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rekishiteki · 3 months

Text

Ardent Affection

Summary: You just really love Jing Yuan

Words: Around 1.5k

Warnings: Fluff the whole way through; reader is not described in any way and implied to be a long life species; reader and jing yuan are very clingy and a little possessive; jing yuan decided to be cheeky so this ended up kind of suggestive at the end

Notes: I wrote this for meee!!!!! It's self indulgent!! It's what I want to do with jing yuan!!! It's been months and I'm still so down bad for him. I'm so in love with him it's making me ill!!!! Done trying to edit this so take it before I explode from the yearning

This is also an offering to his rerun banner. I need my beautiful husband so please let me win my next 50/50 and his lightcone 👉👈

You're relaxing with Jing Yuan in his gardens. He's lying on his side with a hand propping his head up. His eyes are closed and he looks content to be here sunning himself. You're sitting with your back resting against his middle. His other hand is placed on your arm and you can feel the rise and fall of his chest. It's comforting. You let out a content sigh, basking in the serenity of the moment. Your thoughts drift to Jing Yuan as they tend to do, your gaze drifting along with it. You examine him and his beautiful features, heart tightening with the love you feel for him.

"I wish I was as old as you." The words come out of your mouth impulsively, the barely formed thoughts surprising you.

Jing Yuan's eyes open. He looks curious. A moment passes before he responds. "How come?"

You purse your lips before turning away to think. Knowing this Jing Yuan simply lets the hand on your arm start gently stroking you. He'll patiently wait for your answer. He always does.

After a while you turn your body to face him. One hand is supporting you on the ground while you rest the other on his side. "Because," you pause and squeeze the hand you have on him. You're always nervous to voice the feelings you harbor deep within. But in the end you can't help being an open book for him. He makes it so easy to do so. "Because maybe I could have known you sooner. We could've had more time together. And... you wouldn't have had to be alone for centuries."

He's silent as he takes in your words, eyes never leaving you. Then an amused huff escapes him as he brings his free hand to cup your face. The smile Jing Yuan's giving you drives you insane, the one where he looks so utterly in love with you that it constricts your heart to the point it feels like it's going to burst from the overwhelming affection you have for him. Those feelings are where this thought originated from. You love him so much it makes you greedy. Greedy for him. You want his everything and you want to give him everything in turn. You hate that you've missed so much of his life. You want all of him including the past you can't have. To make him irrevocably yours, and you his.

Jing Yuan draws you closer, his thumb lovingly caressing your cheek. It brings your attention back to him. You wonder how much of your thought process he's aware of. Your noses are almost touching now. He's smiling as he speaks. "I have you now."

It takes a moment to find your voice as you find yourself lost in his eyes. "Is that enough?"

He's staring at you like he wants to get lost in yours too. "More than enough. We have our whole future ahead of us, don't we?"

Something inside of you snaps. The way he says it, like it's obvious the two of you will always be together. For a long time. It makes you delirious. Delirious with love. And you need to act on it or you really will burst. So you surge forward to kiss him. And he must have been expecting it because he's already turning on his back and taking you with him. The hand on your cheek moves to the back of your head to press you closer. Your own hands are gripping him tightly. His other hand now on your waist squeezes in response. And so the two of you lie there, luxuriating in each other's sweet kisses. You want to kiss him forever but the need to breathe wins out. You break away with a sigh. Jing Yuan's eyes gleam with mirth as he watches you and you feel as if your breath's been stolen again.

You wonder if you should say something but the only thing you're capable of coming up with is a flurry of I love you's. Jing Yuan seems to know what's rattling in your head for his gaze softens. He brings a hand up to your face again but this time you lean into it and grab it. He chuckles. "You're always so sweet for me," he says, looking so incredibly fond of you.

You hum in acknowledgement. "I love you," you mewl. You love Jing Yuan so much, how could you not want to be so sweet and good for him? He's gone through so much yet still remains so good and kind hearted without ever expecting anything in return. But you want to return it. You want to give him the love he lives by and fill his life with joy. This is the second origin of your thoughts. If you knew him longer you could've started making him the happiest man on the Luofu sooner.

"I love you, too. Very much." He says it like it's a secret just for you, all while looking horribly smitten. It sends your heart soaring. You smile at him and there's no doubt it's just as smitten as his.

Jing Yuan stills and you don't have any time to react as he's the one surging forward to kiss you this time. However this kiss is different. It's searing and tantalizing. You feel your world tilt as Jing Yuan turns to settle over you trapping you under him. His lips part briefly and then give a chaste peck before pulling away to grin at you. It's a playful grin, almost smug. He tilts his head to the side almost as if he's challenging you.

You're wide eyed as you take a moment to recover. Then you laugh and shake your head, smiling all the while. "You're such a scoundrel."

"Only for you." You can tell how much he's enjoying this from the delightful smirk he's wearing.

"Yes, yes, you're my scoundrel." You reach up to pat his head. There's a small hum as his eyes close momentarily in pleasure.

"Do you regret being loved by a 'scoundrel'?" The amusement is clearly written on his face. It's evident he knows what the only answer is.

You scoff. Fleetingly you wonder how to continue but Jing Yuan's assurance in your love for each other always makes you want to be sincere. So you smile and answer, "No. I could never."

A quiet moment passes where Jing Yuan simply returns your smile before he's leaning down to press a loving kiss to your forehead. "Good. I'm afraid there's no escaping from me now." Suddenly, you're very aware of the hands that grip your waist a little tighter and how you're effectively pinned beneath him. It's like he's saying you're his and the thought sends a thrill through you. You're in the palm of his hands now and that's your favorite place to be.

You bring up your arms to wrap them around his neck. You easily pull him closer to you. The two of you stare at each other as the silence simmers with a gentle heat. It's broken—but not gone—when you quietly tell him, "I wouldn't have it any other way. Because you can't escape from me either."

Jing Yuan practically lights up at that. He grins, pleased. "I'm all yours." You think Jing Yuan likes to enable your possessiveness. Something about it seems to fill him with satisfaction. Maybe it's knowing that someone could feel so ardently for him. That somehow you've chosen to love him and never rescind it. Or at least that's how you feel about him and his possession of you. It does make you greedy. He's greedy. He'll take whatever you give him and return it tenfold. You two are lovesick and doomed to never recover.

The thought is tickling. You laugh. There's no need for words so you simply lean forward to kiss him. He meets you halfway. You can't tell who started it but it doesn't matter. Each one speaks of the love you hold for the other.

Jing Yuan pulls away with a nip to your bottom lip. Your breath hitches. Both from the action and the way he's now looking at you. He wants to proposition you. You know he will. And he knows you'll agree. He'll be so nice and sweet as he asks you it'll leave you swooning. You both know this and yet it never gets any less exhilarating.

You can feel the anticipation grow within you as you watch him draw closer. Jing Yuan rests his forehead against yours. He's smiling. The desire in his beautiful golden eyes holds you captive. One of his hands is lightly trailing down your arm to grab your hand. He interlaces his fingers with yours. The two of you remain like that for a moment to take each other in. Finally Jing Yuan says to you, "My dear," and it's spine tingling the way he calls to you so reverently. "Allow me to express my love for you in other ways. Let me show you how good I can be for you, hm?"

His words send a delightful shiver through you. "Please, Jing Yuan," you answer him but it's more of a plead. He really is so good to you. Whatever he gives you, you also want to return tenfold. Jing Yuan gives you one last fond smile before he's up and carrying you to your shared bed. The love you have for him is bubbling up again and threatening to overflow. You also want to express it in other ways. To tether him with sweet adoration and endless devotion like he readily does to you. It's a fulfilling game of give and take neither of you want to end.

#honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #jing yuan x reader #on my knees begging and sobbing please jy just give me one chance!!!!!#genuinely cannot remember when i was this down bad for a character... jy what have you done to me.....#i need to chew glass or be sedated idk just put me out of my misery!!!!!!#jy posting

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 3 months

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AITA for making a joke about my sex life to a student? 😏🐓 Nsfw text obv i know the title sounds bad but please read everything

I (Transmasc, 25) work on a school, very open as being gay, pride pins and it all, not as a teacher but I take care of computers, textbooks and the library. The younger folk seem to like me, but it's in high school folks things get ugly. Most just don't care about me, which I can't judge, being a teen sucks. Some hate me for telling them to go back to class. The ones that like me (mostly queer/autistic folk) like me for real.

There's this one boy (he's either 16 or 17 so he's NOT a kid) that always makes fun of me, is always skipping classes, is mean to everyone, implied a old teacher she should be better off dead, bothers everyone, talk loudly and complains about everything on his sight.

And he is. Very bigoted. I saw him more than once hurting the girls he studies with (slapping/punching) and caling the whores and more, telling them to suck him off, ride his dick, gag on his cock, etc, saying very hurtful things on gay men/anyone he deemed gay, and principal can only call his parents so many times before the parents stop showing and taking the concerns seriously. This is an ongoing issue since 6th grade, as far as I know. He hates my guts since I've called the principal on him more than once for going off on me telling me to fuck myself for asking him to go back to class.

My main strategy with him is ignoring him and the second one is answering as I don't understand him. Perks of being autistic I guess, being able to do this with a straight face. So: he calls me a chicken, I tell him they're my favorite farm animal, how did he guess? They're so amazing and cute. He tells me the lunch is gross, I say they can buy their lunch to bring if they want to, school food isn't that good (not true, the school food is amazing. Most students eat more than one plate). The computers are too slow, I ask him to please be patient cause they're old men that don't like to work, be nice to them :(. Guy says that the classes sucks, I tell him that the complaint box is at (governor's address) but yea they suck but at least he has only one year left.

This is where I might be the asshole, because I hurt myself going up and down a chair to organize some textbooks and I already have severe hip/knee pain so this only made me hurt worse so I am already pretty grumpy. A teacher asks for a banner of a periodic table and I have to find the table and go up a chair to hang it, and in the process, I let out a moan of pain becaude my knees dream of my downfall, and the teacher asks me if I am okay, so I tell yea, my hips and knees just hurt like a bitch. And this one student tells me "why, are you beaten up from taking cock in your ass?" And I breath deeply and answer "If it was from fucking I would be damn happy, but it's only from working. Anyways teacher here you go (with the periodic table)" and the teacher looks me with a surprised expression and all the class is silent and uncomfortable so I just left. Now the student can't look in my eyes but at least they're not talking to me anymore and the teacher hasn't said anything. AITA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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roosterforme · 4 months

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The Intern Part 3 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley had an easy way about him that you appreciated. Working for him all summer sounded promising, and you were determined to make it fun for both of you. But as you dipped your toes into getting to know one another on the flights from San Diego to Lisbon, you ended up closer to him than you ought to be, both conversationally and physically.

Warnings: Language, brief mention of drugs (eventually 18+)

Length: 4900 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

The Intern masterlist. Check out my masterlist for more. Banner by @mak-32

"I still can't believe someone is paying me fifty thousand dollars to spend my summer on a yacht," you mused as the private Cessna jet gained altitude over the California desert landscape.

Bradley turned and looked at you from his plush leather seat across the narrow aisle and smirked. "You needed the money that badly?"

"Don't play games," you told him, and he laughed. "My point is, I would have done this for free just to get Ted off my back."

His fingers tightened a bit on his armrest, knuckles growing white as he closed his eyes and said, "Now you tell me. My department budget could be looking a lot fatter right now if it wasn't for you."

You could feel the airplane leveling out as the flight attendant, a woman named Melissa, stood and made her way back toward the two of you. "Oh please," you groaned, earning one of those grins from him that made you feel light inside. "I know how much the shareholders make, Mr. Bradshaw. It's not like it's not listed on the Nasdaq Composite if you dig deep enough."

