watch your facial expressions shift when he pushes them in, drinking in every minute sound and move that you make. you let out a broken moan as he curls his fingers inside of you and starts moving, rubbing right against your g-spot.
he whispers encouraging words as you start to shake under him, already so close to the edge. "that's it, sweetheart," he speeds up and vulgar sounds of your dripping cunt fill the room, "cum all over my fingers."
you whine as you reach you climax, pussy fluttering around his still moving fingers. your back arches at the intense pleasure and you wrap your legs around his arm.
his movements stop and he pulls away. you hide your face under your arms as he starts to lick his fingers clean, suddenly embarrassed by his shameless actions.
"what?" he chuckles, "am i not allow to taste my girlfriend?"
"you know, this isn't what i had in mind when i yelled fuck you." you breath out, referring to your heated talk at the bar.
"i know baby, you want my cock don't you? we'll get there once you recover."
with a flushed face, you give him an appalled look, "poe!"
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𝐚 𝐟𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 | 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐞
⬷ 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞┊ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 ┊ 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 →
pairing: minho x felix (minlix)
genre: dancer!minho/artist!felix. brothers best friend troupe. college au. age gap (abt 4 years). minho pov. extremely dark themes throughout, including smut - MDNI, 18+ only.
word count: 4.4k
the playlist 🗡️
a/n: OKAY, SO- 💀 I HAVE AN EXPLANATION FOR THE DELAYED UPDATE!!!! 💀😔 My life has been so incredibly fucking busy lately... with working full time and doing summer uni courses full time and planning for lolla and like, the 5 other concerts im going to in the later half of this year... it's been a lot, fam. 😭 I've been under sm stress at work and from school that I've been getting really bad chest pains, but I'm trying to manage things so it's slowly getting better. But the burn out is real, people. That shit fucks you over sooo bad omg 😭 I just have no motivation to write anything at the end of the day or on the weekends because I'm so fucking tired of using my brain all week. Going to Lolla will be my first REAL vacation from work/uni in over 2 and a half years. That's acc insane to me lmao. ANYWAYS!!!! 🗣️💥 I've already written like, 2 more chapters for this fic when I was in a mania-induced rage a few weeks ago lol, so I just need to find the time/motivation to edit those within the next few weeks. And I already have big plans for the rest of the chapters in this so... I'm excited. Now I just gotta find the willpower to ACC write my ideas 😜
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ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ sɪᴛᴇs (ᴛʜɪs ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴs). do not copy, spin-off, or write inspired work based off of this fanfic without full permission to do so. ©ʙʟᴏssᴏᴍᴡʀɪᴛᴇsᴛʜɪɴɢs ⤐ ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ
̶﹒⊹﹒sɪɴᴄᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀʟʀᴇᴀᴅʏ ᴀᴄǫᴜᴀɪɴᴛᴇᴅ, ʏᴏᴜ sᴋɪᴘ ᴛʜᴇ ғᴏʀеᴘʟᴀʏ !،، 🌌 𖥻 𓂃 ʜᴇ ɢʀɪᴘs ʏᴏᴜ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴇᴄᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜ ᴘʀеᴘᴀʀᴇ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ sᴄʀᴇᴡᴇᴅ╰╮ 🌑
To his utter surprise, Minho decided to attend Felix’s dorm party that weekend. The final decision shocked the rest of his friends too, who had grown accustomed to his home-body spirit. Because usually, every time they asked — more like begged — him to go to parties with the three of them, he always backed out of everything. His favorite excuses were being too exhausted from dance practice or not feeling good from studying so much.
“I actually cannot believe you’re going to this shit,” Chris said with a laugh that night. He was sprawled across Minho’s bed, one earbud in his ear as his head bobbed up and down to a beat he was mixing on his laptop. Meanwhile, Minho was scurrying across his room, slipping on a pair of socks and making sure he looked somewhat put together. But he didn’t want to seem too desperate to fit in either, since he knew that most of the people at the party would be young freshmen and sophomores.
He had decided — with a little bit of Chris’ help — on a pair of black sweats, and an oversized graphic tee from one of his favorite Korean bands. It was nothing out of the ordinary for him to wear, but just ‘normal’ enough for him to fit in with the crowd that night.
“Honestly, I’m kinda shocked that you’re not going too,” Minho said as he hurried to slip on his Converse.
With that, Chris looked up from his flashing computer screen with a deep frown plastered across his face. “Do you really think I want to go to a party and watch as my little brother sticks his tongue down at least ten people's throats?”
Minho stopped fumbling with his shoelaces and looked up at Chris with a raised eyebrow. “He’s not actually gonna do that tonight, Chris.”
“You obviously don’t know my brother these days… the one that’s mature— at least in his eyes, anyway,” Chris started, tapping away at his computer keyboard again and cursing under his breath for a split second. “That little boy that you grew up with is completely gone, Min.”
For a few beats, there was utter silence in Minho’s bedroom after Chris’ statement. Then, Minho fit his wallet into his pants pocket and unhooked his phone from his charging port.
“Is that why you… don’t really spend a lot of time with him ever since he got to campus?”
Chris threw a long roll of his eyes towards Minho, “That, and the fact that I’m a little too old and tired to be fucking around with a bunch of young kids these days.”
“Felix isn’t a young kid, Chris. He’s a grown adult.”
Sighing heavily, Chris hoisted himself up and off of Minho’s bed, patting his shoulder in a rough way as he passed Minho on the way out of the bedroom. “We’ll see if you change your opinion on that after tonight.”
And the entire time Minho made the short trek over to the freshman’s side of campus, he couldn’t get Chris’ words out of his head. They were stuck in the depths of his brain, playing over and over again. Because there was no way that Felix would be so badly changed from the last time he had spent a night with him during their childhood.
Sure, Minho had noticed a slight change when they had met in the campus gardens the day before, but it wasn’t… that bad. Not like anything Chris was describing.
Even still, Minho could feel his entire body tense up as he got closer to the freshman dormitory. He could hear his heartbeat in the corners of his ears as he knocked on Felix’s door. He could sense his palms growing cold and clammy as the loud base of music thrummed underneath his feet.
Almost as quickly as he had knocked, someone opened the door. He had never seen the guy before, but he had purple-dyed hair and a dazzling white smile. Reaching out to Minho’s hand, the beautiful stranger yanked him in excitedly.
“Holy shit- you must be the famous Minho! I’ve heard so much about you!” The guy shouted over the music, closing the door behind Minho and leading the two of them into the nearby kitchen. “I’m Jisung, by the way.”
Without even having time to process the chaos that was the person in front of him, Minho’s hand was grabbed by Jisung and shaken thoroughly. “Uhm- nice to meet you, Jisung…” His voice trailed off as his mind carded through the slightly slurred words that had just fallen from the purple-haired man’s lips. “What do you mean by hearing so mu—”
“Hey, Jisung! Stop being such a fucking weirdo and let the man breathe!” Someone off to their right shouted in an exasperated tone.
Minho turned and noticed a dark-haired figure bent over in the shadows of the kitchen. They raised their head from the counter, rubbing their nose and sneezing violently. Slowly, Minho’s eyes registered the small bit of white substance that was left behind and laid out on the kitchen counter in a neat line. The dude was fucking snorting cocaine. Just then, Minho’s focus turned to the rest of the kitchen’s counters, which were lined with a plethora of drinks, drugs, and other shit he didn’t even have names for. A random couple was making out in the background, the girl’s ass pressing down atop the counter as the man between her legs bit violet marks into the side of her neck.
Turning his eyes away from the couple, he watched as the cocaine-snorter sidled up to their sides. Slinging a lazy arm around Jisung’s neck, he pulled him in for a tight hug. “You must be Minho, huh?” He asked in a long drawl, the kind you only got with copious amounts of drugs and liquor flowing through your system.
“Y-Yeah… Felix invited me to this last minute, but I’m starting to think maybe coming was a bad idea…” Minho said in a quiet voice that was barely decipherable over the ear-piercing rap blasting throughout the entire dorm. Feeling suddenly uncomfortable under the two strangers' gazes, he fit his hands in his pockets, eyes darting around the kitchen for the closest exit.
“You’re a lot cuter in person than what I always imagined,” The guy holding onto Jisung said, stumbling over a bit and making Jisung laugh heartily. The guy had soft cheekbones but razor-sharp eyes. The kind that Minho felt were piercing into him and studying his very being with each second that passed. His jet-black hair was messy atop his head and slightly curled at the ends. “I’m Seungmin, by the way. But most of these fucks around here call me Doggy.”
Placing a hand on Seungmin’s chest lovingly, Jisung flashed Minho a sly kind of smile. “He can get you anything you want— just say the word, pay up, and he’ll have it in your hands by the end of the week…” Jisung’s words drifted off into the chaos around them as he studied Minho.
Minho felt like both of the young men in front of him were sidling him up — wondering, and guessing, why someone as plain and boring as him was connected to Lee Felix in some way. Minho could feel his palms growing sweatier by the second as he gripped the suffocating fabric of his pant pockets.
“So— what’s your weakness?” Seungmin slurred on, eyes growing dark as his gaze traced Minho’s form up and down in the kitchen’s dim lighting. “Fet? Coke? Meth—”
Already starting to feel sick to his stomach by the topic of conversation, Minho held his hands up in a silent plea for him to stop. “Uhm— not really into that kinda shit.”
“What a shame… you’d be a pretty addict, for sure.” Jisung said in a flirtatious tone, biting the corner of his lip as he studied Minho.
Slowly, Minho could feel himself caving inward. His shoulders dropping, and heartbeat turning into a low thrum, all he wanted to do was get out of the situation he was stuck in. “How do you guys know Felix? Are you both freshman too?”
Jisung burst out laughing at that, reaching towards the nearby kitchen counter and pouring himself a solo cup full of vodka. “You're kidding me, right? We’ve been Felix’s homies since our high school days.”
“And yes, if you must know— we’re freshman’s,” Seungmin said, rolling his eyes as he grabbed the solo cup from Jisung’s hand and took a long swig of it. Much to Jisung’s displeasure. “Why? What’s it to ya?”
Minho shrugged nonchalantly, trying to act like the entire atmosphere around them wasn’t making him extremely uncomfortable. “I was just making friendly conversation,” and before he could let either of the guys in front of him say anything more, he decided to remove himself from the situation entirely. “Actually, I think I’m gonna go try and find Felix…”
As he was walking away from the kitchen, he could hear the boys snickering behind him, with Jisung shouting in slurred words, “Good luck finding him if he’s getting his dick sucked in the bathroom!” Minho could hear the two guys laughing manically in the kitchen as he made his way into the rest of the dorm.
Immediately upon entering the living room, he remembered just how small the freshman’s living spaces were. The entire place was jammed packed full of bodies writhing and shaking. A space in the middle of the room had been cleared for a makeshift dance floor, so couples were grinding up on each other and making out to the sultry r&b coursing throughout the entire place. Bodies filled up every seat and sofa in the vicinity.
The entire room was dark with the curtains closed. That added to the smoky atmosphere, as people smoked cigs, vapes, and joints everywhere that Minho looked. It was hard to see through the haziness of everything, but eventually, he spotted Felix.
Felix was…
Sitting on one of the couches,
Busy making out with another guy.
And just then, Minho couldn’t even understand the exact feelings he had upon such a discovery. It was a mix of surprise, queasiness, but also… something else too, which he dared not name.
He shoved everything down into a firm ball in the pit of his stomach, shuffling towards a nearby table and popping himself a cold bottle of soju. Taking a long swig from the chilled rim, he gradually shuffled his way through the dance floor over to where Felix was.
The younger man seemed to exude a certain kind of presence… captivating at least half of the room with his aura. Felix's energy was dark and smoky and… something so mysterious and foreign to Minho, he had no idea how to navigate all of it.
“Felix— hi,” Minho yelled over the loud music, waving towards Felix to catch his attention. There were a few other people squished onto the sofa where he was sitting, but all of them were focused on the tv screen which was flashing with an intense game of Super Smash Bros.
As soon as Felix’s focus was caught, he was pulling away from the other man’s lips. In the dimness of the room, Minho distinctly caught onto the way that messy strings of saliva parted from their lips, and how Felix’s mouth was puffy and swollen from kissing all night.
