#i prefer to dance around it being that because it makes me feel incredibly awkward because don't fit in

[thornheartfelt]

I can feel myself slowly being dragged into the Pup Zone like "nOOOOOO!! But also yeah I want hug from vampire dad and I want to colour and play games and–"

[cookiesuga55]

(Jikook) Weight Training

Personal trainer Jimin and soft Jungkook. Some mutual friends set them up on a blind date. Jimin's friend Hoseok knows how much Jimin loves bigger, softer guys, and Jungkook's college friends think that dating a fitness dance junkie will help him tone his chubby belly.

Jimin is gorgeous and fit and sinful with his thick pouty lips. It honestly makes Jungkook kind of nervous, because this guy is way out of his league. He's more into a snuggle-on-the-couch kind of Saturday, not a 9-hour-dance-session kind of Saturday.

Even so, he really likes Jimin. He's so sweet and caring, kind, and makes butterflies flap around in Jungkook's ample tummy. As their date is coming to a close, Jimin proposes that Jungkook come dance with him at the studio- for free of course. As a date. Because second dates are meant to watch an incredibly chubby cutie struggle with exercise... right? Jimin convinces himself this is completely normal and not at all weird.

Jungkook isn't sure if his friends told Jimin that he's wanting to get fit and toned... and he really needs to clear that up, so he isn't lying to Jimin. He doesn't want Jimin to be dating him for the potentially skinny guy inside of him, working to cut Jungkook down into that version of himself. He needs to be straight-up with him if they're going to have any possibility of a future. Jungkook blushes and confesses, knowing that he needs to be honest, even if he's embarrassed. "I appreciate it but... I- I don't want to lose the weight. I like- um- growing."

Jimin practically salivates at Jungkook admitting that he wants to get fatter. Before Jungkook even knows what's going on, Jimin is blushing hard, now adorably stuttering, and insisting that their second date can be something more chill, like a movie and pizza. Lots of pizza. And ice cream.

Jungkook is confused because that doesn't sound like rejection. But seriously, a relaxing date like that with Jimin sounds amazing, and he's nodding and agreeing to next Friday at 7 pm before being pulled in for a hug from the lythe dancer. He notices how Jimin's arms linger around him for much longer than what's probably necessary for an ending of a first date. His tummy squishes against Jimin's firm, toned middle, and for some reason, it makes his cheeks heat up at how much bigger he is than the other boy. Jimin is typing his number into Jungkook's phone before he can really register what's just happened, and then he's getting a kiss on the cheek and a squeeze to his waist. Jimin's cheeks are cutely red and his eyes are sparkling.

Jungkook gets hit with the realization that he just told Jimin that he likes getting fatter and, in response, the other boy practically just proposed to stuff him on his couch as a date. Jungkook's own cheeks heat up and he stares at Jimin, before testing cautiously, "Does that mean um- is you feeding me out of the question?"

Jimin's ears turn pink but he shakes his head no. He watches him swallow and realizes that Jimin's hands are still placed on his waist, his thumbs rubbing back and forth over his plush love handles. "I'm comfortable with whatever you're comfortable with, Jungkook-ah. I'd love to feed you if- if you want."

Jungkook grins. This is way too good to be true. No one has ever liked the fact that he loves gaining before. He returns the touch over Jimin's own waist and gives a squeeze, still grinning as Jimin's nose turns as red as his cheeks and ears. "So tiny," he mumbles and gives Jimin's waist another little squeeze. The older boy squirms with pleasure at their sizes being compared.

JK continues, unable to keep the smile off of his face. "Yes, hyung," he now feels desirable, not awkward and fumbling like earlier, "I'd love for you to feed me. A lot, preferably." Jimin's entire seductive countenance trembles as his knees wobble. Jungkook could laugh out loud with delight if he wasn't so focused on absorbing every moment that Jimin gives him. Jungkook keeps him upright with his chubby hands firmly supporting the dancer's thin waist, and he watches as Jimin struggles to keep his cool. After Jimin has pieced himself back together and no longer threatens to topple, Jungkook lets him go and gives a cheeky wink and wave of his fingers. Jimin looks like he was just handed all of his secret desires on a silver platter, and Jungkook can't help but feel the same tingling heat deep in his belly.

He can't wait for the second date with Jimin and wonders how many pizzas he'll be able to eat. If it will be as many as last time when he stuffed himself alone, or if Jimin will help him find more room, and encourage him to keep going. His insides prickle with excitement as he watches Jimin get safely into a cab.

Jungkook can already see the numbers on his scale jumping up, and he can't contain his smile.

[kemifatoba]

Document Journal | Notting Hill Carnival is a haven for Black joy in the UK

The famous Caribbean street party attracts visitors from all over, providing a weekend-long respite from the reality of being Black in Europe

“I hate Carnival. It gives men an excuse to behave badly,” said the waitress serving us drinks. It was Sunday evening, and the streets were full of people who had been celebrating slowly making their way home. After I told her that I flew in from Berlin for the occasion, she looked at me and my friend, smiled politely, and wished us lots of fun. She had a valid point: At Carnival, the social contract we all live by seems to be thrown out the window. Fully-grown men openly gawk at teenage girls and, seconds later, relieve themselves in the street; elbows fly carelessly in the crowd, and non-consensual wining can leave a bad taste in your mouth; the crowd dynamics that flip from cheerful to hostile within seconds can be overwhelming. But Carnival is also where we see Black joy, Black bodies in all shapes and forms, gorgeous Black hairstyles, carefree Black children, and Black love. And while it welcomes everyone, Carnival is unapologetically Black—and that’s exactly why I love it.

Until its forced two-year hiatus during the pandemic, Europe’s biggest street party attracted over two million visitors each year. Since 1966, people from all over the UK have traveled to Notting Hill to celebrate Black Caribbean culture during the last weekend of August. A lot has happened since 2019: We lived through lockdowns and mental health crises; Brexit “got done”; Black Lives Matter briefly became a trending topic globally; the war in Ukraine broke out; inflation ensued; and the cost of living crisis still looms. Collective moments of joy and escapism have become incredibly rare and precious, which made this year’s Carnival so special.

Carnival polarizes. To some, it represents everything that’s great about London: the blending of cultures, races, and nationalities. Others campaign for it to end, spinning a false narrative that equates Black communities with crime and violence—so far, without success. (But if we’ve learned one thing in the last two years, it’s to never take anything for granted.) There are, of course, also those who feel indifferent about Carnival, or prefer going to events that feel more inclusive, like Black Pride, which is celebrated in mid-August. For me—and other friends who also traveled to London from abroad—Carnival is not just a celebration of Caribbean culture, but also a much-needed respite from the exhausting reality of being Black in Europe.

While some Brits are convinced that the UK is “bad vibes,” many Black and Brown Europeans argue that the vibe in their countries is far worse. Granted, our governments hate regular, working-class people less than the British one does, but when it comes to conversations about race and the treatment of our BIPOC communities, we are decades behind. Unlike the UK, other parts of Europe get away with the atrocities on the African continent under colonial rule, because they are overshadowed by other atrocities, such as World War I, World War II, and European fascist movements. As such, the European approach to dealing with its colonial past and the ongoing dehumanization of people of African descent is a mixture of amnesia, erasure, and an awkward dance around conversations about race. So awkward, in fact, that Black Europeans like myself feel the need to travel abroad to experience Black joy.

That’s also why the importance of Carnival is felt far beyond the UK’s borders. Being able to soak up the energy, dance, and get lost in a sea of people who look like you—and make you feel like you belong—is priceless. Having a good time without being told that we are too loud, too much, too Black is something I don’t take for granted. I also can’t help but appreciate the hustle during Carnival, which reached a new high when I was offered a quiet spot to sit down and eat my jerk chicken for the bargain price of £5.

As day two came to an end, I stood at the corner of Westbourne Grove and Chepstow Road and watched the last truck turn around the corner. The sun fought its way through the clouds and hit the smiling faces of people of all races, ethnicities, cultures, and ages who danced alongside it. Some were off-duty dancers in sparkly, feathered costumes, others waved Caribbean flags, and everyone sang in unison when the DJ played Burna Boy’s “Last Last.” It was the perfect ending to a celebration we’ve all been waiting for, and it captured everything that’s great about Carnival—and, by extension, London.

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[ppersonna]

out of my league - knj | 01

you were out of my league. got my heartbeat racing. if i die, don't wake me, cause you are more than just a dream - out of my league, fitz and the tantrums

✹ summary- Kim Namjoon was never supposed to find out about your years-long hopeless crush on him. And he most definitely was not supposed to find out about it in front of all your coworkers in a company-wide meeting.

✹ rating- explicit/18+/nsfw

✹ pairing- kim namjoon x reader

✹ word count- 6.6k

✹ genre- angst, smut, comedy

✹ chapter warnings- swearing, descriptions of sex, sexual content, namjoon being a sexy flirt, jungkook being a himbo, awkward conversations, jimin being a protective bff

✹ a/n- hello and welcome to this fic thats lived in my google docs for almost a year now. without @ladyartemesia @xjoonchildx @untaemedqueen and @chimoona, i would never have posted it. i truly owe so much of my brainstorming and creativity to their incredible brains and thoughts and ideas. i love them very much! i hope you enjoy this first chapter! please feel free to message me, talk to me abt anything!! im always here to chat. ILY!

MASTERLIST

Kim Namjoon was never supposed to find out this way.

You planned to confess your undying, unerring love for your coworker at a better time, a classier place. You would wear a dress that highlighted your features, hair cascading down your back, makeup done to perfection and spritzed with expensive perfume. You’d confess, he’d confess right back, and you’d live happily ever after.

You’d also dreamt that Kim Namjoon would have the slightest inkling of who you are before he finds out about your year long crush. He might know you as the mousy girl in the office who doesn’t talk and doesn’t contribute much other than some crunched numbers and apparently the best coffee brewer in the office. But you’d prefer he knows you well—your favorite colors and movies and foods, what makes you happy and sad; things future husbands should know.

You very much did not think it would happen in a company wide conference, full of over five hundred suit-wearing executives. You did not think it would be done by the office bully, Chungha, who carefully takes over the mic and speaks the words clearly as she presents awards of recognition.

“Congratulations to Kim Namjoon for 5 years with the company, over $4 million in revenue, and the object of ____’s lust and affection. I’m sure you two will have the happy life she’s written in her journal about. Make sure you celebrate with her today!”

The room is silent, so silent you could have heard a pin drop from a mile away. Your face is cherry red and you wish the earth would open up and swallow you whole. Your heart feels like someone has ripped it in half and you stare in horror at the girl smirking at the front. Is this what it feels like to be backstabbed? Namjoon looks perplexed—confusion written on his face as he gestures around to no one in particular like he’s saying ‘what the fuck was that?’

Awkward coughing and clapping begins and Namjoon stands to receive his award, a fine wooden fountain pen, and chances a glance around the room. He easily spots you, with your wide, frightened face. His look remains passive, not hinting what he’s thinking behind those stormy eyes, before he turns and sits back down at the table with his buddies from his department.

You seriously contemplate quitting your job. You could find a new one easily, right? Just stand up and tell your boss you quit and you’re out of there before Namjoon ever sees you again and you’ll never have to face the mean girl who’s ratting you out.

As much as the idea rolls through your head, you know you won’t do it. You love your job, love the security and finances it provides you, and you love to look at Kim Namjoon, all day every day.

You don’t understand where things went wrong.

( one month ago )

It’s 9:03 am. You finish brewing the coffee in the small staff kitchen and sigh at the aroma of the freshly ground beans. Coffee is your favorite meal, favorite time of day, favorite snack, and preferred beverage. You drink it constantly. You’re known as “coffee girl” at work, mostly because no one really bothers to get to know you beyond that. You drink coffee like it’s a devoted religion. You could drink a cup right before bed and still sleep like a baby. It was, put simply, your drink.

The office workers deem you to be the one to make the pots of coffee every morning, claiming you were the ‘best’. You didn’t mind—you preferred to make your own coffee regardless—but you believe your coworkers are trying to pass off the twenty-minute job to someone lower in the office hierarchy. And you were one step above the interns.

The coffee machine chimes to let you know it’s hot, and it’s ready for you. You eagerly pour a mug, a large one, and smile as the waft of freshly ground beans (by you, of course) fills your senses.

You nearly knock the cup out of your hand as Kim Namjoon strolls into the office, eyes set on the coffee.

You feel your throat swell up, like he’s an allergen and you’re caught without an epi-pen. Butterflies swirl in your stomach and you can’t stop staring at him. He pays you no mind, tired yet determined to pour a cup of coffee and get back to his office.

You stand in the small kitchen, clutching your coffee like a lifeline, and pray to god you don’t do something stupid.

Namjoon pours his mug, and you watch his muscular hands grip the coffee pot. He pours a hefty amount of cream and sugar into his cup—it appears even perfect male specimens have their faults. 

Your eyes dance on his face before they tango down his body. You wonder what he looks like in the morning, crawling out of bed with mussed hair and a sleepy smile painted on his face. He’d look at you and tell you you’re the most beautiful girl and kiss you deeply despite morning breath. Maybe he’d take you to the shower to press you against the tile as he fuc-

“Oh!” it startles Namjoon to see you, and the coffee in his hand swishes violently. “Didn’t see you there. Sorry!”

Your heart melts. He’s the picture of kindness and politeness. You recognize it’s been a few seconds and you still haven’t replied.

“It’s fine!”

“Great coffee, by the way,” he smiles. His teeth nearly knock you out cold with their brilliance. “Have a good day.”

He turns and exits the room without so much as a glance back at you. Your knees feel weak.

Kim Namjoon talked to you. He complimented you. He told you to have a good day. It’s the best and most significant conversation you’ve had with your secret crush.

You definitely file that away for another day when you need to reminisce on his compliment, and you scurry out of the kitchen towards your desk.

Park Jimin is waiting dutifully at your desk when you arrive, a smug smile still slapped over your features as you sip at your coffee. Namjoon spoke to you today—how lovely.

Jimin quirks an eyebrow. 

“What’s got you so perky this morning?” 

You’re normally quiet and passive, avoiding eye contact or any semblance of emotion on your face.

You look up at the blonde bespectacled boy. Park Jimin is the closest thing to a best friend in the company. He’s who you spend time with at lunch, see on weekends, and text often. You suppose he’s the closest thing to a best friend you have in your entire life.

You send him a smirk and lean in close to whisper. “Namjoon said hi to me today!”

Jimin sends you a pitiful look and pats your shoulder. Your best friend is well aware of your secret crush and while he thinks Namjoon is a nice guy, he thinks your crush is a little hopeless. He’s the most popular guy in the office, often has dates lined up every weekend. Jimin hears the way he and his friends talk in the break room. The man is definitely not hurting for female attention.

“Oh, honey,” he sighs, unenthusiastically. “That’s great.” He can’t help but feel a twinge of sadness over how excited you’re getting from a simple ‘hello’ from a coworker.

“I know, right? Anyway, lunch today?” You ask as you settle down into your cubicle.

Jimin pushes his glasses up his face and nods. “Of course! That’s why I came by this morning. I wanted to let you know that Jungkook from marketing will join us.”

You make a face, disgust etched in the lines creasing your forehead. 

“Why?”

Jungkook is well known in the company. He’s a loudmouth, a player, a clown, and everyone’s favorite comedian. He’s just not your favorite.

“Don’t be rude,” Jimin admonishes at your grimace. “He asked to join and well—he’s cute. I can’t say no to him.”

“Oh Christ, Jimin,” you groan. “Not you too! Don’t tell me you have the hots for the serial fuckboy?”

He blushes lightly and shrugs. “Maybe I do! Be nice to him today or I’ll eat all your chocolate ice cream I know you have at home.”

You stick your tongue out, petulantly. “Fine, now let me get to work or else Seokjin will be up my ass.”

Jimin smiles and kisses your cheek before he scurries away, back to human resources.

It feels as if barely any time has passed. You’re working hard, running calculations and updating spreadsheets. You have an eye for numbers, and losing yourself in an equation is just another day for you. You’re shaken from your cheerful place by a vibration from your phone, and a text alert popping on the lit screen.

jimin 12:01 pm- it’s lunchtime!! you better get your butt out here!

You smile and text back an affirmative reply, then move to grab your lunch from the company fridge. Gliding down the steps leading to the fresh outdoors, you meet Jimin at the lunch tables in the grass.

Jimin is sitting with Jungkook. You can recognize your best friend by his hair and glasses, and Jungkook by his obnoxious laughter.

“Hi,” you murmur as you sit down and open up the brown bag lunch you’ve brought.

“Hi!” Jimin is excited to see you, and just a pinch over eager to be sitting next to Jungkook.

“You know Jungkook, right?” Jimin asks, a harsh look in his eyes that reminds you to be on your best behavior.

You nod as you pull out a bag of grapes. “Oh, yeah, hey,” you smile. “I’ve seen you around.”

Jungkook delivers you a signature smirk and you feel yourself roll your eyes internally. “Yeah, you’re Coffee Girl, right?”

You pout and glare down at your brown bag lunch. Will you ever become more than just Coffee Girl?

“Yeah, I suppose that’s me.”

Jimin clears his throat to dismiss any awkwardness. 

“So, Jungkook, I hear you like working out? ___ likes to work out too. She drags me to the gym sometimes. Maybe we could all meet up sometime?” You don’t miss the hopeful lilt in his voice. Jungkook does.

“Oh, yeah?” He narrows a sexy look at you, rather—a look he thinks is sexy that you find off-putting. “What do you do at the gym? Little cardio sets with 5 pound weights?”

What an asshole.

“Sometimes,” you state as you take a bite of the homemade salad you handcrafted last night. “Most of the time I’m lifting heavy. I can bench 275 and deadlift 300.”

Jungkook looks taken back. “What, really?” He sounds breathless. “You lift more than Namjoon-hyung.”

At the sound of the love of your life’s name, you pause. Your face heats quickly and Jungkook smirks. Of course, he recognizes this and not Jimin’s obvious flirting.

“Why are you blushing?” He asks. “Did I say something?”

You’re quick to dismiss things. “Um--no. I just um,” you’re grasping at straws. “I’m hot.”

Jimin is trying not to laugh, hiding his mouth behind a petite hand.

Jungkook tilts his head. “It’s not even sunny today.”

You gulp. “Yeah, I must be hot. With a fever. M-malaria… probably.”

Jungkook snorts. 

“You have malaria? Bummer.” He picks at his nails. “I thought for a moment you had a thing for Namjoon.”

“No!” The retort is quick, too quick for normal conversation, and it gives you away.

“Aha!” Jungkook points an accusing finger at you. “You have the hots for him, don’t you?”

Your features melt, and Jimin tries to assuage the situation. “Jungkook, please don’t tell anyone,” he pleads.

Jungkook smiles at you. “That’s so cute. It’s like a little nerdy freshman crushing on the senior class president.”

You bury your head in your hands, suddenly unable to stomach any food.

“Jungkook,” Jimin’s tone becomes more firm, authoritative. “I’m asking you this as a friend. Please, don’t say anything.”

Jungkook holds his hands up to prove his innocence and waves his proverbial white flag. 

“Secret is safe with me,” he promises. “But it’s cute. I know him really well, you know. I could try to hook you two up.”

You blanch, unsure if you want Jungkook saying anything about you to the man of your dreams. 

“I’m good, but thanks,” you offer meekly. “I’m not feeling well. I’m going to head back to work, okay?”

Jimin frowns, knowing you’re feeling like a cornered animal, and nods. “Feel better, babe,” he sighs.

Jungkook watches as you leave and turns to Jimin. “Man, he’s way out of her league.”

Jimin slaps the boy in the chest. “Be nice, asshole, that’s my best friend.”

Jungkook promises to be nice, and Jimin is blissfully unaware that others are listening and that the man beside him is easy to persuade.

( present day )

The company-wide meeting adjourns soon after what is likely to be the most embarrassing moment you’ve ever lived through.

You’re grabbing at your things and trying to run out of the room, desperate to get out before anyone sees you or talks to you or laughs at you.

A hand grabs at the coattails of your suit jacket and you’re pulled backwards with a yelp. You turn to seek your captor and find the concerned face of your best friend, Jimin.

“Are you okay? What the fuck just happened?”

Jimin’s concern makes it all real. Until now you could pretend you were in a fugue state, totally dissociated from reality. Now, you realize that everyone in the entire company is aware of your crush on Kim Namjoon.

You can feel your bottom lip wobble, tears threatening to spill. Jimin murmurs an ‘oh shit’ and drags you out of the large room and into the nearest bathroom. He pushes you to sit against the sink and passes you toilet paper to dab at your eyes.

“I don’t know how she found out!” you cry. “God, I feel so stupid and embarrassed.”

It incenses Jimin. He’s holding it back to ensure you’re okay, but in reality, it’s an HR nightmare waiting to happen. He’ll find who did it and punish them accordingly.

They will suffer. 

“It’s okay, babe,” he pulls you into a hug. “Everyone will forget about it soon. They’ll think it’s just a lame office joke, okay?”

You nod, feeling the slightest bit comforted by his words. 

“How could she find out, Jiminie?” You ask with a sniffle. “You’re the only person who knows.”

Jimin sighs and shakes his head.

“I don’t know, but they’re dead. I haven’t told any-... oh, my god,” Jimin stops suddenly. You look up at him to catch what he’s thinking.

He growls and balls his fists. 

“Jungkook knew.”

You let out a sob and bawl your eyes out into the tissue you’re holding. Jimin holds you tighter while he conjures up a hundred different ways to hurt someone and make it look like an accident.

“Don’t worry,” Jimin sighs, trying to comfort both you and himself. “I’m HR. I have to handle this. I’ll make sure they get what they deserve.”

You feel a sting of pain for Jimin. He’s been hopelessly doting on the man who spilled the beans for a few months now, even got to take him on a few dates. It was still nothing serious, but Jimin was clearly smitten.

“I’m sorry you have to do that, Chim,” you whisper. “I know how you feel about him.”

“Yeah, well,” he swallows thickly. “You’re more important than any asshole.”

Jimin holds you tight for a few minutes longer, before you clean yourself up and steel yourself. Ignore everyone, Jimin encourages. Just get to work, he says. Then you can go home and we’ll drink wine and forget about it all, he promises.

You replay his words in his head like a prayer as you walk down the corridors and towards your office. Everyone in the hallways stops to stare at you. They lean towards their friends and whisper. You hear snippets of their gossip, like “Namjoon” and “out of her league”. It drives the sharp blade lodged in your chest even further. It threatens to collapse your lungs and break your ribs.

You make it to your desk safe and sound and bury yourself in work and forcibly ignore the gawking and the stares. 

Just make it home. Just get through the day. You’re almost there.

You could do this.

You nearly make it the entire day before running into the one person you didn’t want to see, Kim Namjoon.

At the end of the day, you’re taking the stairs down to the parking garage instead of the elevator. The elevator is too busy, too many people, and you’re trying to avoid the stares and giggles at your expense. The stairs are always deserted and you figure it’s your safest bet.

You can nearly hear the wine calling your name at home. A delicate glass of Sauvignon Blanc and some chocolate ice cream and a good cry—it sounds like the best and only way to unwind after the worst day you’ve ever had in your life.

The chanting of your name gets louder and you wonder if you’ve finally lost your mind—if you’re actually hearing your wine bottles all the way at home talking to you.

No, wait. The voice is real, and coming from behind you. You turn around to face who’s calling you and nearly faint at the sight.

Kim Namjoon stands on the landing above you, one strip of stairs between you.

“Hey!” He seems glad he’s caught you. “I’ve been calling your name for a minute.”

You swallow and search for an answer. 

“Sorry, I’m-.. I guess I’m just a little out of it today.”

Namjoon grimaces. 

“Yeah, about that…” he begins as he takes the steps down to be on equal ground as you. Your heart is spinning wildly. He’s so close to you. He’s talking to you. On any other day you’d be erupting towards the sky like a firework. But today isn’t any other day.