"Can I get anything for either of you?" Melissa asked.

"I'll take an Old Fashioned, please. Hold the cherries," you replied while Bradley just shook his head in a jerky motion.

When Melissa disappeared behind the black curtain, you asked, "Why are you so tense? Have a drink and relax."

He huffed out a laugh. "It's eight in the morning. A drink is not going to help me."

You leaned a little closer, and his gaze definitely dipped down to your unzipped sweatshirt. "Don't tell me you're into something harder?" you asked, already thinking you'd be disappointed by his answer. You'd been there and done that. Hung out with and dated guys who were users, and it was not something you wanted to be around. Even out of your sorority sisters, there were only a handful who weren't high all week during grad school.

Bradley looked at you with alarm. "I'm absolutely not going to allow drugs on the yacht, Ivy League."

"Good," you replied right away, already feeling more at ease as Melissa dropped off your cocktail. "Thank you."

But she was looking at Bradley now as she said, "Please let me know if I can get you... anything."

He waved her off as you took a sip of your mediocre cocktail. Melissa had gone a little heavy handed with the bitters, probably because she was too focused on your hot boss to measure things correctly. "Take a sip," you told him, reaching across the aisle with your glass. "You look like you need it."

He grunted and accepted the drink, and a few seconds later, he had downed the whole thing. "Thanks," he whispered. "I hate this part of traveling to Europe for Avio. The flights are going to take forever."

You narrowed your eyes at him and took back your empty glass while he white knuckled the armrest again. "You were an aviator, Mr. Bradshaw."

When he looked at you again, his cheeks were a little flushed as he softly said, "You don't have to call me that. Bradley is fine."

"Bradley," you said with a smile, and his face softened a little bit. "Why don't you like the Cessna? I mean, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't also hoping for something at least a little more luxurious from Avio, but it's not that bad."

He shook his head at you, something you were pretty sure you were just going to have to get used to for the summer. But his mustache twitched as he licked his lips and said, "Maybe chartered flights are normal for you, Ivy League, but I got used to being the pilot. Of something much less comfortable than a Cessna Hemisphere. So this just feels inherently wrong to me. I mean, I just drank a cocktail."

"Inhaled," you corrected. "And technically it was my cocktail," you said, waving to Melissa and holding up the glass and two fingers.

"Semantics," he grunted. "I miss my Super Hornet right now. Not only were there no drinks, there wasn't even a bathroom."

You watched Melissa duck behind the curtain again, probably to forget how to make a cocktail again. "Well, we'll be there soon," you told Bradley.

"I doubt these pilots can do Mach 2, so not fast enough for me."

You sighed, knowing this would probably be a lot easier for him if you could get him to drink a second Old Fashioned, but when Melissa dropped two more of them off, they were both garnished with a cherry. "I asked you to hold the cherries."

"Oh, yes. Sorry," Melissa muttered. "I can remove it for you."

"I'm allergic, so I'll actually need you to remake mine," you replied, and Bradley started to hand his back as well.

"Remake hers, and mine too," he grunted, suddenly looking far less nervous about the flight as he made to stand up. "Fresh glasses and everything. I don't want cherries anywhere near her." You looked up at him in surprise as he kind of rolled his eyes and followed Melissa. "I'll make sure she does it right," he whispered, and you watched him walk up to the curtain, as confident as he usually was.

"Thanks," you replied, even though nobody was there to hear you now. Well, he had promised he'd do everything he could to keep you safe and comfortable. You watched as he crossed his arms over his broad chest, and you pressed your lips together. That blue Oxford shirt was the exact best color he could possibly wear, and you wondered if he knew it or if it was an accident that he chose it.

When he met your eyes, you didn't look away. You didn't really care if he knew you were checking him out. Until you did. Because when he walked back with two new drinks, you realized how little you knew about him. "Here," he grunted, voice deep and raspy. Then he clinked his glass to yours before sinking back into the aisle seat opposite yours again and buckling his seatbelt once more.

"Thanks for doing that."

He smiled at you. "Can't lose my intern on her first day. Especially since I've never had one before."

You perked up, loving that you'd cornered the market. "I'm your first intern?"

"Yeah." He was back to downing his drink and looking miserable now, practically throwing the empty glass aside in favor of gripping the armrest. Abandoning your drink after one sip, you stood and stepped over his outstretched legs, his eyes following your every move as you eased yourself down into the window seat next to him. "You okay?" he asked, looking a little amused now that you were just inches away from him.

"I am, but you're not," you told him with an air of authority. "Just relax," you added as you took his hand from the armrest and held it in both of yours. His brown eyes went a little wider, and his lips parted like he wanted to say something. Probably question what you were doing. But you said, "You'll feel better in a few minutes," as you worked your thumbs along the pressure points in his big, rough palm. And then he closed his eyes and without a word, he leaned back in his seat with his hand cradled in yours. Soon he was sound asleep.

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

Bradley woke up to an almost pleasant humming sound all around him. His hand was warm and wrapped up in something soft, and when he opened his eyes, your face was just a few inches from his as you slept. His body thrummed with something akin to desire as you pursed your haughty lips in your sleep, long lashes grazing your perfect cheeks.

Shit. His hand was resting on your body, fingers tangled up with yours and wrapped in your designer hoodie. His knuckles were pressed to the soft skin which was exposed between your high waisted pants and your damn sports bra. And based on the way the plane was started to descend, he'd taken a five fucking hour nap all cuddled up with his intern. With Ted's goddamn daughter.

Hands off. He'd been telling himself to keep his hands off of you, and just a few hours in, he was literally doing the exact opposite. But you'd been sweet to him, carefully massaging the pressure points in his hand until he was able to fall asleep. You must have drifted off then, too. And now he was loath to remove his hand from your body or look away from you.

He needed another fucking drink. Or several. He leaned carefully over you, and sure enough, he could see the New York skyline coming into view through the small window. And he could smell your perfume. And that was when you opened your eyes, immediately sitting up a few inches and nearly bumping noses with him.

"Sorry," he grunted. "I was just trying to see where we were."

"Where are we?" you asked, your voice soft and a little rough from sleep. Jesus, he liked the way that sounded.

"Almost to New York. Want me to ask the pilot to circle back to Philly so you can wave to your alma mater?"

You laughed and sat up a little more, arching your back, but you didn't immediately let go of him. "No, thank you. I've only been gone for a week, so I'm sure the City of Brotherly Love is enjoying this break."

Bradley found himself continually laughing at your words, but now you were looking at his hand all linked with yours, so he started to pull his free. You didn't stop him, and when you looked up at him, you even asked, "Did you sleep okay?"

He nodded his head once. "I did. Thank you. For making me feel better."

You sat up the rest of the way and stretched, and he had to look away as you said, "A good intern is good at everything."

Your words weren't dirty, so why the hell were his thoughts? He should be trying to find out more about your father, not imagining you wearing a fluffy white bathrobe while you drank an Old Fashioned sans cherry next to his bed. He was miles away in his mind when the plane touched down on the runway before taxiing to the refueling spot. His stomach was growling wildly now as Melissa walked back and offered them a very late lunch.

"I didn't want to interrupt anything," she said, looking between you and Bradley like the two of you had been all over each other. When she turned away to get the salads and sandwiches ready, you climbed over him to use the bathroom, and Bradley watched you ignore a phone call as you went. He also realized that he'd have to tread very carefully around potential clients over the next few weeks. It was one thing for Melissa to make a comment like that, but it would be something entirely different if a line like that got back to Ted.

While the plane was refueled and the pilots switched places for the longer flight from New York to Portugal, you and he ate in companionable silence. You'd returned to your seat across the aisle, and you ignored another call before tucking your phone away in your bag. Bradley also used this time to drink a gin and tonic in the hopes he'd be able to sleep again, slightly afraid you wouldn't join him on his side of the aisle to make him feel cozy again.

"We'll be taking off again in five minutes," Melissa informed him as she cleared away the meal and brought pillows and blankets. Your phone was out again now, and you ignored yet another call as Bradley shook his head.

"Are you going to keep me up at all hours of the night on the yacht yelling at your little boyfriend on the phone?"

You scoffed and looked right at him as you said, "I don't date little boys. Are you going to keep me up calling your wife and kids back in San Diego?"

He didn't want to laugh at the way you talked to him and kept him on his toes. He also registered that the way you'd let him hold your hand while he slept had only come from a platonic place if you were just now asking if he was married. "I don't have a wife or kids."

"Why not?" you asked, leaning on your armrest with your tits smashed together. "You could be married. If you wanted. You're tall and you have all your hair."

"Are those the only prerequisites?" he asked, trying not to look anywhere other than at your face. God, your little bikinis were going to be the absolute death of him if he didn't get fucking laid soon.

"No," you replied without missing a beat. "You're smart, too. Handsome. Tons of money. And you seem nice. Good manners. You make me laugh. Seems like someone would have snapped you up off the market by now."

His cheeks felt warm again as he tried to figure out how to answer. You'd just complimented him nine different ways, and he was reeling a bit. "Because I was in the Navy. Nobody in their right mind would trust a Navy guy with that level of commitment."

"Why not?"

"They lie and they cheat," he said, repeating the lines women had been telling him since he was twenty two. "Nobody you'd want to settle down with."

But you didn't look convinced as your smile tilted a little higher on one side. "Are you a cheater?"

He knew somehow he wouldn't get away with speaking anything but the plain truth to you from here on out. "No."

"I didn't think so." You looked satisfied as you settled back in your seat, about to snuggle under your blanket. The sky was a little darker now, and there was nothing below except for the Atlantic Ocean.

He had a slight buzz from the gin, and he felt a lot better than he had earlier this morning. He reached for his bag and pulled out his laptop before crooking his finger and coaxing you back to the seat next to him. "We have a little work to do, Ivy League."

While he expected you to complain, you didn't. Rather you popped out of your seat with your pillow and blanket, climbed over him and settled in the window seat once more. "What is it?" you asked eagerly, and when he logged in to his email account, he saw something from Ted right away. Just a reminder to keep himself on track.

"I'm going to teach you a little bit about the Avio software we will be marketing, so by the time we land in Lisbon, you'll know as much as I do."

You curled up with your pillow and blanket and looked at him, your words doing more to him than you probably intended. "Don't test me, Sir, or I may end up knowing more than you."

"You're a brat."

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

This time when you woke up, it wasn't to Bradley's touch or his brown eyes. This time it was to Melissa's laughter and Bradley's soft voice. "When are you flying back to the states?" she asked him as you cracked your eyes open.

"Not any time soon," he replied smoothly. "We have a lot of work to do."

"Well I hope I'm on your flight back," she said flirtatiously as you propped your head up.

But Bradley wasn't paying attention to her now as he turned your way. "You're up," he mused, and you just nodded, wishing you'd had time to shower or check how you looked before he saw you. "We'll be landing soon. And then we'll get you and your designer luggage to the yacht."

You watched Melissa roll her eyes at you before she stood. "I'll be right back with coffee and some breakfast."

"Hold the cherries! Please!" you reminded her, just to be obnoxious. When she pretended she didn't hear you, Bradley chuckled. "You know, it's kind of refreshing being given an attitude. Is this how you feel when I give you one?"

His eyes went a little wider. "Don't make me call your father."

"I thought you valued your intern," you replied with a smirk. "So don't make me spread that nasty little rumor around Avio that you went to the University of Bumblefuck."

"Virginia," he snorted.

"Whatever."