Eyes brightening and pink freckled cheeks shading just a tiny bit, Felix shot up from his spot on the couch, fumbling his way over to Minho’s side. For a split second, Minho was able to gaze at Felix’s form — at the white skort he was wearing which was so short, half of his ass was exposed, and the baby-blue crop top that rose just above his belly button. A belly ring glinted in the sultry lighting of the room, along with all of the silver earrings, rings, and necklaces that adorned Felix’s milky-white skin.
“M-Min, oh my god, you made it!” Felix exclaimed happily, tugging on Minho’s wrist gently and leading him over to his spot on the couch. The man that he had been making out with only seconds before shuffled to the side, allowing room for Minho to sit down. Then, he grabbed Felix’s hips and sat him down on his lap. Felix let out a tiny giggle, snuggling his ass backward and earning a grunt from the guy underneath him. “I’m so happy to see you!”
Minho flashed him the best smile he could muster at that moment. What with being incredibly overstimulated by everything, and the shock of meeting some of Felix’s... choice friends, and seeing his best friend’s little brother making out viscerally at a party…
The night definitely wasn’t turning out as he had hoped, that was for sure.
“I met some of your friends, they’re uhm— interesting, to say the least,” Minho laughed awkwardly, carding a few shaking fingers through his hair. “I wasn’t expecting you to be… part of such a crowd, Lix.”
Felix shrugged the tiniest of bits, his eyes flicking away from Minho’s and focusing on the video game some of the others were playing. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Minho. Things have changed since the last time we hung out.” There was a weight to his words, they felt heavy on Minho's shoulders and weighed on his heart. Even still, he tried to push away those feelings and just live in the moment, without any worries or inhibitions
“That’s for sure…”
But Minho wasn’t really paying attention to anything else that Felix was saying, if he was saying anything at all. Because he was too busy watching the guy underneath Felix draw circles against his bare skin. Fingers skirting across his skin, the guy softly massaged the soft skin of his thighs, forcing gooseflesh to erupt to the surface.
“This is Renjun, by the way,” Felix said, cutting through the silence between them and breaking the trance Minho had fallen into. “He’s a… friend, of sorts.”
Renjun turned his face away from Felix’s body, taking a long drawl of a joint that Minho hadn’t even noticed was positioned between his fingers. “Yeah, ‘cause friends definitely stick their dicks in each other’s assess… that's just what friends do, right?” Renjun let out a loud cackle, the kind that would probably make Minho burst out into laughter too, if they were in a different situation.
Felix gave the man underneath him a deep frown before his eyes focused back on Minho. “I mean… if you’re truly friends— anything could happen, right?” Just then, he started moving again, hips circling just a little bit atop Renjun’s lap. Almost instantly, the dark-haired man was groaning out loud and clutching onto Felix's hips for dear life. And the entire time, Felix kept his gaze locked with Minho's, practically staring right into his soul.
Minho was keenly aware of the dry saliva he swallowed down, trying to ignore the way his heart lept just a little bit in his chest at the sight of Felix grinding down against Renjun’s lap. Trying to ignore the way his pants grew just a tiny bit tighter at the sight of Felix flashing Renjun a playful, dim smirk.
“Renjun, stop fucking moaning, you’re ruining the vibes right now!” A silver-haired guy who was sitting in front of Minho said. He was part of the group that was focused on the tv, playing Smash like they were in a professional tournament or some shit. “I’m Jeongin, by the way, Lee Felix’s bestie since the sixth grade.” The silvered fox said, momentarily looking away from his game and flashing Minho a smile.
At that, Renjun let out a low chortle. “Too bad you weren’t close enough to fuck him, eh?”
Minho’s attention darted from Jeongin’s face back to Renjun, examining the way his raven locks were somewhat disheveled— like they had been gripped pretty hard recently.
Gripped hard by… Felix.
Felix threw his hands up into the air, seeming to admit defeat. “What is it with everyone around here wanting to fuck me?!” He exclaimed- although he didn’t seem that upset by the prospect in the first place. Instead, he grabbed ahold of the joint Renjun was smoking and took a long drag of it. Blowing the smoke up in the air around him, Felix’s slightly hooded gaze zeroed back onto Minho. “It’s not like I’m that attractive— I only get the young people to fuck me.”
Minho shifted in his spot on the couch, feeling that floaty, twisted snake thrum through his veins. He stared down at his strawberry-flavored soju bottle, pretending to be fascinated with the label. When in actuality, he was doing everything in his power to avoid Felix’s stare.
“I mean, who wouldn’t wanna fuck you? You’re cute— you’re hot, you’re fun, and you’re a damn good bottom, too.” Renjun said in a deep voice, and through the reflection of the tv screen in front of them, Minho could make out the way he leaned down and pressed a feverish kiss to Felix’s exposed neck.
Like a train wreck that you can’t stop watching, Minho couldn’t help but turn his head to watch Felix atop Renjun again. He was still dancing across his lap, doing so with a little more fervor this time. The compliments probably fueled his fire, Minho assumed. Felix was gradually beginning to wreak of a mix of weed, liquor, and the sweet scent of floral perfume. Yet in that moment, it was all too intoxicating for Minho.
Turning his head slowly, Felix ruffled Renjun’s locks playfully. “Awe thanks— I feel so flattered that you find me pretty, Renjunnie~” He cooed in a gentle voice, fingers skirting across Renjun’s round cheek with a caress.
“Well, I’m sure Minho sure doesn’t wanna fuck you.” Jeongin deadpanned, his voice cascading down around their small group. He was still focused on the game but bent his head backward a bit. Fox-like eyes studied Minho’s face in the smokiness of the room just then. And Jeongin’s lips cracked into a wide, Cheshire grin just as he turned back to the tv. “Actually, never mind— maybe he does.”
The entire time, Minho had been entirely too quiet. Letting everything play out, observing and judging silently. He was probably the oldest one in that room, and he could feel the significance of his grade year and maturity weighing down on his shoulders like a 200lb barbell.
He took a final swig of his soju, before tossing it into a nearby trashcan. “Honestly, I’m old enough to be his brother, so no— definitely not,” Minho said in a low tone, his throat constricting a tiny bit.
But it was just the alcohol, it was just the liquor that was getting to him.
And the weed in the air and the cigarettes and every other thing floating around him. It was the loud bass thrumming through the bottoms of his feet and it was the blaring disco ball that was flashing rainbow-colored shapes on the dance floor.
Yes, it was all of that…
And none of what Felix was doing beside him, or how Felix was looking at him or-
“I mean, yeah— a dancer and fashion designer together?? Fucking hell, it’d never work. Aren’t dancers always too tired to even get it up in the first place?” Renjun slurred his words just a tiny bit, as the weed no doubt flooded into his system.
“But I bet those hips don’t lie!” Jeongin shrieked with laughter, slapping his leg in happiness at their stupid jokes.
So suddenly, Minho realized why he was invited to the party in the first place.
He wasn’t included to have a good time, or because he was missed, or because people wanted to meet him.
No, he was invited to be the laughing stock of everyone there…
Hey guys- look! A stupid ass senior shimmying his way into a freshman party, look at how stupid he looks—
trying to hit on the hottest guy on campus.
And the thinks that he has a fighting fucking chance when everyone else wants — and gets to have Felix —
But no , definitely not him, not ever. The brother’s best friend?? Felix would never stoop so low.
The energy shifted between Minho and the rest of them sitting there on the couch, freezing in place as soon as he shot up from his spot on the couch. Yanking out his phone from his pants pocket, the screen flashed with the time — one in the morning. He had been acting stupid, been the night’s entertainment, for more than three hours. And just as he realized the time, he noticed the eyes on him — how half of the room was watching him, with people hiding their smiles and laughs behind palms and solo cups and joints.
“I have class tomorrow, I should head out.” Is the only explanation he gave, not even affording Felix or the others another glance as he pulled away from the sofa and forced his way through the shaking bodies on the dance floor. And when Jisung and Seungmin called out to him from the kitchen as he passed them by, he gave them no attention.
The eyes on his back, which he could feel the entire way to the door, just about killed him. He felt like he was about to suffocate, his heart racing against his ribcage, pushing and pushing, just like he had been pushed all night by everyone.
And Felix was no better.
He was no better than everyone else because he was the one who had invited him in the first place.
So Minho was shocked, then, when he felt a small hand grab ahold of his wrist just as he was about to step into the elevator. To take him away from such a hellhole and such a depressing prison of losers.
“Minho— wait, I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean—”
Minho didn’t even turn around, couldn’t, in that moment. Instead, he let Felix hold onto him, let the feeling of his nimble fingers cascade through his system. Let Felix gradually move his hand until he was threading his fingers through Minho’s.
Just like they used to sometimes when they hung out together in their childhood.
When they were bored, and no one was around, and Chris was nowhere to be found and they could—
“It’s all my fault, I’m sorry— I was so fucking stupid for thinking—”
“Why do you hang out with those people?”
Was all that Minho could manage to say, focusing his attention on the way Felix’s hand radiated warmth, how it lit up all the synapses of Minho’s body and kindled the dying fire inside of the deepest parts of him.
“They’re my friends, they’re not just ‘people’ to me.”
At that, Minho let out a dry laugh. The kind that had no humor in it and was completely sardonic. “What a great bunch of friends you got there, Lix…”
Minho regretted the moment he said the word, the moment he used the old nickname in such a cold, seething kind of way. Because as soon as it fell from his lips, the warm fingers wrapped around his were pulling away.
“I was nice enough to invite you, I was nice enough to let you into my life again— and you’ve decided to shit on it.” Minho still had his back turned on him, but he could imagine the look on Felix’s face then. If his low, venomous tone was anything to go off of.
Slowly, Minho turned around. He found his body moving on their own accord. And just like that, he was facing Felix again. Minho was studying his face and the way it was drained of all color. How there was nothing in his eyes then, but only heartbreak and barely-masked tears.
“I never asked to be let in, Felix,” Minho said, but the words came out as a whisper. Like if he spoke loud enough, someone from inside the party would hear them and come running out to take photos. Look, the campus's local desperate senior trying to coax the popular freshman into- “You know I didn’t. Not like this, never.”
Without even trying to, Minho could feel his body moving again. His hand reached up and caressed Felix’s cheek. Thumb smoothing across freckles and softness, brushing just underneath his long eyelashes. And for a moment, just like it was once again a dream, Felix leaned into it. Let himself go for but a mere breath, sighing into it.
He pressed his face a little closer to Minho’s hand, eyes fluttering shut only slightly. Cheeks heating up underneath Minho’s touch, Felix's gaze shot open again as soon as the thumb underneath his eye migrated to his mouth. Migrated to caressing his bottom lip.
“Don’t.”
Minho watched the single word escape past Felix’s lips, and instantly, the tension in the air between them broke and shattered. Like someone had taken a knife to his heart once more, tearing him apart by flesh and bone, his hand was dropping from Felix’s skin.
“Go back to the party so you can get fucked by Renjun.”
The statement was a double-edged sword, both of them knew.
The words registered in Felix’s mind and Minho watched as the disdain colored his energy again. Painting him in violent shades of crimson and lilac, Felix said nothing as Minho backed away and into the elevator.
Just before he was able to press the button inside to go down, Felix reached out and grabbed ahold of the elevator’s door. “Don’t you ever fucking come back around these parts, or I’ll-” He spit out in a wicked kind of way, the emotions swirling in his pupils.
“You’ll… what? Beat me up? You and I both know you’re not capable of that, Lixie…” Minho said, his tone winding around the crackling air between them. He flashed Felix one final smirk, before pushing the button to go down to the first floor.
The last thing he saw before the elevator doors closed was Felix’s face, the way his pretty red lips were pressed into a firm, displeased line. The way his eyes were hooded with a mix of rage and exasperation.
The last thing that Minho saw on Felix’s face that night was utter betrayal and contempt…
To be honest, it was just like the old days again… when Minho had told Felix he was leaving for university and they'd never be able to talk again...
He had wished to travel back to their childhoods so much,
And like a blessing from the God’s, he had been afforded such a thing.
What a sweet memory to travel back to… Such sweet revenge to be gifted.