“I feel like I should apologize,” he states. “I don’t know what happened. I didn’t plan it or anything.”

Damn him and his kindness. Damn him and his cute, awkward smile.

“No, no,” you assure. “I know you didn’t. You don’t have to apologize.”

It’s hard to make eye contact with the man. You want to, know it’s important in intense conversations like this, but the thought of him seeing you—really seeing you makes you ache inside.

“It was a really shitty prank,” he begins. “I’m sure you don’t even know who I am, let alone have a crush on me.”

For the millionth time that day, your face heats to a near boil. You stammer and you’re sure you’ve blown any chance at even thinking about a date with Namjoon.

“Oh, uh, right,” you seek an answer, beg your brain to pick something to say that doesn’t make you sound stupid. “I do.”

“You do what?” He’s confused and you widen your eyes at what just left your mouth.

“I do know you! I mean, I do have a crush on you! Oh, fuck,” you shove your face into your hands. “Please, ignore that. I need to go. Sorry!” You don’t give him a chance to reply, you book it out of the stairway as fast as your heels will take you.

Today was the worst day you’ve suffered through in your life.

The next few days aren’t much better.

Not only are you “coffee girl”, you’re now also sarcastically called “Namjoon’s girl”. As much as you hate your initial title, you’d prefer it to the new one they throw at you as you walk by.

Jimin rats out Jungkook and Chungha to the bosses. They get two weeks probation and they have to write you apology letters if they wish to keep their permanent files clean of any reprimands. It’s a slap on the wrist, and everyone involved knows it. Jimin is furious and wants the boss to reconsider. You tell him not to push it. You’d rather this be over and everyone to forget it even happened. Jimin unwillingly agrees.

You’re working at your desk, earphones shoved in your ears to diffuse the gossip in the room, when you feel a tap on your shoulder. You turn and are greeted with the face of Judas Iscariot himself, Jeon Jungkook.

“Hi,” he sounds sheepish, cheeks reddening.

You narrow your eyes at him, sharper than steel. “What the fuck do you want?”

He winces, knowing he deserved that. “Well, I just wanted to apologize. I know they told me to write you a letter, but it seems too impersonal…”. 

You can’t believe Jungkook is sucking his ego up and actually coming to you to apologize. You thought he’d for sure be the one to cop out and send a shitty letter.

He continues. 

“I just wanted to let you know that I’m sorry that all went down. I didn’t mean to tell her. She got me drunk and said she saw me eating lunch with you and Jimin. I think she was jealous or something and it slipped out. I know that’s not an excuse. I fucked up your trust and Jimin’s trust. But I just wanted you to know I didn’t do it to be an asshole. She sort of duped me.”

You pause as you take in the man’s apology. He didn’t have to come to you in person. He could have easily taken the shitty route and half-assed a letter to you. But he didn't, and he owned up to his mistake. God dammit.

“I appreciate your apology, Jungkook,” you sigh and you see his body visibly relax. “I’m still mad, but I guess the anger is at her for doing it in the first place. I’m sorry she tricked you.”

He breathes a sigh of relief and kneels down beside you. “I’m really happy you believe me. I was worried you were going to kick me in the nuts.

“I won’t lie, I thought about it.”

He smiles with you, and you feel like this is the restart of a friendship. “I definitely deserved it.”

You shrug and smile. “Jimin would kill me for hurting you. He might even kill me for thinking about hurting you.”

Jungkook’s smile drops at the name of your best friend. Yikes. Looks like there’s still trouble in paradise.

“I think you’d be in similar company with Jimin right now. He’s not speaking to me.”

You let out a breath through your nose. “Yeah, he’s a little protective of me.”

“For good reason,” he admits. “You’re like a cute little flower. A cute nerdy flower.”

“Jungkook,” you warn. “I just forgave you after I was humiliated in front of the entire company. I’d be careful with calling me nerdy right now.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it in a bad way.”

It’s hard to stay mad at the boy, no matter how much you dislike his reputation around the office. The fact that he humbled himself enough to seek you out and apologize is proof enough to you of his character.

“It’s okay, Jungkook. I forgive you,” you smile. “Thank you for apologizing.”

He rubs the back of his neck anxiously as his cheeks flare red.

“Yeah, it felt pretty shitty to just… do anything else. Plus, you seem really cool.”

“You seem great, too, Jungkook.”

He smiles and pulls you in for a hug, catching you off guard. For the fuckboy type, he’s surprisingly sensitive and soft. You like that about him.

“I’ll see you around, okay?” He says as he pulls away from you.

“Maybe you should apologize to Jimin, too?” 

His smile drops, but he nods anyway. “Yeah, maybe I’ll go find him now.”

“Good luck,” you offer with a pat on his shoulder.

With a sad smile, he turns and heads down the hallway towards the HR department. You pray Jimin shows mercy to the handsome boy.

A few weeks go by, and you’re sure that everyone has forgotten about you and your most embarrassing moment to date. You make the coffee, you calculate the numbers, everyone ignores you. Things return to relative normalcy.

Until it doesn't. The moment you think you're safe is the moment your guard comes down and everything falls apart around you.

It's when you're in the staff kitchen, grinding fresh beans to brew a second pot of coffee, that it happens.

The kitchen is fuller than usual. You normally try to wait until the lunchtime crowd dwindles and leaves to make your second pot, but you're so desperate for the caffeine that you can't find it in you to care.

You trudge into the kitchen with your handy coffee mug clutched in your tired hands and head towards the cupboards to grind up the beans.

There's a few groups of coworkers lingering in the room, and as your grinder whirs the beans around into a powder, you chance a look around to see who's among the crowd.

Your eyes flick immediately to where a hearty laugh erupts. It makes your heart still in your throat. Namjoon sits with his usual crowd of friends, hand gripping a homemade sandwich while the other assists him in telling his story to his friends. He pays you no mind—why would he?—and you can't help but stare at the way his dark brown hair lays perfectly against his forehead, and his eyes crinkle so cutely at the edges when he smiles.

You nearly forget about the coffee grounds—you're snapped out of your Namjoon-induced trance when suddenly a woman's laugh echoes around the room.

"Look at her," the voice states.

You peer up and see a girl you vaguely recognize. Is she from Marketing? Or perhaps Sales? You’re not sure, but she’s staring at you with a sneer.

“She’s so weirdly obsessed with Namjoon. It’s so creepy.”

Your face turns cherry red and you’re sure your lungs stop functioning. The air your body needs to breathe freezes and your chest aches. 

Namjoon turns to look at the girl before he looks and sees you grasping your coffee grounds tightly.

“Chungha was right—it’s so weird. Namjoon, you should talk to HR about this!”

Namjoon turns back to the gossiping coworker and frowns. “Can you leave it alone? She wasn’t even doing anything.”

The girl huffs and crosses her arms over her chest and looks back at Namjoon.

“How can you stand to be in the same room as her? She clearly thinks she has a chance with you.”

Her words come out like a bite. She punctuates her point with a harsh laugh and the group around her mumbles and chuckles in agreement.

You’re desperately grabbing at anything you can, wanting to leave as quickly as possible before you’re embarrassed further.

“Well, she does!” Namjoon replies loudly, annoyance written in his features. “I was actually going to ask her to dinner this weekend in private, but since everyone is so fucking interested in my love life, I have to do it publicly.”

The room falls silent, and your favorite mug falls out from your hands and shatters on the floor. All sets of eyes stare at you while yours widen with disbelief—you don't even care that you’re standing in a pool of old coffee and shattered ceramic. 

Namjoon stands and heads over to you, bending down to pick up the shards of your coffee mug. You take a few stunted breaths to kneel and help. 

His eyes peer into yours. They’re warm—a chocolate brown color that makes you feel safe.  

“What do you say?” He asks with a smile so gentle it nearly breaks your heart. “Will you let me take you out this weekend?” 

You’re gaping like a fish and the surrounding room is silent—bated breath waiting for your reply. 

“Yes, I would l-love that.” 

His smile turns even brighter, and he stands to throw the broken mug away. 

“I’ll email you the details, okay?”

Your head nods dumbly without thinking. His eyes sparkle as he smiles at you, and he extends his hand down to you to assist you off the floor. As your hand slips into his, you can’t help but feel how soft and strong he feels. You wonder what his hand would feel like caressing your face, smoothing down the expanse of your bare back, running down the length of your body.

The thoughts shake out of you as he winks and kisses your hand gently, causing the gossiping coworker to grunt her disapproval and for murmurs of shock to echo around the room.

“I’ll talk to you later, doll.” Namjoon winks at you before he grabs his sandwich and leaves the room, gesturing to his crew to follow along.

The place on your hand felt warm where his lips once lingered. You no longer cared about the angry glares from the rest of your coworkers. Your heart beats wildly in your chest, and you leave the kitchen nearly floating on cloud nine.

Email from: Kim Namjoon

Sent: 3:06 pm

Subject: Hey good lookin ;)

Hey! 

Just wanted to see how you are! I’m sorry about what happened at lunchtime. That was super petty and uncalled for. I really wanted to ask you out, and I hope I didn’t embarrass you too much by doing it in front of everyone.

I was wondering if you’d like to go out this Friday night after work? Say around 7? If you send me your address, I’ll pick you up.

Let me know!

Xoxo, Joon

You’re sure if you weren’t sitting in your tiny cubicle, you’d be screaming your lungs out.

The second the notification of the email came through, direct from the man of your desires himself, your body froze.

You re-read the message, over and over and over.  

The winky emoji, the xoxo, the nickname ‘joon’. It’s all so much and makes the grin on your face threaten to split your lips in half.

Your fingers press the “FWD” button and you quickly send the message to Jimin, before you stand demurely, attempting to give off an air of professional confidence. You need to talk to Jimin, now.

As soon as you’re out of the eyesight of suspicious coworkers, you bolt down the hallway towards Human Resources. Your high heels click loudly on the tiled floor, but the sound doesn’t even register in your mind. All you can think about is Namjoon, the email, the press of his lips on your hand, the way his smile made you feel as if you could fly.  

The door to HR swings open with your tight grip around the doorknob, and you open your mouth to call to Jimin, the lone employee, when you’re startled by the sight ahead of you.

Jimin sits on the edge of his expansive desk with his arms thrown around Jungkook’s neck and is clearly engaged in a deep, sensual kiss. At the sound of the door opening, they quickly break apart, with matching cherry red blushes on their cheeks and mused hair.

“Oh, shit,” you gasp. 

The men are silent and you can’t help but giggle after a moment passes. “I’ll take it you two made up?”

Jungkook flashes you a dopey grin, one that gives you an answer, while Jimin smirks haughtily.

“Jungkook and I were just discussing, umm… his 401k.”

Jungkook looks at the blonde boy for a moment, confused, before he gets it. “Yeah! Totally. Retirement. Love to t-talk about it?”

You laugh out loud and walk towards the couple.

“I’m sure it was a titillating discussion,” you tease. “I have good news though, if it’s okay to interrupt this retirement planning session.”

Jimin nods and Jungkook rubs at the back of his neck awkwardly. “I guess I should leave?”

“It’s okay,” you smile. “I trust you.”

Jungkook smiles as if he’s just won the lottery. He looks between you and Jimin, face pure and excited like a puppy.

“What’s up?” Jimin asks as he moves to sit down at his desk.

“I forwarded you an email. Read it.”

Jimin nods and logs on to his posh computer, scrolling and clicking before narrowing his eyes and reading.

“Oh, my god.” Jimin’s face is shocked—it's written all over his features. “Namjoon asked you out?!”

Jungkook’s child-like grin turns into one of shock himself. He runs around to stand behind Jimin, eyes seeking over the words of the email.

“Well, hot damn,” Jungkook whistles. “He asked her out.”

Jimin exchanges a look with Jungkook, one that you’re not sure you can read. It quickly slips your mind, however, as you’re more focused on the task at hand.

“Can you come over tonight after work and help me pick out something to wear?” You ask excitedly.

Jimin smiles at you, a touch of sadness in his eyes, before he nods.

“Of course, babe,” he assures. “We’ll make sure you look nice and hot for the date with Mr. Kim.”

“Thank you!” You squeal as you wrap your arms around your best friend. He hugs you back before you scurry out of the office and back to your cubicle, itching to reply to the message.

Jimin sighs as the door to his office closes behind you.

“Kook, please don’t tell me he’s going to break her heart. He’s asking her out to make himself feel better about this, isn’t he?” 

Jungkook slips his hand into Jimin’s and squeezes. 

“I’ll find out, baby.”

Jimin smiles and nods appreciatively at the boy, before leaning up and kissing him.

Jungkook smiles against his lips, and is determined to ensure the young HR specialist never hates him again, even if he has to go behind his hyung’s back to ensure his new boyfriend’s happiness.

Jungkook has one mission now, and that’s ensuring Namjoon takes you on the greatest date known to man.

He grills Jimin with questions about what you like over dinner one night. Jimin finds it endearing that Jungkook is so eager to rectify his mistakes, but he still can’t help but worry that Namjoon is doing this to save face—not because he actually likes you.

“So, what does she like doing?” Jungkook asks as he spins his pasta around his chopsticks idly.

Jimin smiles as he takes a bite of the ramen Jungkook has thoughtfully prepared for their stay-at-home date.  

“I’ve told you already! She’s easy to figure out.” Jimin pats Jungkook’s hand gently. “She loves cooking and baking, working out, daydreaming about Namjoon.” 

“Cooking, hm,” Jungkook looks thoughtful as he takes a bite. “I think Namjoon can work with that. I’ll let him know!”

Jimin tries to hide the anxiety brewing in his stomach. He’s had to plaster on a fake smile for you while you tried on different outfits, wondering which will be the one to finally convince Namjoon he is the one for you. It’s hard to fake it around his boyfriend, too—but something tugs in his stomach that flares the cynical side of him.

Namjoon went from not knowing of your existence, to watching you get publicly embarrassed in a matter of minutes. While Namjoon isn’t a terrible guy, Jimin knows he doesn’t like anything to tarnish the gentleman reputation he’s built in the office. And as much as Jimin likes him, and surely likes his friend Jungkook, he can’t help but feel skeptical.

Jungkook hurriedly pulls out his phone and types away, letting his elder friend know of what he’s found out. Jimin swallows his food, and his pride, and hopes to god his growing cynicism is wrong.

Friday comes slower than you’d like. You wake up every day during the week, one day closer, and your eagerness hits peak levels. Namjoon sees you in the hallways during the week and winks at you, hands shoved in his tight slacks that make you salivate.  

He emails you again Thursday afternoon, confirming things and getting your address. You reply in nanoseconds, uncaring how overeager you come off. 

By the time your alarm clock rings on Friday morning, you’ve already been awake for 4 hours.

All you can do is daydream about the date, the way his hand fits into yours, the warmth of his eyes when he smiles at you.

It’s what fuels you through work.

You hope to god the numbers you’re attempting to work during the day come out right, because your mind is elsewhere for more than most of the day. There isn’t enough coffee in the world, but also your body feels as if you’ve overdosed on caffeine already.

The clock eeks towards 5:00 pm and you’re bolting out the door at 4:56 to head home and get ready for your date.

Jimin attempts to meet you before you leave, but your desk is cold and empty by the time he gets there.  

He sighs and heads back towards his office to gather his things, waving bye to various coworkers as they file out of the corporate building.

He turns the corner towards his office but stops in his tracks as he sees Namjoon’s back to him, phone pressed to his ear.

“Baby, I’ll come over later tonight, okay?” Namjoon speaks into the phone.

Jimin feels his heart fall into the pit of his stomach. He retreats and hides behind a wall, ear carefully peeled to listen to the tall man’s conversation.

“I’m going on this date with that chick from work,” he sighs. “It won’t last more than a few hours. Poor girl has a crush on me and you know the usual assholes won’t leave her alone.”

Jimin bites his lip and clenches his fist. Namjoon thinks he means well, but he knows his suspicions have been confirmed, and he’s torn inside. He wants to tell you, to warn you not to get too invested in the man, but he also has no interest in popping the bubble you’ve been in since the day he asked you out.

Jimin lets it simmer for now. He decides he’ll monitor Namjoon and cut things off if it appears the man strings you along for fun.

Namjoon finishes his phone call with a promise to see whoever is on the other end of the phone later that night, and Jimin quickly pulls out his phone and fakes a conversation with no one when he hears the man approach.

“Oh, Kookie,” Jimin giggles, leaning against the wall casually. “I can’t wait to see you tonight, either, babe.”

Namjoon walks towards Jimin and makes eye contact with the HR specialist.

“Bye, Kook! See you tonight, baby.” Jimin finishes up the fake phone call as Namjoon arrives next to him, and he plasters on his best fake smile.

“Congrats on you and Jungkook,” he speaks sincerely.

Jimin hates how nice he is, hates that he’s a nice guy who gets too wrapped up in his own good looks and reputation.

“Thanks, Namjoon,” Jimin smiles uneasily. “You too! Have fun on your date tonight.”

Namjoon’s face lights up and Jimin desperately wishes he could go back in time to 30 seconds ago, before he heard the conversation, and believe that Namjoon truly wanted to date you.

“Thanks, should be fun, huh?” He winks and nudges Jimin, before he waves a goodbye and continues out the door.

Jimin pulls his phone out of his pocket and dials the number of his boyfriend.

“Hey, baby. We’ve got a problem.”

tag list! - @jimidol @aretha170 @dearbambideer​ 

[afictionalwhore]

SDV Bachelors’ Love Languages (hc) and a little bit of kinks

Who said they were never going to do headcanons again? Not me!

Why? Because I’m addicted to Stardew. Also finding pictures of these men to make good headers is difficult. I just gave up.

Some of these are NFSW!

───────･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.─────────

Shane: Acts of Service and Physical Touch

Shane is worried that you’re going to think he thinks you can’t handle yourself when he tries to make your life as easy and comfortable as possible. This isn’t true at all. He thinks that you work incredibly hard and wants to be there for you to take the break you deserve.

He likes to wake up early to help you with the animals like how he did on his aunt’s ranch. The stability and routine of it is comforting to him because it’s life with you.

If you’re not up and watering crops by the time he’s done with the animals, he’ll make breakfast for you

He loves making you breakfast in bed, typically an omelette made with fresh milk and eggs. He’ll do hashbrowns too if you have potatoes in stock/ready to harvest.

A service switch. His biggest turn on is getting you off, so he wants to make sure you’ve cum several times before he starts working on himself. If there’s anything new you want to try, just talk to him. He’ll try anything once if he thinks it’ll make you happy. He usually doms, but if you want to be on top, don’t hesitate to ask; he’ll gladly let you.

───────･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.─────────

Sebastian: Quality Time and Physical Touch

Isn’t really one for showing affection in any way until he really is sure that his feelings are reciprocated. Once he’s sure of how you feel, this man is nothing short of romantic.

While dating or before, just when he realizes he’s starting to fall, he tells you to come visit anytime. He likes when you’re just there. This carried over into married life.

Sebastian is still a loner and an introvert. He wants to spend time with you but he feels smothered if the two of you are always doing something together. He wants to be in the same area as you and loves sitting with you and reading his comics while you scroll through your phone. Before you were married, he loved when you’d visit while he was working, even if all you did was take a nap on his couch after mining all morning.

He’s not one for PDA, but will hold your hand at festivals if you really want to. When you’re at home, or in his room before you’re married, this man will absolutely cling to you. He wants to snuggle during movie nights. He falls asleep spooning you. He wants to hold you and watch while you cook dinner. He wants to lay in your lap and have you play with his hair.

A little bit of words of affirmation, but this is because he’s not sure how to show how he feels and wants to make sure you know. He also wants to be reassured of how you feel and hearing it is nice.

Body worship. Seb loves every part of you. While he may not be very vocal about it, he’s not gonna leave any part of you unloved, smothering you with kisses and soft whispered praises. Seb loves going down on you and making you feel good.

He’s a bit of a masochist. He loves when you’re rough with him. Pulling his hair and scratching his back. He also has a sadistic streak though, if he gets the okay from you. He enjoys pulling your hair and edging you until you’re crying for him.

Seb is also probably into bdsm because of the level of trust. There’s a lot of things he wants to try and he’s excited to finally have someone he trusts enough to try it with. Fully trusting someone is very important to him. Once he had the okay from you, nothing is off the table. This man wants to try everything from bondage to choking to knife play.

───────･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.─────────

Elliot: Words of Affirmation and Physical Touch

This man is a writer, so there is no shortage of love notes in your lunchbox/tacklebox/backpack.

You’re his muse. You inspire all his writings. Even if a poem looks like it’s about the sea or some other part of nature, it’s really about you.

Elliot is really going for that Jane Austen type feeling of romance. Leaning into that, Elliot loves dancing with you in your home.

Hearing how you feel is very important to Elliot. He likes to start the day with a kiss and hearing “I love you!”

Pet names! Elliot is going to call you “honey”, “sweetheart”, “cherie”, “darling”. He’ll call you his turtle if he thought he could make it romantic.

Elliot finds warmth in your touch and he’s obviously going to tell you this in the most poetic way possibly.

Elliot is one to mindlessly trace patterns over your skin as the two of you are cuddling and he loves having his hair played with.

Praise. Kink. He’s going to shower you in praises. He’s going to call you his good girl/boy. He’s gonna tell you that you’re taking him oh so well. “You’re doing great baby, just like that.”

Elliot is also going to smother you in kisses. Elliot’s kisses are very passionate, as is sex with him. Elliot prefers heavy passionate love making.

The praise kink goes both ways. He loves when you tell him how good he feels and beg him not to stop, right. “You’re so good, daddy,” will make this man feral.

───────･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.─────────

Harvey: Acts of Service and Quality Time

Harvey is very busy as the only doctor in town, so his time is incredibly precious to him. That being said, any time spent with you means the world to Harvey.

Harvey loves trying to help make your life easier. He also appreciates when you do little things for him, like pack a lunch for him to take to the office.

Harvey is very awkward, so words and touch don’t mean a lot to him. He’ll tell you how he feels if he wants you

Role play. I’ve had so many people tell me this one and ya know. I cannot disagree. Harvey absolutely goes nuts when you call him “captain” and when you bought that flight attendant outfit.

He’s also not above going down to his office after hours and “curing your hysteria.”

───────･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.─────────

Alex: Words of Affirmation and Acts of Service

Like Alex always needs to hear about how he’s gonna be a great sports star, he always needs to hear that you love him.

But Alex is also going to tell you every day how much he loves you, how much you mean to him.

You never have to worry about what to wear because Alex thinks you look beautiful in everything and let’s you know it.

Alex isn’t really one for touching. With his past, he’s probably adverse to touch at first, but will eventually relax into your touch.

While it may have started out with him having to prove his masculinity, Alex found that he genuinely enjoys doing things for you. He’s learning how to fix things and do farm work to make your life easier.

Alex is the least kinkiest here. If you ask to try something new, he’ll probably just be like “a new position?” Not that he wouldn’t be excited to try a new position.

I think he could also be convinced to do some light bondage.

───────･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.─────────

Sam: Physical Touch and Gift Giving

Sam is very touchy-feely from the get go. He’s not afraid of PDA at all. He wants his arm around you at all times. He’s stealing kisses at every opportunity.

Sam wants to be all over you. If you’re sitting, Sam will somehow find his way into your lap. He’s like a puppy. If he fits, he sits; if he don’t fit, he will make himself fit.

Sam doesn’t necessarily go out and buy you gifts. Instead, he gives you flowers he picked and things like that.

Sam would absolutely get you matching stuffed animals he won at a festival.

Sam would also write songs for you! He’s just so excited that he runs straight for you, guitar in hand, and starts playing.

Sam, like Alex, probably isn’t as kinky as the others. Sam probably likes to tease and spank, but with Sam, sex is definitely goofy. It’s a great time when you’re both laughing.