Melissa dropped off mugs, a carafe of coffee, cream, sugar and pastries. "No cherry," she said blandly as you reached for a blueberry muffin.

"Much appreciated," you replied as you peeled back the wrapper and took a nibble while Bradley ate an apple danish in two bites before he poured coffee into both mugs. Clearly the two of you were hungry. You also had no idea what time it was. You had to put your phone on silent since your dad wouldn't stop calling you, even though you told him you'd talk to him when you got on the yacht.

"How do you take your coffee?" Bradley asked as you silently chewed. You went to reach for the creamer, but he pulled it away and looked at you.

You swallowed down your muffin and said, "Cream and sugar, but you don't have to do it. I should probably be doing it for both of us."

He shrugged and got your coffee fixed up exactly the way you would have made it yourself, as he said, "You and I will be working in close proximity, and I feel like this is the kind of detail I should know."

"Well how do you take your coffee?" you asked, but he set down the cream and sugar without adding anything to his. "Black, no sugar."

"Black, no sugar," he confirmed before taking a sip. You watched the alluring scars on his neck as he swallowed, once again surprised that he wasn't married. He didn't seem as helpless as your father, but he seemed like the kind of person who should have someone warm at home when he returned from work each night. Someone to look after him.

You took a sip of your own coffee and smiled, because it really was perfect, especially for something that was made on an aircraft. "Thank you."

"Any time," he responded, and you eased back in your seat and looked out the window as the Portuguese coastline came into view. You drank your coffee and picked at the muffin, watching as the very early morning sun made the Atlantic Ocean glitter. There were marinas filled with yachts and sailboats, and you wondered if Avio's was amongst them.

"Were you on the yacht with my dad last year?" you mused as the plane dipped lower in the sky.

Bradley set his mug down, and maybe it was just you, but his features suddenly seemed a little guarded. You'd always been good at reading people, which made it easy to get a favorable response when you needed one. But he'd never looked at you this way before. "For a few days. One of my buddies from the Navy was there too. Jake Seresin."

You blinked and his expression was neutral again. "The name sounds familiar."

Bradley laughed as the plane touched down. "The face will be familiar, too. Soon enough. He's champing at the bit to get onboard for a few days here and there this summer."

You set your mug down as well and said, "Don't worry, Sir. I'll dazzle him to bits during the dinner parties."

Bradley's nostrils flared, and his pupils grew wider. "I don't doubt that."

When you laughed, he smiled before looking down at his hands. "Well, Bradley, I don't know about you, but I can't wait to get on the yacht. I wonder what kind of caviar the chef will serve for lunch."

You unbuckled your seatbelt, prompting him to do the same. "There are different kinds of caviar?" he asked, one eyebrow raised as he picked up your tote and handed it to you.

"Don't embarrass me, Bradley. The other interns will all laugh at me behind my back."

But he just shook his head as he moved to the side and said, "After you, Ivy League." So you led the way to the front of the aircraft, thanked both pilots and Melissa, even though she clearly didn't like you, and you climbed down the stairs onto the warm tarmac.

You shouldn't and absolutely couldn't keep reacting to Bradley the way you were, but when he placed his hand on your lower back and said, "This way," you nearly moaned. You looked up at him as he tried to guide you toward the waiting limousine. "Go climb in. I'll grab the bags."

"I can get my own bags," you insisted.

"I know you can, but you have nine hundred of them, and I'm still hungry, and I can do it faster."

"Fine," you replied, and you could feel his gaze on your back as you walked toward the driver who was holding the back door open for you. "Thank you." As you slid across the leather seat, you watched Bradley effortlessly lift multiple pieces of your luggage at the same time while you bit your lip. What the hell was it about him? You couldn't quite put your finger on it, but he was enjoyable to watch. His voice made you feel a little fuzzy. He was raw and genuine like your favorite pair of well worn Levi's which were tucked away in your Dior suitcase he was carrying with one massive hand.

You looked away. You counted to ten. You already knew this was going to be an issue, so you weren't sure why it was hitting you now. When you glanced his way again, he was bringing his own two, nondescript pieces of luggage to the limousine trunk, and then he was sliding across the seat next to you.

"Twenty minutes to the marina from here," he murmured, his hand coming to rest on the seat next to your thigh. "And then we can get to work."

You pursed your lips. "I was under the impression we would be playing, too."

He chuckled as you started to look through the compartments next to the seat. "We can play a little bit."

You opened what turned out to be an ice chest, and ran your fingers along a bottle of chilled Dom Perignon. "We can start with this," you said, pulling it free from the ice and holding it up.

He was looking at you, not the bottle, but that little twitch of his mustache was his tell. Even though his eyes seemed stern, he held out his hand, and asked, "Think we can finish it in twenty minutes?"

You smiled brilliantly as you handed it to him. "Don't ever ask me that again."

"Sassy," he muttered, unwrapping the foil and slowly twisting the cage loose before wiggling the cork free with his big hands until it popped. "Here you go."

"No," you insisted as the driver pulled out onto the main road. "You first. Drink to a successful summer."

Bradley nodded once and took a sip before handing you the bottle. His eyes were on your lips as you pressed them to the bottle where his had just been. "To a successful summer," he echoed, his voice a deep rumble as the city went by in a blur. You couldn't stop smiling, and neither could he, and approximately eighteen minutes later, when he helped you out of the limousine, his cheeks were flushed pink.

"Is that it?" you asked, very slowly removing your hand from his as two men rushed your way in matching gray shorts and navy polos. There was a massive yacht with Down to Business lettered across the back and Avio Technologies along the side.

"That's it," Bradley confirmed, slipping his black sunglasses on as he reached to shake hands with the two men who introduced themselves as Antonio and Nikolai. Bradley told them your name, and they both took your hand in turn. "She's my intern for the summer," he said smoothly, and then they started to unload your luggage.

"Let's go," you said, glancing back at Bradley as you started down toward the marina gate, and then he was right next to you again with a few long strides. "I hope you can find your Armani swim shorts quickly, because that pool is calling my name."

"I can, actually. One of the benefits to only bringing two suitcases." He helped you over the gap, and as soon as you were on the yacht, you felt at home. You knew this was going to be the summer you needed.

"Let's go meet the captain," he murmured, his hand finding your back again.

"Do you think he has more champagne?"

"Ivy... it's nine in the morning."

"I'm still on San Diego time."

Bradley paused for a beat while he did the math. "It's one in the morning back home."

"Exactly," you told him with a little pout that you knew wouldn't actually faze him. He just smiled as he guided you past the pool you couldn't wait to jump into and an enormous jacuzzi. You walked through a dining room that could seat twelve people and past a fully stocked bar. It was like the best offerings from your sorority house and your dad's estate all rolled into one.

"Welcome aboard!" boomed a voice with a French accent. "We've been expecting you. I'm Captain Marcell." He was probably in his sixties with gray hair and a matching beard, and he reminded you a bit of your favorite professor at UPenn.

"Pleasure," you replied, shaking his hand after Bradley told him your name.

Next to him were lined up two friendly looking women, one with short brown hair and one with long brown hair. Beatriz and Lucia, the stewardesses, would be taking care of everything you needed. And next to them was an attractive man wearing a bit of a scowl.

"I'm Rocco. The chef. I can make anything. I don't like changing the menu at the last minute."

Oh, you liked him already as you shook his hand. And then your heart fluttered as Bradley said, "I need to speak with you about removing any cherries from the yacht before we leave the marina."

"Cherries?" Rocco asked, scowling deeper.

Bradley glanced at you as he removed his sunglasses, and his mustache twitched. "Yes. Can't have any onboard. That applies to the kitchen and the bars. My intern has an allergy."

"I'll take care of it," Rocco replied before turning away, and you'd never been more certain that someone would take care of something in your life. Then Captain Marcell handed Bradley a folder.

"Rough itinerary. Weather report for the week. List of phone numbers. Please let me know how long you'd like to spend in each port. I can of course adjust anything as needed. Now if you will select your cabins, Antonio and Nikolai will deliver your luggage."

"Thank you," Bradley replied, handing the folder to you. "You're in charge of this. Now why don't we head down so you can choose a room?" He nodded his head toward a wide set of stairs.

You walked down to the lower deck, and once you and he were alone again, he pointed to the left. "The sooner we get settled, the sooner the swim trunks come out?" you asked softly.

"Something like that." His soft chuckle was right behind you as you stopped at a mint green door with gold trim.

"Is this my room?" you asked, placing your hand on the doorknob. There was a little keypad next to it.

"If you want it to be," he replied. "Or, there are three others you can choose from."

"Which one are you taking?"

His eyes flitted from your face to a spot a little further down the hallway. "White door."

When you turned to investigate, you saw a pink door directly across from that one. "Wouldn't it be easier if my room was near yours?"

"Probably." His expression was neutral, but that damn mustache was giving him away.

"I'll take the pink one."

"Very good. I'll get the room codes from Beatriz, and I'll tell them where to deliver the luggage."

"Great," you replied, still standing close to him, but he didn't move.

"Perfect," he said, brown eyes focused on yours. The hallway was narrow, and now he was placing his hands on his trim hips, taking up even more space. "Try not to get into too much trouble while you look around."

Finally he turned toward the stairs, but you called his name right away. "Bradley?" He glanced back over his shoulder with a questioning look. "Thanks for mentioning the cherries."

"Sure," he replied easily. "I got you, Ivy." Then he was walking back up the stairs and out of sight.

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

We are about to set sail. Let's get into a little trouble. Let's have a little fun. Already feeling a little tension between Bradley and Ivy League. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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callsign-dexter · 6 months

Text

Baby Bradford Meets The Rookies

Summary: Tim's babysitter can't pick Y/N up after school. So, Tim does and brings her back to the station where The Rookies are in for a surprise.

Pairings: Tim Bradford x Daughter!Reader

Warnings: fluff

Masterlist

Baby Bradford: A Little Fighter

Banner done by @callsigns-haze

Neither Tim nor his daughter, Y/N, were a morning person. This is why when his alarm goes off in the mornings he lets her sleep in as long as he can because dealing with a grumpy 7-year-old.

Tim loves his daughter, he has ever since she was born. Her mother, Isabel, left when she was 6 years old but even then she wasn't really a mother to their little girl always in and out of undercover. She cared more about the job than she did her husband, now ex-husband, or child. When she went undercover and didn't come back, Tim went to court and got full custody of their daughter. Isabel wasn't happy about it but signed the papers and was out of her life for good. Y/N favored Tim the most out of both of her parents. While Tim was gone for work he would drop her off at school in the morning and then her babysitter, a sweet 26-year-old woman named Marina Bailey, Y/N absolutely loved her.

Tim's alarm went off at 6:30 AM and it slowly roused him awake and he was turning over and turning it off. He sat up and threw the covers off and sat on the edge of the bed. He ran his hand down his face waking him up and getting the sleep out of his eyes. He stood up and stretched and walked out of the bedroom towards the kitchen but first, he stopped by his daughter's room to check on her. Tim opened the door and smiled seeing her curled up facing the wall sound to sleep he shut the door quietly and walked into the kitchen. Y/N didn't have to be up until 7:00 AM.

Tim got the coffee grounds out and scooped out what he needed and started the coffee maker. While it was brewing he made her lunch and then he went back into his bedroom and started to get ready for work. He also packed a bag with extra clothing and miscellaneous stuff and walked it into the kitchen. He then went back took a quick shower and brushed his teeth and put on his clothes for the day, he would change into his uniform at the station, and watch. He looked at his watch and it was 7:00 AM, time to wake his daughter up.