─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ───
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Real Friends / Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Reader / Part Seven
happy valentines day my loves - this seemed to be the perfect chapter to mark the occasion ;) i hope you all had the most lovely day, here is some pure sap and a much needed break in tension between our two favorite friends. I have always wanted to reference a very specific grey’s anatomy scene in my writing and I thought this was the perfect pairing to break it out for - you can watch that here and that is all I’ll say in order to not spoil what’s to come - it is up to you if you watch it before or after you read it ;)
real friends / jake ‘hangman’ seresin x reader / part seven
one - two - three - four - five - six
word count: 4.5k
warnings: sap. lots of sap.
“Cobra,” Penny started but was cut off by a round of rowdy frat boys to which she gave you an annoyed look. “Cobra, you know I would never ask…” she said, and you just nodded before she even had the chance. She’d lost one of her weekend bartenders and she was definitely feeling it right now as the Hard Deck thrummed with energy and you had no problem slipping behind the bar and taking the spare apron from Penny.
“And you don’t have to, who knows, could be fun to get back into the swing of things,” you smiled as you took an order and got to work. You’d never liked living on base and avoided it at all costs, which resulted in you picking up some bartending shifts in your early twenties to help cover the costs of living on your own on just the Navy’s salary and in all honesty you’d loved it. The energy was usually always good, tips were fantastic, especially on the nights when you dressed to make the old-timers wallets hurt, and it was a great way to distract yourself from the stress of your day job. It was like riding a bike for you, easy to slip back into your old routine of managing patrons and keeping up with the conversation as well as making sure their drinks were well taken care of and you smiled brightly at Rooster as he approached.
“Have I stepped into an alternate universe?” he asked as you set a beer in front of him.
“Pen was swamped and I happen to know my way around a bar,” you said, mixing up an old fashioned for the guy waiting beside him… based on his young appearance and choice of drink you’d inspected his ID three times to make sure it wasn’t fake.
“Full of surprises aren’t you?” he teased and you just winked in response, flitting around to clear empty glasses.
“Get away from my bar, Roo, you’re in the way,” you said as you made your way from table to table, pushing him in the direction of the pool table and watching as he joined your group of friends. You helped Penny through the rush, and even got to ring the bell once which was secretly something you’d always wanted to do, and you wiped your hands in satisfaction as you looked over the bar, now only occupied by regulars who weren’t quite as demanding.
“Cobra, you’re a literal lifesaver,” Penny said, giving your shoulders a squeeze from behind as she slid a rather fat stack of tips your way and you just shook your head.
“Pen, I didn’t say yes for some extra cash, I was happy to help.”
“Come on, most of these are from all the boys on base that are utterly obsessed with you anyways, just take them as a token of my gratitude otherwise I’m never making your margaritas spicy again,” she warned and you placed a hand on your chest in faux shock.
“You would never.”
“Try me,” she smiled, pushing them closer to you and you gave her a soft smile before tucking them away in the pocket of your shorts as she waved you off to join your friends with a fresh drink in hand.
“Have to say, Cobra, you are a much better bartender than I would have thought,” Rooster said when you approached the pool table.
“I take offense in that, I’ll have you know I bartended for years.” you retorted, “but nevermind that, I uh… I actually have some news, guys.” you said hesitantly, waiting until you had everyone’s attention, trying not to linger on the fact that you’d had Hangman’s all night.
“What, is this where you tell us you're ditching us to spend your days here instead?” Rooster joked and you just shoved his shoulder.
“No, it’s a little bigger than that… I got a call from Admiral Simpson today, I’m being promoted to Lieutenant Commander,” you said and the entire group broke out in cheers.
“Holy shit, Cobra, this is amazing!” Phoenix cooed as she pulled you in for a tight hug, “I am so proud of you,” she whispered in your ear.
“Alright, alright, break it up, let me get in there,” Rooster said, pulling you from her arms and into his own. You were essentially passed around the entire group, being hugged so tight you almost thought your ribs could be bruised until you made it to Hangman who really wasn’t sure what to do or say. You still hadn’t spoken, but he didn’t want to let this moment pass either of you by.
“Congratulations, Lieutenant Commander,” he said, giving you a salute and you laughed, shaking your head at him. You tentatively reached out for him and he immediately wrapped his arms around you and lifted you off the ground before twirling you in a circle as you let out a giggle, “I always knew you’d be the first to break Lieutenant,” he said setting you down but keeping his hands on your waist and you had no intention of removing your arms from his shoulders. “You deserve it, Cobra, this and so much more.” You just beamed up at him, his words of praise washing over you and filling your chest with warmth and you pulled away from him when Coyote cleared his throat behind you.
“So, when’s the big celebration?” he asked as you turned to face him and adjusted your dress awkwardly.
“Rather soon actually… they thought we would want to do it before we return from break, turns out they know a thing or two about what we get up to in our free time,” you laughed, “it’s this Friday.”
“Well, then you and I have to go shopping for dresses. Of course we’ll wear our stuffy dress uniforms for the actual banquet but… afterwards we’re going out for a proper night on the town to celebrate our girl, what do you say?” Phoenix asked, addressing the rest of the group and everyone nodded.
“Oh, oh no…” Bob said and you all looked at him in confusion, “this is going to be a repeat of the night after the uranium mission isn’t it?” he asked and you let out a loud laugh before reaching over to ruffle his hair. Poor sweet Bob had been the only sober one present to keep everyone alive and well after you’d all returned home, desperate to let loose and blow off steam once the mission was over.
“Oh, Bob… have I told you today how much I love you? These new glasses really suit your face,” you said, fully redirecting the conversation which was confirmation in and of itself that yes… it was going to be a repeat.
—--
You stood at attention as Admiral Simpson read out your new rank and you saluted, smiling softly as Maverick came to affix your new pin to your uniform, as was tradition for a loved one to do the honors. You’d thought about calling your family, but with the short notice you knew they’d be unable to attend and Maverick was the next best thing, he’d been absolutely delighted when you’d asked. The night had passed with a blur, you making introductions with several important people you’d not yet had the chance to meet as Cyclone essentially dragged you from person to person. You kept chuckling as you’d spare glances towards your team, keeping up an air of professionalism but if you looked just a little closer you could tell they were getting up to nothing but trouble as they sipped the champagne that seemed to be flowing freely and laughed amongst themselves. You couldn’t help the laughter that escaped you as they all scrambled to salute you when you finally approached their table, almost yelling Lieutenant Commander completely out of sync.
“God, I love you guys,” you said through your laughs, “things are finally wrapping up, still the plan to meet at the Hard Deck at nine?” you asked and everyone nodded as they got ready to leave.
“Mind if I drive you?” Hangman asked, and you nodded at him despite everything in you telling you no. You made your way out to the parking lot where he opened the door for you and helped you climb in, chuckling to himself as you grunted.
“No reason to have a truck like this in San Diego,” you muttered, buckling your seatbelt as he got in, “purely aesthetic, Jacob Seresin, people back home would laugh at you.”
“They would not,” he scoffed, pulling out of the lot and beginning the short drive to your home.
“They surely would. They’d call you a poser, say you’ve forgotten your roots with this fancy thing in the city.”
“If anything this truck is me remembering my roots,” he countered and you shook your head.
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but all the real cowboys back home don’t drive frilly rigs like this.”
“You know what, I’ll let you have it, seeing as it's your day and all,” he said, smirking at you before returning his eyes to the road.
“As you should,” you said simply, turning your attention out your window as a silence settled over the cab.
“I really am proud of you, you know,” he finally said, “you’ve been busting your ass. Not just on the mission, but by naturally stepping into a leadership role at Top Gun, going out of your way to help everyone… it’s really impressive and I just thought you should know that.”
“Thank you, Jake,” you said, cheeks flushing under his praise as you pulled into your driveway. “You coming in or will I see you in a few hours?”
“I’ve got my change of clothes with me but… I- I don’t want to impose,” he said and you smiled softly at his suddenly sheepish demeanor.
“I did ask, Hangman,” you said, getting out of the truck and making your way to unlock your front door and he was quick to follow. You made your way through the foyer, checking the clock on your wall and seeing you had plenty of time to spare as you kicked your boots off. “I don’t know about you but I am dying to get out of this uniform, bathrooms right there if you want to change,” you said as you made your way down the hallway and into your bedroom where you changed into a tee shirt and flowy shorts to get ready. When you reemerged you had to fight to keep your jaw off the floor, blinking slowly as you took him in, wearing a neutral patterned short sleeve button up with well-fitting blue slacks and he smirked as he noticed.
“Well, you certainly clean up nice,” you said, fetching the pair of you beers before motioning him to follow you to your bedroom where you took a seat at your vanity.
“I should say the same, San Diego won’t know what hit them when you hit the town in those… What are those, daisy shorts?”
“Oh hush, this obviously isn’t what I’m wearing,” you said as you gestured for him to take a seat on your bed and you made eye contact in the mirror as you plugged your curling iron in, “on a scale of one-post uranium mission how rowdy do you think it’s going to get tonight?”
“Considering Phe was already a little tipsy when we left, I’m gonna say it might be a little worse,” he chuckled, taking a sip of his beer.
“Poor Bob,” you mused, sectioning your hair and beginning to curl as he watched with amusement.
“I think he actually enjoys it,” he shrugged. “Look, I’ve been wanting to talk to you… I understand why you’ve been avoiding me, I was entirely out of line with what happened and I just wanted to apologize.”
“You weren’t out of line, Jake,” you said, dropping a section of hair before starting on the next. “You surely took me by surprise, but you weren’t out of line.”
“If it wasn’t out of line you wouldn’t have dropped off the face of the earth for three days… it’s really okay, you have no obligation to spare my feelings, I just want us to go back to how things were… I’ve really missed you.”
You sighed, setting the iron down and turning to face him, “I did kiss you back. Twice.”
“It’s a little detail I’m willing to overlook,” he said, looking at you with pleading eyes and you felt your body thrum under his gaze, drawing you in and clouding your judgment. Ever since Rooster had shown up at your door, you’d been thinking and overthinking, carefully considering his words and the chord they’d struck within you.
“I’m not,” you said, turning back around and starting back in on your hair as silence fell over the room. You’d gotten almost all of the way through when he finally spoke again.
“What does that mean?” he asked, running a hand through his hair as his knee bounced nervously. You finished the last strand of your hair, unplugging the iron as you took a swig of your beer and clipped the front sections away from your face.
“It means I don’t want to overlook it.” you said, taking a makeup wipe to your face and removing any trace before you could start fresh.
“Okay, but like… what does that mean?” he asked again, confusion clear as day across his face as he tried to understand what you were implying. You made eye contact in the mirror as you blended foundation into your skin.
“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking since you kissed me. Ever since that day you came over and we agreed to be friends I’ve been fighting this… attraction towards you with every fiber of my being because you scare the shit out of me. I’m okay right now, I have great friends, my career is progressing exactly as I would like it to,” you moved on to swirl blush onto your cheeks, speaking so nonchalantly it was as if you were giving him the weather report. “Giving into this, giving in to you, threatens all of that. I’ve never been good at relationships and your track record speaks for itself but I know enough to know that this? This is just dangerous,” you dusted your cheeks with highlighter before taking another drink as he just stared at you blankly. “Letting you in means potentially compromising the friend group, compromising everything I’ve worked so hard for, hell it compromises my own sanity because honestly I think when this burns in it’s going to devastate me,” you said, moving onto your eyes, still speaking so calmly. “These are all things I know to be true and yet I just don’t have any fight left in me anymore.” He finally moved, setting his beer bottle next to yours and placing his hands on the back of your chair, watching you in the mirror as you continued on with your makeup, your focus sharp as you drew wings onto your liner.
“Sweetheart, are we going to get to the part where you tell me what this means?” You remained silent for a moment, sweeping mascara across your lashes before discarding the tube on the messy table top and taking another drink of your beer as you met his eyes.
“It means that if that kiss was foreboding something that is just physical for you, you need to tell me so I can… so I can process it and move on, because I-” for the first time emotion seeped into your voice as you stumbled over your words, and he gently grabbed your arm to pull you up and into him as he stared down into your eyes.
“Honey, I am just as terrified as you are, but you and me… we don’t run from the scary stuff, we dive in headfirst and I don’t want to do anything but that with you. This has never been just physical for me,” he whispered as he cradled your jaw between his hands.