[trentaafcsblog]

Midnight Memories

Mason Mount

This isn’t like him at all. Trapped in a crowd of drunk and disorderly people who are staggering around to the beat of the music, sloshing their drinks all over one another when the pink and purple strobe lights descend upon their bodies and start flashing in a series of random patterns, enhancing their alcohol-induced illusions and perceptions of the world as they flail their limbs around and claim they’re flying or walking on clouds - a stage that Mason isn’t willing to reach tonight, or any night, for that matter. 

A sea of girls in overly tight dresses and heels that barely support them crowding around him and slurring things in his ear. Running their fingers up his bare arms and begging for another drink as he awkwardly shakes his head and tries to break away from them, only for another person to grip onto him from the other side and smear their cheap sticky lipgloss all over his neck in an attempt to add ‘I kissed a footballer’ to their CV. “Just kiss meee” they whine, pouting in his face and trying to pull him closer before giving up and making a move on the next available man, one who’s willing to explore their mouths and buy them endless rounds of multicoloured shots for the rest of the night without gently shoving them away or not-so-subtly avoiding their alcohol-coated lips.

This isn’t your type of place either, although you’re five cocktails deep into the stack of pornstars that your friends insisted on ordering. A stain down the front of your white bodycon dress thanks to an escapee half a passion fruit that decided to leave your triangular glass in order to explore the vomit-tainted floor. Your lips all patchy now that your lipgloss has migrated to decorate the rim of your empty glasses with sparkly nude smudges, although you’re slightly relieved because it means that your hair won’t get coated in it anymore, and it minimises the evidence if you end up kissing someone too, not that you came here to do that, or risk putting yourself in the same category as the girls that are now trying to climb into the VIP section with a bunch of semi-famous people, all because they want a drunk kissing video to plaster across their social media, hoping that it takes them to the front of the papers in the morning for being such-and-such’s ‘mystery girl’.

You’re looking up at the VIP area cordoned off by security guards in black puffer jackets and walkie talkies in their hands, feeling an overwhelming sense of empathy for all of the people that have to tolerate that kind of behaviour. Your eyes start scanning across the section of the club that is far too expensive for just a few hours’ stay, wondering if you can recognise any famous faces, but it’s just the ‘I lasted one day in the Villa and still managed to secure a Pretty Little Thing brand deal’ Love Islanders and the friend of the friend of the friend of a semi-professional footballer that made one twelve minute appearance for Arsenal back in 2010 and thinks he’s God’s gift. All of them either eating each other’s faces or taking boomerangs of them cheers-ing their margaritas before having to retake the same video five times because they’ve lost several lime slices in the process and it’s ruining the aesthetic. Your focus sharpening on someone with their back to you and at least ten girls around them, taking it in turns to have a drunken selfie or begging him to buy them a bottle of champagne with one of those fancy sparkler things on the top that gets brought out by women wearing elaborate carnival-inspired feather headbands and very revealing dresses. And you can’t help but feel sorry for him because you can tell just from the back of his head that he’s incredibly uncomfortable, even more so when he gets offered a blowjob from a girl who’s now threatening to get her boobs out in exchange for a whole bottle of Don Julio, in a bucket of ice, just how she likes it.

He’s turning around to face the rest of the club just as you go to look away at the menu that’s being wafted under your nose by one of your friends, and you can’t help but do a double take at his familiarity. Squinting your eyes so that you can get a better look at his features. ‘Nice drink’ you think when your eyes catch the glass of Diet Coke in his hand, quite obviously not accompanied by a swig of vodka going by his incredibly tense frame and stiff dance moves. Well, it’s not really dancing, it’s more of a ‘I’ll just copy what my friends are doing so I don’t look awkward’ move, aka a two-step shuffle from one side to the other. You can’t help but giggle as you watch him from across the room, your friends completely giving up on trying to entice you with a selection of expensive cocktails as they leave you to stare at some random man on the other side of the club, their need for a second stack of bright coloured drinks clearly overriding the want to look out for their friend.

You’re watching him for a bit longer. Becoming completely fixated on this familiar stranger who you can’t help but sit and giggle at. Part of you wanting to cringe with him at how hellish this night has become, but at the same time, it’s kind of funny watching someone who should be so used to having a large following blush and laugh awkwardly if anyone happens to recognise him. Okay, maybe it’s slightly uncomfortable to sit and watch a swarm of girls attack him with their overdrawn lips whilst he does everything in his will to not shove them into next week, especially when his friends start laughing and taking little videos of the awkward encounters, clearly ready to embarrass him at a later date. But regardless, it’s nice to know that fame hasn’t gone completely to his head, unlike an ex-reality TV star who’s screaming ‘do you know who I am?’ at one of the bouncers who won’t let her hang out with her ‘friends’ in the VIP section.

But you’re quickly forced out of your trance when you feel somebody shoving something into your hand. Looking down at your palm and clocking the ten pound note before your eyes are lifting to the hand that it’s been given from. “Go and get us those cocktails” your friend slurs before slumping back in her seat and falling to one side slightly, her pink lipstick slathered all over her chin from where she’d tried to apply it without a mirror when a man wearing an extremely tight fitting top happened to settle down in the booth next to you, obviously hoping that he’d look her way. “Hurry up, I’m thirstyyy” your other friend whines, making you sigh and mutter something under your breath in reference to them being lazy and ruining your evening, as you slide out of the row of pink arched seats and stand up. Having to grip onto the back of the chairs when your legs go all warm and fuzzy from the one too many cocktails you’d already consumed, pulling your dress down to a more appropriate length before heading off in the direction of the bar. Trying to catch a glimpse of Mason as you swerve in and out of the sea of dancing bodies, but you just end up feeling as though you’re going to fall to the floor when the strobe lights start spinning on the ceiling before dispersing their blue and green beams around the room at the most ridiculous speed. Everybody around you swaying from side to side and elbowing you in the ribs as you try your best to dodge them, kicking yourself for wearing the most stupid pair of heels as your toes crush into each other more and more with each step, cursing when you skid in a puddle of what looks like - or at least you hope is - vodka, and you have to grab onto a stranger’s arm to steady yourself, much to their dismay until they catch a glimpse of your apologetic face and suddenly want to make out with you.

You’re breathing a sigh of relief when you finally make it to the bar, setting your bag down on the counter and ordering what you think your friends want, although you probably should have double-checked with them first considering you were too busy having a nosy at someone across the club to pay any sort of interest to their alcohol preferences. “What?” you’re shouting at the barman when he tells you the total of the drinks, hoping that you’ve misheard him but ten pounds clearly isn’t going to cover the cost of sixteen cosmopolitans with added shots of vodka. Panicking when he repeats the price and turns his back to get started on making them, your hands now frantically searching your bag in the hope that you manage to find the extra money before he starts yelling at you for ordering things without being able to pay. “Fuck” you’re hissing as you turn the contents of your bag out onto the countertop, checking the inside of your phone case and a pressed powder incase they happen to house the remaining money. Your heartbeat pounding louder in your ears the closer it gets to having to admit that you’ve actually only got a quarter of what you need. 

“I’ll get it” someone’s saying, clearly sensing the tension between you and the barman as you shrug your shoulders in response to him sticking his hand out for the money. “I’m not a charity” you snap back, your slightly tipsy state giving you a rush of confidence as you continue to search your bag in the hope that the money has magically appeared just so that you can laugh it off and shut everyone up. “I know, but it’s on me” they’re saying again, leaning forward and tapping their card on the machine before you can even consider fighting back a second time. “Thank-” you’re starting before realising who it is that’s just saved you from an incredibly awkward situation. Surely not. Surely Mason Mount hasn’t just bought you, of all people, a load of cocktails for your mates.

“It’s okay” he laughs nervously, making your heart melt because clearly he’s just as awkward around you as he is everybody else in this club. “Prices have gone up, haven’t they?” he smiles as he takes a step closer to you, propping himself up on the countertop with his elbows before asking the barman for a lemonade, with ice, just so it isn’t too fizzy. “Yeah, I don’t normally come out so I underestimated it a bit” you laugh shyly before looking off in the other direction, simultaneously cursing and thanking your friends for leading you to believe that you could get sixteen cocktails for a tenner, because without their stupidity, you wouldn’t be talking to the boy that you’ve been watching all night. “Prefer to stay at home then?” he asks as you turn back and nod your head. “Me too” he’s saying, “I’m normally in bed by now” he giggles as his gaze rises to the clock above the bar, the time reading 00.04am. The slight dark glow under his eyes letting you know that he’s normally tucked up by 9pm in his pyjamas. “What are you doing here then?” you ask. Stupid question really. He’s here for the same reason that you, and probably half of the people here, are - he’s been dragged along and forced to pretend that he’s a right party animal whilst he sips his non-alcoholic drinks and fights off every woman in sight. “My mates made me tag along, I’m kind of glad they did now though” he’s telling you, the second part of his sentence almost becoming inaudible as his voice quietens just as the volume of the music rises with the chorus of ‘My Yé Is Different’, ironic since you’ve just spotted the twenty grand watch decorating his wrist whilst you’re stood there in a passion fruit stained dress. But you’re still managing to hear it, and you can’t work out whether that’s in reference to you, or the fact that he’s been able to drink fizzy drinks when he’d normally only have water. Except you’re not stupid. 

“Bet you say that to everyone” you tease, gaining his attention again as he laughs nervously and shakes his head. “Only the special ones” he replies, which is true, but now you can’t help but wonder if his drinks have been accompanied by a few shots of something or another because those words and the sincerity of his tone aren’t a reflection of the awkward man you spotted ten minutes ago, let alone the fact that he clearly considers you to be one of these ‘special ones.’ “Yeah, yeah” you’re saying back, flicking your hair over your shoulder before taking a sip of one of the cocktails that are sat before you, still waiting to be taken back to your friends. “Got quite a few drinks for somebody that doesn’t go out much, no wonder you needed me to pay” he winks as you roll your eyes and blush at the thought of somebody having to give you a helping hand with the price. “This is my last one, I’m off in a minute cose I can’t keep up with everyone else” you’re shouting over the music, watching him throw his head back and laugh because he thought he was the only one in that position. “I’ll join you” he’s replying, thanking the barman for his drink before taking a sip through the straw. “Not the sort of thing you say to a girl after only knowing her two minutes, Mason” you’re teasing, studying his face as his eyes blow wide slightly and he shakes his head, quickly swallowing his lemonade before stuttering on his words. Unsure whether he’s panicking about you jokingly misinterpreting his comment, or if he’s uncomfortable over the fact that yet another girl knows his name, but either way, he’s laughing awkwardly when you tell him that you’re only messing. 

“I wouldn’t mind though” you say smugly, causing another nervous giggle to escape his lips. Your alcohol-induced confidence only adding to the butterflies that are already batting their wings against his rib cage, something about your slight feistiness and sarcastic sense of humour attracting him to you, even more so when he takes in how beautiful you still look despite being on the verge of your alcohol limit.

“Where are you going afterwards?” he’s asking once the lights have swivelled around in the opposite direction and the blush on his cheeks isn’t so evident. “I’ll just go to the chippy down the road and then get a taxi home” you’re telling him, looking down into the fluorescent pink concoction in your glass and feeling your stomach churn at how rough it’s going to make you feel in the morning. “Mind if I join you?” he’s asking as you look across at him in disbelief, watching as he downs the last few sips of his drink and stands the glass back on the countertop. Is this a dream or something? “Sorry, that was a bit forward...again” he panics, feeling a surge of anxiety run through his body incase he’s greeted with newspaper headlines in the morning about him unintentionally trying to latch onto girls that aren’t interested in him, even if half of the club know his name. 

“No, it’s fine, of course you can” you laugh, your cocktail glass almost slipping out of your grip thanks to the layer of sweat that is now developing across your palm. “I’ll just take these over to the girls and then I’ll be ready” you smile, looping the strap of your bag over your shoulder and grabbing as many glasses as you can, which really isn’t a wise move since you’ve partially lost all sense of coordination thanks to Mason’s ability to wipe any drop of confidence out of your body and replace it with nervous butterflies. 

“I’m off” you’re announcing once you’ve made your third trip back to the booth your friends are sitting in, their drunken reactions to your words making you giggle as you reach over them to grab your jacket. “Where are you goinggg?” one of them whines, gripping onto your leg and pouting before another one is drawn to the verge of tears at your confession. “I’m just tired” you nod, blowing them all a kiss and ensuring that they text you when you’re home as you turn around and head off towards the exit, not wanting to keep Mase waiting any longer. Praying that he’s stood just around the corner outside as he’d promised as you stagger across the dance floor and dodge a sea of flailing limbs and slurred shouts of ‘can I get your number?’. A sigh of relief forcing itself out of your nostrils when the ‘exit’ sign hanging above one of the fire doors becomes within touching distance and the bouncer in charge anticipates your departure, pushing down the grey bar across the middle of the door and letting it swing open, enabling you to step out into the night.

“There you are” you smile as you approach the back of his figure, his head kept down and a cap adding a nice accessory to his outfit, although it’s definitely worn as some form of disguise. “Hi” he’s smiling nervously when he realises that it’s you, a swarm of butterflies invading his tummy again when you link your arm through his and gently rest your head on the top of his shoulder - a move that you’re aware might push you into the same category as the other girls that have been after him all night, but your crippled feet and wobbly legs are grateful for the extra stability, even if your motivation to make that move takes you both by surprise. 

“Let me get this” you’re saying once you’ve made your way into the kebab shop, your arm dropping away from his as you gesture towards the table up against the front window. “You sure?” he’s asking, dipping his hand into his back pocket ready to pull his wallet out just incase, but you’re nodding and confirming that you’re more than capable of paying four-pound-fifty for a kebab and a couple of drinks - just as well really after the events earlier this evening. Giving him a small smile as he turns and heads off towards the table in the corner, his celebrity instincts kicking when he takes the seat right in front of the glass, conveniently covered by a sticker of the menu, and some extra protection offered from the back of his body. 

You’re setting the gold foam kebab box down on your table for two, along with two plastic forks, a bottle of water and a Fruit Shoot because you noticed him eyeing them up in the fridge when you came in. And it turned out to be one of the hardest decisions of your life trying to work out what flavour he wanted. Maybe it was the alcohol that was messing with your brain, making you think that he was more of an citrus guy than a berry one. Or maybe it was the fact that you were buying a child’s drink for a fully grown adult, a famous one too, who probably hasn’t had one for ten years, which only added to the pressure. Or maybe it was because you liked him and you didn’t want to ruin your chances by getting him the wrong flavour. But after flicking your gaze between the stack of bright coloured bottles and his body cowering away in the corner, you settled for the blackcurrant one, just because he looks like the type of person to play it safe - well, he is the type of person to play it safe, going by his Diet Coke and lemonade choices tonight. 

“This for me?” he’s asking as he picks the purple bottle up, smiling when you nod to confirm his answer. “How did you know this was my favourite flavour?” he’s questioning, a smug look appearing on your face as you shrug your shoulders and reply with ‘only the ‘special ones’ know that kind of information’. A giggle escaping his mouth at your words before he’s pulling the plastic lid off the drink and taking a sip, humming at the familiarity despite not having one since his seventh birthday party. “Still as good as they used to be” he’s saying, something about the additional happiness that’s now surging through his body after a drop of blackcurrant juice making your tummy fill with butterflies because he really is just the cutest, biggest child.

You’re both sitting in a comfortable silence as you pick at your shared kebab, trying to eat from separate ends so that you don’t cross any boundaries or run the risk trying to stab your forks into the same piece of chicken. But the fuzzy filter that the alcohol has brought to your eyes and the slight delay that it’s caused between your thoughts and your actions means that you find yourself diving into the last piece of pitta bread just at the same time that Mason does. And from his side it’s a poor judgement call. The sugar from his Fruit Shoot clearly giving him an extra boost of energy and causing his arm to extend outwards towards the polystyrene box, clouding his mum’s reminder that ‘you need be a gentleman and let girls eat whatever’s left, even if you want it’. And truth be told, he doesn’t really want it, which is why the pang of anxiety as soon as his plastic fork clashes with yours is stronger than ever. His cheeks turning a violent shade of crimson as he quickly pulls his fork back, leaving just four little holes from where the prongs had been as you panic and do the same.

“Sorry, no you have it” he says quietly, nudging the box towards you in the hope that you get the hint. “No, you eat it” you smile, pushing it back towards him. The two of you just repeating the same movement as the box moves two centimetres one way, and then two centimetres back the other. “Mason, just eat it!” you whine as he sits opposite you and shakes his head. “I said you could have it” he smiles nervously, subtly wiping the sweat off his palms and onto the material of his jeans when he realises that you’re staring straight into his eyes. “Why are you getting all nervous for? Just eat ittt” you groan, a giggle escaping his lips because there’s no way you’re backing down on this one. “Fine” he huffs, stabbing his fork back into the little holes that it made earlier before slowly moving it towards his mouth. Your eyebrows raising more and more as you watch it edge closer to his lips. And then he’s doing the unthinkable and quickly changing the direction of his fork so that it starts heading towards your mouth instead. Involuntarily parting your lips whilst you wait for what’s just happened to register, and the next thing you know, you’re swallowing the piece of pitta bread. 

“What a fuss about nothing” he hums as you roll your eyes at him. “You’re quite romantic, aren’t you?” you tease as his eyebrows furrow in the middle, waiting for you to clarify your comment. “Is that all of the alcohol that’s made you so desperate to share the last piece of food with me?” you question, another layer of blush painting itself across the tops of his cheeks. “Oh, sorry, you didn’t have anything to drink, did you? Lightweight” you smirk, making him roll his eyes this time. “I’m just being a gent, plus you’ve been drinking so you need something to sober you up, maybe it’ll stop you being so rude next time I offer to buy you a drink” he says smugly, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back in the chair. A wave of composure washing over him now that he’s left you slightly speechless and he’s matched your sense of humour. “Next time? You’ll be lucky” you sass as he scoffs at you. “You’re the one that needs to buy me a drink to apologise for snapping at me, so there will be a next time to call it quits, thank you” he smiles, his sudden burst of confidence talking to you allowing his real personality to shine through, and you can’t help but start to get lost in it. “Was I really that rude?” you ask, secretly dying as you think back to your ‘I’m not a charity’ comment at the bar. “No, I’m just messing” he laughs, eliciting the same response from you as you erase that memory out of your brain. “You’re just confident, I like it” he’s saying, the last part of his comment getting lost when a group of people come staggering through the door, drowning out his words for the second time tonight, but you’re ninety-nine percent certain you managed to catch it. And now you’re the nervous one.

You’re quickly moving the conversation on to something else when you feel your chest starting to heat up with anxious prickles. Mason going all funny inside because it’s clear that he has the same effect on you as you do him, but he’s trying to push that to the back of his mind as he listens to you rambling on about your favourite breed of dogs, and how you had a fish finger sandwich for tea before you came out tonight, and how you actually know quite a lot about football but you’re reluctant to bring it up because you don’t want to embarrass him, although your drunken state causes you to let a few football facts slip out, all of them relating to Mase but you’re too caught up in your fuzzy alcoholic state to even recognise. But he does, obviously. Finding it sweet how you know exactly how many appearances he’s made for Chelsea, and what minute he came on in his debut against Manchester United, and what colour boots he wore against last season’s match against Newcastle. Just sitting back and letting you talk in between the occasional swig of water, hardly being able to get a word in edgeways because the alcohol is well and truly running through your veins now, making you come out with all kinds of mismatched comments and slurs. But he doesn’t mind, which takes him by surprise a bit, especially as he’s secretly scared of drunk people and he can count the amount of times he’s felt a bit tipsy on one hand, but there’s something different about you. Maybe it’s your sense of humour and how you’ve got him in stitches, or how your drunken state leads you to be more concerned about the welfare of a stray cat outside than it does anything else on the planet, or maybe it’s how deep beneath that strong outer shell you’re protecting yourself with that he knows you’ve got a heart of gold, an inside of ‘pure mush’ as his mum would say. 

“What time is it?” you slur after knocking back your last swig of water. “Nearly one o’clock” Mason’s replying, glancing at his overly-expensive watch as you sit there and wonder how he actually knows what hour of the day it is when all of the numbers have been replaced by diamonds. “Better head off” you mumble, staring blankly into the empty kebab box and trying to process what move you need to make next in order to get yourself back home in one piece. “I’ll order you a cab if you want, or I’ll walk you back, I don’t know how far away you live” he’s saying, forcing you out of your trace as you look up at his tired, bloodshot eyes. Knowing full well that as soon as you’re gone he’ll be running home to bed with a glass of water to tone down the bubbles in his tummy from his fizzy drinks, paranoid incase they give him a fizzy version of a hangover. “I live about half an hour away and I can tell you’re ready for bed so I’ll go with the cab” you smile, making him giggle nervously at the fact that his tiredness has been uncovered, although it’s not difficult to pick up on the fact that the only other time he stays up this late is on New Years Eve, and even then he normally sets an alarm for 11.57pm so that he can wake up from his nap in time.

You’re letting him help you put all of your belongings back into your handbag after you insisted on showing him your favourite lipgloss midway through your earlier conversation. Linking your arm through his and stepping out into the coldness of the night, a breeze nipping across your legs and causing you to let out a little squeal as you start pulling your dress down to try and hide your goosebumps. “Here” Mason’s saying, taking his jacket off and draping it over your shoulders. “Mase” you’re replying. Mase - he likes that, and he likes how naturally it’s left your mouth too. Trying to give it back to him but he’s adamant that you keep it. “Gives me another reason to see you in order to get it back” he winks, making you roll your eyes as you stand snuggled into his side on the edge of the pavement. 

“Did you want my number?” he’s asking, already taking his phone out of his pocket and holding it out in your direction before you even have chance to respond. “You’ve not really given me an option have you?” you laugh, making him giggle as he shuffles awkwardly from side to side, waiting for your digits to appear on the screen. “Only because I need to give your jacket back, there’s no other reason for this” you tell him, smiling as he nods his head but you both know that’s a little white lie. “There you go” you’re saying, passing his phone back to him as his eyes study the new contact in his hand. A new number written beneath Y/N. 

‘Shit’ he’s thinking. He didn’t even ask for your name before this. Awkward. 

“Pretty name” he smiles, trying to play it off cool, but you’re not drunk enough to not notice his mistake. “So pretty that you didn’t even know that’s what I was called until now” you reply, making him giggle and let out an awkward ‘oops’. “I’ll let you off this once” you’re saying as you look up at him stood beneath the lamppost that’s towering above the two of you. A golden glow adding a filter to his face and making him look even more gorgeous than he did when he was sipping his lemonade in the club and shoving lettuce and chicken into his mouth. And you’re desperate to just kiss him, especially since he’s got a bit of dried Fruit Shoot in the corner of his mouth and you know his lips will taste all sweet like they do in the movies. But considering he’s only just learnt your name you don’t think it’s the right time, and there’s also a bunch of Tottenham fans making their way up the street, not wanting to have to make him endure any teasing, especially when he’s already stayed up late in a part of town he wouldn’t usually be seen dead in to spend time with you. 

“Thanks for tonight” you whisper as you briefly rest your head on his shoulder, pulling it away when the taxi he’s ordered for you appears at the side of the curb. “My pleasure, thank you” he’s saying back, removing his protective hand from the small of your back and stepping forward to open the back door of the car for you. “Told you that you were a gent” you tease as he mumbles ‘shut up’ and pretends to shove you into the back seat with a giggle. “See you soon for that jacket, yeah?” he winks as you reply with ‘yeah yeah, whatever’, making him let out a little chuckle as he closes the door on you. Giving you an awkward little wave as you head off down the street, standing and waiting for your car to turn the corner before heading home himself. Leaving just a message of ‘thank you again, can’t wait to get my jacket back cose it’s freezing without it ;) x’ that’s just appeared on your screen connecting the two of you. And even if you have been slightly tipsy tonight and now can’t remember half of the things you spoke about, there genuinely doesn’t seem like a better person to sit in a kebab shop with in the early hours of the morning after stumbling across him by pure chance a club that neither of you particularly wanted to spend the night at. Thanking your lucky stars for allowing your paths to cross because you already know this is the start of something special. Very special.