Tim walked to his daughter's room and opened the door quietly. She had moved positions and now was sprawled out in the middle of her bed with her covers thrown off and he smiled and chucked. He walked into her room and to her bed and knelt down. She moved to another position to where she was facing him. He started to speak to her slowly and softly "Y/N/N, it's time to get up." He said and she groaned and scrunched her nose up.

"No." She said and buried her head into her pillow and he smiled and here starts the wake up process.

"Yes, it's time to get up and get ready for school." He said running a hand gently through her hair.

"There isn't any school today." She said opening her eyes not happy to be awake.

"If there wasn't I wouldn't be waking you up. I also would've known." Tim said and she groaned knowing she had lost the fight.

"Fine." She said and started to get up and he stood up and watched her for a minute.

"If you need me. Yell for me." He said and she nodded and he left the room. He walked back into the kitchen where the now-finished coffee was done brewing and grabbed a cup poured some in and began drinking it. He made himself busy around the house. He looked down at his watch and it was only 7:15 AM. He was about to start something else when Y/N yelled out for him.

"Daddy?" She asked loud enough for him to hear from the kitchen, he put his coffee cup down and headed to the bathroom where she was at the sink in her clothing for the day and teeth brushed.

"Yes, Baby Girl?" He asked

"Can you do my hair?" She asked looking at him through the mirror with puppy dog eyes. Tim always hated doing hair but since Isabel wasn't around he had to learn and he got pretty damn good at it. Damn good that almost all the moms were jealous.

"Of course, Baby Girl. How do you want it done?" He asked and the brightest smile appeared on her face.

"French Braid." She said confidentiality.

"You got it!" He said and got to work. It was only 7:20 AM and they had to leave by 7:30 AM to get to her school that was 20 minutes away. Tim got done in no time and stood back looking at his work and smiled the same smile that appeared on his daughter's face. "How did I do?" He asked and she nodded turning to him.

"It's perfect." She said and he kissed her forehead and they headed to the kitchen so she could eat breakfast and then they would be on their way.

When she was done she put her dishes in the sink while he filled a thermos of coffee for him and grabbed her lunch while she grabbed her backpack and picked up his duffle bag. She started to walk out while he walked behind her toward the truck. "Remember Marina is picking you up after school." He said as she hopped up in the truck and she put her stuff beside her and he helped her strap in.

"You got it, Daddy." She said and he smiled and shut the door and got in the driver's side throwing his duffle bag in the front seat. He started the engine and backed out of the driveway and onto her school. They arrived at the school at 7:50 AM a teacher opened the door and greeted them.

"Good morning!" Mrs. Woods said and they both smiled at her.

"Good morning!" Y/N said and she un-buckled herself "I love you, Daddy." She said.

"I love you too." He said and she leaned up and kissed him on the cheek and he did the same. Mrs. Woods helped her out as she grabbed her stuff and headed into the school. Tim drove off once they were in the school and onto work.

Tim arrived at the station and parked his truck, he killed the engine and grabbed his duffle bag and headed inside. He greeted everyone and then walked into the locker room and changed into his uniform. Not many people were in there besides Jackson West and John Nolan. "Good morning, Officer Bradford." Nolan said trying to get on his good side.

"Good morning, Rookies." Tim says as he finishes putting his uniform on and then starts his trip to the briefing room. When he gets there he sits by Angela Lopez and Talia Bishop.

"How's Y/N?" Angela asks him and he turns to look at her.

"Doing good. Asked me to braid her hair this morning and I did. She also tried to tell me there wasn't any school today." He said and the two females chuckled.

"How convincing was she?" Talia asked after the chuckling died down.

"Not very." He said and just then Lucy Chen, Nolan, and Jackson walked in and then Wade Grey walked in to start the day. The briefing was over quickly and then they were heading out on patrol.

Nothing exciting happened on patrol although everyone made a few arrests and some had to break up fights. It was nearing lunch time and everyone decided to stop at their regular place. As everyone was sitting and eating and talking Tim's phone began to ring. At first, he didn't pay attention to it "Aren't you going to answer that?" Angela asked him and he pulled out his phone to see that it was Marina.

"It's Marina. I need to take this." He said and got up and walked away from the group as he answered it.

"Hello." He said

"Hey, Tim. It's Marina." Marina said and he smiled she always greeted him like this.

"What's wrong?" He asked her wondering why she was calling in the middle of the day.

"I'm not going to be able to pick up Y/N from school. A family emergency came up." She said and he nodded understanding.

"That's perfectly fine. I'll pick her up. Everything ok?" He asked and she sighed.

"My mom is in the hospital and they don't know what for I was the only one available to be with her." She said

"If you need anything don't hesitate to call. You take as much time as you need. I hope everything turns out ok." He said

"Thank you. I'm sorry again." She said

"No need to apologize. I get it. Family comes first." He said

"Again thank you so much. Have a good day." She said

"You too." He replied and they both hung up the phone and he walked over to Angela and Talia.

"Everything ok?" Angela asked.

"Marina had a family emergency come up so she can't pick up Y/N." Tim said as he sat down and took a bite of food.

"Who is gonna pick her up?" Talia asked

"Lucy and I will." Tim said and everyone nodded.

"They haven't met her yet. It's going to be interesting." Angela said and they all laughed.

"I need to call Grey and let him know." Tim said and they nodded as he pulled his phone once again and hit Grey's number to call him. It rang twice before he answered.

"Officer Bradford, how can I help you?" He asked

"Marina can't pick up Y/N after school so had a family emergency. I need to pick her up." Tim said

"That's perfectly fine. She can hang out here until your shift ends." Grey said and Tim nodded.

"Thank you, sir." He said

"Anything for you and that little girl. You know Luna would love to help out and watch her when she needs to." Grey said and Tim smiled.

"I'll definitely keep that in mind." He said and then they said bye to each other and hung up.

As he was hanging up a call came in and he responded to it letting dispatch know that he and Lucy were on the way.

**********************************************

"Oh, what call do you think Tim just took?" Jackson asked as they watched him sit back down at the table.

"Who knows. Any guesses?" Nolan asked and they just shrugged.

"Not that I can think of." Lucy said now wanting to get to the bottom of what her TO was hiding.

"I think he has a kid." Nolan said and they looked at him.

"Why do you think that?" Jackson asked

"Just a gut feeling. He just seems like a dad." Nolan said and they still looked at him weirdly.

"Tim, hard ass, doesn't take any shit, and makes no mistakes Tim?" Lucy asked and Nolan nodded as he took a bit of his food. The rest of lunch was spent eating in silence while the rookies thought it over until Lucy and Tim had a call and they were off to it.

**********************************************

The call was just a disturbance call and it was quickly dealt with. Tim looked at his watch and saw that it read 2:20 PM and this caught Lucy's eye. "Do we have somewhere to be?" She asked looking at him and Tim looked at her as they stopped at a stoplight.

"Matter in fact, Boot. We do." He said

"Are you going to tell me?" She asked and he didn't say a word just turned on his right turning signal and headed towards the elementary school. Lucy took notice of this. "Why are we going to the elementary school? We didn't get a call." She said and again he didn't say anything. Tim pulled into the parking lot and pulled up to the front of the school.

"You stay here. I'll be back." He said as he parked the shop and headed towards the entrance of the school. Lucy watched in full curiosity, her window was down so she could hear everything going on. Nothing happened and so she took her phone out when she heard a shriek and she looked up making sure nothing was wrong and the sight that she saw warmed her heart.

"Daddy!" A little girl yelled and Tim bent down for her to rush into his arms.

"Baby Girl!" He yelled back and kissed her and she giggled and picked her up and started to carry her towards the shop.

"I thought Marina was supposed to pick me up." She said

"She had a family emergency. So you're going to come back to the station with me and hang out until it's time to go home." He said and she shrieked.

"Yay!" She yelled out. He opened the back door and sat her in and buckled her in and got into the front. Lucy was shocked, he did have a heart and could smile she turned to the little girl that was looking at her and Tim noticed.

"Y/N this is Lucy Chen. Lucy this is Y/N Bradford my daughter." Tim said and a smile appeared on both of girls faces.

"Hi." She said quietly.

"Hi. It's nice to meet you." Lucy said and Y/N blushed and looked down. The car ride was filled with questions and talking.

**********************************************

It didn't take long for them to make it back to the station and pull into the garage. Tim parked and shut the engine off and opened the door where he helped her get out and grabbed her stuff. The three of them walked further into the station while Y/N chatted with her father about school and playing with the collar of his uniform.

Nolan and Jackson were there and they were surprised to see Tim with a child. They were stunned in silence until Jackson spoke up "Officer Bradford did you find a missing child?" He asked the question that everyone was wondering but Lucy.

"No, Boot. This is Y/N Bradford, my daughter." Tim said as Y/N buried further into her father's neck being shy. "Y/N say hi." He said and she looked at them.

"Hi." She said giving them a wave.

"I knew it. Hi Y/N I'm Nolan." Nolan said already attached to the little girl.

"I'm Jackson." Jackson said

"Hi." She said and gave a wave just then Angela and Talia walked in and she lit up like a Christmas tree. "AUNT ANGIE, AUNT TALIA!" She screeched out and wiggled to be put down and he did so taking her bag off of her back and watching as she ran to them. They bent down and hugged her.

"Hey, sweet girl. How was school?" Angela asked and she started to tell them about her day as she picked her up and walked over to the rest of the group.

"It was good! We didn't learn anything interesting." She said and they all chuckled and Tim rolled his eyes the same answer he always got. Angela looked at Jackson.

"We need to go." She said and he nodded as Tim took Y/N back.

"Bye Aunt Angie and Jackson!" She yelled pit over Tim's shoulder and waved at them and they waved back and then they were gone.

"Ok, Y/N/N. I need to take you to Officer Grey. Say bye to everyone." He said and she turned around and did as she was told and he walked off with her.

"I knew he was a father." Nolan said watching him interact with his daughter in Grey's office.

"He's a good one. He's been pretty much raising her all by himself for 7 years." Talia said

"Really?" Lucy asked and she nodded.

"Yea. Isabel cared more about being undercover than raising her child." Talia said as Tim came back to the group.

"Alright. Let's get back to work." He said and everyone nodded.

**********************************************

It was the end of the shift for them and they all headed back to the station. Cars were parked and everyone went and changed. Tim was the first one to change and head to his little girl. She was fast asleep on the couch in Grey's office. He knocked and Grey looked up and waved him on in. "Wasn't too much trouble was she?" He asked and he shook his head.

"Not at all. She's too much like you. Luna came by with supper and we ate together. I told her the situation and she 100% is on board to help." He said and they both chuckled. Tim picked her up without waking her and grabbed her stuff looking at him.

"I might just take you up on that offer." He said and Grey nodded.

"Just let us know." He said and Tim nodded and headed on his way. As they were walking everyone came out of the locker room and started walking with them.

"She's just so adorable." Nolan said and everyone nodded in agreement as Tim pushed her up further onto him.

"Thank you." Tim said they followed them to Tim's truck which was right beside Nolan’s and Jackson's and Lucy's not too far away. Talia and Angela had to do something before leaving. Tim put Y/N in the truck and in her carsest.

"Hey if you need any help or someone to watch her, I'll happily do it." Nolan said

"I second that." Jackson said

"Count me in." Luchy said and Tim nodded and smiled.

"Thank you guys, that means so much." Tim said really grateful that he introduced her to The Rookies. They all parted ways.

When Tim and Y/N got home it was late and he picked her up and took her. He would grab their stuff later. He unlocked the door and into the house and straight to her room. He got her changed and tucked in. He kissed her head "I love you." He said and then walked out cracking the door. He was definitely glad he introduced her to them. He knew that they would protect her like she was their own and no harm was going to come to her.