“You are… god, I just, I can’t stand you sometimes because you’re… it’s like you’re in me, even when we weren’t friends and all we did was fight it was like you were apart of me, like I was infected by Jacob Seresin,” you chuckled dryly as tears welled in your eyes and you lost your grip on all the reasons why not you’d been clinging so tightly to as his hands slipped down to grip your waist, “I- I… I love you and I, fuck I didn’t… that just flew right out but I love you,” a tear slipped down your cheek as you unraveled before his eyes and as much as you wanted to force yourself to shut up, to claim some kind of psychotic break and lock yourself in the bathroom you couldn’t stop now that you’d started. “I-I do, I love you and I have been trying so hard to just mash it down and ignore it and not say it because this is just… this is a bad idea and I know it but I just can’t think about anything or anyone and I can’t sleep, I can’t- I can’t breathe because I am just so in love with you and I-” you were cut off by his lips on your own and you melted into him, tangling your hands in his hair as you pulled him closer only for him to pull back and leave you breathless.
“You’re in love with me,” he said, wiping a falling tear and looking down at you almost as if he didn’t believe it and you chuckled, cheeks flushing at the uncharacteristic emotional outburst.
“Be cool about it,” you sighed and he brushed your hair away from your face before placing another quick kiss to your lips. His hands enveloped your jaw, fingers splaying across your neck as he tipped your head back and drank you in.
“I’m so in love with you,” he whispered, kissing you again and you couldn’t help but smile against his lips. He pulled back, reaching to grab your makeup sponge and dab at your cheeks and you gasped, plucking it from his hands and swatting him away.
“What are you doing, you’re going to make it worse,” you said, “very sweet but I’ll fix it myself.” He chuckled, sitting down in your chair and pulling you into his lap as you fixed the tear streaks and ran your fingers through your curls.
“So beautiful,” he mumbled, placing kisses to your shoulder and you smiled softly, standing and pulling him up with you.
“I’ll be right back,” you said, kissing him again and retreating to your closet where you picked out a set of strapless lingerie you’d bought a few weeks ago and slipped your dress on, walking back out and turning away from him, “zip me up?” you asked and you felt his fingers trail up your arm.
“Is that a bit of red lace I see?” he asked, slowly tugging the zipper up, “you’re killing me, honey,” he whispered into your ear before roughly turning you around and pulling you into him.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said innocently, giggling as he rolled his eyes at you.
“Sure you don’t,” you escaped his grasp, grabbing your shoes and sitting on the edge of the bed to strap them on and he crouched before you, taking them and sliding them on, carefully fastening them into place as you watched in adoration. His hand trailed up your calf before pulling you up and twirling you around, “you are a sight for sore eyes, honey.”
“You don’t look so bad yourself,” you said, smiling up at him as his fingers brushed just under the hem of your dress.
“Where have you been hiding this thing?”
“You have Phoenix to thank for this,” you laughed and he promised you he would. You briefly thought you should have been freaking out. You should have been overwhelmed by what had come tumbling out of your mouth but you weren’t, you felt lighter than you had in weeks and you felt nothing but excitement at the idea of embarking on a night of celebration with him at your side.
You walked into the Hard Deck hand in hand with Jake, having just got into an argument about kissing you and disrupting your perfectly applied lipstick as everyone’s heads turned to face you. “Look at the lot of you,” Penny said shaking her head, “is the Navy only accepting movie stars these days?” She set a drink before you as you laughed, “this one’s on me, congratulations, Lieutenant Commander.”
“Thank you, Pen,” you blushed as you approached the rather dapper looking Dagger Squad. “I see everyone understood the assignment tonight,” you teased.
“Yes, and everyone finish their one drink, we are not wasting this on the place we wind up every night.” Phoenix ordered as Penny approached with her phone out.
“I’m going to try not to take offense to that. At the risk of sounding like a mom on prom night, everyone squish together, I want a photo of you on this most momentous occasion,” she said, gesturing you all to pose and Jake swiftly pulled you into him, his hand settling on your waist as you leaned against him and smiled for the photo before you all broke apart.
“I’m serious, you might be the woman of the hour but chug. There’s this super cute bar downtown and I want to go before it gets too crowded,” Phoenix said, gesturing to your margarita and you just looked up at Jake.
“And so it begins,” you said, tipping your head back and polishing off the drink, “oh fuck, that was spicy,” you wheezed and everyone laughed as you were whisked away to a rather swanky little bar that seemed a little too posh for what you were sure this night would entail. One shot turned into two, then three and suddenly you were on top of a table with Phoenix as you both drunkenly sang along to Beyonce, flipping off the camera Rooster had pointed in your direction. Your heel precariously slipped off the edge of the table, causing you to lose your balance entirely and before you could even process what was happening you found yourself in Jake’s arms as he just looked down at you amused.
“You doing alright, princess?” he asked and you beamed up at him.
“Wonderful. This is the perfect night,” you grinned and he leaned down to place a kiss on your lips, lipstick be damned, only pulling apart at the chaos it caused.
“Hold on.” Phoenix muttered.
“Oh, I fucking knew it,” Fanboy laughed.
“Are you guys blind? They walked in holding hands,” Rooster pointed out but it only added fuel to the fire.
“To be fair, I was distracted by her legs,” Phoenix said and you hid your face in Jake’s chest as he placed you back on solid ground. The group devolved into questions and Phoenix just gave you a look, grabbing your hand and pulling you to the bathroom to leave Jake to fend for himself.
“When did that happen?” she asked and you sighed as you leaned against the sink.
“After the banquet… he drove me home and we got ready together and I don’t know what came over me. I was telling him all the reasons why I didn’t want to and before I knew it I was telling him I was in love with him.”
“A big night for you, indeed,” she said, fixing your hair. “I really am so happy for you. This is good, and I’m not even going to tell you I told you so.”
“I think you just did,” you giggled before the two of you stumbled out of the bathroom with your arms linked.
“Come on you booze hounds, we’re switching locations,” Rooster said, slinging an arm over Phoenix’s shoulder as Jake navigated you out into the cool night air. The next bar was much more your speed, filled with people just as drunk as you all were and decorated modestly. It was the group's natural instinct to migrate to the pool table, overtaking it and claiming it as your own as you and Jake went head to head.
“Don’t think I’m going easy on you just because I got mushy earlier,” you said as you racked the balls and he just shook his head and laughed.
“I wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart.” The game went as it always did, with the two of you hurling insults left and right but with the addition of subtle teasing on your part to throw him off his game. Just as he was lining up the winning shot you rested your hands on the pool table just in front of the eight ball, leaning forward and giving him what he considered to be the best view in the house. His eyes raked over you and even from your spot across the pool table you could see them darken but it only served as motivation instead of a deterrent, “as much as I love you, I’m not throwing the game that easily.” he said as he sank the ball and you groaned.
“I am not going to get used to hearing that,” Coyote said as you perched yourself on the edge of the pool table and pouted as he came to stand between your legs.
“Come on sweetheart, no one likes a sore loser.” he teased and you rolled your eyes, pushing him away.
“I am not a sore loser,” you protested.
“You are when you’re drunk.”
“I’m not that either,” you said, narrowing your eyes and he just laughed at you as he brushed your hair behind your ear.
“Oh princess, you are absolutely hammered.” He kissed the tip of your nose and you just smiled dopily at him.
“Okay, maybe I am…” you giggled as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and pulled you into him. You breathed in his cologne as you clung to him and sighed in content as he placed a kiss to the top of your head before you pulled away to look up at him. “Everything is perfect, so very perfect.” you said, turning your gaze to look over your friends, smiling as you saw Rooster and Phoenix over at the dart board, Coyote and Fanboy talking to a pair of girls at the bar, and Bob sitting in a booth keeping a watchful eye over everyone.
“It really is, isn’t it?” he said, never moving his gaze from you as you lovingly looked at all of your friends.
“You cheeseball,” you said when you turned back to him and he just chuckled.
“Your cheeseball.” he said, cupping your face and pulling you in for a kiss, “I love you, darlin’.”
“I love you, too.”
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Spider-Man(?) [Hotch x Reader]
Photo credits: Left (@rebecca--barnes) Center (google) Right (@hotchs-big-hands)
Prompt: Aaron hires the reader to come and be Spider-Man at Jack’s fifth birthday party and ends up offering the reader some comfort and advice at the same time.
Pairing: Aaron x fem!non-BAU!reader. The reader uses she/her pronouns
Category: fluff/comfort
Word Count: 6.1K
Content Warnings: drinking [light], some sadness / depression, tension [slight (Haley and Hotch)], mention of breakups [Haley and Hotch], if I missed any, please let me know.
A/N: Hi loves! Here is another fic based on the amazing @imagining-in-the-margins January/February Writing Challenge. The prompt this was based on was “Characters change career paths with a very different job.” I wrote this because sometimes I feel stuck in my life (even though I love my job), but sometimes I wonder if things could be different. So I wanted a bit of encouragement from Aaron. So this goes out to anyone who just feels a bit mheh right now. I wrote this as a platonic fic but read it how you like. If you enjoy this fic, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! I hope you’re having a great start to your week and thanks for reading. Love Levi - ❤️
List with all stories
_y/n_= your name
_y/l/n_ = your last name
_y/f/d/p_ = your favorite Disney Princess
_a/t/y/k_ = any tricks you know
Aaron was doubtful as he called the final number on his list. The name already wasn’t promising, and he was trying to find any way to make sure Jack had what he wanted for this fifth birthday party. Hotch had never really been someone who had been interested in superheroes. The most exposure he had to them was the Batman comic strip that ran in the Sunday paper when he was a kid, and even then, the story always took too long to unfold to keep his attention for more than a few weeks in a row. Then when he was older, and the Marvle boom had hit, the movies that were coming out had no real appeal to him. However, Aaron had become a fan of superheroes for Jack’s sake. Jack loved to watch the Amazing Spiderman cartoons on Saturday morning with a bowl of cereal in his little hands. Aaron would often watch along with his son for some quality time before he got picked up by Haley. Aaron had come to love those moments of quiet, watching his boy’s eyes light up as Peter Parker fought off one villain or another. Jack wasn’t old enough yet to get the romantic problems Spider-man had, but Hotch knew that one day, they’d have that conversation, and he’d feel old giving it out. Aaron already could see Jack growing into his own person with his own opinions and friend groups. It was because of this, the fact that childhood was so fleeting, that Aaron wanted to give his son the perfect birthday party.
Hotch had been searching for a Spider-Man to make an appearance at the party for an hour or so. He’d coordinated with Haley, and she’d gotten a superhero-themed cake and she agreed to let someone come and cosplay for Jack and his friends. But the search so far had been unsuccessful. He heaved a sigh and dialed the last number. If Party Princesses Inc. didn’t have someone who could do it, he wasn’t sure what he would do. Aaron made a fine Santa at Christmas time, but he was no Spider-man. The phone rang three times before someone picked up. The woman on the other line sounded tired as she said, “Party Princessess Inc. How can we help make your party magical?” Hotch let out a breath and replied, “Hi, I was wondering if you had someone who could be Spider-Man for a party three weeks from this Saturday?” There was a brief pause before the lady said, “Let me check the schedule for that Saturday, Sir.” Aaron nodded and waited for a few minutes. When the woman came back on the line, she said, “Sir, none of our guys are scheduled for that weekend, but we have a girl that can pull off Spider-Man pretty well. She does crossplay or whatever that is.” Hotch hesitated for a moment, He wasn’t sure about this, but at least there was an option, even if it wasn’t a great one. As if the woman could sense his hesitation, she said, “I know it might not be ideal, but _y/n_ is convincing. There are pictures of her on our website as Spider-Man so you can see them. I wish he had more guys on the team, but we don’t get that many requests for male characters at boys' parties. This is a party for a boy, right?” Aaron replied, “Yes, it’s for my son. If I did want to book the person you’re talking about would that be through the webpage or somewhere else? I don’t see a form online.” The woman clicked on a keyboard for a second before saying, “We’re currently updating our website, so the form is temporarily down for the public, but what I can do is give you _y/n_’s number and if you decide you want to book her, she can fill out the form from her end and email it over for your records.” Hotch replied, “Alright. Could you give me _y/n_’s last name and number, please?” The tired assistant relayed the information and Hotch hung up shortly after that. He then opened his laptop and looked up _y/n_’s profile on the Party Princesses website. As unconvinced as Aaron had been, the photos of the young woman were pretty convincing. She made a good _y/f/d/p_ but also passed off as a Spider-Man, Captain America, and Luke Skywalker. She was so convincing that Aaron might have believed _y/n_ was a guy if it wasn’t for the softer curves of her hips and shoulders. Jack wouldn’t notice, and even if he did, it would be a good learning opportunity for his son to realize that not everyone felt like just a boy or girl, and people could look however they liked if if made them comfortable. Hotch felt relieved that he had persisted because it looked like he was going to be able to give Jack a big surprise at his party. He quickly dialed the number the woman had given him because he didn’t want to risk having his only option get booked for another party.