[multiplefandomsblog]

Hajime x reader x Nagito NSFW and SFW headcanons

request; omg could you please (of course, only if it isn’t a bother) do the polyamorous SFW and NSFW headcanons like you did for kokichi and Shuichi with Hajime and nagito? gn! or fem! reader, please 🛐

Warnings; unedited, minor spoilers, long af, polyamory, anggggsssst, fluff, the timeline is bullshit, voyeurism, praise kink, degradation kink, orgasm denial/edging, cock warming, BDSM, gn!reader, I tried making the reader’s parts gender-neutral, anal, fingering, hair pulling, cum eating, mentions of choking

Note; I feel like I made this more different compared to the Shuichi and kokichi one, but I still hope you enjoyed it nonetheless, thank you for requesting! (i also had so many more things to add, but it was becoming quite long so I had to hold back a bit qwq)

- mod chia

•SFW•

◊ TSUNDERE HAJIME AHHH- I’m so sorry, I just had to.

◊ But yes, Hajime is absolutely the cutest tsundere ever.

◊ It’s especially amusing when you and Nagito both gang up on him, kissing or cuddling him randomly just to see him flustered. You’d both randomly start being super affectionate towards him, turning him red. A thing you and Nagito would do is lean on both sides of his shoulders at the same time, or hug him from the back and front. Maybe some cheek kisses from both sides, he loves those but he won’t tell you that.

◊ I headcanon Hajime to be a protective boyfriend. If he ever found out someone had been rude to you or Nagito, he would throw hands. He is willing to beat up anyone for the two of you, you can’t talk him out of it.

◊ Hajime would get jealous easily, as a result of his insecurity about his talentlessness. If he ever saw an ultimate putting the moves on either of you, he’d probably get uncomfortable and try to pull you away or be extra affectionate.

◊ He gets kind of upset and envious of the ultimates Nagito praises, it makes him wonder if you and Nagito preferred someone else that had talent. So please assure him that he’s everything you both want and more, he needs the confidence and comfort.

◊ If he felt particularly insecure one day, you’d both sandwich him in a cuddle and tell him how important he meant to the both of you. He would refuse at first, saying that he was alright and all, but you two don’t fall for it.

◊ As you two are always there for him, he’s always there for you too.

◊ If he’s ever stressed during a class trial and you or Nagito’s stadium was next to his, he’d instinctually hold hands with either of you, feeling his nerves calm down a bit at the reassuring squeeze. 

◊ He has a sense for when you two are feeling upset, he always knows when something is up because he has a ton of experience himself. So he can recognize all the symptoms because he’s seen them in himself.

◊ Hajime somehow always knows the right thing to say and the best stuff to give to you when you’re feeling down in the dumps. He always reassures you that no matter what, your feelings are valid and that you can always come to him or Nagito when you aren’t feeling like yourself. 

◊ I headcanon that Nagito has some trouble detecting when something is wrong, I feel like he’d be too blinded by how amazing you two were that he’d overlook some symptoms of something wrong, brushing it off. He wouldn’t really think about the fact that you two could have issues in the first place, as a result of him viewing you so highly.

◊ Nagito is a great listener if you ever want to talk, and he will provide the warmest cuddles if you need them. He isn’t great at comforting you or advice, but he will whisper the sweetest things in your ear when you’re feeling insecure. 

◊ Nagito is a pretty thoughtful boyfriend, he remembers everything about the two of you(i.e. Favourite food, flowers, colour, material, etc.) though he can’t even remember to take care of himself. 

◊ He remembers all of the things his loves enjoy, and getting them for you two makes him extremely happy. He spoils you both rotten even though Hajime insists he doesn’t have to, but he does anyway.

◊ Nagito sometimes thinks he intrudes between the relationship with you and Hajime, he has thoughts of leaving the both of you because he thinks your relationship would be better without him. He’d see you two being adorable with each other, and think of how lucky he is to have you two.

◊ Almost too lucky. He worries that his presence in the relationship will somehow harm both of you, he’s convinced that something terrible will happen. So he’s constantly paranoid around the both of you. With everything good that occurs, something terrible follows; That’s his ultimate.

◊ In the early stages of your relationship with him, he’s pretty distant, always trying to edge himself out so you two could be happier together. But you two would notice his behaviour, asking him what was wrong. 

◊ As he explained, your hearts broke from his reason as you both smothered him with love. Hajime would aggressively love him, telling him he shouldn’t think that and that you both would be extremely upset if he had left. 

◊ He’d cry from the affection he’d receive from the two of you, feeling incredibly grateful for the both of you. After that, he’d stop being distant, realizing that he was just being selfish and hurting his loves. He’d realize that he had been doing the opposite of making you guys happy, and all he wants is for you two to be happy.

◊ I headcanon that Hajime and Nagito both have a teensy bit of trouble initiating kisses or contact, you’d have to initiate most of it. Hajime being too awkward and a tad shy, whereas Nagito doesn’t feel worthy of your touch.

◊ Buuuut, Hajime can and will initiate affection if you tease him to the point where he just wants to shut you guys up with his lips. He’d kabedon you guys and everything.

◊ Nagito’s favourite thing to do to you both is cooking and giving gifts. He loves acts of service because it makes him happy to know that he’s making you two happy from what he’s doing. If you let him cook or do anything for you, he’d be extremely happy. All he wants to do is to please the both of you.

◊ It’s cute seeing him dance around in his little apron while he cooks, it leads to one of those rare moments where Hajime initiates a back-hug. You’d join shortly after, not wanting to miss out on the cuddles. Nagito would be pretty surprised, but he’d let you two cling onto him as he kept on cooking with a wide smile on his face.

◊ A thing Hajime unconsciously does is hold your guys’ hands, he doesn’t want you two to wander off and him to lose you. It’s kind of a mom’s instinct.

◊ A thing you like to do is steal both of their clothes, wearing them around the house as if they were yours. The boys love seeing you in their clothes, their hearts just melt from how adorable you look. Hajime would flush and then question you for it,

◊ “Why are you wearing my clothes?” You clenched your hands around his material, bringing it tighter around your body. “Because it smells like you.” Hajime rolled his eyes but didn’t tell you to take it off, “Y-you’re such a perv.” He walked away, “But I’m your perv, right? Right, Hajime??” 

◊ Nagito would question you for it, but for different reasons. “Ah yes, of course, you still look stunning in my garbage hoodie. Speaking of, why are you wearing my trash clothing? I can buy you your own hoodie, you know.” He walked up to you, tugging at the hem of his hoodie you were wearing, “Do you want me to take it off?” You teasingly pouted as Nagito panicked, “N-no! I mean… If you’d like to, it’s your choice. But if you decide to keep it on, I wouldn’t be upset- Hell! I’d never be upse-” You shut him up with a bear hug, “Don’t worry, I’m not even wearing anything underneath this in the first place.” “Oh. Haha, wait wha-”

•NSFW•

◊ I think Hajime secretly loves cockwarming but would never suggest it because he’s afraid you two might think it’s weird. During movies where one of you decide to sit on his lap, all he’s thinking of is sinking his dick inside either of you, walls squeezing around him comfortably.

◊ I headcanon Hajime to be a switch, it depends on his mood if he’d rather be a top or bottom. He goes along with you two are more comfortable with.

◊ I can imagine Hajime tied to the bedpost as you sink down on him, Nagito watching you both with his cock in his hand. Nagito joins after a while, Hajime looked so vulnerable, it’s alright if he’s selfish just this once right? He’d slip himself underneath Hajime, his dick sliding in Hajime’s ass as he cried out pleas and moans. 

◊ Hajime’s eyes would be rolling in the back of his head as you both bounced on and thrusted into him, the pleasure mind-numbing. He’d be drooling from the intense pleasure he received from the both of you, Nagito whispering praises on how good he felt around him whilst you lost your mind writhing and grinding against his dick. 

◊ I headcanon that Hajime wouldn’t really enjoy hardcore degradation, maybe some small stuff to make him submit, but any personal degrading turns him off.

◊ Now, I don’t think this is a popular opinion but, I can see Nagito getting off on degradation. You or Hajime could call him a slut, and he’d be cumming from words alone. He doesn’t really think about whether you truly feel that way about him, he goes into that mindset and he kind of forgets all of it, focusing solely on the pleasure he was giving to you two.

◊ Hajime likes being told he’s making you feel good, it reassures him that you’re actually enjoying it and it’ll get him to go harder and faster.

◊ When Hajime tops, I think Hajime wouldn’t really be a soft or hard dom, he’d just be in the sweet middle spot. He’d never go too far but he wouldn’t be too gentle with either of you. Ultimately, it depends on his mood. For example. If you both had provoked him beforehand to the point he was done, he would go feral and hard dom the shit out of you both, not even giving you a chance to breathe.

◊ It’s kind of hot when you see his face turn red and his neck pop a vein, but it’s even better when he starts releasing all that sexual frustration into you both.

◊ He’d have Nagito on his dick while Nagito sucked the life out of you. Nagito wouldn’t even have enough time to protest, Hajime would already have his tip teasing Nagito’s rim with Nagito’s head pushed down in between your thighs.

◊ He wouldn’t stop thrusting until he came, using you both for his pleasure and his pleasure only(kinda hot ngl). Even when he did feel either of you reach your high, he’ll pull away when you could practically taste it.

◊ He loves edging, the distress on your faces when he pulls away at that last moment gets him off in a sadistic way. 

◊ Though, he would never let you two go without an orgasm unless you or Nagito acted bratty even after the many punishments. He punishes the both of you until you two finally break and submit completely to the point where you had no brat left in you.

◊ Nagito’s praise kink is more giving than receiving, though he will never complain if you did praise him. It makes his heart full when you tell him how good he is, he’s glad he’s making you feel good. You two always make Nagito feel good, so he always makes sure to let you know how good you make him feel.

◊ It’s kind of hot when you see his face turn red and his neck pop a vein, but it’s even hotter when he comes back to release his frustrations into the both of you.

◊ Nagito definitely puts the pleasure of his loves first, he always makes sure you two cum before him. 

◊ Nagito wouldn’t insert his dick in either of you unless you begged for it, he doesn’t think he deserves the pleasure, he prioritizes both of your orgasms first.

◊ Nagito as a bottom would always ask before he could cum, he wants to be good for the two of you and never wants to disappoint you. He doesn’t even think he is worthy of an orgasm himself, so if you said yes, he would hysterically thank you as he gasped and whined from the intense pleasure his orgasm brought him.

◊ Nagito is very vocal during sex, and god bless because I think we all know that Nagito has the breathiest, sexiest moans.

◊ I headcanon Nagito to be the softest dom, I cannot imagine this man degrading or hurting you two in any way. He loves you two too much to hurt you, even if it’s for sexual purposes. Though he may sometimes accidentally(?) overstimulate you at times, losing himself in the moment. 

◊ Nagito as a bottom enjoys any humiliation, degradation, choking or pain you put him through, he loves it all. His sexual reactions are definitely the best, he makes the prettiest moans as you or Hajime insert kanye west loves fingers in his ass, drool trailing down his chin as he arched his back. 

◊ Hajime loves pulling hair as much as Nagito loves having his hair pulled. 

◊ Nagito mostly gets off by watching the two of you fuck, pleasuring himself as he watches the both of you with dilated pupils. You two often have to beckon him to join, eventually resorting to ordering him after his many refusals that you didn’t have to.

◊ A thing Nagito does after sex is licking up every single drop of cum you two had given him, not letting a tiny bit go to waste. He thinks your cum is ‘hopeful’ and it’s precious to him, so he doesn’t want to seem unthankful for the cum you gave him. He makes sure to lap you both up clean, maintaining eye contact as his tongue slides up your guys’ skin.

◊ Hajime’s hard dom demeanour changes completely after sex, however tired he may be, he always makes sure the both of you are alright after the rough treatment he had given the both of you before he passes out. 

◊ Nagito would praise the both of you after sex, holding both of you close as he let you doze off in his arms.

[farfromharry]

The one with homecoming | Peter’s girl

Summary: You accompany Mj to homecoming when Peter decides to go with Liz, but eventually end up comforting Peter after he gets into a large fight as Spiderman

Word count - 2,600

warnings - mentions of injuries, maybe some language?

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Homecoming was fastly approaching, and after the year you and your friends had had, you were more than excited. You were hoping that you and Mj could go together, as friends of course, no boys that would only serve to ruin your night with how irritating they were; yes, that included Ned and Peter.

“What if I asked Peter to Homecoming?” she said abruptly, breaking the comfortable silence you’d been in while eating together. You nearly choked on your food for multiple reasons. One, that was a very bold thing to do for Mj, and two, you really didn’t want her to go with Peter. She stared at you with wide eyes while you took a swig of your water to cool your burning throat, expecting some kind of explanation for that reaction.

“No, no boys,” you whined, hand reaching over to link your fingers with Mj’s across the table. “Let’s just go together.” She ignored the evident pleading and excitement in your eyes, the girl telling you that she really wanted to try her luck with Peter, finally find out if he likes her back. You were convinced your heart could have shattered right there, but you instead plastered a playful pout on your lips instead, showing your disapproval of the idea. “Still don’t think it’s a good idea,” you murmured, moreso under your breath so she wouldn’t hear you, retracting your hand from hers rather defeatedly.

“What was that?”

You opened your mouth to stutter out a response when you were thankfully saved by the bell, though not the actual bell, in this case it was a frantic and flustered looking Peter Parker. You and Mj shared a look of simultaneous confusion, watching as the boy took a seat opposite you, seeming quite out of breath.

“I need your help,” he said, trying to take a second to catch his breath before he explained what was going on.

“Why?” Mj asked, looking quite unimpressed that he’d interrupted your conversation, even if it was actually about him and her feelings for said boy. He took a deep breath, looking at you both with a tight lipped, nearsay awkward, smile.

“I just asked Liz to Homecoming.” For the second time in the span of such little time, you choked on your food, finding Peter’s words very difficult to believe. You stared at him with wide eyes, trying to figure out how this incredible socially awkward boy could ever ask the gorgeous, social butterfly of the school to a very crowded school event.

Mj could physically feel her heart sink and she nearly felt sick. However, like always she hid behind that same face of uninterest, feigning the idea that those words didn’t stab into her chest everytime they repeated over and over in her head.

“That’s amazing Pete, but I don’t know how we can help?” you said. You’d hoped the words would discourage him enough that he’d go ask Ned or something about all his questions, leaving you and the heartbroken Mj to not have to deal with this. But clearly he didn’t get the hint.

“I-I need you to help me with, you know, girls.”

You sighed, feeling Mj’s tense energy even from just sitting beside her, and part of you wondered how Peter couldn’t feel it too. But looking at the boy he looked so happy, practically glowing and flashing you that innocent smile that you didn’t know how to say no to. With another sigh you decided you’d do this yourself, you wouldn’t force Mj to sit and listen to you talk about how Peter can impress a girl that isn’t her.

“Why don’t you swing by my place tonight, I’ll uh, help you out.’ You mentally smiled to yourself at the accidental pun you’d thrown in there. Swing, Spiderman, get it?

“You’re a lifesaver Y/N, thank you,” he said, scattering away to probably go and tell Ned the good news.

Between you and Mj now was a very uncomfortable silence. You didn’t know if it was because you’d agreed to help Peter or if she was still dwelling on his date not being her, and the fact she didn’t even get to ask him first. Either way though you had no idea how to start a new conversation, the two of you sitting silently side by side. Thankfully this time you were saved by the literal bell, a muttered thank you coming from you.

“I’ll see you later,” you said, standing from your seat and offering her a warm smile which unfortunately wasn’t returned. “Whatever.”

»»——⍟——««

The build up to homecoming felt like hell for Mj. She’d voiced to you over the last week all her worries about having to watch Peter and Liz getting to be all lovey-dovey all night and your heart broke for her. You could tell even though she was opening up to you about this, she was still much more hurt by the idea than she was letting on and you’d never been more angry at the clueless boy.

You’d try to assure and reassure her plenty of times that what they got up two didn’t matter. The two of you were going to have fun and you were going to enjoy yourselves tonight without any more heartache. After all Peter was just a dumb high school boy.

When the actual night arrived the girl was freaking out more than you think you’d ever seen her freak out. Some part of her was convinced she had to look perfect just in case Peter so happened to glance her way at any point during the night.

So here you were helping her get ready. She’d bought a pretty dress and insisted on doing her hair the same way as usual after you tried another style and she decided she hated it. She’d obviously apologised for momentarily snapping at you but you’d understood she was feeling really stressed.

You knew what it was like to constantly try and impress someone and fail each and every time, so you couldn’t blame her attempts at trying.

It didn’t take too long for both of you to get ready, however Mj was quick to begin doubting herself as she stared in the mirror for too long. You could see the insecurity on her face and your heart panged with sympathy.

“You’re going to kill tonight,” you said. You could tell your words had an effect on her as she began to shyly play with her hands. You grinned to yourself, bringing her hands in yours and up to your mouth to press a sweet kiss onto her knuckles. “You’re so perfect,” you told her.

Of course you didn’t actually want Peter to realise what was right in front of him and date Mj, but you weren’t going to hurt her because of your own feelings.

“Well, we should head out while we still look hot,” you said, sending her a wink that had her rolling her eyes at you. She took your hand and watched as your smile grew wider as she led you out of your apartment. “Let’s go.”

»»——⍟——««

The night felt like it was flying by with the amount of fun you were having. After making sure Mj couldn’t keep her eyes on Peter she loosened up quite a bit. You’d actually managed to get the stubborn girl to dance with you a little bit, something that not a single part of you expected to happen.

It was only when moving to get another drink you saw Liz sitting alone on the bleachers, no Peter in sight. You tapped Mj’s shoulder to draw her attention to it, motioning over to the girl. If she was being honest, her first reaction was relief, relief that her crush wasn’t dancing the night away with a girl that wasn’t her.

But after a quick re-evaluation of her feelings, she felt a strand of sympathy grow for the girl, but only a really really miniscule one.

“We have to help her,” you reasoned, trying to talk some sense into your friend. With a hesitant answer she nodded, swallowing her hurt and pride and following you over to the bleachers where Liz looked as though she was ready to cry.

She saw the two of you approach and offered you both a weak smile, having no protest to you taking a seat beside her.

“Are you okay?” you asked. She chuckled quietly, probably at herself for getting so worked up over a teenage boy, but nevertheless shook her head.

“He left. He said he was sorry and left.”

She truly did sound hurt by his actions, and you were mentally cursing Peter for hurting yet another sweet girl that didn’t deserve his stupidity.

“Where did he go?” you asked, trying to console the girl. She just shrugged, resting her head on your shoulder sadly as Mj watched the two of you. You rubbed your hand up and down Liz’s back, sending your best friend a warning glare as you saw the way her eyes sparkled. Whether it was out of hope or happiness, neither were appropriate right now.

Part of Mj really was happy that Peter had abandoned Liz. She’d told you that the only thing that could possibly ruin tonight was having to watch them together the whole night when she desperately wished it was her.

“I’m sorry Liz,” she said, pushing her feelings aside to try and be the bigger person. The girl nodded, flashing Mj a sad smile as she brought her hands up to wipe any stray tears.

“I think,” she started, drawing your and Mj’s attention to her. “I think I’m just going to go home.”

Your anger towards Peter only increased with Liz’s words. “Are you sure? You can stay with us if you’d like,” you offered. You could feel Mj’s glare burning into your side as you said the words and the girl was sure she’d cry if Liz was to agree to your suggestion.

Luckily for her though, Liz was quick to deny, telling you both that she really would prefer to go home than keep getting stares of pity and feel this deep sense of embarrassment. It isn’t everyday that someone gets stood up by a ‘nerd’ like Peter Parker, especially not someone like Liz Allan.

The two of you watched as she left the gym, ignoring the stares of nosey teenagers.

As soon as the doors were closed again you turned your full attention to Mj. “I’m proud of you,” you whispered, leaning your head on her shoulder. She sighed, shaking her head but leaning it on top of yours anyway.

“I was being selfish-“ she tried to argue. “But you did the right thing in the end,” you said, wrapping your arms around her in a comforting way. You felt the way the apples of her cheeks pressed against your head more defined and you just knew she was smiling at your words.

“Now, let’s go enjoy our night.”

»»——⍟——««

You were over the moon by the time you got back to your apartment that night. Your parents had made you tell them all about it and you could hardly contain your excitement from the night you’d spent dancing away with Mj. But overall, you were still exhausted and you were ready to just crawl into your bed and sleep for the next few hours.

You entered your room with your smile still permanently stuck on your face, closing the door behind you and pressing your back to the wood as you tried to calm your excitement from the night.

You didn’t expect someone to already be in your room, sitting on your bed to be exact. You flipped on the light and nearly had a heart attack upon seeing the suited boy sitting there, clutching his ribs with a pained expression on his face.

“Peter, oh my god,” You shrieked, trying to keep your voice down so you didn’t alert your parents. The boy’s face was beaten black and blue and from the way he was walking and clutching at his stomach, the rest of him wasn’t much better. “What happened to you?” you asked, rushing over to him to take a close look at his injuries. You could see the tears forming in his waterline and your heart ached for him, carefully wrapping your arms around him.

“Come on,” you said, leading him to your bathroom, a very familiar occurrence recently. Neither of you spoke while you tended to the cuts on his face. You wanted to let him tell you what happened when he was ready, plus you didn’t exactly feel like talking as you tried to quickly come down from the excitement of the night.

Your eyes caught sight of his hand resting in his lap, the skin split on his knuckles that had you wincing at the sight.

“Your hand,” you pointed out, noticing the slight burn marks on his skin when his hand shifted. He shook his head, telling you to ignore it and just help with his face. You tended to his busted lip and the cut right on his cheekbone, wiping away as much blood and dirt as you could.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

His eyes were burning holes into yours while you worked on him, noticing the concerned glint every time he’d hiss or wince at some pressure.

“No,” he whispered, the tears from earlier beginning to spill over his cheeks. You cooed quietly, pulling him back into you just so you could hold him. After tonight you were sure Mj would explode seeing the way you were holding Peter, and you felt guilty even if your actions were incredibly innocent. You wouldn’t dream of hurting her like that.

“What happened?” you asked, in the softest voice you could muster. You lightly guided his chin so he was looking into your eyes, his big doe eyes making him look like a lost puppy.

“This is going to sound insane, but,” he laughed to himself. “I- I was fighting Liz’s dad.”

He watched as your eyes widened in shock, your body freezing as you tried to process the words he’d just said. He tried to answer as many of your questions as he could before you even opened your mouth, knowing exactly what was already going through your head.

“Well, do you remember Liz’s party when you saw me on the roof?” It took a lot of explaining from Peter. But he eventually managed to tell you the entire story, right from the alien weapons the night of the party to taking him down and handing him over to the cops. You were surprised but you were sure these were the kinds of things you were going to have to get used to knowing his secret.

Conversation was quick to die down afterwards, neither of you knowing what else to say on the matter, but the thought of Liz after he left her in the gym was eating him alive.

“Did she seem mad?” he asked, timidly. Of course you knew who he was talking about straight away. You thought back on the night and even though it wasn’t the answer he wanted, you had to shrug your shoulders. “She was upset,” you said.

You heard him sigh beside you. “Did I really screw this up?” he asked, laying his head on your shoulder. You sighed, resting your head on top of his, much like how Mj had done to you earlier this afternoon. You weren’t planning on sugar coating this for him. “Yeah, you did.”