Tag list:

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#Baby Bradford: A Little Fighter #tim bradford x daughter!reader fanfiction #tim bradford x daughter!reader imagines #tim bradford x daughter!reader fandom #tim bradford x daughter!reader fanfic #the rookie x daughter!reader #the rookie x daughter!reader imagines #the rookie x daughter!reader fanfic #the rookie x daughter!reader fandom #the rookie x daughter!reader fanfiction #the rookie imagine #the rookie fanfiction #the rookie fanfic #the rookie

333 notes · View notes

thought--bubble · 4 months

Text

Like A Dream

Tom Bennett X (Pregnant Wife Reader)

Warnings Below

Word Count: 1,954

Tom Bennett Masterlist

Full Masterlist

Based on THIS request

Banners by @arcielee

A/N: Writing this came so naturally to me. I had my daughter young and was looking my best right before I got pregnant, so I used personal experience for this one 🥰 also I did an abnormal amount of research regarding the rarity of grapes during this time period and how special it would be for someone to find them available for purchase 🤣🤣

Warnings:: Body Dysmorphia, pregnancy, minor depression,smut, oral sex (F receiving)

"You alright love?" Your husband asks from his place on the sofa as you walk through the front door.

You sigh. "Yes, Tom," you carry the few bags with food you picked up from the market and place them on the kitchen counter.

Ever since Tom found out you were pregnant, he fawns over you. He hates the idea of you lifting a finger in your delicate condition. The problem? You are a very independent person and like your freedom.

"Not too convincing." he rises from the couch and goes to the counter, peeking through the bags to see what you bought.

"Mmmm, they had grapes!" He plucks a grape off the vine and pops it into his mouth.

"Tom!" You playfully hit his arm."They should be washed first! You don't know who had their hands all over em before I bought em!"

"I survived war, love." He leans his back against the counter. "Don't think a grape is gonna do me in when bombs couldn't"

"Yeah, well, they can still make ya sick, and I'm already sick every morning. Can't have the two of us going. " You huff and sit down in one of the old creaky wooden chairs that sit around the scuffed up second-hand table you successfully purchased off a neighbor about a year ago.

"Hey...." He leans down towards you and pushes your hair back. "You're tired and stressed, darlin. Let me take care of this, yeah?"

"I can do it." You grumble, annoyed, and try to pull yourself from the seat, but your near end of term pregnancy belly made standing an incredibly challenging endeavor.

Tom gives you a stern look. "More stubborn than I am." He gives you that cheeky smile, and you playfully roll your eyes.

"That's not possible" Tom is the most stubborn person on the planet as far as you were concerned and you know for a fact that even on your worst day you couldn't possibly be more stubborn than the man you married.

"Ah! I always knew ya married me for my looks." He wiggles his eyebrows at you as he unloads the groceries.

"What can I say? You got me with those blue eyes, and that smile." You look at him lovingly. You married him for a million reasons. He had pursued you relentlessly for weeks before you finally caved and went out with him. You didn't have any reason you made him wait other than thoroughly enjoying watching him try to convince you of something you already wanted desperately.

"Thank God for my parents! They gave me the good stuff!" He chuckles loudly, and you watch him in awe. Tom had this aura about him. He exudes confidence. Tom is handsome. He knows it, and he embraces it. You hardly ever see him without a smile on his face, and he takes almost nothing seriously.

You sigh to yourself as you move to try and pull yourself out of the chair again. Pregnancy is a magical thing. You know this. You feel it, yet you can't help the way it has you feeling about the body it leaves behind.

Your face is fuller. Something people have been complimenting you on, yet you hate it. Your hips are wider, and your already plump thighs have somehow grown bigger.

The discomfort with the changes in your body started gradually, but as you near the end of your pregnancy, less and less do you like what stares back at you in the mirror.

The tears start to well up in your eyes as you fight a losing battle to hold them back.

"Hey..hey! What is going on, love?" Tom crouches before you cupping your cheeks on either side of your face. He furrows his brows in obvious concern. "Talk to me," he gently rubs his thumb against your cheekbone. His heart breaks a little as he looks into your tear filled eyes. Upset with himself that you are this sad, and he didn't notice until now.

You take in a shakey breath and look at him with despair. "I'm a terrible mum, and the baby isn't even here yet." The flood gates break open, and tears finally start to pour down your face.

"W-why... why would you say that?" He scootches closer to you, placing his hands on either side of your thighs and rubbing his hands up and down.

"I should be happy! A good mother would be happy, but..." The tears are pouring out of your face now, the sadness, guilt, and shame bubbling over and making you feel like you have lost complete control over your emotional state.

"But what, sweetheart?" He drops down to his knees, pushing himself between your legs while he continues to caress your thighs. "You can talk to me, oh darlin, please talk to me."

"I ... I ... I ... I hate it!" You start to sob your face in your hands. "I'm tired, everything aches, it's difficult to move, and all that would be bearable if .... if i didn't look so disgusting now"

"Disgusting??" Tom balks at the statement. "Someone say something to you?" His face contorts in anger. "Was that Mike arse three doors down, wasn't it?" Tom nearly growls. "That's about how much he hates me nothing to do with you, darlin. I'll go sort him." Tom shoots up quickly, tossing on his jacket.

"TOM!" You screech just as he is about to fly out the front door, most likely to rearrange Mike's face. Mike and Tom do not like each other it is certainly not a secret in your neighborhood. Yet Mike has never been anything but pleasant to you. After all, his issue was with Tom, and he wasn't going to take that out on you for simply being Tom's wife.

"No one said anything to me, I have eyes! And a mirror! I can see it clearly for myself!" His heart shatters completely when he hears the crack in your voice, his jaw drops, and he wants to retort but quickly stops himself. The priority is you. He needs to take care of you, so as aggravated as he is, he softens his features and turns back to you.

He drops his jacket on the back of one of the other kitchen chairs and takes your hand. "Let's get you into bed, you need rest" You sniffle and nod as he places your hand in his, while gently holding your lower back with the other making sure to get you out of the chair in the most comfortable way possible.

Once you're up and walking, he wraps an arm around you, gently leading you up the stairs and into the bedroom . He helps you get into the bed, raising your legs and sliding them in before crawling in next to you, his face directly across from yours as you both lay on your side facing each other.

"Thank you," your whisper is gentle with a hint of lingering sadness as he reaches over and caresses right under your eye with his thumb.

"You. are. beautiful." He moves closer to you and puts his forehead against yours "Always".

You chuckle slightly. "You are a good husband, Tom Bennett." You lean forward and kiss him gently.

He pulls back from you, cupping your face in his hands. "Look at me"

You look him directly in the eyes. Yours are still a bit watery, so you try to blink back the tears.

"You. are. beautiful." He repeats."You are always beautiful, don't you ever forget that. Big, pregnant, bald even, you are always beautiful"

You giggle and sigh. "You're too good to me"

"Aven't been good enough love. Or you wouldn't feel like this. " He kisses you softly but deeply while gently rolling you onto your back.

"Been neglectin' ya. Work and allat." He kisses down your neck."I'll make it up."

You hum contentedly and place your hand on the back of his head. Arousal builds up in your core, but you're so tired you don't know if you have it in you right now.

"Don't know if I have the energy for this right now." You chuckle as you close your eyes, just enjoying the feeling of him on your neck.

"Just lie back and relax. This is all about you"

He moves down your body, placing a delicate kiss to your belly before pushing your dress up around your hips.

"Oh Tom, you don't have to do this." You say as he pulls your knickers down your legs.

" I wish I did have to do it. Wish it was an everyday requirement, but I guess I have to settle for doing it when you'll let me. " He brings his hands to your heat, pushing your legs out wider.

"Stunning site, really,"

"Tom!" You chuckle and reach down to give him a whack, but he catches your hand and holds it.

He licks a stripe straight up your center. Your hand squeezes his tight, letting him know the pleasure that is building up.

He gently flicks your bundle of nerves with the tip of his tongue, bringing his free hand to your hip and rubbing circles there with his thumb.

You involuntarily move your hips, desperate for more friction. "You're supposed to be relaxin," he taunts

He returns to your clit swallowing it whole and sucking on it harshly while rolling his tongue over it.

"Oh god, Tom!" You can't help but yell out, your hips taking on a mind of their own as you move against his face.

He smiles against you as he releases your clit nudging it with his nose as he travels lower lapping up your juices before sticking his tongue inside.

Your eyes fly open as you look at the ceiling above you, panting harshly. If someone asked you your name right now, you wouldn't even know the answer. Your head is completely empty of everything, save for the pleasure you are experiencing.

His brings his hand off your hip, the other still grasping your hand tightly. He rubs at your clit with his thumb as he fucks you with his tongue.

"Ahhh. Ahh!" You squeeze his hand tightly as you writhe against his face, getting closer and closer to sweet release.

His hand and tongue switch places as he slides two fingers into you while sucking on your engorged nerve.

"Oh my god, Tom, I can't. I can't!" You don't know what you can't do. You just know that you can't.

He pulls back momentarily. " Oh yes, you can love, and ya will"

He brings his face back to your heat moving it from side to side over your clit while he increases the speed of his fingers.

Everything that happens now is automatic. Your legs lift up and squeeze his head as you arch your back and gasp for air as a title wave of pleasure washes over you.

Tom gives you a few more kitten licks as you ride out your high and stops when you start to twitch.

he crawls back up next to you and flops on his back, panting. "You're. .....beautiful.... don't.... ever... doubt .... that" he rolls onto his side and gazes at your face. "Promise me"

"I promise I'll try Tom." He knows that is the best answer he is going to get out of you so he just smiles.

"While we're talking about promises, I need you to make just one more tiny promise," he grins at you cheekily, sliding his body over so he is right up against yours.

"What?"

He takes your hand and places it over the massive bulge in his trousers

"That you'll help me with this"

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jeonqkooks · 1 year

Text

isn't it romantic? | myg (01)

ENTRY ONE: Me Before You

⟶ SERIES MASTERPOST

Many things in life have a polar opposite: left and right, night and day, yin and yang, you and Min Yoongi... Hopeless romantic meets gloomy cynic. The only thing you seem to share is a magazine column but even then, you still can’t seem to understand how Yoongi can be called ‘The Love Doctor’ when he is the antithesis of everything love represents.

pairing: yoongi x f!reader; side/past taehyung x f!reader

rating: 18+ (minors dni)

genre/warnings: coworkers to lovers, magazine writers au, fluff, angst, eventual smut; central themes of cheating (not between yoongi and oc), swearing (a staple in this household 😗), one bit is a lilllll suggestive?, mentions of drinking, i think that's it hmmm, barely edited bc u know how we do

word count: 5.1k

note: this is the yoongi brainrot speaking !!! the banner for this entry is one of my all time favorite pics of him and i will find a way to use it in everything !!! but erhm yeah iir is officially starting and i'm very curious to see what y'all think about it 😗 please like it haha jk no i'm serious please like it it's my baby

— as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

I waste my breath on a prayer, you don't care, I was never a part of your plan, You can't make a God of somebody, Who's not even half of a half-decent man.

I Burned LA Down - Noah Cyrus

Half your life, you hated blue.

You often associated it with so many bad things - loss, betrayal, loneliness. The great big storm. The end of life.

Most of the pigtails-wearing girls in your class disliked it because it was often a boy’s color. You hated it because of a stranger on a beach.

Then you discovered Blue Side (as ironic as the name was), the magazine that everybody and their mother was reading. There was this column - the Love Maze (as corny as it sounded) - that had your 15-year-old self hooked from the first article you read, “Flirty Pickup Lines to Text Your Crush”. It gave you a nice little distraction from the reality of your fucked up family.