A bright and chipper voice answered saying, “Hey this is _y/n_ with Party Princesses Inc. How can I make your party magical?” There was a large contrast from the woman at the agency. Hotch cleared his throat and said, “Hello. My name is Aaron Hotchner. I was told to give you a call if I was interested in booking you for a party in three weeks.” There was a shuffling on the other end of the line and _y/n_ said, “You are correct, Mr. Hotchner. Please give me one second and let me pull up my calendar and the form I need to fill out for you.” Aaron waited patiently for _y/n_ to come back. When she did, she started by asking, “Alright, sorry for that wait. What day and time would you like me?” Aaron provided those details, and then _y/n_ asked, “Alright, and how long were you wanting me and in which character?” Aaron replied, “Could you tell me about your rates before I decide a time? I didn’t see them on the website. And I was looking for Spider-Man if can do that.” There was a soft chuckle before _y/n_ replied, “I can somehow still manage to pull off Spider-Man, shockingly. And about the prices. I charge a flat rate of $25 for thirty minutes or $45 for an hour. If you want me longer than that it’s an additional $25 for each thirty minutes after that.” Hotch was surprised by the rate. He thought it was low for the type of service being offered. He wondered for a second who set the prices. He didn’t elaborate on that question though as he said, “Could I book you for two hours from 1:00 to 3:00?” _y/n_ responded quickly, “Absolutely. If you could give me an email address I will send over this form and ask you a few questions like the address you’re holding the party at and parking and such. Also if I could get your cell number as well, just in case I run into traffic or there’s an emergency or something.” Aaron nodded and said, “Right. A good email is [email protected] and a good number is 215-359-0075.” Hotch heard as _y/n_ typed in the information and said, “Perfect. I just want to let you know that because I’m not a guy I won’t be able to take off the mask in front of the party guests, and that the company requires you to pay me in either cash or check at the end of the allotted time. Does that work for you, Mr. Hotchner?” Aaron nodded. For the first time, a small note of discomfort could be detected in _y/n_’s voice. Again, Aaron didn’t question this as he said, “That checks out with me. Thanks so much for taking this, I was getting a bit desperate.” That soft chuckle from _y/n_ came back and Hotch couldn’t help but smile slightly. From _y/n_’s tone and energy, he wondered how old _y/n_ was. _y/n_ replied, “Well I’m happy to help Mr. Hotchner. I’ll send over that email in a few minutes and then I’ll see you in three weeks.” With that, both parties hung up. Aaron couldn't help but smile himself for being able to do this for Jack, and he couldn’t wait to see the look on his son's face when Spider-man showed up at his party.
The weeks that led up to Jack's big day went quickly. There was one long case that took the team away for seven days, but that didn’t stop Aaron, and especially Jack from getting excited for the party. Jack had invited all of his preschool class as well as a few friends from soccer. Aaron spent some time getting some last-minute gifts for Jack and making the final arrangements for food and balloons. They were holding the party at Rossi’s because neither Aaron nor Haley had the indoor and outdoor space to hold eighteen kids and their parents. Hotch was incredibly grateful for his friend and his team, as they all loved Jack so much. The BAU was going to be there on Saturday. He was grateful for this because it would be the first time he met Haley’s new boyfriend since the separation. He was happy for Haley, of course. He wanted her to be content and find someone to love, but that didn’t take away the sting that he still felt at how things had ended. He prayed that it wouldn’t be an awkward situation when he met her new boyfriend. For his part, he was going to make it as easy as possible, and that was going to be aided by having his support system behind him. After all the day was about Jack, not him and Haley’s relationship. On Friday that week, he left the office at five. He stopped off at Rossi’s office to hand off his gifts for tomorrow. It wouldn’t be much of a surprise if he took them in the car with Jack tomorrow. After Dave had the presents on his desk, Aaron said, “ Thanks for everything, Dave. I really appreciate you.” Rossi laughed and said, “Well don’t thank me yet, we still have a party to get through tomorrow. Now if it goes well, then you can thank me with a bottle of that whiskey I like.” That got Aaron laughing. Hotch straightened up and Rossi asked, “Did you tell Spider-Man about the parking and the surprise entrance?” Hotch nodded and said, “We got it all cleared. Now let’s just pray for a clear day.” Dave smiled and replied, “Don’t worry, Hotch. It’s gonna be perfect. Now go and get Jack. You don’t want him waiting at school the day before his birthday.” With that statement of encouragement, Aaron left the office and waved bye to Emily and Spencer who were still in the bullpen. Both agents told him that they’d see him tomorrow.
Aaron drove to Jack’s preschool and parked. On Fridays, when Hotch had Jack for the weekends, his son stayed after school at a reading program. The extra half-hour gave him time to get from the office and to the school. Aaron hopped out of the car and moved inside. He signed Jack out and the coordinator of the program sent Jack out to his dad. Jack’s face lit up, as he ran on small legs to hug his dad. Hotch accepted the gesture happily and said, “Hey bud! You’re looking sharp today in your button-up. Is that new?” Jack nodded happily and said, “Mhm. Garret got to for me as an early present.” Aaron smiled and replied, “Well it looks great son. How about we go home, maybe stop at the park on the way there?” Jack nodded giddily and started toward the door excitedly. At the park, Hotch played with his son on the playground and ended up pushing him on the swings higher and higher into the air. Aaron didn’t make any more comments about the fact that Haley’s new partner was getting his son clothes. It was a nice gesture, but it made Hotch wonder if the man was trying to buy his son’s affection. He didn’t want to read into it too much, but he couldn’t help do it a little. After the separation from Haley, things felt different. Of course, they did. But Aaron hadn’t expected it to be so difficult. Sometimes he felt like he was walking on eggshells around Haley, and now Garret. He didn’t want there to be any tension, especially for his son’s sake. It made Aaron feel like a normal human having to deal with these kinds of situations. Not that he thought he was extraordinary or anything, just that profiling usually allowed him to read situations better. In the case of his personal life, he wasn’t succeeding in it well. When the park became boring to Jack, and Aaron made sure his son had gotten some of his extra post-school energy out, they headed for home. In the car, Jack asked, “Daddy, can we get pizza tonight?” Hotch smiled in the front seat, looked at Jack in the rearview, and said, “Not tonight. Remember that we’re having pizza at your party tomorrow and I don’t want you to get tired of it before your big day.” Jack sulked in the back. However, he quickly turned around and asked, “What are we having then?” Aaron smiled and said, “It thought maybe some chicken nuggets and Mac and Cheese?” Hearing this, Jack smiled, but it fell when Aaron added, “And some peas and carrots.” Jack made a gagging face at the mention of vegetables and he replied, “You know we gotta eat those veggies to have the good stuff kiddo.” Jack continued to sulk but knew that this was a rule for both Dad and Mom’s house and as much as he fought it, it was what they’d set up.
The rest of the night went by quickly. Jack ate his dinner with little fuss, and after a bedtime story, he went to sleep excited for his birthday tomorrow. Once Jack’s night light was on and he was tucked in, Aaron moved into the kitchen on soft feet. He poured himself a glass of white to relax for the rest of the evening. He moved to the couch and grabbed the novel he was currently reading. He was trying to relax more for himself and Jack’s sake. He knew being stressed all the time was bad for his health and given how his father had died young, he wasn’t planning on repeating that for Jack. Of course in Aaron’s case, he was happy for his father to be gone. It was a blessing more than anything else. The relief he felt at his father’s passing was something he still hadn’t processed, but for now, he was fine. He had to be fine for Jack and the team's sake. Aaron pushed the thought aside and dove into his book and let the night slip away like sand in an hourglass.
In the morning, Hotch took his normal long Saturday run at 5:00 a.m. The pounding of his feet on the pavement was a great way to get the stress out for the day ahead. Running had become therapeutic for him as it gave him something to do in the early hours of the morning when he naturally woke up and had nothing to do to fill the space before Jack woke up for the day. They had been even longer runs before he and Haley had set up the visiting schedule with his son. But now that it was sorted out, and they were doing their best to co-parent, things had finally slipped into place a bit more. When Aaron got home, he started some coffee on the machine and moved to his room. He stripped off his sweaty shirt and pants along with his briefs. He threw them all in the laundry basket in his closet. Once the shower was suitably warm, he stepped under the flow of the water and let his muscles relax. He played through what the day might look like and remembered that he’d have to text _y/n_ about where the gate to Rossi’s backyard was for her surprise entrance. This thought came to him as he was rinsing the suds out of his short hair. He tipped his head back a little more so no soap got in his eyes. He was at the age in his life where a warm shower could just make the morning and this one was doing just that. Even after he was clean, he stood under the water for a few minutes more. When he was content, he stepped out and dried off.
When he had his clothes on and teeth brushed, Hotch moved to Jack’s room and woke him gently. Jack turned on his side and opened his eyes slowly. He smiled up at this dad and said, “Hey,” in a sleepy voice. Aaron knelt near his bed and said, “Morning Buddy. Happy Birthday.” It was like Jack had forgotten it was his birthday and sat up and said, “It’s my birthday!” in an excited voice. Hotch gave a little laugh and said, “Yup. It’s a big day for a big boy. Now how about you pick out an outfit for the day and then come into the kitchen? We can grab some breakfast and watch cartoons until we need to head to Uncle Rossi’s?” Jack nodded excitedly as he scrambled out of bed. Aaron watched with a smile as Jack got some clothes from his small dresser. Hotch moved back to the kitchen and got his first cup of coffee and a bowl of cereal for his son. By the time Jack was out of his room, Spider-Man was on the TV and they settled on the couch near the screen and ate their breakfast. Jack was wearing jeans and his Spider-Man t-shirt that Aaron had gotten him last month. At around eleven, Hotch looked down at Jack and said, “Alright bud, I think it’s time that we head over to your party. How about that?” Jack nodded and moved off the couch for his shoes. Aaron turned off the TV and grabbed his jacket, keys, and wallet. The drive over to Rossi’s was filled with some music and Jack’s excited feet kicking up and down in his seat. It didn’t take long to get to the site of the party and Hotch recognized Derek and JJ’s cars on the street already. He smiled as he and Jack moved down the sidewalk and to Rossi’s large glass door. Dave opened the door for the birthday boy, and he gave Jack a big hug which was then increased as Derek, Spencer, Penelope, and JJ, came into the entryway. There were greetings on all sides, and the guests started to arrive. As the party picked up, the kids started playing some games inside. Haley, who had shown up with a big pack of guests was mingling with the other parents and making them feel welcome. Aaron was telling the parents where to put the gifts while Haley was telling the adults where the grown-up drinks were and where the kid’s drinks were. Once all the parents had been greeted, Hotch walked over to Haley and gave her a light hug asking how she was doing. She replied, “Oh I’m doing good. Work is a pain like always, but when isn’t it? How about you? Any pressing cases right now?” Hotch nodded no and replied, “Thankfully not, but now you’ve said something about it Strauss will probably call me right now.” Haley let out a laugh and said “Well if that happens I’ll be happy to throw your cell out the window for you.” Now Aaron laughed. As worried as he had been, now that he was here, everything felt okay for now. He was glad that he and Haley could still have a relationship, a friendly one, after everything they had been through. He cleared his throat and said, “We’d better go and talk to some of the parents. Dave loves mingling, but not that much.” Haley smiled and nodded, and they both moved to the kitchen and living areas to talk and watch the party.