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peter’s girl taglist → @sunsetholland @captainamirica @tomsirishgirlx @givebuckyhisplumsnow @lou-la-lou @slutforsr @tayyx @gog0juice @minejungwoo @creatorofthegalaxy @annathesillyfriend @paninipress @bvttercupbby @peterswebshooters @whoeveniskendall @itsallyscorner @hoodpankow @sunwardsss @hallecarey1 @writingrem @mamaparker28 @n0eliii @lovehollandy12 @ifyouknewhowmiserylovedme

[fatiguing-thoughts]

Change of Heart - Paul Lahote x Reader

Request: “Hey, since you don't feel comfortable writing about the poly imprinting thing the other anon suggested, I have an idea based on what they said that maybe you could write instead. So instead of the reader imprinting on both, a reaction type of thing for when the reader had a crush on one, but falls in love with the other with time. If it is preference style, you can get to show both situations (crush on Embry, but falls for Paul later and vice versa)”

this is the crush on Embry -> falling in love with Paul version

Having a mother who was obsessed with the beach was the reason that your life turned out the way it did. 

That’s where you met your best friend, Embry Call. 

His mother worked at the souvenir shop, she frequently brought him to the beach as well. So time after time of running into each other and playing together as kids-- you grew up hanging out all the time. 

Despite you living and going to school in Forks, you guys saw each other at minimum three times a week. And as you got older, you only hung out more. Even into young adulthood.

You guys did everything together. School dances when your moms forced you into going, going to see the movies either of you were dying to watch, and simply hanging around doing nothing. It was like you were dating, but if dating meant that you were merely best friends. No kissing, the awkward touching of hands here and there. 

But overall, you and Embry connected deeper than anyone else. You would stay up talking all night, picking the brains of one another’s minds. Listening to music together, singing your favorite songs. Sometimes you stared a little too long at his lips, but that was besides the point. You guys were friends. 

I had grown quite the crush on Embry, but I knew deep down that it wouldn’t be worth risking the friendship. I could never risk anything awkward between us. I have never felt this comfortable around another person before, and I doubt that I would find it again. So holding Embry close to my heart as a best friend was an idea that I was well acquainted with. I’d grown to accept it. 

Though, as time went on, he began to gain some newer friends, which was normal. What high school boy didn’t hang out with other boys? The only issue was, it seemed to tear into your Embry time. 

It was fine, really. Embry’s happiness was my top priority. But when he finally introduced me to his friends, I’ll admit I felt pretty excited. To finally meet some new people, to find friendship in those other than Embry. 

Embry was always my best friend, but it wouldn’t hurt to have a bigger circle. He spoke so highly of them all, how could I not be thrilled to meet them? 

So when I did, I could say that I was both incredibly nervous, yet excited. 

“They’re gonna love you.” He reassures me on our way to Jake’s house. 

“How do you know that?” I ask, fiddling with the rip in my jeans.

“Because, I love you. You’re the best friend anyone could ask for. They’re gonna think you’re a lot of fun and super cool, because you are.” He smiles that signature Embry Call grin. 

Friend. Ugh. Get it together, (Y/N). 

“Thank you, Em.” I smile back.

“Of course.” 

The drive to Jacob’s was quick from Embry’s considering they both lived in La Push. Pulling up into the house, Embry led me into the garage where they were working on Jacob’s project car, the rabbit. Embry would never shut up about it, his eyes brighter than the sun whenever he talked about how much fun it was, how he enjoyed finally being able to exercise his mechanic skills. 

“Hey guys, this is (Y/N). (Y/N), this is Jacob, Jared, Quil, and Paul. We have a few classes together.” He points at them as he says their names. 

“Hi.” I wave shyly. 

“(Y/N), I know you haven’t been here yet, but don’t worry. I’ll quickly become your favorite. Don’t stress.” Quil walks over, putting his arm around your shoulder and chuckling. 

“Oh great, thanks.” I roll my eyes. “You really weren’t kidding, Em. He’s nuts.” I giggle. 

“Wow, okay. Thanks for putting in a good word, Embry.” Quil laughs, walking back to where he stood. 

I quickly found myself growing comfortable, no wonder why Embry found good company in these guys. They were all so nice, so down to Earth. 

One in particular caught my attention, Paul. He was handsome, well built for his age. He seemed to be just as friendly as the rest, too. 

I watched as Embry and Jake worked on the engine, peering over the side of the hood. 

“Do you know anything about cars?” A charming voice rings out behind me. 

I turn over my shoulder and see Paul, I felt a blush begin to rise to my cheeks. Why did he get me so flustered for absolutely no reason?

“Uh, yeah. A little bit. Embry talks my ear off about them, plus I have some cars I like myself. But mechanical wise, they run circles around me.” I smirk. 

“Nice. They’re teaching me a lot more, I’m probably at the same level you’re at.” He chuckles, his deep brown eyes piercing into mine. 

“No you’re not, (Y/N) still runs circles around you. I’m the best teacher around.” Embry teases. 

“Well, you heard it here first. Looks like I know more than you about cars.” I tease.

“Might have to teach me some stuff some time.” He smirks. 

I felt the blush creeping onto my cheeks again, so I bent my head down, glancing down at my feet, before returning his gaze. 

“Maybe.” 

Embry looks between us, discomfort slightly showing on his face, which left me a bit confused. 

The drive back to my house was a bit awkward. 

“Is everything okay?” I ask.

“I just... I got the vibe that you and Paul hit it off really well. Which would be fine, but he’s a bit of a... player. I just, I don’t want you to go through that. He’s a great friend, but he’s not a good boyfriend.” Embry gently tells me, looking into my eyes with his chocolate brown ones. 

“I see.” I swallow, looking out the window.

I was unsure of what to say. Paul seemed like a nice guy, but Embry wouldn’t steer me wrong. 

Over the next few weeks, I began to spend more and more time with them all. I grew to adore them more than I ever thought I would, they were just as important to me as Embry was now, my romantic feelings finally subsiding for him. Quil quickly became the impish friend that Embry told me he’d be, Jared was an absolute clown, Jake was beyond friendly, very caring. 

And well Paul... Paul was someone that really left me blushing almost constantly. He hung onto every word that left my mouth, and I did the same for him. He was sweeter than sugar to me, even if he was less of that to the rest of the group and everyone else. He had a certain softness in his voice, in his body language with me. Paul talked to me like I was the only person in the room, but Embry’s warning loomed over me like clouds over the rainy Forks sky. 

As time went on, Embry warned me again. He even spoke to Paul about it, apparently. Paul had told me about it one night while we were talking just the two of us. We begun to hang out just the two of us, yet I never let him call it a date as per Embry’s warning. 

While he was at first surprised I wouldn’t go on a date with him, he was persistent because he knew how I felt. He knew the connection we had. He was upset that I always reciprocated the flirting, but was always far too hesitant to make any larger moves. 

“Embry, I haven’t seen any other girls since you brought her to hang out.” 

“I don’t know Paul... I don’t want (Y/N) to be the same as every other girl for you.”

“She’s not, she’s different. You know that. I really like her, I never felt this before. She won’t say yes unless you’re okay with it.” 

“Don’t make me regret this, Paul.” 

“You won’t.” 

Paul would hold my hand when I would get scared during horror movie night. He would pick me up for hangouts for the pure fact that he could drive me home, despite me being able to drive and having my own car. He would give me his hoodies when I would grow cold, whispering about how they looked better on me than him. Paul grew protective over me, always making sure that every adventure we took together, he would be there to make sure I stayed in one piece due to my clumsiness. Paul truly thought I was this fragile piece of glass that could shatter at any moment. 

 He would surprise me with my favorite drink from Starbucks when I was having a rough day at work. The way he would always have to touch me, whether that be resting an arm around my shoulder, holding my hand, or resting a hand on my thigh or lower back. All of the above sending my nerves in a frenzy. He was protective, slightly jealous. He didn’t like when guys checked me out, so he made it known I was his when he would press a kiss to my lips, then smirking at them, pulling me into him. 

 I loved the feeling of when he would pull me into his lap, his strong arms wrapping around me. The way he held me at night, like I was the only thing that mattered in the world-- it was a beautiful feeling. It was crazy to hear the stories of the hot-headed boy, because with me he wasn’t like that. He was patient, kind, and loving to no end. Did he have his moments where his temper would flare up? Of course. Everyone does, but I tried to help him get to where he wanted his temper to be. We worked on new ways to cope, we made a lot of progress for him. 

He was everything you could ask for in a guy, he was nothing Embry warned me about. Everyone noticed that Paul had softened immensely, he was calmed down. He was “whipped” according to the guys, which I didn’t stop him from kicking Jacob’s ass for that one. 

“Damn, Paul. (Y/N) trained you well.” Quil teases, only to be pulled into a headlock.

Our first kiss was sweet, it was gentle. Paul’s large hands held my face like he was holding the most fragile thing in the world. He treated me like a princess. 

“Wanna go get lunch before we hang out with everyone? I’m buying.” He offers. 

“Sure, but you’re not buying my lunch.” I giggle over the phone. 

“Why not? It’ll be a date.” He chimes. 

“I don’t know... What’s in it for me?” 

“Uh, going on a date with the hottest and sweetest guy in all of La Push.” 

“Oh, Jacob’s taking me on a date?” I tease, knowing that would drive him a little nuts. 

“You’re gonna be the death of me, (Y/N) (Y/L/N).” He chuckles into the phone. 

“I just might be, when’re you picking me up, Lahote?” I giggle. 

“I’m actually outside already. Surprise.” 

So we went out to lunch, and it was really fun. It always was a fun time with Paul. Going to hang out with the guys was great, though something was off with Jared. He played it off, continuing to tease Paul and I. 

Embry grew to support Paul and I, though he told me he was my second pair of eyes. He was watching Paul like a hawk, hoping he wouldn’t break my fragile heart. 

But when Jared got sick with mono and stopped coming around, I had to be there for him. He was beyond hurt when he saw Jared hanging out with Sam Uley. Why would he up and leave the group? No explanation, nothing. Jared avoided all of us like the plague.

Paul was devastated. That was his best friend, how could Jared lie to him? How could he ditch him like it was nothing?

The issue was, is that Paul had a hard time expressing his emotions. Even though he was sad about the situation, he grew to be angry. He would huff and puff, pacing the room, yelling about how Jared was being an asshole and how he had no idea what to do. 

It was fine, really. You knew that he was going through the ringer and he still treated you like a princess. 

“I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t even realize how much I was yelling.” He would apologize, walking over to you sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting for him to calm down after your attempts to do so were futile. 

“I understand, you’re going through a rough time right now. But I’m here for you.” I smile, pressing a kiss to his lips. 

“I love you.” He presses his forehead against mine.

“I love you, too.” 

Chills ran up my spine, I had felt butterflies like never before. Paul gave me feelings I never knew existed.  

But soon, he grew feverish. His skin was burning hot and he grew testy. He snapped at everyone, and seemingly for the littlest of things. I thought it was strange, as this was a side of Paul I had never seen. We had to leave Jake’s one night, as he grew incredibly protective over me... almost animalistic. He almost lost it on Quil when he started play fighting with me, I just took him out of there, leaving the guys in the garage. I was met with concerned eyes all around, but I knew Paul wouldn’t hurt me... I just had no idea what had gotten into him. 

He held onto me like his life depended on it. 

“I’m scared, (Y/N).” He whispered into my neck. 

“Why Paul?” 

“Jared and Sam... they look like they’re waiting for me. I can’t stand it-- they’re hovering over me all the time. I can’t deal with it.” He huffs. 

His feverish skin almost burning mine, just as it had been the last few days. 

“I’m sorry Paul, maybe try to avoid them?” I offer up my advice, but it met with a mere sigh from his lips. 

“They keep telling me I have to break away from everyone. That I’ll have to leave the friend group, that I’ll have to leave you. They’re lucky I didn’t kick their asses.” He huffs. 

His words shocked me, they left me speechless. Why would they be saying that?

“Why would they say that?” 

“Hell if I knew. I just ran out of there before I punched someone. I know you don’t like when I hit people.” He chuckles.

“I’d rather you didn’t.” I smirk.

But I couldn’t shake his words, I didn’t understand why they wanted him? Why they wanted him to cut us all off? 

He soon fell asleep while I rubbed circles into his back, trying to soothe him once again. I heard my phone go off on the table next to me. 

It was Embry asking if I was okay, to which I told him yeah. He didn’t need to know the worries plaguing my brain. 

But the next few days, Paul got sicker. He started changing before my eyes, growing insanely fast. His body temperature continued to climb. He told me that Sam and Jared wouldn’t leave him alone, but he was only getting angrier at them and holding onto me tighter. 

“They keep saying they don’t want me to hurt you.” He would sigh, his face visibly distressed. 

And then told me that I couldn’t see him for a while. He cut off all the guys completely, and I hadn’t heard from him since; he wasn’t even answering my texts. 

Embry was worried sick about me, despite everyone being upset at Paul’s sudden change and departure from our lives. He would come and check up on me, absolutely stunned to see the shifting moods I had. 

One minute, I was fine and 110% certain that Paul wouldn’t up and leave with no warning, and the next I was a blubbering mess. Embry did his best to make sure that I wasn’t left alone for too long, as he was afraid I would become the next comatose Bella Swan. I mean, kudos to him for caring but that wouldn’t happen. Or maybe just yet, as the longer Paul was gone the less I seemed to care about anything else. It just felt like a part of me was gone, like the puzzle piece fitting my heart together was missing. 

So a few days later, I made some of his favorite soup and made my way over to his house. 

I knocked on the door, but there was no answer. It was locked so I couldn’t let myself in, but I knew where Paul’s bedroom window was. I peeked through and saw him peacefully sprawled out on his bed, the sight bringing both relief and a smile to my face. But then I heard some whooping noises from the back of his house, causing me to investigate. 

I look and see none other than the infamous Sam Uley and Jared Cameron, he looked very different since the last time I had saw him. It felt like forever ago since that night. 

“(Y/N), what’re you doing here?” Sam asks with a concerned tone. 

“I needed to see Paul.” I demand.

“Go home, (Y/N). He doesn’t want you to come around anymore, he doesn’t want to be with you anymore.” Jared looks deep into my eyes, his words punching me in the gut. 

His eyes were hard, as were his features, but I knew he was full of shit. But the words still hurt for just a second. For just a second.

“What the hell are you guys doing to him?” I look at them with eyes set to kill. 

“What? What did he tell you?” Jared asks, eyes widening with concern. 

“Calm down.” Sam urges, putting a hand out in front of Jared. 

“He won’t tell me anything anymore.” I hiss. “But before he stopped answering me he was so afraid of you guys! Always following him around, telling him what to do. Telling him to stay away before he hurts me! Paul would never hurt me, asshole!” 

I was fuming now, but I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t stop myself. Paul was a tough guy, nothing really broke him like their warnings and constant following did. The sudden changes he was experiencing, he had no idea of what to make of it as he was given no answers. 

“I watched him change in front of my very eyes, this is beyond some bullshit about him wanting to leave me, Jared. This is not normal.” I stomp my way over to them. 

“(Y/N), stay back.” Sam’s hand gestures up to me. “Jared, calm down.” 

“Sam, don’t. I’m done with this, I want my boyfriend back. Jared, what the hell got into you, too?” I raise my voice at him, causing him to flinch. 

“Hello? Earth to Jared Cameron? What’s your deal now, asshole?” I yell again, poking his bare chest. 

But that’s when rage took over Jared’s body. Something I had never seen before. Jared was always goofy, so nice. I had really only seen Paul so angry, and even then-- this was a different level. 

“(Y/N), move back now.” Sam yells. 

This time, I listened. I took some hesitant steps back, almost tripping over my own feet. 

Jared’s body was almost vibrating at this point, that’s how fast it was shaking. I just stared in awe, Sam’s voice was booming, though. 

“(Y/N), move back!” He yells again. 

I bring myself to take a few more steps back, but this time I did trip over my feet.

Jared suddenly moved like he was bursting out of his own skin, and in some way he did. Sam pushed him back to create some more distance, but overall in the end-- Jared turned into an enormous wolf. An enormous wolf that snarled at me, but overall didn’t do anything to hurt me. 

“What the hell?” I blink my eyes, before running towards Paul house. 

That’s when I see Paul running towards the situation. 

“Paul, run!” I say, trying to grab a hold onto him, but he gently, but very quickly, shook me off. 

He too, burst out of his own skin, turning into a giant wolf. 

“What?” I whisper to myself.

I watch as Paul jumps onto Jared, listening to their snarls and growling. I stared astonished, as Sam looks over at me with sympathetic eyes. 

After a few moments, Sam orders them to stop. And they did, they walked into the woods and came out with some jean shorts on. 

“Come here.” Sam says, helping me off the ground. 

“Is this... is this what was going on?” I breathe out.

“Yeah, you’re gonna learn a lot today.” He sighs, clearly unhappy about me knowing. 

“I’m sorry.” Jared exhales. “It’s hard to control your anger when this starts, and then I had to lie and everything. I’m just sorry.” He smiles softly. 

“All good, understood now.” I smirk. 

Though I was still uneasy. What did all this mean?

“Paul?” I merely whisper, looking up at his face. 

He had grown a lot, got even more muscular since I had last seen him. But he refused to meet my gaze. 

“Paul, please look at me.” I beg, reaching out to grab his forearm.

He hesitates, almost afraid to. 

“Paul if you think I’m afraid of you, I’m not. Please look at me.” My pleading voice almost cracking. 

I needed to see those deep brown eyes I had loved so much. The ones that brought me endless joy, endless love. But he wouldn’t budge. 

“That’s not what I’m afraid of right now.” He chuckles sadly. 

He was still looking over my head, refusing to meet my gaze.

 “You owe it to the both of you to figure it out, Paul.” Sam nods. 

“What? What’re you talking about.” I turn to Sam. 

But as I turn my head to look back at Paul, I finally caught his gaze. A small smile crept on his face, until our eyes met. 

That’s when his jaw fell slack, his face completely softened. It was like he was stuck in a daze of sorts. 

But what I felt was good. I felt like the world had stopped spinning, I felt like Sam and Jared were gone, it was only Paul and I. I couldn’t tear my eyes away as this overwhelmingly great feeling pressurized around my entire body. This was something far more intense than what Paul and I usually had felt, and even before I thought we had intense feelings. 

No, this was different. 

I had no idea how to even stand anymore, I felt like my knees were going to give out.

“Finally, some good news.” Jared huffs, grabbing both of us out of our trance. 

“Okay, please explain things.” I look back to Paul. 

“Okay.” He breathes a sigh of relief, before he pulls me into a rib crushing hug, spinning me around. 

I felt the air leave my lungs, this actually hurt. He sometimes accidentally hugged me too hard, but this was surreal. 

My breath hitched as I whimpered out and “ow” which caused Paul to quickly let go, profusely apologizing. 

“Sorry, I forget my own strength. Still not completely used to it.” 

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

“Okay, so let me get this straight. Vampires run rampant through Forks and the rest of the Olympic Peninsula? Right, so that’s what made you guys phase. And then you can’t be around people for a while because it’s an enormous secret that only the pack and their imprints can know. And Paul imprinted on me, but I still don’t know what that exactly means, but we can go over that. But then, you guys protect everyone from said vampires and destroy them. Now you’re super warm and strong and the rest of the group you expect to join soon? Because you all have it in your blood?” I ask, looking at Sam.

“Well, you seem to really listen. But yes, It’s likely that Quil and Jacob will, we don’t know so much about Embry but it’s possible. Has he been acting strange?” Sam raises an eyebrow. 

“He texted me about a fever earlier, but he’s been normal enough.” 

“Well, you suddenly disappearing might set him off.” Jared chuckles. 

“What? I can’t see him anymore?” 

“Not until he phases, any of them. The secret is important.” Sam looks at me with empathetic eyes, Paul’s hand immediately resting on my lower back. 

“I have to disappear out of my best friends’ lives? I don’t even phase!” 

“It doesn’t matter, it’s too much of a risk right now. Over time, we’ll see what happens.” 

My heart sank, how would they forgive me for disappearing indefinitely? For blowing them off? I was growing anxious at the thought. 

“They’ll forgive you when they understand, it just takes time.” Sam nods. 

“Okay.” I whisper. 

“Alright, Paul. Explain imprinting.” Jared smirks, looking over at us. 

“Right now?” Paul looks at Sam, but Sam only nods his head, signaling for him to begin explaining. 

“Paul? Just talk to me, we always talk about anything and everything.” I lay my hand on his comfortingly. 

He seemingly melted at my touch, just as always.

“Well, the thing is, it’s not our choice. And I want you to hear me out before you say anything, please.” 

“Of course.” I grew nervous at his words, but I knew that was nervous, too.

“Well, so it happens to some of us, not all of us get so ‘lucky,’ if you will. It happens when you see a certain person for the first time after you phase. When you look into their eyes, it’s just... it’s pure bliss. You just know, you know it’s your soulmate. But, that doesn’t mean romantic, it could be platonic. In reality, it’s up to them. But for us, you’d do anything, be anything for them. A friend, protector, a lover. We just... we need to be near them. I need to be near you, and I always did, even before all of this complicated shit. I was always protective, but I can’t imagine I’ll ease up, it’ll probably get worse so I’m sorry in advance, but overall, I want you to know that you hold the reigns.” He softly smiles, looking into my eyes with a pleading look.

“Oh, I see.” I murmur, looking down at my hand for a second, trying to process the situation. 

His face fell, and it looked like someone punched him in the gut, Jared and Sam grew a bit worried. 

“Wait, that wasn’t me rejecting you. I’m just... I’m thinking. It’s just a lot to take in. I love you, more than anything. I’m glad it was me and not someone else, I am. As long as you’re happy about that. But I just need to understand it. I feel a physical pull to you, so I feel it, too.” I smile softly, thinking about when he refused to look into my eyes. 

“I’m very happy that it was you.” He grabs onto my hand.

“So why didn’t you want to look into my eyes?” I mumble. 

“Because I didn’t want to bare the thought of it not happening with you, though I don’t think I could change anything about us, ever. Imprint or not, (Y/N), you’re stuck with me.” He chuckled. “But only if you want me.” 

“Of course I want you.” I nudge his shoulder. 

After that, it was just playing the waiting game, waiting for my best friends to phase, too. I was left with so many calls and texts I couldn’t answer. Embry showing up to my house, knocking to no avail. Leaving, sadness deep in his eyes. Though, he eventually became angry. I knew he was going to phase soon, I watched from afar how he was growing more hostile, and how he was changing physically. Soon, I’d have my best friend back. 

Paul was right, he grew more protective, more worried about my every move. It was clear to us all that he was more protective than Sam and Jared were over Emily and Kim. It was easier to understand everything with Kim and Emily being apart of this all, as they knew where I was coming from. 

But, it was the waiting game that was killing me. Thankfully, Paul was around to pick up the pieces after leaving my best friends behind, no notice given. He held me when I grew sad, feeling guilty for having to leave their lives. 

Paul was unwavering, loving me endlessly.  __________________________________ Word Count: 4796

[waitimcomingtoo]

Cellophane

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Synopsis: Tom comes right unexpectedly right when you’re about to leave him

Inspired by Cellophane

Masterlist

You cleaned up the remainder of cups and plates from the night before with a heavy heart. Your suitcase was packed and stored away in the closet, ready to be taken at any moment. The rest of your things were already in your new apartment where you hoped you’d find some long awaited peace. The door opening startled you and the sight of Tom in the doorway startled you even more. There was no way he had come home when you were about to leave him.

“Darling?” He called out before he spotted you.

“Tom? You’re home?” You asked in disbelief.

“Don’t sound so surprised.” He chuckled as set his bags down. “I told you I’d be home today.”

“I know, you just,” you struggled with a nice way to put it, “you rarely come home when you say you will.”

“Oh.” He replied, a little surprised by what you had said. “Sorry.”

He pecked you briefly on the lips, an awkward dance neither of you really wanted to do but felt obligated to. You gave him a tight smile and squeezed his arm.

“It’s fine.” You said and a silence settled between you. “Um, how was your flight?”

“It was good, yeah.” He nodded and the silence returned.

“Cool, cool.” You spoke softly and let your eyes trail from his face to the garbage bag you had been putting cups and plates in.