You’d get home from school and dive right into it. You could count on the maze for a new article every day, covering all kinds of things - cute little quizzes, daily love horoscopes, relationship tidbits…

You started reading it religiously because it was stupid, and fun, but it was more than that too. They covered real-life stories of actual people, which you’d never really thought about. For the most part, it was tedious. Rekindling with an old flame whilst grocery shopping, accidentally spilling coffee on a stranger who then asked you out on the spot, etc. Things like that. You found them so… unremarkable.

But then it went beyond that, when they told their stories looking back on years and years after that first happenstance. How there was love in the mundane. How there was love every single day, even on the bad ones. How there was a spark that two people cared for and nurtured into a warm fire that never burnt out.

How there was love.

How there was always love.

To you, that was magical. It was something you’d only ever heard about in fairytales when you were a kid.

You still remember the exact moment when it all changed for you.

You met Kim Taehyung during your third week at Blue Side, where you were a wide-eyed assistant editor who somehow wiggled her way into a position there, and he was an effortlessly charming graphic designer.

Admittedly, the first time that you two had ever talked, wasn’t under ideal circumstances. You were tucked away behind the office building, nails digging into your palms at 3PM on a sunny but freezing afternoon, willing your tears to stay where they belonged. You’d felt severely underqualified, like you were only flailing about, trying to keep your head above water but something kept pulling at your feet, not stopping until you were at the very bottom. People always talked about how your early 20s were the most beautiful and freeing years, when you could truly live and feel your youth blossom all around you. But that just wasn’t true. Those were the loneliest years of your life.

Taehyung had found you then, while he was out for a quick smoke break. He could’ve made a lame excuse and left, or simply pretended to not notice you were even there, but he stayed. He approached you and asked what was wrong. He offered you words of reassurance and encouragement even though you were nothing but a stranger to him.

You were touched by his simple act of kindness and his endearing smile. Maybe it’s because you’d never been offered much kindness throughout your life that his small gesture seemed like everything. In a way, it was everything. He looked like the kind of fairytale love that you’d only seen in movies, only read about in Love Maze. To this day, a part of you still thinks that you fell in love with him the very second he asked, “Are you okay?”

The timing felt right.

Taehyung felt right.

He, too, was like the sun in the middle of a cold and isolating winter.

You remember the color of his sweater, and it was then that you realized blue didn’t have to be so bad after all.

[15:39] You: what r u doing tonight?

[15:45] Tae ♡: probably just head home after the gym. play a couple matches with Jungkook. hope i don’t die boiling water for ramen and hit the hay early

[15:46] Tae ♡: miss you :(

[15:49] You: thanks

[15:52] Tae ♡: mean

[15:53] You: lol 😇

[15:54] You: i miss you too <3

[15:56] Tae ♡: can’t you come back earlier?

[15:58] You: there’s only a week left. you’re a big boy, u can handle it :)

That was a lie. You were already on the train when you sent him that text, bouncing your leg all the way back to the city at the mere thought of surprising him with your early return. You’d taken a leave from work to visit your family, spent some time somewhere quieter, away from the hustle and bustle of the big city.

You watch as the scenery passes by, fast-paced like you’re in a montage. The rest of forever is right around the corner. You wish you could skip to your happily ever after and not have to rewind the tape ever again.

When the diamond on your ring finger catches the sunlight coming from outside the window, you allow yourself a blissful sigh as you gaze at the jewelry adorning your hand. But if you’re being honest, it doesn’t fit anymore, at least that’s what you’ve noticed over the past month. It’s a little loose now, not quite noticeable but you can still make out the slight difference if you concentrate hard enough. You should get it resized soon, maybe later this week now that your schedule has cleared up earlier than expected.

Three weeks is a lot of time to spend around only your family, you realize. You thought you could do it - seeing that you hadn’t been back in a while - but the second you stepped foot into your childhood home, you remembered what a dysfunctional household you had.

It was nice while it lasted, which wasn’t very long. You did all you could, bit your tongue and tried to suppress that unresolved anger until it eventually became too much to handle. Your mom has always been a complainer. Nobody likes talking about it, but she’d bring up the same old shit almost every day even though you all know what happened. Your dad would just sit there and listen as she berates him in front of you and your sister, and you suppose he keeps quiet because there’s really nothing to be said in his defense. It was his crime, and this is his punishment.

Sometimes, you wonder why dad still stays. Sometimes, you wonder why mom still lets him.

You just wanted to go, even though this was supposed to be home. You want to leave every time you visit, and it’s a haunting feeling that keeps following you around your whole life. Why is home always a place you want to leave?

When you arrived back in the city, the first place you went to was Taehyung’s apartment. You lounged about, enjoying the much needed silence after two whole weeks with your family, killing time as you waited for your fiance to return from work.

You thought about you and Taehyung, and how your wedding was only months away but this was still his place. You wondered why you hadn’t moved in yet, though it wasn’t for a lack of trying on his part. Even though you spent most days of the week at Taehyung’s, you still had your own place.

Twenty minutes before he was usually supposed to come home, you ordered from his favorite restaurant, so he would have a proper meal once he was back, instead of half-assing his dinner with flavorless ramen like he’d planned.

But Taehyung didn’t come back, and the food has been cold for hours now.

You glance at your phone again.

11:02 PM.

No new notifications.

The last message you sent him was around 8:30 - just a simple Whatcha doing? - but he hasn’t replied.

There’s a small part of you that goes into a dark place, and you physically have to shake off the thoughts. Taehyung has never given you a reason not to trust him, but still, the wandering thoughts can’t help themselves. Is it insecurity, or paranoia? Or have you been programmed to be skeptical after everything that’s happened?

Maybe he’s just caught up with work. Maybe the guys at the office had last minute plans. Maybe Jungkook showed up unannounced and dragged Taehyung into one of his shenanigans again. There’s a lot of reasons to explain why he isn’t home when he said he would be.

You wait for him. Sometimes, waiting is all you can do.

You don’t get any indication of life until some time after midnight, when the door opens and you hear him stumble into the hallway. The first thing that escapes you is a sigh of relief - relieved that he’s home, safe and sound, and not out there somewhere doing things you would really not even let yourself imagine. You sit there on the couch, shrouded by darkness, now even more committed to making him squeal out of his skin after (unintentionally) making you wait for hours like that.

You carefully listen to the sounds coming from down the hall, trying to time when you’ll jump up and shock him.

There’s his shoes dropping to the floor carelessly. There’s some shuffling as he moves about, navigating his way through the dark. There’s a light thud, the sound of something hitting the wall softly.

A sharp intake of breath. His familiar groan, muffled. A whimper, feminine.

Your mind instantly blanks, and that nervous breath from before has suddenly found its way back into your lungs, growing in size until you stand up and say, “Tae?”

Somebody shrieks, and it’s neither you nor Taehyung.

When he switches on the lights, you don’t know what to focus on first - your fiance with his shirt unbuttoned, red lipstick smudged around the corners of his mouth; or the woman next to him with her back against the wall, hair disheveled, one strap of her pretty blue dress pulled down.

Huh.

If this was what you wanted, then you suppose you succeeded.

Taehyung stares at you, eyes blown wide, mouth opening and closing dumbly as he searches for words. “Y/N, I-” he stutters, “w-what are you doing here?”

You’ve seen this exact moment in movies, read it in books and online posts on the Blue Side forum from people seeking advice. You witnessed your own mother go through it when you had just learned how to read.

Your nails dig into the palm of your hands as you steady yourself. You’re not sure what your face is showing, if it’s even showing anything at all. You’re being pulled apart in every direction. Things that you felt as a child are things you never wanted to feel as an adult. It’s not until now that you finally understand why mom hasn’t gotten over it, even though it’s been decades. This is the kind of hurt that chases you wherever you go, never relenting until it makes sure it has a home deep within your bones.

You inhale a shaky breath, and take a step back when Taehyung starts approaching you. “Y/N, I’m so sorry,” he says, his voice cracking on the apology.

You don’t want to hear any of it. You don’t want to be here anymore. For the second time today, you’re leaving home. For the second time in your life, home is being taken away again.

Somewhere in the back of your head, a tiny voice echoes, There it is.

You run out of there, feeling like the ceiling is going to collapse on you. You hear him call out your name, but his voice drifts further and further away as you move. Taehyung isn’t even following you. The faint scent of whiskey on his breath follows you out, but not him.

You keep moving until you’re out on the street, until you can’t even see the building anymore. You shiver from the chilly air, and the influx of emotions that threatens to make you burst. Lightning cuts across the night sky, flashing bright for a split second before everything dulls into darkness again. The forecast said it was going to rain tonight, you recall. Your phone in your bag vibrates the whole time, but still, no one follows you.

Your feet slow to a halt when the first drop of rain hits the ground. You’re not even sure how long you were walking, but now that you’ve stopped, you notice the shiver is gone. You’re standing completely still, and that those seismic waves in the center of your chest from earlier are nowhere to be found.

Oh. You’re doing it again.

Heavier drops start to dampen the earth.

You don’t know where else to go.

Not your own apartment. Not now. No, it’s too empty there.

Maybe it’s a sign from the universe, that you’re just undeserving of a place to belong.

You open your phone to find his name on your screen, next to the words (7) missed calls. You ring up the only person you can, and when she finally picks up, you say, “Can I come over?”

Even when your voice cracks, you don’t cry. The earthquake never comes.

Sohee takes you in like the good friend she is. You’re grateful that she was someone you could count on to always have your back at work, who then turned into one of your best friends outside of the office too.

She gives you some clothes to change into, and doesn’t question anything when you ask if you could spend the night. Though, you have a feeling that she knows who this is about. She leaves you alone to get some rest, but it’s probably because she has work in the morning too, and it was already 1:30AM when you interrupted her peace and quiet with the call.

You don’t sleep a wink that night.

Instead, you think about your mom, and how she must have felt when she found out about your dad’s infidelity, time and time again. It’s true what they say, children really don’t know a lot about their parents.

How did she feel when she first found out? You can’t imagine what it must have been like, going through all of that while having two kids to think about too.

You feel bad that just yesterday, you’d been so annoyed with her that you cut your trip short.

Outside Sohee’s windows, the sky cries, like it’s grieving in place of you, its tears drowning the earth in waves of sorrow. For a moment, you consider stepping out there, to feel the rain on your face and in your hair. But in the end, you stay inside, where you’re sheltered and dry.

You don’t realize that the sun has risen until Sohee knocks on your - well, her - door.

She cracks it open gently. “Babe?” she asks, tentative like you’re a cornered animal, ready to bolt at any given moment. “Are you up?”

You lie in her bed, feeling so foreign in your own skin. You reckon your eyes must be bloodshot from the lack of sleep. You haven’t even cried once.

“I’m alive,” you tell her, as you stare up at the ceiling. There are no stars here, just plain cream-colored paint.

“Okay,” you hear her say, then she pauses for a moment, clearly not knowing how to proceed.

Sohee approaches you, sits on the bed, and gives you a smile. She pats your hair, and it reminds you of your sister. “You wanna tell me what’s wrong? I have some time before I meet Namjoon for breakfast.”

You sit up, reaching for your phone on the bedside table. It’s been switched off since you got here, and when you turn it back on, a flurry of texts light up the device until the screen lags. Messages from Taehyung, asking where you were, begging you to tell him if you were safe.

You open the texts to show him that you’ve read them. That should be enough of an answer.