After a few minutes of party games and Aaron circling around and saying special thank you’s to the team for coming. The pizza arrived and Aaron, Haley, and the rest of the parents made sure that the kids stayed at the kid’s tables set up in the kitchen to stop any mess from spreading into Rossi’s living room and white couches. After everyone had had a slice or two of some good old-fashioned pepperoni or cheese, Hotch suggested that the kids go out and play a round of soccer on the lawn. He’d made sure to bring along a soccer ball for this exact occasion. He also made sure to text _y/n_ that the birthday boy would be outside in a moment. _y/n_ responded that she was ready whenever the kids came outside. Initiating the plan, Aaron tossed Jack the soccer ball and opened the door for his son and his friends. A few of the parents moved out with their kids. Jack ran around marking the goalposts and while he was very interested in setting a stick down for the middle of the backyard to mark the middle of their make-believe field, _y/n_ slipped in the back gate. Hotch and a few of the other kids noticed and cried out in excitement with little screams of happiness. However, Jack was too obsessed with his game to notice. Aaron let out a little laugh and approached his son. He tapped Jack on the shoulder and said, “Hey, buddy, I think someone’s here to see you.” Jack looked up at his dad who was kneeling on the grass. The little boy looked over to where Aaron was looking. Hotch watched as Jack’s eyes went wide and he whispered, “Spider-Man?” And then more enthusiastically, “Spider-Man!” Jack ran over and gave _y/n_ a tight hug around her legs. Aaron was surprised how convincing _y/n_ looked in the costume. He chalked it up to youth, and again, he was incredibly grateful he didn’t have to don the costume himself because heaven knew he wouldn’t look like that.
_y/n_ smiled as the little boy sprinted over as quickly as he could. She knew it was the birthday boy because his dad, Mr. Hotchner, had described him and told her his name was Jack. Before the little boy had noticed her, _y/n_ watched as, who she assumed was Jack’s dad, kneeled near him. The man was strikingly attractive. Mr. Hotchner had sounded nice on the phone. He had a deep, rich voice that carried well over the line, but _y/n_ hadn’t expected him to look as nice as he sounded. It was a rarity for the dads to set up this kind of thing. It made _y/n_ respect the man who clearly understood what his kid enjoyed. _y/n_ snapped out of her thoughts and looked at Hotch when Jack made contact with her legs. _y/n_ knelt and gave Jack a hug. The little boy asked in awe, “Spider-Man, what are you doing here?” _y/n_ smiled under her mask and said, “Well I was swinging around the neighborhood and someone spilled that it was your Birthday, so I thought I’d have to come by and say Happy Birthday!” Jack’s eyes stayed wide and he said, “Who told you?” _y/n_ looked over to Aaron who was standing now and was looking at the pair with a stunning smile. Jack followed her gaze to his dad. Jack’s jaw dropped and he said, “Daddy knows Spider-Man!” _y/n_ put her finger to her lips and made a “shhh-ing” sound before saying, “He does, but we can’t let anyone else know. You know how those villains get when that kind of information gets out.” Jack closed his mouth and nodded solemnly. _y/n_ didn’t want to keep Jack away from his friends for too long and noticed the soccer ball and said, “Hey how about we play some soccer with your friends?” Jack nodded enthusiastically and moved toward his friends excitedly to tell them that Spider-Man was going to play with them. The kids and _y/n_ spent about twenty-five minutes playing. _y/n_ made sure the ball stayed almost entirely with the kids and Jack and cheered when anyone made a “goal.” _y/n_ looked over at Aaron for a second and noted that he was now talking to a woman and another man. _y/n_ wasn’t close enough to hear what was being said, but even with the mask on, Mr. Hotchner didn’t look too comfortable. _y/n_ didn’t have a chance to question it too much as one of Jack’s friends approached them and said, “Can you show us some of your moves!” _y/n_ let out a laugh and said, “Well I can try, but I’m a bit sore from fighting Doc Ock a few blocks over, so let’s see what I’ve got.” The boy called out that Spider-Man was going to do some tricks and that got the attention of most of the kids and some of the parents, including the trio, that included Hotch. _y/n_ moved to the open part of the yard and did a cartwheel into a superhero pose and all the kids cheered, _y/n_ kept doing _a/t/y/k_ for a few minutes. When _y/n_ was all out of stunts, she asked, “Now how about y’all? Do any of you have any superhero moves?” A hoard of hands went up and _y/n_ organized an informal competition for all the kids to show off there summersaults and jumps and kicks, all of which were ten-out-of-tens! After a few minutes of judging, the woman that Aaron was talking to came up to her and said, “Sweetheart, why don’t you take a quick break inside? You must be baking in that costume. Jack will keep you here all night if you let him.” _y/n_ smiled and nodded saying, “Thanks, that would be nice. I can be back out in a few minutes.” Haley nodded and said, “Take your time. I can handle them for a few minutes.” _y/n_ nodded again and moved into the fancy house for the first time.
The open doors lead to a nice open kitchen with marble countertops and brass barstools. Once _y/n_ was sure none of the kids were watching, she stripped off the mask covering her face. _y/n_ took a deep breath. Not that the mask was hard to breathe in, just a bit claustrophobic. The woman who had offered her a reprieve had been right, _y/n_ was very hot in the form-fitting costume. _y/n_ assumed the blonde-haired woman was Jack’s mom. For some reason _y/n_ started to wonder if she and Mr. Hotchner were still married. From the way Mr. Hotchner had been standing uncomfortably, it seemed that perhaps there was some tension there. _y/n_ cursed her brain that saw things that weren’t probably there and found anyone older than her attractive. This wasn’t why she was here. This was the furthest reason she was here. Thankfully _y/n_ was pulled from these thoughts when someone said, “You’re really good at this; you know that, right?” _y/n_ turned around and saw a pretty brunette woman who was moving toward the bar with an empty wineglass in hand. _y/n_ smiled and said, “Thank you. I’m still kind of new to this, so I’m happy to hear I don’t look like a complete fool out there.” The woman smiled and said, “Far from it! You’re doing awesome. I know you’ve made Jack’s day.” _y/n_ smiled and said, “Thanks. He seems like a great kid.” The woman smiled and stepped forward with a hand extended. _y/n_ took it and the woman said, “Emily, Prentiss.” _y/n_ smiled and said, “_y/n_ _y/l/n_. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Emily smiled and said, “Same here.” _y/n_was very happy she’d taken this job now. She was rarely acknowledged by anyone at parties, and at this one, she’d been offered a break and someone had noticed her existence. It was a nice reprieve as _y/n_ had been questioning her life choices recently.
Someone else came into the room and looked at Emily and _y/n_. The bearded man looked at _y/n_ and asked, “You want a drink, kid? I’d say you’ve earned one with how happy you’ve made Jack. We’ve got wine and beer in a cooler if that’s more your thing.” _y/n_ smiled and replied, “Thank you for the offer, but it’s company policy that we don’t drink on the job. I think one or two Elsa’s had one too many and caused some problems, thus the policy.” _y/n_’s candidness had Emily almost snorting out her wine while she laughed hard. The man also chuckled and said, “You sure, we have plenty.” Prentiss composed herself and said, “Oh come on Rossi, we don’t want to get her fired.” _y/n_ smiled and said, “I appreciate it, but I really shouldn’t. I have another party after this one. If I didn’t, I’d be tempted. You’re a very kind host.” Dave gave _y/n_ a soft smile. Shortly after, Aaron entered the room and said, “I think the kids are going to come in to do cakes and presents, so you might need to put the mask back on?” _y/n_ nodded and adjusted her wig cap, holding all her hair at bay before slipping the mask back on and zipping it up the back. _y/n_ joked and said, “Ready for duty Mr. Hotchner.” Aaron nodded and said, “Please, just call me Aaron. Now let me see if I can wrangle Jack and his friends in here.” The next half hour was spent with cake, singing, and presents. Jack tried very hard to offer _y/n_ some cake, but _y/n_ adeptly replied, “Well, I’d love some, but if I take off my mask, well everyone would know who I am, and you know that can’t happen.” Jack nodded again like he was fully in the know of his favorite superhero’s life and problems. After the presents, _y/n_ took pictures with Jack and anyone else who wanted some, which was almost all of the kids. The two hours went by more quickly than usual and as some guests started to leave the party, wishing Jack the happiest of birthdays, Aaron pulled _y/n_ into the entryway and wrote out a check to _y/n_. He added a nice tip and said, “Jack had had a blast to have Spider-man at his party.” _y/n_ had taken off her mask and gloves again and when Hotch handed her the check she said, “Thanks for asking for me. I had a lot of fun with Jack and his friends today. He’s really lucky to have a dad like you.” Hotch’s cheeks took on a tinge of color at the compliment. Half of the time he felt like he was doing the parenting thing all wrong, so it was nice to come from such an unbiased source. He cleared his throat and said, “Thank you. You really made Jack’s day special.” _y/n_ smiled and said, “Tell him I said happy birthday again, please.” Hotch nodded and _y/n_ moved out the door because if she didn’t, she felt like she could stand there in her costume forever just looking at Aaron.
Outside, _y/n_ felt a wave of disappointment at herself. The sadness wasn’t from the party, perhaps it was leaving a party was where it was coming from. It was so clear that the person being celebrated was loved and cared for. Someone who had a community around them. This job was great, but _y/n_ saw a lot of sad kids and it made her sad too. It didn’t help that working for a knockoff princess company was never on her life goals list. _y/n_ swallowed back emotions she had not been expecting when that soothing warm voice called out behind her. _y/n_ turned around and wiped her eyes before saying, “Hey Aaron, did I forget something in there.” Hotch tipped his head to the side, slightly confused why _y/n_ seemed to almost be in tears. He nodded his head no and said, “No, um, Jack insisted that I bring you out a piece of cake.” He held up a plate covered in plastic wrap. _y/n_ could see the vanilla cake with red and blue frosting beneath the plastic, and _y/n_ gave a small laugh. She looked over at Aaron as she reached for the plate and said, “That was nice of him, and you. Thank you.” _y/n_ turned and put it in the passenger seat of her car, but Hotch continued to stand there.
Finally, Aaron asked, “Are you okay, _y/n_? You seem upset. Has something happened.” _y/n_ didn’t know why, but talking to Hotch felt safe, and she sniffled and said, “Did you ever feel like you took a wrong turn in your life somewhere? Like it’s going in the wrong direction or nowhere at all?” Hotch furrowed his brow at the existential question. He slowly said, “I have. Are you feeling that, _y/n_?” He was concerned for _y/n_ now. She was young and had so much life left to live. Questions like these could weigh heavy on someone. _y/n_ sighed, leaning against her car, replying, “I guess so. I just feel kind of lost. I never saw anything like this in the cards for me.” Aaron nodded and wanted to reassure _y/n_ that life could get better. He said, “I’ve felt that way before. I’ve seen dreams of mine fade away, or realize that my dreams weren’t dreams at all. I’ve felt the same thing with a job. I had to be forgiving of myself. But it got better with time. I promise you things can get better with time, _y/n_.” _y/n_ was crying now and said, “You say that. You’re an actual hero, I heard Emily and Derek talk about the fact that you’re all in the FBI. Look at me, I just play at one. I thought I had my whole life planned out. The job I did before this was nothing like this. I feel embarrassed for being so wrong. So naive.” Hotch moved forward and put a hand on _y/n_’s shoulder like a father might. He looked into _y/n_’s eyes and said, “Listen to me. Today you were a hero to my son. You were his idol and he was so happy to have met you. And so am I. Just because I do a hard job doesn’t make yours any less worthy. Even if it’s just temporary.” _y/n_ wanted to believe him and nodded softly, still sniffling. Hotch moved closer and gave _y/n_ a hug. Something to reassure her. _y/n_ leaned into the embrace and listened to Aaron repeat himself, “It gets better if you can give yourself time.” _y/n_ nodded into his chest which was like a shield against the rest of the world and her own thoughts. _y/n_ pulled away eventually and she said, “Thank you for talking to me, Sorry to pull you away from the party.” Aaron gave her a gentle smile and said, “I think you needed to let some things out. I’m happy to listen. If you’re ever feeling terrible, you could call me. I might not pick up right away, but you can call.” _y/n_ nodded, and suddenly felt like she was part of Aaron and Jack’s community too.