“Were you cleaning?” He pipped up and you felt relieved that he kept the conversation going.

“Yeah, yeah. AJ’s party went pretty late and I didn’t feel like cleaning last night.”

“AJ? You’re throwing parties for other boys when I’m away?” Tom laughed awkwardly and folded his arms. “Who is he?”

“She is my best friend who’s moving to San Diego.” You corrected. “Her going away party was last night.”

“Oh. I didn’t know.” He replied and scratched the back of his neck.

“I told you last week.” You said, but not bitterly. You were too tired to be bitter about it.

“Must’ve slipped my mind.” He smiled weakly.

“Right.”

You both knew you’d told him about AJ before, the same way you both knew he hadn’t been listening. The energy of the room was incredible uncomfortable and Tom found himself feeling like he had just been left alone with a stranger rather than his girlfriend.

“Place looks great.” He said suddenly at the same time you said “You look tan.”

“Sorry. You first.” He gestured to you.

“No, go ahead.” You shook your head and let him continue.

“I was just saying that the place looks great. There’s no clutter or anything. I guess we know who makes the messes.” He tried to poke fun at himself but you didn’t even crack a smile. As he looked around, he noticed how unhappy empty the place was. He chalked it up to being away for a long time and tried to push it from his mind.

“Haha, yeah.” You faked a laugh and averted your eyes.

“It looks a little empty, actually.” He commented when he realized the things missing were the things only you used. “Where are all your things?”

You looked fearful for a moment and stopped collected cups. Tom looked at your curiously when he noticed your anxious expression.

“I need to talk to you about something.” You said quietly and set the garbage bag on the ground.

“Okay.” Tom nodded and gave you his full attention. You searched his face for a moment as you chewed your bottom lip, trying to figure out a way to phrase what you had to say.

“I want you to stop talking about our relationship to the media.” You admitted and Tom was taken aback.

“What?” He laughed in surprise. “Darling, I have to. They love it.”

“It’s just, some things are really special to me and I don’t like seeing them on the cover of a magazine next to a photo of us that I didn’t even know was being taken.” You confessed. “You know I like my privacy but now I have people following me around, trying to get a story on you. Or on us.”

“They just want to get to know you.” He dismissed your argument and went to get a glass of water.

“No they don’t. They don’t care about me. They care about us.” You followed him in the kitchen to continue the conversation. “They want to see us when we think we’re alone or how we act when we’re apart, it’s like we have no privacy anymore.”

“That’s just how it is, darling.” He tried to explain. “You’re a person of interest right now because we’re together.”

“But to them, I’m not even a person, Tom. They reduced me to an appendage of your career and you let them.” You expressed. “No one says my name. I’m your girlfriend. I am nothing but your girlfriend.”

“Darling, that’s not true.” He shook his head and took a sip of his water.

“I know it’s not. You’d come home to see me if I were your girlfriend. You’d make time for me and check up on me if I were your girlfriend. You’d be sleeping in our bed in our house and not some random hotel every night if I were your girlfriend.” You snapped, much to Toms surprise. “But I’m not, am I? I’m just a photo op.”

“I love you. You know that.” He protested and set his cup down now that he realized this was serious conversation.

“I hope that. I pray that. But I do not know that.” Your said tearfully. “You’re not around enough for me to know that.”

“This isn’t fair, Y/n. You know I have to travel and be away from home a lot. You knew that when you got into this. It’s my job.” He defended his position.

“And this is your relationship.” You stated firmly. “This is the place you come home to. This is your future wife. This is where your children are gonna grow up. Why is that second to your job?”

“It’s not.”

“Isn’t it?” You asked. “The only time I hear you say you love me is in interviews. You don’t tell me that you miss me, but you tell reporters? How come your fans and I have to hear it at the same time?”

“What do you want from me? Do you want me to quit my job?” He shrugged helplessly and looked at you for answers.

“I just want to feel you’re there.” You said quietly and rested your hands on his chest. He realized how much he missed your touch and put his hands over yours. “I want to know I have someone out there who loves me, and who misses me. I don’t feel that, Tom. I don’t feel your love.”

“Of course I love you. How can you say I don’t?” He asked painfully as he clutched yours hands against his heart.

“How can you say that you do?” You leaned closer to whisper. “I don’t want to have to share our love. I don’t want to live my life in a glass box so people can get a perfect image of Tom Holland’s girlfriends. And I definitely don’t want to be able to look up every detail of our relationship in some article. These moments mean something to me. They’re not headlines, they’re my life.” You took your hands off him and pointed to yourself. “But you put our feelings for each other out there, all wrapped in cellophane for everyone to see.”

“It’s not my fault that people want to know about my love life. The media wants to know about everyone’s love life.”

“But you don’t have to tell them. You never had to tell them.” You exclaimed, angry once again. “But you did. And now I have people watching my every move to see if I deserve you.”

“Am I not supposed to talk about my girlfriend? Would you prefer if I pretended you didn’t exist? How would that make you feel?” He raises his voice at you and stepped closer, making you back up.

“Don’t you dare try to blame me. You did this.” You shot back. “You made our relationship the public’s business and now they think they have a say in it. Every little thing we do, they hate me for it and praise you.”

“The media watches all celebrity couples.l he whined and rubbed his face. “It’s not personal, darling.”

“It is personal. They’re watching me, Tom.” Your voice wavered as you tried to hold your ground. “They’re waiting to see if I’m good enough for you. And they hope that I’m not. They’re praying that I fail. It is personal.”

“Why would they want that?” He asked sarcastically.

“So they can write the story when you break my heart.” You laughed humorlessly. Toms eyes softened when he realized you were right. He took your hands in his and rubbed his thumb gently on your knuckles as you cried.

“I would never do that, darling. I love you.” He promised as he looked into your eyes.

“Who says you haven’t already?” You whispered with tears falling down your face. T

“What?”

“I’m so lonely, Tom.” You whimpered. “When you’re gone, I have no one to talk to. My friends don’t want to be seen with me because they don’t want to get dragged into it. I try to stay above it and tell myself that you’re worth it, but I get overwhelmed.”

“Are you saying I’m not worth it?” He asked desperately, beginning to get a sick feeling in his tummy.

“I’m saying that I’m not worth it.” Your voice was steady now that you had made up your mind.

“What are you talking about?” He shook his head in confusion. You slipped out of his space and went over to the hall closet, taking a fully packed suitcase out and wheeling it back to the kitchen.

“You’d rather talk about missing me to a million reporters than come home to see me.” You said definitively. “What is it? Do you not want to see me?”

“Of course I do, but my job-“

“Comes first?” You cut him off. You weren’t saying it reproachfully, you were saying it like you had finally accepted it. Toms eyes were glued to your suitcase as white hot fear rose in his heart. He stayed silent, partially because he knew you were right and partially because he was too scared to say the wrong thing.

“Why don’t I do it for you?” You asked suddenly as a steady stream of tears fell from your eyes. “I used to. You used to come home whenever you could to see me. Even if it was just for a day.” You smiled sadly at the memory and looked down at your bag.

“I…I know.” He admitted with guilt laced in his voice. He used to be so good at this, at coming home to you and making you feel included. You never would’ve questioned his love at the beginning. He just didn’t know when that had stopped.

“Do you remember that time you took two flights and came home for four hours in between stops on your press tour?” You asked softly. “I told you it was ridiculous but you said you couldn’t wait to see me.“

“I remember. I didn’t sleep for two days to make that happen.” He smiled to himself, reminiscing in how happy you were.

“What happened to that?” You finally looked at him and saw that he was crying too. “I moved to LA for you, changed my job to have more time for you, left my friends and my family behind for you. And I didn’t hesitate to do it because loving you was more than enough for me. But I don’t think I’m enough for you Tom. I don’t do it for you.”

“I’m so sorry.” Was all he could say.

“I know you. You love the fame and attention. All the glory it’s what drives you, but not in a greedy way.” You said as you sized him up. “You just know how it feels to get on a stage and have thousands of people screaming your name.”

“It’s a great feeling.”

“I know it is. You give me that feeling every time you walk into a room. You’re all I need to feel special and loved.” You smiled softly and looked at him. “Am I all you need?”

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” He looked at you with red, tear ridden eyes that pleaded for your forgiveness. He had no excuse for his actions and you both knew it. You were purposefully asking a question he didn’t have an answer to.

“I want you to tell me when I stopped being enough.” You tilted your head and prayed for honesty from him.

“I don’t know. I didn’t realize it was happening.” He shook his head and walked over to you, putting a hand on the handle of your suitcase as if that would keep you from leaving.

“Because you were in the other side of it. You were on the good side. You weren’t the one being let go of.” You told him and he proceeded to cry harder.

“I’m so sorry, darling. I don’t have an excuse.” His voice cracked as he was finally honest with you. “I promise, I can change. It’ll be so different. I’ll come home more, I’ll do anything you want. Just please don’t say goodbye to me.”

“I can’t keep holding on to this relationship, Tom.” You let out a shaky breath and his eyes widened in fear. “My knuckles are white from how hard Im hanging on. I’m grasping at cellophane here. But there’s nothing to grasp anymore.”

You went up on your tippy toes to kiss his cheek, one last time. You could feel his body crumbling as he wrapped his arms around you.

“Don’t leave. It’ll be so different from here on out. I’ll be home so much, you get sick of me.” He cried into your hair and he gripped your tightly.

“I don’t want to be sick. Is this what love is supposed to feel like?” You pulled away and looked at him. “Like pain?”

“No, it’s not. But-“

“You don’t get it. You haven’t been hurting like I have. I’ve been carrying the pain for the both of us. And I can’t do it anymore, Tom.” You exclaimed tearfully. “This isn’t something that can be fixed by you changing your schedule. I don’t trust you anymore. I don’t even know you. Do you know how it feels to be struggling to make small talk with someone I thought I was gonna marry?” You cried.

“We can get that back. We can still get married.” He followed you closely as you walked toward the door.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think we can.” You looked over your shoulder at him as you placed your hand on the door handle. “I feel like I failed, Tom. It feels like I’m a failure.”

“Don’t leave.” He begged, actually getting on his knees and holding your hand.

“Why would I stay?” You asked. “Theres nothing for me here.”

“Don’t do this.” He was dry heaving now. You looked at him one last time, taking in the man you loved for everything he was worth, and opened the door.

“You did this. I’m just finishing it.”

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[anime-academix]

Dating Mexican Reader

Headcanon

Characters: Midoriya, Bakugo, Todoroki, Kirishima, Aizawa, Shigaraki, Dabi

Warnings: minor swearing, minor nsfw (it’s extremely brief, you’ll see it if you squint)

Requested by: @peachyhonxeey​ Thank you for your request! :)

A/N: I’m so sorry, I took so long to post this! 😭 But I hope you all like it! I will admit, my knowledge on Mexican culture is limited...so I asked a few friends more knowledgeable in that area for some help! So, if there are any spelling/pronunciation/translation errors, I apologise in advance! But, I hope you guys enjoy reading this! I will definitely be going back in and doing some much needed revising though lol and then maybe a part 2!

Midoriya

Shy when it comes to dating outside of his race, but claims he’s the luckiest person in the world once he’s with you.

ALWAYS asking questions about your family, culture, and even the language.

Writes down all of your answers.

Actually enrolled himself in a Spanish class so he could surprise you with what he’s been learning.

If Japanese isn't your first language, he will offer to help you with your Japanese.

The two of you end up spending hours just teaching each other phrase in your native languages.

During times like these, this boy is so madly in love with you, just observing the way you are, the way you’re just existing.

Wants to meet your family and will even ask how he can please your family members.

Listens to you in awe when you converse with your family in your native language.

Will try and repeat some of the words/phrases he hears you use to himself.

Once you’re done talking to your family, he’ll ask you how to pronounce a word he heard you say or what a phrase means.

Will ask you about how Japanese culture is different from your own culture.

When it comes to PDA, Izuku is EXTREMELY shy and gets flustered so easily.

He’s shock when he finds out that you’re culture is significantly different than Japanese culture.

Especially when it comes to PDA.

In public, as far as the two of you go are hugs, hand holding and cheek kisses.

Most times you initiate it, but after a while, he begins initiating it on his own.

He’s always sending you recipes he comes across and asks if you two could make it together on the weekend.

You’ll have conversations concerning your own experiences with racial discrimination.

Will almost always start crying.

Hugs you tight and reassures you that you and everything about you is beautiful.

Bakugo

He is so fascinated by you and your culture, but he won’t ever say it aloud.

You’ll see his fascination through little things:

Started eating Mexican food, even when the two of you were just friends to understand you a bit more.

Even learning words, phrases, and slang words in Spanish when he could.

He absolutely loves it when you switch to speaking your native tongue.

Especially when you guys get into an argument, he’s left speechless because you’ll curse at him in Spanish but he has NO idea all of what you’re saying.

“Excuse me? ¡Siempre haces esto! Te voy a romper la cara con mis puñetazos. No me jodas. Ugh! Vete a la mierda, pendejo. Eres tan jodidamente molesto.”

“W-what...what the hell did you just say to me?!”

You can honestly out argue him.

Will almost always lose the argument because he wouldn’t know how to reply.

Honestly would think it’s really hot and badass that you switch languages when you’re upset.

Usually won’t be the first to apologise directly, but after giving you space to calm down, he usually starts by calling you ‘Mi Amor’ or ‘Princesa’.

His pronunciation is actually so on point.

He’ll act as though he’s indifferent but he LOVES Mexican food.

On RARE occasions, he will even attempt to make a simple Mexican recipe to impress you.

He’s actually so good at cooking and when you praise him, he’ll say:

“Tch. Don’t make a big deal about it; it wasn’t that hard.”

Was actually hella nervous that he would do it wrong and you wouldn't like it.

Blushes HARD, but will pretend like its nothing when you praise his cooking.

During late night talks, usually with you laying on top of him, his arms wrapped around you and he’ll ask you if you feel comfortable in Japan.

Then will eventually ask if you’re comfortable with him.

Todoroki

Is 100% nervous to date outside of his race, or anyone for that matter.

So, once the two of you start dating, he is very attentive and takes the relationship seriously.

Very traditional when it comes to dating, but at the same time extremely shy.

Especially when it comes to PDA.

If we’re being honest, he’s really awkward when it comes to being around you, so it’s hard for him to express affection and his emotions directly.

So majority of the time, you’re instigating hand holding, hugs, and eventually kissing a lot of the time.

Expresses his love and affection for you through other ways.

He will take so much of his time reading about Mexican culture, the languages, and will even learn your native language to converse with you at times.

Constantly asking you random and unexpected questions about yourself and background.

Most of the time, he won’t give an explanation or context for the question.

Over time, he becomes more comfortable with affection and will start making the first move, such as: cheek and hand kissing and hugs.

When he’s around his friends, he usually sticks to hugging because this boy is honestly so awkward.

Whenever the two of you are in public, he prefers to always be holding your hand.

Some times he’ll have two of his fingers wrapped around yours.

He finds it so interesting when you speak in your native language whether you’re talking to family/friends or talking to yourself.

When you guys have an argument, it definitely would be over something serious.

Todoroki tries to remain calm whenever the two of you do fight, which usually resolves the argument as quick as it started.

But on rare occasions, during an argument he’s caught off guard when you switch to your native language when you’re upset/frustrated.

He’ll understand even more that when you switch to your native tongue, you’re extremely upset about whatever the two of you are arguing about.

Even then, he usually doesn’t argue back and will let you get out all of your feelings until you’ve calmed down.

If he thinks the two of you need some space, he’ll leave for an hour or so and then come back so the two of you can talk.

Regardless of whoever started the argument, he’s almost always the first to apologize, which usually results in the both of you apologizing at the same time.

Kirishima

In all honesty, the two of you just clicked instantly.

Picks up on your native language incredibly fast.

The two of you can hold entire conversations in Spanish.

Confuses the others because they have no idea what you’re talking about.

As if Kirishima wasn’t already romantic enough, once he starts learning more about your culture, his art in the romantics sky rocket.

Like this boy will tell you pick up lines in Spanish with a smirk on his face in front of your friends.

Will even ask if you can teach him any Mexican dances that you know.

When/if you do, he won’t stop practicing that dance(s) and he gets INTO it, emotions and all.

But honestly, the two of you are always dancing, especially when you’re alone together.

Kirishima doesn’t care about what others think, so therefore, he has no problem showing you off in public.

He will almost always initiate PDA and it doesn’t even bother him if other people think it’s weird.

Your family absolutely loves him, he honestly fits right in quite well when he meets your family.

Has at least a question every day about your culture and/or family.

Aizawa (slight NSFW towards the end)

Same with Kirishima, he has no problem showing you off.

LOVES listening to you speak in your native tongue.

But also loves hearing you talk about your culture and family.

Though he’s very educated on Mexican culture, he also learns alot from you--more intimate and personal details.

Aizawa knows a good amount of Spanish, but is kind of shy when it comes to responding back in Spanish because he’s self conscious when it comes to pronunciation.

His pronunciation is actually really good, but he doesn’t seem to think so.

You lowkey love when he speaks in your native language.

At times, when you ask him a question in Spanish, he will answer in Japanese and/or English.

Whenever you guys argue, you tend to switch back to your native tongue especially when you’re angry/upset.

He actually knows exactly what you’re saying, but usually won’t say anything.

Wants to let you scream out your anger/frustration as effectively as you can.

BUT NOW HEAR ME OUT, Aizawa WILL speak Spanish but only on rare occasions, like really rare.

Happens mostly on late nights when the two of you are cuddling that he’ll call you Mi Amor while holding you in his arms.

The other times he speaks Spanish to you are the nights when you two are doing the deed, he will whisper dirty things in your ear because he knows that it will turn you on instantly.

His deep voice + Spanish = ⚰️

He’s extremely protective of you.

Whenever the two of you are out in public, tends to hold you close to him by your waist.

Shigaraki

He may act like he’s all big and bad, but he becomes so shy whenever the two of you are alone.

Though you’re immune to his quirk, he’s always scared that one day he’ll touch you and you’re going to decay in his hands.

Because he’s always thinking that, you’re the one to take his hand and remind him that you’re not going anywhere

When you’re around the other League members and he’s acting out, you’ll put that boy back in line.

You’re honestly the only person that can keep him calm the most effectively.

Kurogiri is so lucky to have you, because he knows Shigaraki will listen to you.

Becomes a huge softie when you speak in your native tongue around him

Very interested in your culture and background.

He’s extremely shy when it comes to him asking you questions about your culture.

If he feels too embarrassed to ask you a question, he’ll spend a good amount of time researching the topic and he will inform you in hopes of impressing you.

Loves to see the happy look on your face when he tells you what he’s learned.

He may be a soft, pouty baby when it comes to you, but if anyone even dares to disrespect you, he will dust them in a second.

Will occasionally ask if you’re comfortable being with him or if you’d rather be at home.

He’d become flustered asf when you tell him that he is your home.

Spends hours cuddling and talking about everything and nothing.

Okay okay okay, one night he will ask you if you can give him a nickname in Spanish.

When he asks you that, he’s blushing like CRAZY.

Dabi (slight NSFW)

Okay, if we’re being honest, he honestly was the one to make the first move when he saw you.

Jokingly says dating you was a bad idea, but doesn’t regret meeting you at all .

Dabi won’t ever admit it, but he is SO in love with you, even if he tells you you’re a pain in the ass.

Whenever he gets an attitude, you have no problem reminding him of his place.

“What are you gonna do? Kick my ass? Doll, I’m not scared of you.”

“I don’t know who the fuck you think you talking to, but it ain’t me. So, you better watch yourself before I knock you out into next week.”

He’s almost always caught off guard with how fast you snap back.

When the two of you argue, he tends to lose the argument because at some point when your anger/annoyance heightens, you’ll start swearing at him in Spanish.

He’ll just stand there smirking at you while you’re just full of frustration.

Finds it so hot when you switch back to your native language.

Asks you so many times to speak in Spanish to him.

Knows a generous amount of phrases and words native to your culture.

Okay, I will tell you, it turns him on so much if you talk dirty to him in Spanish--it’s definitely one of his weaknesses.

Has no problem asking you questions about your culture.

Loves hearing you talk about your stories about your home, background and even family.

Though he’s a little rough around the edges, Dabi is EXTREMELY protective and especially observant when it comes to you.

Whenever the two of you are in public, he always has his arm around your shoulders or waist.

Dabi doesn’t care too much for PDA, but if he notices someone staring at you, he’ll glare at the person before kissing your lips then your down your neck.

[stargirlrchive]

Fantasies - Spencer Reid

masterlist ; request are open (send me stuff <3)

author’s note: okay i have never written smut, ever. and i want to but im shy 👉🏼👈🏼 and i was trying to write some stuff here but i couldn’t get myself to go all the way. so sorry about that, I WILL IMPROVE AND I WILL WRITE A SMUTTY PIECE EVENTUALLY. it’s my goal for the end of the year. italics and bold are a dream & i hate the title again, nothing new

disclaimer: NSFW, smut no actual s*x and very vague (honestly don’t know if it would even be considered but yeah!) GIF NOT MINE

pairing: spencer reid x reader

word count: 3,365

His tongue was hot on your body as it trailed down your chest, reaching near your belly button. He pursed his lip and bit down, letting dark marks litter from your neck all the way down to your lower stomach. You could see a mop of curls but couldn’t make out who it was. But you didn’t really care, his tongue was far too skilled and distracting. He kissed down to your thighs and before he got to where you wanted him most, he looked up and you felt your heart drop to the pit of your stomach, “Spencer?”

You woke up scared, confused and flustered. Your body had set off into a cold sweat and you were so utterly frustrated. Frustrated for two reasons, the first being that your dream ended right before it got good, and second because you had been trying to suppress those feelings but it seemed that your subconscious mind was catching up with you. Spencer was probably the person you were closest to, and you had managed to block out any feelings you had for him so it wouldn’t interfere with your friendship. Or so you thought.

You felt a flutter in the pit of your stomach and looked at the clock, 6:54 am. You were normally up by 7:30 to get your day started and head over to the office so you figured you’d just stay up.

Your daily morning routine was done and you were ready to go, still having a half hour before you needed to leave so you decided you would just grab a coffee. Your thoughts circling back to your dream every time your eyes fluttered shut and you couldn’t get the image of the genius out of your mind. It felt so real and so hot. You had no idea how you were going to get through the day.

Even as you sat at your desk it was so obvious something was wrong. Every time the door to the office opened you flinched and Derek and Emily had taken notice. “What’s wrong?”

Emily was looking at you with so much worry and you felt bad because you had no idea what to tell her. “I-have you ever had a dream- like a sex dream?”

“Always.”

Derek’s voice made you jump and everyone around you started laughing because of course he would say that. “O-ok what about if it was someone you had never had a dream like that about and-and you can’t stop thinking about it and it’s going to be so incredibly awkward when you see him, which you’re going to see him in like 10 minutes at most and it was really hot but it was so wrong.”

You had got everything out in one breath and your cheeks were a permanent shade of red as they both laughed at you, “It was Hotch wasn’t it?”

“What the hell!”

They laughed at your utterly mortified face, “No it was not, it was Spencer!”

“It was Spencer, what?”

You had stilled at the sound of his voice, you had been so involved in recounting your nightmare to your friends that you had failed to notice him walk in, they were still laughing at you. “Y-you forgot to turn the lights off from the office last night, since you were the last to leave.”

He did not look at all convinced but to your relief, he let it go. You just needed to keep a respectful distance from your cute genius friend and everything would be fine.

~

It was not fine, nothing about the day was fine. Hotch had paired you and Spencer together to work on some reports from the last case the team had taken on. He was so close you could smell his cologne and his floppy head of hair taking you back to your dream. You shifted and tried to get as far away as possible from him, hoping he had not noticed. But he had.

He noticed everything and he was hurt, to say the least. He didn’t understand what had caused the change between the two of you. You had always been very close.