You test the words in your mouth for a moment. “Taehyung cheated on me,” you say, thinking that if you verbalize it, it would be real and you would finally feel bad. That it was just a delayed reaction, that you were just too in shock to process anything. You want to feel bad, but it doesn’t work.

Sohee’s eyes widen almost comically. “Are you fucking serious?” she asks in disbelief, half because of the nature of the news itself, and half because of how calm you are.

“He cheated on me,” you repeat and still, nothing surfaces. If anything, it backfires. You can physically feel yourself doing it again - shutting down. “I caught him last night.”

You’re not sure what’s wrong with you. This isn’t a normal person’s reaction after they found out their fiance was cheating on them.

But.

It is a you reaction.

You keep doing this, even when you don’t mean to. You ran away last night, and you’re running away now. Your body shuts out every negative emotion until you feel nothing at all. It’s stupid that you do this, and it’s stupid that you don’t know how to stop doing it.

Fight or flight, and you choose flight every time. Every single fucking time.

You wish you could give Sohee something, anything would do. Scream, cry, go back to your apartment to set fire to all of Taehyung’s belongings. Anything would be better than this complete lack of emotions you’re showing.

You watch her face as it happens, things that you should be feeling but aren’t. She’s mostly shocked, angry, but not hurt. How could she? She wasn’t the one being played for a fool. You wish you could ask her to give you some of that anger, even if it’s only a fraction.

You don’t see Taehyung again until two days later, when he shows up at your door. Even when he’s standing in front of you, words spilling from his lips like prayers instead of apologies, you just feel… empty.

You let him inside, and the second that the door closes behind him, you fill up with unease. All your walls are up again, your system on high alert. Everything in your body is telling you that there’s an intruder in your space. Your feet are ready to bolt, just itching to get out of there Go, your head says, you’re not safe here.

Taehyung approaches you, tries to hold your hand, but you just shrug him off. The man in front of you visibly deflates, and despite the way his face falls, you don’t soften.

The first thing he asks you is, “Why didn’t you cry?”

“What?”

“You don’t look like you’ve been crying,” he points out. “Did you cry?”

Reluctantly, you admit, “No.”

Then he just stares at you. When his judgmental gaze holds yours, you feel guilty. Guilty that you’re not mourning the death of this relationship. Guilty that you’re just letting it go, but the truth is you don’t have any fight in you. You don’t see the point in trying to salvage what’s no longer alive.

“Do you even love me?” His voice is hard when he asks this, like he’s trying to keep his anger at bay.

“Of course I love you,” you say, but it lacks conviction. You both know it. The words sound so flaccid coming out of your mouth.

But you love him.

You do.

Did?

“Then why didn’t you cry?”

How do you tell him that you can’t? That you don’t know how?

How do you tell him that if you could, you would reach inside and claw out your feelings like digging for water in a desert.

What the hell is wrong with you? This isn’t a high school crush, or a casual summer fling.

You two were supposed to get married, for fuck’s sake. You were supposed to spend the rest of your life with him. If there’s anything that could make you break through those godforsaken defense mechanisms to let the hurt in, it should be this.

“Did you kiss someone else just to see if I would cry?” you ask. Your voice is even, and you can see that it makes Taehyung more frustrated than he already is.

He grits his teeth, exhaling. You notice his blue sweater, and you stop him before he can say anything else. Obviously, it looks a lot more worn than it did back then, but over the years you’ve always found it endearing. It’s the first memory that you have of him. It was always something you could cherish.

Now, you can’t even bear to look at it.

It’s then that you realize it doesn’t matter what answer he gives you. Yes? No? It genuinely doesn’t matter. There is nothing that can make you see him the same way ever again.

You run your thumb over the ring on your finger, twisting it for a moment to memorize the feel of it. It’s the last thing that ties you to him. “You can have this back,” you say, handing the piece of jewelry back to him.

When a relationship ends, especially for a reason like this, people tend to think it’ll go down in a kdrama-esque fashion - crying, slapping, throwing water in the other person’s face. But that’s not what this is. It’s not cathartic; sometimes the end of a relationship is just a fizzle, doesn’t even make it to a fullburn. It might be unsatisfying, but it happens every day. It’s not always a pivotal point; sometimes it’s just a point.

Taehyung stares at the object in his palm. “That’s it?” he asks in disbelief. “We’re breaking up?”

“What else is there to do?”

“You’re not even gonna ask me anything? Who she was, how it started, how long it’s been going on?”

The other morning, Sohee had asked you to elaborate after you told her what happened, but there was just not that much to tell. You were there. He brought someone else home. End of story.

It was enough for Sohee to call him every name in the book and curse his entire bloodline though.

You suppose that’s a reasonable reaction. Taehyung cheated. You never thought he was a person capable of doing that. Three years of your life, down the drain. There’s nothing left to save.

“Okay,” you shrug tiredly, like you’re just having a casual and dull conversation about the weather. “Who was she? How did it start? How long has it been going on?”

Your name comes out of his mouth, sounding like a scoff. “Ask it like you mean it.”

“But I don’t mean it,” you say. “What difference does it make? Knowing doesn’t change the fact that you still cheated on me. You know what I’ve been through and you still fucked it up. You did the worst thing you could ever do to me.”

“Fuck, I know that!” he groans, throwing his hands up. “I messed up badly, and I’m sorry. Y/N, I’m so fucking sorry. I will never deny that what I did wasn’t wrong. But have you ever stopped to think that maybe you’re to blame for this too? You never want to admit that it could be your fault too.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“You tell me. I keep having to put up with your baggage.” Then he shuts right up, barely even makes it through the last syllable before he’s squeezing his eyes shut for a second, clearly realizing that out of all the things he could’ve said, that was grossly out of line. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean th-”

And now you’re getting angry for the wrong reasons.

“You cheated but somehow it’s my fault, right?” you snap. “Boohoo. Sorry that you’ve had to put up with me all these years. I’m such a burden, right? Fuck you, Taehyung.”

“Y/N, I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

“I think you should leave.”

You think it’s the steel in your voice as you say this that makes him stop arguing.

He holds your gaze for a moment longer. You’re someone who tears up when you see stray dogs, who cries alongside the fictional characters in your favorite show. And yet, as you watch your own fiance leave…

The door clicks shut as he exits your life, but everything he said stays behind, clings to your walls and festers like mold.

The second you step onto the floor, everyone grows quiet. Lively chatter turns into hushed whispers. People go back to making their morning coffee, side-eyeing each other in a way that’s not meant to be very subtle.

You quietly make your way to your desk, all the while feeling the nosy pairs of eyes on you as you walk. You don’t know how word got out, but you were sure that everyone would know eventually. You just didn’t expect it’d be this soon. Sohee would never do that to you, and you highly doubt that Taehyung would go around broadcasting his infidelity.

As you set your stuff down, you make eye contact with the new intern who sits a few spots away from you. You haven’t had the chance to talk to her much, but she’s a nice girl. She gives you a small smile in greeting, and even though you know she doesn’t mean to pity you, you can still see it in her eyes.

A minute later, Sohee comes up to you. “Hey, babe,” she says, leaning on your desk with two plastic cups in her hands. One iced latte and one mango smoothie. She puts the yellow-colored beverage down and nudges it toward you, a little lackluster and unlike her usual playful self.

“Thanks,” you say, taking the smoothie with a smile, commenting, “Interesting morning so far. Never thought I’d ever be the subject of office gossip.”

“Yeah, about that. Do you know who was Taehyung’s… uhm… y’know?”

It’s okay. She can say it. You can handle it.

You already feel nothing, and there’s nothing you can even do to rectify it. Might as well lean into it, right?

Or maybe you should just go to therapy.

“No,” you tell her. “I didn’t want to know.”

“Well, uhm, now that the whole office knows, I think you should hear this from me first…” Sohee bites her bottom lip as she gauges your reaction. When you only sigh and give her the go-ahead, she continues, “It was Yura from Marketing.”

“What?”

“Yura from Marketing. You know the one. Brought muffins for the whole office on her first day? A little too bubbly for my taste. But yeah, she was at work the other day and suddenly burst into tears at, like, 10AM, and that’s how everybody found out.”

Of course. Even though people here are surrounded by celebrity gossip on the daily, nothing beats the good old-fashioned office affair. Why bother with celebrity gossip when you have front row seats to live drama unfolding ten feet away?

You take a sip of your smoothie, swallowing down the inkling of irritation that tickles the back of your throat. “Well,” you say, “I’m glad the downfall of my relationship is like a circus animal for them to gawk at. Can’t wait until they move onto the next big thing.”

“Honestly, it might blow over sooner than you think. The Love Doctor is back today.”

“What?” Your ears perk up at the mention of his name, glancing up at her in surprise as you put your drink down. “Doesn’t he work at the Paris office?”

“He used to work here. We joined around the same time. Then he transferred to Paris a few years ago. Nobody even knows why. One day he just upped and left.”

“Why didn’t you tell me he’d be here? I didn’t have time t-”

“Calm down, sweetcheeks, I only just found out,” Sohee chuckles, holding a finger against your mouth to shush you. “We all know you used to have a major lady boner for him.”

“I do not.” You don’t even know what he looks like, just his name when it appears in the byline of an article. “I admire him.”

Which is true, you do admire him. He’s your own version of a freaking rockstar. Though, you have to admit that Love Doctor is a huge cliche of a nickname, and significantly reduces the scope of his brilliance. The way that man writes makes it seem like he’s experienced lifetimes and is now here to pass on his wisdom.

He doesn’t feel like a mere magazine writer like yourself. There’s something in his words that turns you inside out, makes you experience things that you’ve never even gone through. He flows like poetry, and leaves you stunned every time.

Okay, maybe you do have a lady boner, but for his brain.

Which… is probably something you should never say out loud.

Someone walks in then, a man you’ve never seen before. He looks around your age, if not a couple of years older. He bypasses all of the other desks without saying anything, not a single Hi or Good morning. He doesn’t look like the type to speak if not spoken to.

Then he walks over to where you and Sohee sit, and sets his bag on the empty desk next to yours.

You look at Sohee, and she just shrugs.

It can’t be him. Surely, it’s not…?

“Min Yoongi,” she says in greeting.

Oh, it is.

He spares her a nod before he looks away again. “Sohee.”

Is that the Parisian way? Is that how people normally greet someone they haven’t seen in years? Sohee and him were only colleagues, but still, the least you could do is pretend.

You’re not one to judge a book by its cover, but c’mon, seriously? Were you wrong for expecting the person who writes about love in its most raw and beautiful form to look… not like Grumpy Cat personified? It makes you even more fucking intimidated. And he’s going to be sitting next to you? The fuck?

As he sits down, you blink, still a bit dazed, not sure how to process this. Sohee gently pushes you forward, which makes you nearly stumble right into him. You turn to her with a glare, but she just motions to him, mouthing ‘Go on.’

You clear your throat, wiping your hand on your pants before you hold it out. “Hi, I’m Y/N. It’s so nice to finally meet you,” you say, trying to sound as professional as you can. “I’m really looking forward to working with you.”

He glances at you, and reaches out to meet your outstretched hand in a barely-there handshake. “Yoongi.”

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sweetlyskz · 2 months

Text

Strange||Chapter Three

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐏𝐨𝐥𝐲!𝐨𝐭𝟕 × 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐉𝐢𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐜𝐮𝐬)

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐉𝐢𝐧 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐰 𝐮𝐩 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐫𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫. 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐧𝐨 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲, 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞.𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐚 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧, 𝐬𝐮𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐚𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐱 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬?