After saying thank you again, _y/n_ got in her car, and Aaron moved back to the house. As _y/n_ drove toward the next party, the fact that her life hadn’t panned out the way she planned suddenly didn’t feel so shameful. Maybe if she tried to give herself time she could figure out what her real passions were and how to take the next step forward. For now, she could be someone’s hero, even for just a few hours. And if she couldn’t, she had one very loving father in her corner. At least there was that.
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#ssa aaron hotchner#aaron hotcher#aaron x y/n#aaron x reader#hotch x y/n#hotch x reader#aaron hotchner x you#reader insert#criminal minds#fanfiction#cm#aaron fluff#aaron comfort#hotch fluff#hotch comfort#hotch drabble#hotch blurb#fem reader x hotch#fem reader#jack hotchner#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds x you#comfort fic#hotch being a dad#emily prentiss#david rossi#Aaron and haley are still friends post breakup#fluff#comfort#spiderman
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Okie-dokes: I'm very late to reporting on Dangerous Romance, episode 3, and listen -- listen. A lot of you know I'm in a compromised life state at the moment, --
(I'M MOVING. HOW. IN THE HELL. DO I OWN. SO MUCH. JUST. FUCKING SHIT. HOW DID I FIT SO MUCH SHIT INTO THIS PLACE THAT I AM LEAVING. OH MY GODDAMN WHAT THE FUCK. LET ME BECOME A MONK AND GIVE UP ALL THIS CRAP.)
-- yes, compromised life state, lol, and can't give too much thought to good meta at the moment. (I had to pause Not Me for the Old GMMTV Challenge because even just three episodes in, I knew it was SO GOOD that it deserves my undivided attention.)
So, yeah, brain is out of service at the moment, and then we have THIS episode of Dangerous Romance, and let me just note: y'all, Dangerous Romance was trending on Tumblr even through Only Friends Saturday last weekend (with Only Friends NOT trending, mind you). DR is clearly serving something (.....sigh, ships) that OF is not giving the fandom girlies, and man, did DR just lay it on THICK this week, huh?
I will admit. I'm a touch bummed. I LOVE PERTH AND CHIMON. I LOOOOOVVVVE THEM, YER HONORESSES! UNABASHEDLY. Yes, I love their faces. I DO, NO SHAME. I love their acting, too! I love them, like ::waves hands in circles:: all of it, all of them. I was hoping they'd chomp into a meatier show.
This is not that show. The puppy music, the reeeeeally fast swings into sympathy and "oh, you're my tutor now, bro, and I will spill all my feelings to you," IN ENGLISH AND KOREAN -- and just a touch of a class division conversation by way of Kang homey buying Sailom homey an extra dinner to-go. Sailom is now Kang's... confidante? Kang wants to make someone, anyone, proud, and it looks like Sailom is the guy.
I mean, this episode was all over the place, but....
Forgive me, meta angels, because this is EXACTLY what I need right now, omg. I'm mentally done, I'm toast! Not to say that I'm not going to enjoy Only Friends tomorrow! I am going to totally eat OF up.
But I will ROBUSTLY ADMIT to ALSO being okay with PerthChimon fan service at the moment. Unfortunately for any of my hopes of them being in a more dramatically complicated series: they still have hilarious chemistry. They're actual real bros in real life (Papang smh lol). They're clearly having fun doing this together, like OhmPerth in Double Savage. Chimon's facial expressions are outta control (that look on his face when Perth/Kang accelerated the bike? I cackled).
This is fluff! As @lurkingshan noted -- a recalibration of expectations is in order for this show. I'm taking this show right now as 100% fan service from my PerthChimon wub woobies. Perth and Chimon (and really, the co-director of this show, Lit Phadung of SOTUS and SOTUS S) -- these dudes know the score. Perth and Chimon have been around for a minute. You need two dudes to dial up to 10 on fluff BL? They have those tropes so memorized that it's burned in their bones. Put 'em in coach, they're ready to play.
If I take this show on THAT tip, then -- as an aiming-to-be-classic romance BL, then it's doing something.... if not right, then at least aligned to some tropes simply by mood. I'm curious about Sailom's flashbacks to Kang's bullying, but I don't have the strength or mindpower to read into it. If a reference back to the bullying comes -- or not -- then, whatever. This show is clearly, at the moment, trying to achieve a more simple goal than I expected of it, but I'm not gonna write it off. I'll thoroughly enjoy Perth and Chimon being poodles to each other -- gimme.
I was wondering to @lurkingshan and @neuroticbookworm earlier today that I had previously wondered WHY GMMTV would air Dangerous Romance during the Only Friends run, especially with ALL the marketing hype around Only Friends before it premiered. At the time, it seemed to me to be a pre-emptive gong strike on Dangerous Romance. Now it makes me wonder -- did GMMTV want to cover its bases by placing a classic fluff BL on air, to protect the network from losing fandom points through Only Friends? I can only wonder. If some ships are exploding through OF -- then the network can hand PerthChimon over and say, hey, we haven't forgotten our shipping roots, girlies.
Kinda makes me think. In any case -- Shan is right. I'm recalibrated on Dangerous Romance, I'm watching this literally to see PerthChimon ham it up, annnnnddd yeah, that's about it! At this point, give me the make-out sessions, give me pool time, gimme. I unabashedly stan and simp. If we get some real drama out of this show -- it will be a wonderful surprise. I just hope the show doesn't veer into totally unwatchable territory.
#dangerous romance#dangerous romance the series#dangerous romance meta#perthchimon#kang x sailom#sailon x kang#perth tanapon#chimon wachirawit#i'm on my 100th rewatch of until we meet again at the moment and really loving the little perth bits too#so perth and chimon are my stress woobies huh#i wouldn't have called that#but life throws you curves i guess#i want a PURE comedy BL from thailand#just pure straight comedy#if they turned this show into comedy with perthchimon as leads i think it'd be golden
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Stained Glass Windows - Chapter Twenty Four
Life was complicated, but they wouldn't have it any other way.
-x-
Hi friends!!
As always, thank you so much for the love on this fic! This chapter is heavy, as is this weekend's chapter of Home...so I promise there is fluff coming this weekend too <3
Please let me know what you think, I'm particularly anxious about this one as it's a chapter that has been in the works for quite some time.
-x-
Words: 3.3k
A full list of warnings for the fic can be found on the Series Master List and will be updated as we go along. Please note that more warnings have been added.
Read over on Ao3, or below the cut
April 1996
She can’t sit still. Nervous energy thrumming through her veins, making her skin itchy. Her leg bounces up and down subconsciously as she stares straight ahead, her eyes fixed on the door to the doctor's office.
She couldn’t explain how she felt if she tried. She was sad that her mother was sick. Angry that it was down to her own actions. But mostly Emily was afraid that she was the only real option her mother had left.
“Miss Prentiss?”
She looks up from the floor and smiles politely at her mother’s doctor, her doctor now too, and she stands, “Call me Emily, please,” she replies tightly, “Miss Prentiss always makes me feel like I’m in trouble.”
“Of course,” he replies, leading her into his office and indicating towards a seat for her to sit down before he sits at his desk. “I’ve looked over your results Miss Prentiss,” he says, smiling when she raises an eyebrow at him, “Sorry, Emily, I looked at your results and you are a good match to be a donor for your mother.”
It’s somehow what she wanted to hear and what she didn’t want to hear at the same time. The resolution she had hoped for and also feared. It made her feel guilty, but part of her had wanted the test to come back negative. Vague and awful hope that there would feasibly be nothing she could do to help, that her focus could be on the job offer she had received, the letter from Agent Easter folded up and next to her appointment letter for today.
“What…what happens next?” She asks, even though she already knows the answer.
The doctor smiles kindly, “Well if you choose to donate part of your liver to her we’ll get you both listed for surgery. The best thing for your mother is to get this done as soon as we can.”
Emily nods, blowing out a breath before she bites the inside of her cheek, the slight pain enough to distract her from the tears she won’t shed until she’s back in her car.
“And if I choose…”
“If you choose not to,” he says, mercifully finishing her sentence for her so she doesn’t have to, “Then there will be a long wait for your mother. Given her history of alcohol abuse, she won’t be prioritised by the hospital's organ donation board.”
Emily clears her throat, a sound chased by a bitter laugh, “Well, in that case, it’s not much of a choice is it?”
“It’s your body, Emily,” the doctor says, unknowingly repeating words Matthew had said to her a decade ago in completely different circumstances. The comparison that the memory creates makes her wince, and she feels her chest tighten, “It’s your choice.”
“The choice is between helping my mother live and leaving her to the mercy of a group of people who will judge her purely based on what it says in her files,” she half-heartedly shrugs, “It’s not a choice,” she wipes a stray tear from her cheek, “Book the surgery,” she says, looking back up at the doctor from her lap, “Let’s get this done.”
When she gets home she throws away the letter from Interpol, knowing from her conversations with Agent Easter that this was a now-or-never opportunity. She pours herself a glass of wine before she stares at it. She feels anger pool in her gut, and she yells out, knocking the bottle and full glass off the counter.
She sinks to the ground, careful to avoid the shards of glass on the floor, and cries as she buries her face in her hands. Grieving for the things she has lost, for the opportunities she is passing up. For the relationship with her mother that deep down she knows literally giving up a piece of herself won’t fix.
The phone in her apartment rings but she can’t move to get it, her body heavy as she sits on the floor and cries. It rings out and the voicemail clicks in and she sits and listens as the message is recorded.
“Emily, my doctor called and told me the good news,” Elizabeth says, sounding more hopeful than she had in weeks, “I’ll speak to you tomorrow, and we can figure out the logistics. I promise this is the end of it, I’ll never…this is the end. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
It isn’t lost on Emily as the message comes to an end that her mother hasn’t said thank you. She chokes on a sound halfway between a laugh and a sob and hopes that somehow, someday, this will lead her to something good.
___
Her breath catches in her throat as she watches Dave walk away, his words hanging heavily in the air around her in the still mostly empty bullpen.
“The last time I saw someone knocking wine back like that I was in a bar with you.”
Her mother was drinking again.
Suddenly everything makes sense. The cancelled plans. Her mother’s evasiveness. The lack of over-the-top questions about the wedding and the baby, things that Emily had expected she’d have to battle with whenever she pictured doing these things. Her mother had been pulling away for weeks, for months if Emily was honest with herself, and it was because she was hiding from the one person who would be able to see what was going on. So achingly familiar with the signs, with the glazed look in her mother’s eyes, the way the smell of liquor would cling to her skin, that she would instantly realise that she had broken a promise from over a decade ago.
Her mother was drinking again.
The L-shaped scar on her abdomen burns as if it’s fresh, not almost 13 years old. Her skin feels as if it could tear open, ripping apart where she’d been sewn back together all those years ago. It’s all-consuming, her cheeks burning with it as she stands abruptly, the usual pregnancy-related nausea she’d feel at such a sharp movement nowhere to be found.
She stands so quickly her chair rocks her desk and her tea spills out of her mug, but she doesn’t pay it any attention. She’s grateful no one else is at their desks yet, that no one is around to ask if she’s ok because she doesn’t know how she’d answer.
Her mother was drinking again.
She finds herself standing in Aaron’s office doorway before she realises what she’s doing, her body taking her towards him almost on autopilot. As if even subconsciously she knew he was what she needed. She knocks on the door absentmindedly, her brain still trying to catch up with the way Dave had unknowingly scattered her life into countless pieces around her.
Aaron looks up from his desk, his smile fading as his eyes meet hers. To anyone else, he’s sure she’d look ok, tired at most, something that could easily be attributed to her pregnancy, but he sees beyond that.
He can see past the defences she built when she was young, the strong foundations she forged before she truly understood what the building blocks her mother had handed her were for.
Her shoulders are tight, and she’s grasping her engagement ring between her fingers, twisting it back and forth. Her eyes are ever so slightly dazed over, a sure sign she’s trying to regulate her emotions, that she’s pushing whatever she’s feeling deep down inside her chest.
“Em,” he stands up, walking over to her his hand ghosting over her lower back to guide her further into his office, just enough that he can pull his door closed to give them as much privacy as he could, well aware that it would be his only chance at getting the truth out of her here, “What’s wrong?”