The two of you had started working around the same time but you were strictly working under Penelope. Until you realized you preferred being hands on with the BAU, you hated having to stay behind. And your age, the two of you were the youngest of the group everyone always teased that the two of you would end up together, or at least hooking up. None of that had happened, much to Spencer’s disfortune.

“Did I do something?”

“What?”

“Did I do something to upset you?”

Your face was scrunched you in confusion and also discomfort, you didn’t want things to be weird but you felt bad. Bad because now when you looked at him all you could picture was his tongue tracing your body. And it felt so right, like ink marking parchment but you knew it was wrong. He had no idea about your fantasies and you hated having to keep a secret. Especially from Spencer.

“Spencer, you did nothing wrong. I-I just don’t feel good. And being in here is making me really hot and maybe I just need to work at my own desk because I feel suffocated in here.”

He knew you were lying, his eyes had hardened and he was so angry. “I need to clear my head, I can’t concentrate.”

He heard you vaguely mumble before you stepped out of the office, letting him drown in his thoughts of what was going on with you. You quickly walked out of the office the two of you had been in and we’re going to make your way to the restroom when Hotch stepped out of his office.

“Can I see you for a minute inside my office?”

His voice was flat, but there was amusement dancing in his eyes and you felt your stomach drop, turning to see Emily and Derek snickering behind you. You knew they had kept talking about it and Hotch had over heard them.

He motioned for you to shut the door and so you did, sitting down stiffly as he danced around the words he was going to say, the amusement lingering in his eyes made you tense up. This was mortifying, “Get on with it, Hotch.”

“People think I have no sense of humor, but I think I have pretty great sense of humor. Don’t you?”

Your eyes narrowed at your boss, “Depends.”

“How’s working with Reid?”

“It’s been normal.”

He was full on smiling now, “Are you ever going to tell him?”

“I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about and even if I did know, wouldn’t you want me to not say anything. No fraternizing.”

His eyes rolled so far back you were sure it hurt him, “As long as it doesn’t affect your work, I could care less what you all do, or who you do, outside of the office.”

Your cheeks burned, “But if you need motivation I know he feels the exact same.”

Your eyes narrowed on his figure once more, questioning him, “You get a few drinks in him and he’s an open book.”

You didn’t respond, not knowing what to say, “But seeing as it’s as hard as it is for you, I’ll just have him work with Garcia and you can finish up paperwork with Prentiss and Morgan.”

You couldn’t oppose, not that you wanted to, you needed some space from him. You stepped out of his office and made your way to your two colleagues, “What was that about?”

You shrugged your shoulders, “I’m working with the two of you now.”

“It can’t be that bad working with Spencer is it?”

They were teasing you, “No but it is distracting, so how can I help?”

~

You weren’t sure how long it had been since you left Hotch’s office, but by the look of anger and confusion on Spencer’s face when he left the room he was in you could tell it had been awhile. You forgot to tell him you weren’t working with him anymore.

“Shit-sorry Spence. Hotch to-“

“You’re being so childish.”

You tensed at his words, “Excuse me?”

Derek and Emily could feel the rising tension and quickly tried to jump in for you. “You’re so angry at me you had to go tell Hotch to change you assignments.”

“No I didn’t. He-“

“I can’t believe you.”

You were fuming, he wasn’t giving you the chance to answer, “Maybe if you stopped interrupting me and let me explain myself you wouldn’t be so angry.”

“Whatever, I didn’t need your help anyway. You weren’t necessarily helping. If anything just slowing me down and being a nuisa-“

“Reid.” Derek’s voice cut through to the two of you, the hurt clear on your face and Spencer’s anger leaving him in a second. He shouldn’t have said that. He didn’t mean to say that.

You turned away from him and ignored the way he was calling out for you, instead diving into the huge pile of paperwork the three of you still had.

“Drop it, Spencer. Hotch wanted you to help Garcia anyways.” You heard him sigh after Emily told him to leave you alone, only looking up from your mountain of work when you heard his footsteps disappear.

~

Spencer wanted to pull his hair out, he was hurt by the way you had been acting but you hadn’t actually said anything to hurt his feelings. And he did, he purposely hurt you and the guilt was eating him up. Clearly affecting him and Penelope was growing frustrated with his constant pacing.

“You’re more twitchy than normal.”

He let out a breathy laugh, delving into what exactly had happened between the two of you. Penelope was glaring at him, “I-I know, I was mean! And I didn’t really mean it I was just hurt. I dealt with it wrong.”

She huffed quietly, “You need to apologize.”

Spencer’s eyes looked frantic, he didn’t even know what to say to you, “Hey I have feelings for you and since you didn’t want me around you I felt hurt and in turn, I was a dick.”

“Now.”

She was pushing him out of the room, ignoring his protest and locking the door once he was out. He let his head fall onto the door and heard the muffled voice of Penelope through the door, “You can’t come in until the mission is complete.”

He turned from the door and let his eyes scan over the floor, he couldn’t see you.

“On her lunch.”

Emily didn’t even look up from the pile of paperwork and Spencer muttered out a quiet ‘Thank you.’

He was walking towards the lunchroom when JJ stopped him, an iced coffee in her hand, “She isn’t in there.”

His face scrunched up, “Does everyone know what happened?”

“Yes.”

“Where is she?”

“Hotch’s office.”

With that she walked alway and Spencer groaned quietly, you were avoiding him.

-

“And then he was going to call me a nuisance. I know he was, Morgan just got him to stop talking before he finished his sentence. Can you believe that?”

Hotch was trying not to laugh at you, “Yes well men are idiots.”

“You’re a man.”

“I’m the only exception.”

“Rossi too.”

He laughed quietly as you angrily stabbed your food, “I am never going to tell him now.”

“I thought there was nothing to tell?”

You glared at him, “Now out of my office, I have work to do.”

You huffed and made your way to leave, you knew he’d let you stay if you really wanted to but you still had work to do. “I will keep pairing you up with him if you don’t tell him.”

“Is that a threat?”

“Yes.”

You both laughed and you shut his door, stilling as you saw Spencer lingering around your desk. He sent you a small smile and you turned away from him, making your way towards the restroom. You couldn’t believe that all this was happening because of some stupid dream you had.

When you returned Spencer was no longer at your desk and you quickly jumped back into your work, hoping no more distractions came your way.

~

Thankfully, the rest of the day went without any interruptions. You tied your hair up and made yourself some coffee, you wanted to come in later tomorrow so you decided you’d stay as long as you needed to, to finish up your work. Slowly everyone began to gather their things and leave, and you tried not to think about how you had not seen Spencer leave.

Hotch and Rossi were talking quietly among themselves as they were walking out, “Late night?”

You nodded, “Just a few more files, I should be out here in like an hour more or less.”

“Have fun.”

You smiled at both of them and continued on with your work.

40 minutes had passed and you heard quiet arguing coming from Penelope’s office and then the door being pulled open and both her and Spencer walking out, turning away from the both of them to keep working.

You could hear them talking quietly amongst themselves and then Penelope spoke up, “Do you have a lot of work?”

“Just two files, im almost done.” You sent them a smile but it was mainly for Pen, they both knew it and Spencer was shifting awkwardly between his feet. “Perfect! You shouldn’t take too long and Spencer can help so you don’t stay here by yourself.”

“No.”

But Spencer was already walking towards you and you huffed quietly, “I don’t know why he would want to if he clearly thinks I just hold him back.”

He whined your name out quietly, asking you to stop. You turned back to Penelope to see she had already left, she sent you a thumbs up from the elevator and you slumped into your seat. You didn’t know if you were being childish but you were upset with him.

He took one of the files and you worked quietly next to each other, but you could feel his eyes on you every couple seconds. “I’m sorry.”

You didn’t say anything. You had both finished the the file you were working on and you simply closed and we’re preparing to leave.

He was getting frustrated again, you could tell by the way he was wearing his bottom lip out and the way his arms were bawled up in fist. He hated when the people he cared about were upset with him, when you made your leave to walk away he had enough.

His hand had wrapped around your wrist and he pulled you in abruptly, causing you to curse under your breath. His arms had enclosed around you at the desk, not letting you leave.

He was so close his cologne had began to take up everything around you and you resisted letting your eyes close. You were looking up at him as he towered over you. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said and I shouldn’t have said that! I don’t think you were slowing me down and everything else I said.”

His words were soft and frantic and there was guilt in his eyes and you huffed quietly. You forgave him, and he knew you had too. “It’s okay. I’m sorry I was being weird today too.” Your cheeks burned pink as you remembered your dream and you realized just how close he was to you. He noticed how your cheeks flushed and how you pushed yourself from him, although it didn’t help much. You were still so close. “Are you going to tell me why?”

“I don’t want to.”

You were playing with the ends of your hair, a nervous habit. “It’s embarrassing and I don’t want things to change between us.”

His face scrunched up in confusion and he removed his arms from around the desk, letting you leaving if you wanted to, but you didn’t and Spencer was glad you hadn’t. “I don’t think anything could make our relationship change. Unless you say Harry Potter is better than Star Wars.”

You both laughed quietly, things feeling normal again. “I had a dream about you-about us. And you were doing things, to me. And I just can’t get it out of my head and you’re distracting. And while I’m confessing I guess I should just tell you I’ve had feelings for you, that sounds so juvenile I hate it. But I’ve had feelings for you for the longest time and I kept trying to suppress it because we’re friends but we’re also colleagues and it would create so much tension and now I can’t stop talking because I’m nervous and you don’t feel the same because you aren’t saying anything, which is fine, I just needed to tell you.”

He was all over you in the next second, hand on your hips as he pressed himself against you and pressed you against the desk even more. The metal causing a slight sting, but that was the farthest thing from your mind. His lips had melted into yours and his tongue exploring your mouth. He let out a quiet moan as your rolled your tongue against his and tugged on his hair. He had sat you on the desk towards the edge and continued the assault on your lips, his hips rolling against yours and feeling a surge of confidence flow through all parts of his body at the moans and whimpers leaving your lips.

His fingers were fumbling with your belt and your hips bucking into his hand despite your words. “Spencer we’re in the office.”

“I don’t care.” His words were deep and heavy and you couldn’t bring yourself too either. As soon as he undid your belt he unbuttoned your pants, his hand slipping in and instantly pressing against your clothed center, his long fingers applying pressure to your pulsing core. The fabric adding friction as your hips moved with his hand. His eyes were glued to where his hand was and you lifted your hips, moaning as he pushed harder against you. “Take them off.”

He was helping you out of your pants when the two of you heard coughing to get your attention, jumping apart. There was a custodian who was looking anywhere but the two of you, his cheeks pink, “I clean this floor today.”

You fumbled with buttoning up your pants as Spencer tried his best not to laugh at your mortified face, “We’re really sorry, we didn’t know anyone else was still here.”

At this Spencer laughed and you shoved him away from you, still flustered as you grabbed your bags and made your way to leave, not being able to meet the eyes of the man who had caught the two of you.

Your thought were running a million miles in your mind but Spencer’s long fingers tangled with your and pulled you out of your spiral. “You okay?”

Your cheeks burned profusely as you waited for the elevator, “Oh come on, don’t tell me you’ve gone shy after the fact that I had my hand down your pants.”

“Spencer!” You whined and hid your face in his chest, he laugh rumbling all through his chest before he pulled you with him into the elevator. “I’m kidding, I like knowing I caused that.” His hand was rubbing softly against your cheek, his eyes flickering all over your face and he was leaning down again. His lips pressed softly onto yours and held you as close as he could, it was proving to be difficult between all the things you both were carrying. You bit down gently, pulling his lip with you and he huffed quietly, eyes closed as he savored the taste of your lips on his. “We have a lot to talk about.” He nodded and a dopey smile littered his face, “Are you tired to go out to eat?”

You shook your head no and you smiled at him as he took your hand in his again, “I know a great pizza place.”

“Sounds great, and by the way, Harry Potter is better than Star Wars.”

taglist: @swellwriting @carolinesbookworld @theboywhocriedlupin @awfulmoons @lumos-barnes @fortisfiliae @finnofamerica @beskarjedi @aperrywilliams @ta-ka-shi-ma (let me know if you’d like to be added <3)

[seokmingiggles]

on cerulean tides.

Anon requested on 201219: "Would you do an idol!Kim Namjoon one shot where the reader (non-idol) is best friends with the Maknaes and believes there's no way Namjoon would ever like her so she begins to avoid him whenever she hangs out with the Maknaes at the dorms/studio/dance practice to try to get over him and Joon picks up on it and thinks he did something wrong/is sad since he thinks he stands no chance with her until the Maknaes force them to realize they return each other's feelings? Thank you in advance!"

Pairing: Kim Namjoon x female reader

Genre: angst to fluff, idol!au, non-idol!reader, happy ending.

3.04k words

Warnings: heavy feelings of inferiority and insecurity, self-doubt, an incredibly brief mention of alcohol consumption, a dragged out metaphor about the sea.

With the ocean of uncertainty plaguing you, you've been avoiding the boy your heart yearns for, not knowing just how much your distance has been impacting him too. Alternatively, Namjoon is your beacon to guide you through the stormy feelings of self-doubt that you've been struggling with lately.

A/N: Thank you for your request! I probably made this much angstier than you intended, but I promise a fluffy ending awaits you. I hope it's okay! (I promise it’s not some pirate!au with a title like this lmao)

This one is dedicated to anyone who feels doubtful of themself. I wish that one day you will be able to see what an astonishing and beautiful being you are. All of us have insecurities about ourselves—big or small—but letting those criticisms consume you is unhealthy and prevents you from living your life to the fullest. Please reach out to talk to someone you trust if these feelings become overwhelming. Things will get better. Please take care of yourself!

•• You and Jimin laughed as you ran down the hallway, each of you with a bag of food in your arms. You could hear Taehyung and Jungkook scampering behind you, the former being noisy as he chased after you, Jungkook only had slightly more grace as he moved.

Being close with the maknae line of BTS had its perks. You could visit them in the studio if they called for you, you could have movie nights at their dorm on their off days, and above all, you could goof around to lift your spirits. You had boundaries; you knew when to leave them be during the busier periods of their schedules and how you couldn't post anything about them online. You didn't mind, though. Your friendship was more than enough.

You were a high school classmate of Jungkook's a few years back, although the two of you never spoke much during those first couple of years. It was only after his group's debut where the boy found himself in need of a tutor, and the school recommended a few to him. Yours was the only name on the list that Jungkook recognized, so it was an easy decision for him to make. Once you and your classmate graduated high school, Jungkook was no longer in need of a tutor, but he wanted to maintain your friendship as he didn't have many others he was close to in your graduating class. Slowly but surely, you also became friends with Taehyung and Jimin when visiting Jungkook over the years. Now, the four of you were practically inseparable. While the boys wouldn't tell you to your face, they all admired you because you never once treated them differently despite their status as idols, especially as their public popularity increased over time.

Jimin reached the vacant studio room before you, holding the door open to let you inside before shouting back at his friends, "You two better hurry up or else (Y/N)-ah and I will eat all the food!"

"Oh, I believe it!" Taehyung cupped his mouth as he yelled back, being pulled by the younger boy at his wrist.

Soon enough, Jungkook and Taehyung made it to the room before Jimin could lock them out. This whole ordeal began when Taehyung needed to use the bathroom after you all had entered the BigHit building. Jungkook went with him, leaving you and Jimin with the lunch he'd ordered.

"All that running from you guys worked up my appetite," you declared as you removed the assortment of containers from one of the bags.

"Well, all that chasing worked up mine," Taehyung countered, teasingly sneering at you and Jimin, the latter already breaking apart his disposable chopsticks.

The four of you began to devour your meal. The three boys were in the middle of a busy working day and invited you to join them for their lunch break. It wasn't an uncommon request; you'd see the trio at least once a week, sometimes more if their schedules cooperated.

Some playful banter with full mouths and filling tummies later, you were sitting back in your chair as you watched Jungkook finish the last of the japchae when someone knocked on the studio door.

After Jungkook managed a "Come in," with his cheeks full of noodles, it was Namjoon's head that poked through the doorway.

"I just want to remind you three that you'll be needed for our meeting in fifteen minutes," the group leader said, eyeing the now-emptied remnants of the lunch you enjoyed. "Hi, (Y/N)."

"Hi, Namjoon." You matched his monotonous tone, maintaining difficult eye contact as he shut the door behind him.

"Okay, whatever is going on between you two needs to stop," Jimin sighed out, visibly frustrated. "You used to get along so well with hyung, and now it's so awkward seeing you interact."

Taehyung sat up straighter, "I agree. You two have so much in common. It's sad to see you so distant now."

Jimin and Taehyung were right. You and Namjoon had to do a lot of scheduling together back when you were Jungkook's tutor, so he was the first one you'd gotten to know in the band, other than your former classmate. The two of you shared a similar mindset: you were both compassionate, responsible, and—arguably above all else—incredibly bad at sharing your feelings.

You wished you could determine the exact moment you began to develop feelings for Namjoon. Maybe it was something about his warm smile; maybe it was his cheery laugh. Or perhaps the way he so intently listened to what the others had to say and would consider ideas other than his own. You not once ever doubted his ability as a leader. You've known the boys since their debut, and even back then, you found Namjoon fit for his role; he's only become better at his job in the passing years.

Yet, something about him made you doubt your ability to be his equal. Part of you knew it was silly to begin avoiding Namjoon in the first place, but the other part of you couldn't bear to suffocate with those annoying butterflies swarming every time your gaze met his. Even from across a room, Namjoon had a powerful effect on you. Part of you wanted his impact on you to stop; part of you missed his closeness.

"Jungkook, you're being awfully quiet," Jimin exchanged a look with Taehyung, "Do you know something that we don't?"

Your head snapped up in Jungkook's direction, silently begging for the boy to deny their assumption.

The youngest hummed and grabbed a water bottle, twisting the cap off and taking a sip. He swished the water around in his mouth.

"Don't make me squish your cheeks to spit out that water, Jeon."

Jungkook swallowed. He glanced at you for confirmation, although instead, took in your tired appearance. He brought it upon himself to make your exhaustion stop.

"(Y/N)-ie likes Namjoon."

You sighed at hearing those words aloud. You couldn't even be mad at your friend; the only way he found out about your feelings was over some drinks one night where you were rambling about how pretty you thought Namjoon looked earlier that day. In hindsight, maybe it wasn't a good idea to tell your crush's bandmate that you liked him.

Jimin shifted in his seat, "Okay, and...? Don't tell me you thought we didn't already know, (Y/N)-ie."

"Yeah, it was obvious when you'd become flustered around hyung!" Taehyung added, "But after you began avoiding him I figured something had changed."

You fiddled with the cap of your water bottle. "Does he know?"

"Namjoon? No, there's no way. He's about as clueless as you are when it comes to crushes." Jimin pondered then continued, "Maybe we could talk to him about it-"

"Absolutely not."

"But why not (Y/N)? It's painful for us to watch the two of you interact lately; it must be worse for you guys."

"I don't want him to know."

"That's not a good reason-"

"It's good enough for me. Now please, can we just forget about it? Don't you guys have a meeting to get to?" You felt bad for shutting down their request. After all, they were only trying to help you.

The boys began to stand, collecting the bags and containers scattered on the floor. They were visibly defeated, but they respected your plead.

Jimin stood by you before turning to the door, "Okay, if that's what you wish, we won't tell him. I do think you should, though, (Y/N). Maybe the results will be in your favour."

•

You felt numb as you were on the bus heading back to your apartment. You tried to escape from your thoughts about the boy you were so fond of, yet your mind defeatedly wandered its way back to him no matter how hard you tried. It pained you to see Namjoon's behaviour shift with yours as you began to avoid him throughout the past month. You didn't realize how severe it had become until your friends pointed it out to you. You thought the distance you created would help alleviate the pounding sensation in your chest and clammy palms associated with Namjoon's presence. You never thought that one day you'd prefer your racing heart to the emptiness you feel now.

He's too good for me, you kept convincing yourself until it was all that you believed.

He couldn't love someone like me.

You have struggled with self-compassion throughout your life thus far. Feelings of gratitude coming in inconsistent waves like the unpredictable ocean tides. You were stormier lately—lost in the sea of doubt and floundering to find stability on shore again.

Namjoon used to be your lifeboat. He taught you that appreciating oneself is necessary to become genuinely happy. He even wrote lyrics about the phenomenon. He made it sound so simple, so achievable. Yet, the theory is typically easier than the practice. Wind and rain continued to pelt down at you, thrashing the waves beneath your surface and making it difficult to breathe.

You wanted to change your mentality; you wanted to be more confident. But constantly comparing yourself to others is equivalent to drowning in the murky ocean, the depths sucking you further and further below until not a trace of sunlight remains.

You made it back to your apartment safely in one piece. You were mentally exhausted and drained at all of your overthinking. You felt the need to cry out of frustration.

"Remember to breathe when you're feeling like this. Come on, just slow, deep breaths."

Namjoon's voice resounded in your head from a few months back when you overheard him calming Taehyung down in a neighbouring room.

You missed hearing his voice.

It was an unmistakable desire. You missed the way he'd look at you with utmost attention and care when you'd speak with him. You missed the way he'd give his thoughtful advice. You missed his smile, his laughter; you missed him. You longed to be back in Namjoon's presence. He always knew what to do or say to help calm the storm. He was a lighthouse beckoning you back safely to shore.

You were getting tired of avoiding him.

But you were also getting tired.

Padding your way to your bed, you slipped into comfy loungewear and got beneath your covers. You momentarily stared up at the ceiling before closing your eyes.

"Come on, just slow, deep breaths."

•

Your ringing phone was what awoke you. It could have been minutes or hours later; you weren't sure. You reluctantly pushed yourself out of your blanketed fortress and made your way to the kitchen counter where you left the device. It was still light outside, but you could see the sun beginning to approach the horizon line.

"Hello?" You said, cursing in your head for the way your groggy voice sounded.

"Hi, (Y/N). It's been a while. Could we talk?"

You froze, being doused by the icy sea.

"Um..." you hesitated. You were caught off guard in a place that was supposed to be your retreat, by a person who was supposed to be your oasis.

"Deep breaths."

"Yeah, I-I guess we could talk."

"Great. Would it be okay if I came to you? I'm almost done here in the studio, maybe another thirty minutes before I can head out."

You were nodding your head before you verbalized your agreement.

"Okay. I'll see you soon, (Y/N)."

"See you, Namjoon."

You hung up first and set your phone back onto the kitchen counter, your elbows following shortly after so you could place your face in your hands.

You knew this was coming; Namjoon was a responsible young adult. There was no way he could have missed your change in behaviour around him as much as you wished for otherwise.

•

Thirty minutes went by faster than you wished. The sharp knock on your door startled you as you were washing some dishes in the kitchen. Cleaning when stressed wasn't an unusual habit of yours.

You hesitated, grabbing a tea towel to dry your hands before treading carefully to the door.

"Deep breaths."

You removed the chain and carefully opened the door. You knew Namjoon was waiting for you on the other side, yet your breath still hitched as your eyes wandered upwards to meet his.

"Come in," you forced from your lips and stepped to the side to let your guest past.

Namjoon thanked you as he slipped his shoes off and made his way to your sofa, declining your offer of a drink.

You joined him shortly after, keeping him more than an arms-length away.

"What's wrong, (Y/N)?"

"Deep breaths."

"Did Jimin mention anything to you?" You could tell your voice sounded weak, but you had other pressing concerns.

"Nothing elaborate. All I was told by him and Taehyung was that I should try talking to you. They didn't say why, but I think we both know."

You searched his face for any signs of dishonesty but found none. "Nothing's wrong-"

"Please," he pushed, "I'd like to think I know you well enough over the years. Something is wrong. I should have come here sooner. You know you can trust me." He even bared a small smile after his words.

It only made your heart plummet further into the depths: a watery grave with your name written on it.

"You're just..." you sighed out, already feeling tears prickling at your eyes. "You're really... just... good. I hope you know how good of a person you are, Namjoon. I don't know how else to explain it. You're a good person. No, that's an understatement. You're... it sometimes doesn't feel like you're real, you know? You're just so giving and considerate and so aware of others' wellbeing." You failed to hold back your emotions; a tear slid down your cheek. "You're good."

And proving your point, Namjoon slid closer to you on the couch so he could take your hand in his.

"Sometimes I feel so insignificant," you continued, "like I'm nobody special or that I'm not doing anything important or worthwhile; that I'm not enough. It's like I'm stuck on the bottom of the ocean. I'm not drowning, but I'm able to see the world passing by above me."

Namjoon said nothing for a moment and just absorbed your thoughts as he mindlessly brushed his thumb across the back of your hand. "There are times in everyone's' life where we all feel that way. You can only tread water for so long before you exhaust yourself and begin to sink. I've felt that way, too—stuck, insignificant. If I'm being blunt, part of my desire to change my mindset was because of you, (Y/N). When I first met you as Jungkook's tutor, you seemed so knowledgable, responsible; you had a good head on your shoulders. You were good. Part of you reminded me of myself, yet part of me also felt intimidated by you." Namjoon stopped momentarily to smile at your astonished face as you mouthed 'intimidated?'. "Yes, intimidated. I've admired you since day one. Then slowly, I realized that those feelings became more than just a simple admiration. But I held back saying anything because I didn't feel worthy of you. I let my own self-doubt get in the way."

"I'm the one not worthy of you, 'Joon."

"Please, love, nothing about that is true," the boy's voice became so tender as he brought his free hand to the side of your face. "One day, I'll show you just how incredible you are to me," he swiped his thumb to collect a stray tear, "but right now, I think you're more in need of a tissue and a hug."

A small, breathy laugh fell from your lips as you accepted the tissue Namjoon retrieved for you. After effectively wiping away your salty tears, you gladly situated yourself in his outstretched arms, being held in a tight embrace. The two of you remained like that until your breathing gradually calmed down, then you moved so you were lying against him with your back to his chest. His nose lightly nuzzled the top of your head.

"All of us have a bit of the ocean inside of us," Namjoon continued, delicately grazing his thumb around the curved corner of your eye, "it means you have the power to control the waves to some extent. The sea can be unpredictable, but so is life. It takes practice to learn to control your waves. I know you may not believe in yourself now, but please, (Y/N), believe me when I tell you that you're enough. You're more than enough."

•

Namjoon stayed with you for the rest of the evening to make sure your spirits were lifted even the slightest bit. The distance that grew between you was from a mutual error; you came to understand your similar sides to the story as you continued to talk. The whole ordeal made you realize that you're not alone in your insecurities. Even someone you suspected to be flawless had doubts of their own.

You were situated back in your bed after Namjoon had left minutes ago. He wished you a good night and pleasant dreams, topping off his adieu with a quick peck to your cheek. You relished in the feeling of your butterflies returning, no longer letting them suffocate you, instead, embracing them in their colourful magnificence.

You recalled what Namjoon said earlier to you:

"You know, what you said about the ocean, it can be beautiful too. Yes, it's scary when you're alone and trapped at the bottom beneath the waves in the dark, but the thing about the sea is that it's continuously moving and shifting. Like our lives, tides come in highs and lows and can change from day-to-day, hour-to-hour. It's unfair to assume we can always remain floating on the surface; when that happens, you can't go anywhere yourself. You need to be partially submerged to move and make choices.

Why don't we traverse this sea together? We can help guide each other until we've found our shore again."

Namjoon was your lighthouse; you were the moon guiding his tides.

••

[halfmoonshines]

😇 - FANDOM(s): Supernatural, The Vampire Diaries, and Game of Thrones (all male preferences)

𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗢𝗡𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗬: I may have a slight introverted tendencies and awkward nature, I describe myself as fiery, swears like a sailor, confident, jokester, and, passionate. Religious, super talkative, sometimes hyper (because of excitement), giggly (I always laugh for stupid reasons), nerdy, actually sweet and nice though I can be aloof, intimidating, and scary when I get so angry. I tend to become really fiesty, stands boldly on what I believe (claiming myself as a realist though some of my views doesn't makes sense), and unbothered to be true to myself, clumsy, stubborn, young-at-heart, unfortunate and inattentive. I have "no bs" towards the people that I hate, sarcasam and savagery is my main language. But on the other side, I overthink a lot and cry over small things many times, small mistakes leads me to provoke me even more that sounds like a drama queen, yet recognizes a soft spot for dumb jokes, cheesy pickup lines and prefer people with a good sense of humour who see myself as equal. Chill in academics, but very competitive that manages to the top even for my dreams---I'm very dedicated on what I want for my life, and have modesty towards some people that deserves respect. One notable feature about her is her multi-potentiality due to being naturally gifted in artistic fields (this includes singing).

𝗜𝗡𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗘𝗦𝗧𝗦: Arts, choir, poetry, karaoke, literature, history, makeup, beauty pageants, fun/deep/dumb conversations, expanding my knowledge in Christianity, documentaries (about saints), reading interesting stuffs, talking about social issues, and creative writing, chilling both indoors and outdoors.

𝗛𝗢𝗕𝗕𝗜𝗘𝗦: Drawing, singing, dancing when nobody's around, sharing nerdy or opinionated thoughts, walking like a model (if I ever feel so confident), sleeping, listening to music (from rock to kpop), chatting or browsing on social media, watching videos on YouTube, making terrible jokes/puns, watching cartoons, writing, reading interesting things, and conceptualizing my artworks. I also used to study Italian language a bit

oh, so you're klaus mikaelson's?? gotcha

the first time he saw you was at an art gallery where he'd decided to put a few of his paintings; the moment he saw you admiring them he was enraptured

especially when he approached you and you called him arrogant in the first 60 seconds

obviously you had no idea who he was, that was also appealing to him

he would 100% teach you italian... and take you to italy... buy you a villa there, if you want

he catches you singing in the shower once and he thinks his heart may literally fall from his chest

he lavishes you in gifts but quickly realizes that you'd much rather have him over the objects

every time you make an incredibly cheesy reference or joke he just blinks at you for a moment before gifting a laugh, delighting in the way that your mind works

takes you to the oldest known christian churches in the world, and tells you his stories from those historic times

attends mass with you even though he feels incredibly out of his element sometimes

admires your drive and devotion

go to this post for fun stuff!

[boop-le-snoot]

PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 27

First time reader click here

TWs/Summary: If you read carefully, you knew this; if you didn't: reader was drugged at the party. Hangover from Hell ft. boys being cute, Loki being best friend material and reader fully integrating him into the Gen-Z community via Monster energy drinks and depressive music whilst being sad. I live for Loki/reader friendship tbh.

So folks, this is the last big plot thing before the endgame. I reckon it's about 10-15 chapters left until out happy ending and the next bit is going to focus on developing reader's and Stephen's relationship. There will be smutty parts too - either chapters or interludes, idk, depending on how well they'll integrate into the story.

I love y'all.

Ow, was my first thought upon waking up. My head throbbed something fierce, the pressure behind my eyelids was unbearable and my mouth tasted like a bog on a sunny summer's day. I was warm, from both sides, and one of the bodies felt foreign in everything besides the smell - sandalwood leaked through the lead curtain of alcohol and sex.

Needless to say, I had trouble piecing together the fine details of last night but had enough coherence to remember our... Activities. I was sore and Strange's long arm was still possessively draped over both me and Tony. The luck was on my side as I carefully wiggled out of his grasp, padding to the bedroom on quiet feet. The sorcerer barely moved, only grumbling briefly at the loss of my warmth and immediately quieting, shamelessly snuggling into Tony.

I would have not exaggerated if I said it was the worst hangover of my life. It was baffling, really, because I'd gone way wilder and didn't suffer half as much after effects; my first attempt to brush my teeth ended with my face resting against the toilet bowl, my empty stomach rejecting what little liquid in it was left as the room spun on its axis. That was incredibly embarrassing and I hoped my boys wouldn't wake up to witness my best impression of a bum - and they didn't, both men still sound asleep and interwined like snakes when I put on the shirt closest to me and departed in search of coffee.

My mood only worsened. Steve and Bucky were already up, shoveling an impressive amount of eggs and bacon, as Bucky quietly teased Steve about his own hangover. The blonde man was slightly greenish, disheveled - we traded equally glum looks and nodded to each other in silence. The smell of food made my stomach churn and I retreated, one black coffee in hand, towards Bruce's lab, having been informed by Friday that neither Tony not Stephen planned on waking up.

"Morning, Princess," Bruce smiled kindly, pushing his glasses out of the way to hold me close and give me a sweet kiss. "Had fun? The boys still asleep?"

I giggled at Bruce calling Tony and Stephen boys. "Yeah. I wouldn't be wearing Stephen's shirt if he was up and about, I think." I pointed out the obvious.

Bruce chuckled, holding my face to give me a long, thoughtful look. I stared back, hoping convey my respect and adoration without having to say a word; like Tony, I wasn't particularly apt when it came to talking feelings. Whatever Bruce was looking for, he found it, and sealed it with another kiss, twice as long and twice as sweet. We stood like that, my head on his shoulder and my arms firmly holding him to myself, until the elevator dinged behind the glass wall, revealing a shirtless Stephen and Tony in his pajama pants, both men bickering animatedly.

"Aw shit, here we go again," I rolled my eyes, unhappy about the possibility of the magic being broken. I rather preferred all three men to be like yesterday: friendly, kind and relaxed.

"I will kick them out if I have to," Bruce shrugged, turning me around to face them.

Tony smiled, seeing me, stopping mid-conversation. "Princess, I am disappointed in your lack of manners. You left me with Merlin and he is mean." The engineer unceremoniously snatched me from Bruce and smooched me, hangover breath and all.

"Gross, Tony," I rolled my eyes, giving the man a light shove in the chest. "Morning, Steph," I addressed the third man who had gone back to his usual stoic expression. Just to see his resolve crack, because I loved pushing his buttons, I gave him a good morning kiss too, and was unexpectedly blown away by the eager response from his side. As I pulled back, I noticed his cheeks dusting a light pink.

"I came to get my shirt but I think you'd rather keep it," The sorcerer's fingers caressed my skin beneath the collar of his shirt, voice still low and scratchy from sleep and those magnetic eyes fixated on the exposed flesh of my chest, no trace of previous awkwardness.

"You sure 'bout that?" I pushed one of the sides off, exposing my shoulder, seeing Tony gulp the remainder of my coffee, one hand already messing with the screen that Bruce was focused on. "I think I look better without it," I would never miss an opportunity to tease the uptight man.

"Quite," He grinned, "It's a shame I didn't get to see much last night..." Two could play this game, okay.

"Oh, but you will," Tony piped up suddenly, a hint of smugness in his voice barely covered by Bruce's fond chuckle. I really didn't know what to say, suddenly overwhelmed with the attention, my emotions amplified by the hangover - party drugs tended to exaggerate my anxiety on the comedown.

And what a comedown it was. My social energy ran out very quickly so I complained about a nasty headache and retreated into my room, Bruce's gentle hands pressing a bottle of Ibuprofen into my own. Despite my attempts to tame my rioting body, it got worse before it got better and shortly before lunch, I had thrown up twice more. Pissed off, I ran a bath with cold water and sat in it until I felt somewhat human to prepare myself for a journey to Wanda's apartment - as a last resort, I was going to chug on of Pietro's Monster energy drinks that I knew he kept hidden there.

The retrieval was a success. Cans securely hidden in the kangaroo pocket of Tony's oversized hoodie I had thrown on, I had to make a haste detour to throw up once again - the closest bathroom was in Loki's apartment and I only managed to knock twice before throwing open the door and making a mad dash for the porcelain throne, a very confused Asgardian following my movements with raised eyebrows.

"Hangover from Hell," I croaked once the first wave subsided. Loki nodded in understanding, waved a hand to summon me a water bottle and shut the door behind himself.

As I sat there, desperately trying to understand why was I feeling like utter shit... It clicked. Bile rose to my throat once again, and I just dry heaving, mulling my revelation over and over again.

I didn't take any drugs. I had been drugged. My memories became hazy and dream-like shortly after someone had given me the drink... Someone, who? It was a split-second moment; Sam, even in his drunk state, didn't keep his eyes off me for too long. Maybe it had been someone the team knew? Possibilities began playing out in my head. Cursed was my overactive brain - the anxiety from the leftover drugs was making me panic.

"Fuck, FUCK," My hands shook - I only noticed it because I had spilled water on myself, adding cold and wet to the unpleasant sensations I was already experiencing. "Why am I such a fucking fuck-up." Taking a drink from a stranger seemed downright idiotic now. Middle school bullshit.

"Are you alright?" Loki's worried voice interrupted my inner monologue.

"Yes," I replied, voice cracking. "No. I don't fucking know."

The door all but flew open, the Asgardian taking several long strides to take a good long look at me. The frown on his face tells me all I needed to know about my physical and mental state.

A slender hand tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear. "What happened?"

I laughed tersely, feeling tears to begin welling in the corners of my eyes. "I'm an idiot," Seeing his face get annoyed briefly, I conceded: "I got drugged yesterday. My drink."

The hand that he had slid between my shoulder blades froze. I felt his whole body go rigid and his nostrils flare, the smell of ozone and something foreign - magic - filling the small space. The air around us became charged with the power of his anger. "Pardon?" His voice was dangerously quiet.

I physically fought with the need to flinch away from him, settling for lowering my eyes and staring at the dark stain on my hoodie. "I got carried away dancing. Someone handed me a drink and my stupid ass just shotgunned it," I confessed, picking at the wet spot. "And I can't tell anybody because I had a threesome with Stephen and Tony," I suddenly realised, my voice raising in pitch. "They're gonna think I didn't want it and feel bad. You know how Tony blames himself for everything under the sun..." Another wave of dizziness and nausea hit me as I leaned against the wall closest to me.

"Alright," Loki conceded after a brief pause. "We absolutely are telling the others. I'll make sure they understand," The Asgardian stated firmly in a tone that bore no argument. Seeing me lift my head to protest, he interrupted me before I could say anything: "Did you... Did you want it?" He asked me, hooking a single finger under my chin to look me in the eye.

I nodded, feeling my face heat up.

"You're not lying. The team knows of my ability to detect lies. Nobody will blame anyone..." Loki trailed off, obviously already plotting something. I wished it were a prank both of us were conspiring on instead of... Trying to make sense of this cluster fuck of a shit show. The circus called, they seemed to have left their clowns behind. "Although I will have a word with Sam." The Asgardian muttered darkly.

"No, it's not his fault. I just got too relaxed, I need to pucker up and be responsible for myself," I protested, damn well knowing it wasn't the Bird's fault. Everyone was drunk and I should've known better.

"It's not yours either," Loki sneered, seeing right through my self-loathing. It took a deep, slow sigh for him to calm down. His expression softened and the hand that was on my back resumed the gentle stroking as he scooted closer to me to press my side against his chest. "Vile people of this kind aren't exclusive to Midgard. It could have happened to anyone."

I nodded, my logical part briefly taking over as the waves of nausea and dizziness waned. I stifled a giggle, coming to another sudden revelation. "You holding up my hair as I barf out my hangover? That makes you qualified for the position of my Best Friend," I stated with a snort.

Loki chuckled, relaxing bit by bit. "I accept the position," His voice was unusually soft and a little bit shaky; I chose to tactfully ignore it. "Shall I call for assembly in the war room?"

I sighed, the dread and anxiety creeping it's way back in. "Can we just... Wait a bit? I have something- hold on-" I rummaged around my pocket, taking out two cans of Monster. Loki eyed them curiously and I extended one to him. "It probably won't do much for you but for me it's a last-resort hangover cure." I popped open the metal cap, seeing him do the same. "Be warned though, it tastes kinda funky if you're not used to it," I announced the disclaimer but it simply egged Loki on.

The scrunched up face he made was pretty funny. "It's sour but sickeningly sweet at the same time? I can't tell," He briefly eyed the written ingredients on the can.

"There are a bunch of flavors. Pietro likes the plain one, I like the purple one better, it's not so tongue-burning." I paused to inhale loudly. "If this is what college life looks like, I don't want to go," Mustering up my courage and gathering my balls in a knot, with one broad motion I closed my nose and poured the carbonated acid down my throat until my eyes watered. "Gimme a minute," I hiccuped, trying to keep it down.

Wide-eyed, Loki took a chaste sip of his own drink, eyeing me warily. He looked part impressed part disgusted with the little stunt. "I am pretty certain that is counter-productive."

"Caffeine make brain and body go skrrt," I argued back. "Friday, play my "grant me the sweet release of death" playlist. I'm upset," I announced and the AI obliged silently, the first notes of Placebo's 'Exit Wounds' beginning to play. If I was going to mop in a stranger's bathroom, I was going to do it with style. Even if said style was just simply stealing in my own misery with emo background music.

Loki stared at me, I stared back, both of us lost in our respective minds. At one point, he began swaying to the music slightly, resting the cool tin of the can against his cheek; I followed suit, mouthing along to some of the lyrics. It took us about a dozen songs to finally finish the liquid acid that was Monster energy drink and my ass felt like the bathroom tile itself: flat and hard.

"Do you ever feel like the universe just hates you for no fucking reason?" I groused, taking Loki's outstretched hand and slowly feeling the blood rush back to my legs.

"You wouldn't believe," He rolled his eyes in solidarity, vanishing away the empty containers. "Norns, give me a Hel-damned break."

I laced his arm through mine as we exited his apartment, feeling considerably less upset than I was before. I couldn't protect myself, but one look at Loki's sullen, irritated expression was bound to scare off anyone who dared to interrupt our mission.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub ​ @mostly-marvel-musings  @vozit ​ @littlegasps ​ @pilloclock ​ @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads ​ @hermione-grangers-wife ​ @individualistfem ​ @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby @cutenessloading @romeo-the-cactus @jelly-fishy-babie @mikariell95

[vancsssa]

This was inspired by a meme @cimanon made, and me with my sleepdeprived ass, decided to write it.

Word count: 1136

A nice night out,

That's all it was supposed to be.

But then it turned into breaking someone's nose.

Right.

***

Katherine squealed when they came into the pub, immediately feeling at home. She pranced around the dance floor, already moving to music, even though there weren't a lot of people just yet.

Pulling Anna with her, she danced, smiling when the German had the same energy. Her cousin, Anne, quickly joined and tried to steal the spotlight, which Katherine didn't allow.

"No way, Anne! I'm the Queen in the spotlight tonight!" she shrieked, laughing when Anne poked her side.

While the Chaotic Trio™ did their questionable things, the Sane Trio™ settled down at the bar, chatting happily with a (non!!!)-alcoholic drink.

"You know," Cathy began, and the other two raised their eyebrows, the sixth Queen was usually never the one to talk about a new subject. "It's actually quite nice to get out of the house."

"Ha!" Jane exclaimed, holding out her hand. "Five pounds, Aragon. Pay up!" With a groan, the Spaniard reached into her pocket and pressed the money into Jane's waiting hand. With an evil chuckle, the blonde put it in her own pocket, even getting up and doing a small victory dance.

"Okay, what is going on~?" wondered Cathy, her gaze flicking from Jane to Aragon.

"We had a bet," Jane replied smoothly. "I knew you were going to say that you liked it, being out of the house for once. And Aragon here-" she poked the grumpy woman- "swore that you wouldn't. And once again, I was right~" She ended the sentence with a sing-song voice. "Cheer up, Lina. We have a lot more hours to go."

"I need alcohol for this--"

"Alcohol?" Anne popped up behind Aragon, laughing when the 'mighty' woman shrieked. She gestured to the bartender, before any Queen could stop her, she ordered. "Can I have six alcoholic drinks? Doesn't matter which one. Preferably with a lot of alchohol."

The bartender nodded and made the drinks, setting them down before each of them, leaving the other two for the fourth and the fifth Queen.

"Anne--" Jane protested, but the drink got shoved into her hands.

"Drink, Seymour. Don't be boring. Be gay! Do crime! I know you fancy Lina!"

Leaving two confused Queens, and one incredibly flustered one, the blonde downed the drink, immediately ordering another one.

Once she got it, she prodded Cathy and Aragon. "Come on. I'm going to show them that I'm not boring."

And with that, Jane disappeared.

And Cathy bursted into laughter. "Well, Lina. Look like you got yourself an admirer, how about you finally make a move?"

"Maybe next time," the hispanic only mumbled with red cheeks before pulling the still laughing Queen onto the dance floor.

While singing and dancing along to the music, Katherine noticed that a man was watching them- specifically, watching her. Shaking the worry off her shoulders, she ignored the man.

Until she felt someone tap her shoulder. The Queen turned and met a pair of black eyes. They reminded her of a predator- thus she immediately felt endangered. She reached for the Queens behind her, but only grabbed air.

"Hello babydoll," he said in a deep voice. Kaherine resisted the urge to gag right there.

"I'm not interested."

"Why not, darling? You're very cute, and I want to get to know you better."

Katherine backed up, eyes widening when the man took a step forward.

"Would you mind to step away, sir? You are a bit close," she said as politely as she could, forcing the lump in her throat.

"Why, babygirl?" he purred. (Because you're a dick. That's why.)

Cathy, who had been keeping eye on Katherine, nudged Jane. The third Queen turned around with a huge smile, which quickly faltered when her gaze landed upon the man.

The fifth Queen managed to squeeze herself through the crowd and sighed when she reached the others.

"Are you okay?" fussed Jane, scanning the girl.

"I'm fine," said Katherine quickly. "I just strayed too far, and he hit on me. I politely declined him. Everything's good." Even though she reassured the other Queens, she kept close to them, hoping the man wouldn't return.

Her hope was quickly shattered when she felt a tugging hand on her waist, pulling her away from the Queens. With a squeak, Katherine tried to get free, however, his grip was too strong.

"Babydoll, I wasn't done. How about we go to my place?"

At the word 'babydoll', the third Queen turned around, scanning the room to see if anyone was getting harrassed. Then she saw that Katherine was the victim.

His hand was on her waist, and the other was tilting her chin.

With anger flaring up, Jane chugged her drink in two seconds and handed Cathy the glass. She rolled up her sleeves, ignoring the terrified glances of the other Queens.

"Hold my drink." She charged at the man.

"Jane-"

"Let's fucking go, bitch."

*****

The walk home was...

Beyond awkward.

Jane had punched the man, breaking his nose.

And then they were kicked out.

Now that most of the adrenaline had passed, Katherine found it funny. She started laughing, until tears streamed down her cheeks. She elbowed Anne, who had been quietly chuckling in her hand too. With that, Anne screamed out in laughter.

"Ja-Jane, my goodness. Your face when you realized that you broke the dick's nose! I doubt I'll ever can look at you the same," Anne shrieked. Jane turned to scold her, but it didn't have much effect as everyone was laughing. A smile spread across her face.

"I didn't mean to break his nose, I just wanted to teach him a lesson. But--" She nearly choked as she seemingly realized something. "If you children ever do that, I'm not bailing you out of jail."

"Janey, I'm literally older than you and you call me a child?" Anne asked.

"Because you act like one!"

"Sure, Seymour. But~ you didn't end up in jail?"

"No because I booked it!" the blonde exclaimed, slurring a bit. Then she giggled. "Goodness his face was funny." Anne and Katherine stepped forward to stand beside her, both putting a hand on Jane's shoulder.

"Good, because us, children, are not bailing you out of jail," Anne mimicked Jane's tone from earlier with a smug grin.

"This is all fun and games, but don't break noses next time," Aragon put in, waving her finger as to underline her statement. She was seemingly the least drunk. Anna rolled her eyes, poking the Queen.

"I don't think it'll happen again, since Jane- who never gets drunk- was drunk."

"Right," Aragon sighed, she clapped in her hands. "Alright ladies, we're going home. And you are all heading straight to bed."

"Funny, because we're all gay."