“I…” she drifts off, looking up at him, her voice catching in her chest. She doesn’t know how to say it, how to put it into words. A naive part of her believes saying it would make it true. “I don’t-”
She’s interrupted as there’s a knock on the door a second before it opens, JJ steps into the room, “I’m sorry to interrupt, but we have a case, it’s…urgent.” She starts to drift off as she notices the atmosphere in the room, and how closely they are standing to each other. The concern deeply etched into Aaron’s face. “I’m sorry, did I-”
“JJ, we’re in the middle of something.”
“No, it’s ok, it can wait.”
They all speak at once, their sentences overlapping, and Aaron looks at his fiancee, watching as any signs that something is wrong disappears. Her walls fly up all at once, a smile on her face as she looks at JJ.
“How urgent?” She asks, her voice normal even though it feels like her heart is in a vice.
JJ looks back and forth between the two of them again, her eyes lingering on Emily before she replies, “Florida.”
Emily chuckles politely, “Well, we’d better get going.”
JJ leaves the room first, and the second they are alone again Aaron grabs Emily’s wrist. She sighs and turns to look at him, her jaw tight as she swallows thickly.
“Em, what's wrong are you ok? Is the baby ok?”
She sighs, cursing herself for not even considering that would be where his mind would go, and she nods, placing her hand over his on her arm, “We’re both ok. It can wait.”
“Em-”
“You heard JJ,” she says, hoping her smile is somewhat reassuring, “It’s urgent.” She wants nothing more than to be comforted by him, than to unload the weight that had just been put back on her shoulders, but she knows this isn’t the time. That work had to take precedence and she had to be the one to enforce that, knowing that Aaron would put her first every time. “Please.”
Aaron looks like he wants to argue, but both of them are broken free of their little bubble when Derek calls for them from the main bullpen, an impatient look on his face. Aaron sighs and nods, squeezing her arm as he looks back at her, “Later?”
She swallows thickly, forcing back tears she knows she can’t shed because he absolutely would never let it go if she started crying.
“Later.”
___
He keeps close to her all day. He assigns himself to stay in the precinct with her, and when she doesn’t argue, doesn’t even so much as roll her eyes, his concern only deepens. She’s quieter than usual, withdrawn into herself, and occasionally he catches her biting her cuticles as she stared off into the distance.
By the time they get back to their hotel room, it’s late and she asks if she can shower first. He lets her go without comment and sheds his tie and jacket before he sits down on the bed and rolls up his sleeves. The Florida heat was oppressive even at this time of year and he knows Emily will want the air conditioning dialled all the way up so she could still sleep against him.
When she walks out of the bathroom the air that follows her is cool, and she’s wearing a sports bra and a pair of sleep shorts, “It’s too hot for me to wear anything other than this,” she complains, smiling at him when he looks up, “And it’s your kid's fault,” she says rubbing her hand over her bump as she gripes about another symptom of pregnancy “So you’re going to have to deal with it.”
He smiles at her and pulls her close his hands on her hips, pressing a kiss to her belly, which was all the more obvious in her outfit, “I’m sure I can manage you being practically naked just this once,” he quips and she rolls her eyes before she sits next to him on the bed.
“Florida is bad at the best of times,” she says, resting her head on his shoulder, “Let alone when you’re pregnant. And I’m still relatively early on.”
Despite his worry for her, his need to know what had clearly shaken her that morning, he laughs, and kisses her forehead, “How about when you’re further along I try and make sure we go on a case somewhere cooler?”
She smiles at the offer, his attempt to cheer her up, and she chuckles, “Alaska?”
He nods and kisses her forehead again before he rests his chin on top of her head, “Sure, sweetheart. Alaska.” They fall into silence and she feels him hold her tighter, his embrace comforting despite the oppressive heat. “Are you ready to talk about it?”
She sighs as everything she has tried to avoid all day comes rushing back, pain and fear and sadness she can no longer avoid clawing up her through, all battling to be the thing she felt the most.
“Yes,” she chokes out, “But once I do it…it becomes something. And I don’t know what to do.”
“Whatever it is, sweetheart,” he says, pulling away to look at her, “I’ll be right here.”
She smiles tightly at him and nods, “Dave said that he saw my mother yesterday at some fundraiser,” she closes her eyes and blows out a steady breath, “And he told me that he saw her drinking,” her voice shakes and she laughs bitterly as she watches the shock set in on Aaron’s face, “Actually, what he said was that he could see where I get my ability to drink from because she was drinking wine like I do.”
Aaron feels his shock briefly turn into anger, irrational irritation at their friend who didn’t know any better, “I’ll ki-”
“Honey,” she says, reaching for one of his hands to link their fingers together, “He doesn’t know, no one does. He was just doing what he’s always done - he was trying to wind me up.”
He nods, taking a deep breath as he tries to rid himself of his anger towards Dave and Elizabeth. Emily didn’t need anger from him, not right now, she needed his love and his support. He knew that Elizabeth’s sobriety was the very thing her and Emily’s relationship was pinned on. Delicately held together by a promise, what Emily had done for her mother, and the things they never spoke about. She’d told him once that her mother had never directly thanked her for what she’d done.
He knew it was more about the opportunity she’d lost out on than the surgery itself. The loss of what she’d seen as her escape from the life she hated. That’s what the scar on her abdomen represented to her. Not the physical part of herself she gave her mother but the job she had given up.
“Could he have been wrong?” He asks, tucking some other damp hair behind her ear and she shakes her head, a sigh that catches on all of her ribs as it forces its way out.
“No,” she replies, looking up at the ceiling as her eyes burn, a failed attempt to stop tears that fall past her lashline anyway, “No it makes sense. She’s been cancelling on us, she’s being evasive. She hasn’t asked any annoying questions about the wedding in weeks. And she hasn’t said a thing about the baby since we told her,” she places her hand on her stomach as she mentions it, her thumb rubbing just below her belly button, “No phone calls insisting we enrol them at some private pre-school or set up a trust fund. Nothing. She’s…”
“Avoiding the one person who would figure it out,” he finishes for her. He was well aware of the patterns himself having grown up as the child of an alcohol too. He berates himself for not putting it together sooner, for not being able to save her from the pain she was currently feeling.
“Yeah,” she replies, her chin trembling, “And now I don’t know what to do,” she wipes her cheeks fiercely, getting rid of tears that are immediately replaced, “Can you tell me what to do? Because I’ve been thinking about it all day. And it’s not just me to consider anymore. So I need you to tell me what to do, Aaron.”
He feels his heart shatter for her, for the way she is all but begging for help that with anyone else, she’d refuse entirely. He can’t help but picture her at 25, realising her mother’s life and health relied on her making a decision she never should have had to make. It makes his anger come back, fury directed at Elizabeth for not being able to see what she has done, despite the fact he knows it is not that simple.
“I can’t tell you what to do, baby,” he says, cupping her face in his hands and pressing his forehead against hers, “But I’ll help you figure it out, and I’ll be there every step of the way. You don’t have to do it alone this time, Em.”
In the end, that’s what breaks her. His unwavering love and support that she’s so used to now she can’t remember how it felt to live without it. The sob that escapes hurts, cracking every rib as it forces itself out, her hand failing to capture it as she covers her mouth, her cheeks already wet with tears. Aaron pulls her into him, and she curls up in his lap, her head against his chest as she lets years of suppressed emotion out.
“I’ve got you,” he says, kissing the top of her head, adjusting his hold on her to pull her even closer, “I’ve got you.”
“I’m going to have a baby, Aaron,” she sobs, her words muffled against his chest, “And I know it’s not…our relationship has never been…” she heaves in a breath, his shirt wet against his skin, and she pulls back to look at him, “She was never going to be someone who gave me advice or held my hand or whatever the fuck it is a mom is supposed to do when her kid is having a kid but…she’s still my mom.”
She sounds so wrought, so devastated, that he wants to take her home. To just leave now and call the others in the morning and give an excuse for their absence, but he knows she wouldn’t want that. That by morning, with everyone other than him she’d pretend everything was ok.
“I know she is,” he says, resting his forehead against hers, “We’ll figure it out. I’ll be right here.”
“I can’t do it again, I won’t expose you, or Jack or…” she presses her hand harder into her stomach, and she shakes her head, “I won’t do it.”
He pulls back to look at her, “We don’t have to make any decisions tonight. ” He says, waiting for her to nod in response, “We’ll get through this case and then get home and figure out what we’re going to do, ok?”
“Ok,” she croaks out, her voice thick with tears, “Ok I can do that.”
Aaron smiles encouragingly at her and stamps a kiss against her lips, “I love you. And I’m not going anywhere.”
She nods, her tears renewed by the reassurance she hadn’t even known she’d needed, by the way she knows he’s telling the truth, and she rests her head against his chest again.
“I love you too.”
She wasn’t alone this time and that had to count for something.
-x-
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work wives: “Do you ever regret this, what we have?”
Listen… I audibly gasped reading that sentence and based on that gasp, this was created by my silly little brain while listening to this song. Also, I’m sorry it took me 3 business days to write this 😅
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
Melissa huffs and kicks at the air at her last futile attempt at getting some sleep.
A single question running wild through her head as her mind replays the conversation she and Barbara had on the car as they made their way to Philly from New Jersey.
Do you ever regret this, what we have?
It was always like this when Barbara wanted to run away from her marriage or when Gerald was out of town. They would go some place where no one could recognize them -where no one could recognize Barbara- and act like the most perfect couple.
Melissa loved part of it; She loved to hold Barbara's hand without the fear of the older woman recoiling at the gesture, she loved to be asked how long they've been together and just say over a decade because it was the truth, this thing they had had started over a decade ago, Melissa loved how Barbara was with her in their blissful weekends of play pretend. But she specially loved that Barbara would tell her a million "I love you's" in public, not like the whispered ones she was used to when they were between the 4 walls of her room, late at night after a few too many glasses of wine and the excuse of how Barbara needed to stay at Melissa's house and not to worry because the guest room was set up for her.
Kicking the comforter off she decides to just leave the bed and sit by the balcony on her window. Her traitorous mind replaying the conversation that she’s trying to erase from her memory like a movie for her to dissect and criticize.
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
The car was parked outside Barbara's house, they had been sitting inside for almost 10 minutes now, letting the real world sink in: Their play pretend time was over.
Melissa refused to look at her lover as she gripped the wheel, afraid that if she looked at Barb leaving her car and entering her house as her husband greeted her, the memories of the weekend would fade away with her.
"Melissa" Barbara said softly, trying to gain the stubborn woman's attention.
Silence.
"My darling girl” she tried again, this time with the term of endearment she knew Melissa loved the most “Please look at me”
And Melissa fell for the trap as her head moved in her direction.
"Do you ever regret this?" She gestured between them "What we have?" Barbara asked, meeting her eyes and holding her gaze the whole time, her eyes searching for any indication of Melissa's feelings.
Melissa gave her best fake smile while shaking her head 'no' before speaking the lie she no longer believed herself, the one that used to be her best lie when Barbara questioned if things were okay between them.
"I don't regret what we have Barb" she responded looking down to grab Barbara's hand and lacing their fingers "You're my best friend and I love you" she found Barbara's eyes to convey that her words were true -well, they were actually far from it but Barbara didn't need to know that- "This thing that we have is good enough for me" she nodded.
And somehow that was enough for Barbara. That was always good enough of a response for Barbara. Grabbing her bag from the backseat of Melissa’s car she gave her a quick kiss before getting out and entering her house.
Melissa let out a sigh and started her drive to her own house, praying for the kaleidoscope of memories flashing through her mind to never end.
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
She chuckled bitterly as she recalled the lies she told Barb.
Melissa hated that after so many years, this had started to bother her. The timing wasn’t great but if she was true to herself, she wanted so much more from Barbara.
And in lieu of being true to herself, she knew that Barbara would not give her what she wanted.
So with a shake of her head to clear her thoughts and a few she’d tears being wiped off she went back to bed and reminded herself that being Barbara’s best friend was enough, being her lover was enough, that when they went away on the weekends and could act like a real couple was enough.
#work wives#my writing#melissa x barbara#barbara howard#barlissa#melissa schemmenti#I’m not the best at angst but this would not leave me tf alone#writing prompt
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