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐈𝐝𝐨𝐥 𝐀𝐮, 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭, 𝐬𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐧, 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭

𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐯||𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭||𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭

PLEASE READ: I can't lie... It took me a minute to figure out where I wanted to go with this story- I CRIED! I hate that it took me so long to get this to you guys :(... Hopefully the updates will be a little more consistent. ALSO I did revamp the banner a bit- the other one just doesn't fit the direction I’m about to take with this fic so BE READY!

thanks for all the love <3

UNEDITED

Not once, did it ever occur to you to do a DNA test. You grew up in an orphanage, so obviously you didn’t really know your parents. Honestly, you had no reason to know them, to know if they're dead or alive. You had Jin. And when he left, you had Jae. That was enough for you.

But now knowing that your father was out there, and that he knew Jin, made you curious. You weren’t really curious about your father, more so your mother. But, how did he know Jin? Phone tapping? Listening to your private conversations? Is that something that your potential father is capable of?

After ending the phone conversation with Jin, you both agreed to meet at a discrete location. He didn’t have to say the usual spot, you already knew.

A tree behind the orphanage, now old and abandoned. Someone could’ve spotted you from a mile away, but you didn’t care. It’s not like you were famous or anything. Unlike Jin, who showed up in a black zip up hoodie with a mask. He looked like he was about to rob someone.

“Dude, you look like you’re gonna steal my purse or something”, you teased. “We’re literally meeting behind an abandoned building. I don’t think anyone is here.”

“You never know, especially with your dad.”

“How do I know you’re telling the truth about this whole dad thing? This could just be another lie you’re spinning to get me to forgive you.”

He sighed. “At this point, I have no reason to lie. And this is serious, Ynie.”

You climbed your way up the old oak tree, sitting on one of the limbs. “Where is he? Do you know? He shook his head.

“No, and even if I did I wouldn’t tell you”, Jin snarked. “He is dangerous, deadly.”

“I don’t care, Jin. He’s my father. You can’t protect me from this one.”

He climbed up the tree also, claiming a spot next to you on the limb. He laid his head on your shoulder as you sat in silence.

Just like old times.

“You still lied to me. Don’t expect me to forgive you that easily”, you reminded him. Yes, hearing about your father puts things in a different perspective, but the principle still stands. His loyalties should lie with you, not your potential father.

“I’m really sorry”, he apologized. “And I’ll never forgive myself for what I’ve done, but I really hope we can try to move past this, together. I’m not saying that things have to go back to the way they used to be. You’re an adult now, so you don’t need me to look after you anymore. But maybe we can start over? Clean the slate?”

You smiled, on the brink of tears. “Maybe. I have missed my best friend a little.”

“A little?” Jin teased. “I know it didn’t seem like it, but there was never a single day I wasn’t thinking about you, missing you.”

His hand reached your cheek, wiping away the tears. God, memories were a bitch. All you can think about is old times, but the good times, not the bad ones.

“You know we’re gonna have to tell them, right?” He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “They’ll get suspicious if we’re suddenly the best of friends.”

You nodded. “I’ll tell them, don’t worry.” You both agreed it was better if you sat down and told his boyfriends the truth. Jin doesn’t always have a way with words, especially when their eyes pierced through his skull like daggers.

“I want to meet him, Jinnie”, you whispered. “I want to meet my father.”

The next week went smoothly. You and Jin began to reacclimate to being in each other's presence. The bangtan meetings were more productive, considering you actually showed up this time. The beginning was a little rocky, though.

“Well, look who decided to show up?” The leader complained. “You missed– I don't know— about three meetings!”

“I’m really sorry”, you apologized, giving a formal 90 degree bow. Jin laughed at your teasing.

“This is the last meeting before we start promotions. I couldn’t miss this.”

You all discussed the boring partnership mumbo jumbo. You didn’t really pay attention half the time. You mostly texted Jin, in need of a distraction.

“Anything else to add Miss Kim?” Their advisors asked you.

“Yes actually”, you replied. “But it’s actually more of a private matter. Could I ask you all to step outside for a quick second? Everyone except Bangtan, of course.”

The manager gave you a quick glare before obeying your orders, grabbing their belongings and walking out of the office.

“Is she about to murder us?” Tae jumped up out of his chair, making his way to the door. “I’m too young to die!”

Jin rolled his eyes. “Yah! Would you stop being so dramatic and get back in your seat?”

You laughed. “I promise, I have no ulterior motives. I just want to apologize.”

You could tell that obviously wasn’t what they were expecting. They looked at each other, all wondering why they weren’t being chewed out by you for being a bunch of dickheads.

“I realize that everything that happened wasn’t expected, and I never meant to uproot anyone’s life. To be honest, I didn’t even know who you guys were before this partnership— well besides Jin. And the reason Jin was keeping secrets is because I told him to. But I want to be the one to tell you everything.”

The room went silent. It was like everyone was on the edge of their seats, like a movie hitting the climax.

“Ynie, you don’t have to do this right now”, Jin assured you. “We can do this later, maybe when we’re all more comfortable with each other.”

You shook your head. “It’s okay. I need to do this now, or I’ll never do it. If I’m gonna ask for your help, you need to know the full story.”

“Help with what?” Joon questioned. “What do you need us for?”

“I need help finding my father.”

It was a silent ride back home for the boys. With everything going on in their heads, after everything you had told them, it was hard not to ponder over it.

Even when they got back to the dorms, it was quiet. Jimin couldn’t help but beat himself up over his last actions, the way he first treated you. Looking at it from his point of view, you could see why he acted the way he did. But he still felt foolish for thinking that a person like you would be out to get him, to take what’s his. They all sat in the living room, stuck in their heads.

“We need to talk about this”, Jungkook said, breaking the silence.

“You’re right”, Hoseok agreed. “I think we should help her. Good karma, you know?”

Jin shook his head. “You don’t understand. I’ve met him before. He is dangerous. I don’t want him anywhere near her.”

“Okay, but that’s not your decision to make, Jin”, Yoongi argued with his arms crossed. “As a good friend, you need to just support her decisions and help her when she makes mistakes. You can’t make decisions for her.”

Joon agreed. “Yoon is right. Keep her from this and you might lose her entirely... again.”

“Then what do I do?” Jin asked desperately. “Just let her get hurt?”

Jimin consoled his exasperated boyfriend, lighting massaging his shoulders. “Yes, and be there for her when it happens-if it happens.”

All of those years he spent protecting you, raising you. To be honest, he missed it. But you’re not a little girl anymore. You're a grown woman, capable of making your own decisions. And he is a grown man, responsible and mature.

“Okay”, Jin agreed. “Let’s help find her father.”

“Are you seriously gonna hang out with the same people that hated you like two days ago?”

You were getting ready to have lunch with the boys. You invited Jae to come along, wanting an icebreaker in case things are still awkward. He was helping you get ready in your lovely walk-in closet.

“We are all mature adults, Jae. Get over—”

“And let me also remind you, that Jimin guy embarrassed you in front of millions of people! They're all a bunch of dicks.”

“My favorite”, you teased. He threw an old t-shirt at you.

“You have the humor of a teenage boy.” Jae picked a shirt hanging up in your closet, handing it to you.

“That one, so we can match!”

“Like a couple?” You asked sarcastically. “How cute!”

He snatched the shirt back. “Never mind. Jin probably wouldn’t want us to match anyway.”

You rolled your eyes. “Why would he care what I wear?”

“Because he’s totally crushing on you, him and his boyfriends— maybe not Jimin though.”

"You're delusional", you scoffed. "There's seven people in that relationship. I bet they're not looking for anymore."

"Whatever you say... But that Namjoon guy was definitely checking you out at the awards show."

Another shirt was thrown across the closet, and with that drawer of socks, but even after the conversation ended you wondered…

Was what Jae said true?

Taglist (if @ is purple I can’t tag you :()

@scuzmunkie @moon-cupcakes @quillan-pie @uarmyhore @xjiminsthighsx @dreamamubarak @exfolitae @snookerbooker @bex-tk1 @prettybitxc @frieschan @whipwhoops @lulu-83 @minaaathings @demarie04 @svnbangtansworld @juju-227592 @bangtantxts @blancflms @girl-nahh @kameko-ko @cutiethecupcake @worcesheshestershiresauce @irishhbamb

Lmk if I forgot to add you or you would like to be added <3

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electrosquash · 1 year

Note

This may sound stupid but how do I turn off blazeable on my blogs?

And how is this bad? Again, I don't wanna sound stupid or rude. Thank you for the heads up :]

Hi! No worries, you're not the only one with these questions.

On how to turn off the option to get blazed:

On desktop you can turn it off at this link: https://www.tumblr.com/settings/blog/#blaze It looks something like this

On mobile it's in the account settings menu, there's a lof of screenshots in the additions to my other post like here (i haven't updated since i got a funny little bug that lets me add polls in reblogs of other people's posts so i can't screenshot anything).

Alternatively you can also log into Tumblr in your phone's browser and use the link above there. Don't forget to do it on sideblogs that you don't want to get blazed as well! You can also change the settings per-post in the post menu. I've actually enabled it for my complaint post that's circulating because it would be really funny :D

On how it is bad:

With the way it is set up, people can blaze your posts without active consent. This can be used to bully people, by digging out old or not-adapted posts that were not meant for a wider audience and putting them on blast. This can include vent posts, opinions you might have changed since then, selfies, niche things many people might think are cringe (like 2014 self-insert omegaverse fanfics and the likes ... idk if you've seen the drama that resulted from someone blazing their fic, it wasn't pretty), posts that were only meant to circulate in your carefully curated audience, and more.

Since Blaze's are registered in many minds as advertisement many people will react negatively to them so this opens up a way to bully a lot of people. As usual, people of colour, trans people, and other vulnerable groups will get the worst of it, many are already getting deactivated regularly because of coordinated reporting harassment and since people donate hate organizations all the time they will definitely use the option to make the life of a person they're targeting living hell for 10$.

Staff thought of some safeguards but there are several fallacies:

The option to cancel a blaze before it goes live: Not everyone has access to the internet every day, and staff might accept the blaze while you're asleep / at work / on a trip / in the hospital / on hiatus. Then when you're coming back to tumblr your notes will have turned into a nightmare.

The guarantee that staff will check every Blaze manually to prevent harassment: Let's take the case in which someone's old fic get blazed against their will. How can staff know whether it was blazed with friendly intent (to promote a friend's work) or ill intent (to get people to point and laugh)? They can't as long as it's not against the Terms of Service. In general there will be many false positives (Blazes that get rejected by staff despite being innocent) and false negatives (Blazes that get accepted by staff despite being malicious). After all, the people working at tumblr are only human too. But in this case, false negatives will have devastating consequences - and extinguishing a blaze after it's live will be too late.

Many people don't follow @staff, so many people don't know about this change. In fact many people on that other post commented that they didn't know what Blazes are at all! I think i've read that they will add a login banner to tell you and check your settings, but iirc they had banners like that for the original Blaze function announcement so i don't have faith this will prevent anything.

I should clarify that i don't think the feature itself is bad at all, but it should be opt-in so only people who want to participate get blazed (e.g. art blogs). Or add an active mandatory confirmation by OP instead of a veto option, this would prevent the issues above as well, i think that would be the best option - that way people could leave the option on. I know staff are currently getting bombarded with support requests / flames (please be civil to them guys!) (also sorry. but not sorry. i didn't expect my post to blow up but also i think these are legitimately troubling concerns and i won't make the other post unrebloggable). They're aware of these issues so i hope they will change to one of these options - if they add active mandatory confirmation by OP i would enable to option globally as well (Hint hint this means more money for you, @tumblr, because otherwise many people have and will turn this feature off completely) A bit more time between announcement and go-live (4/20 iirc) would have been helpful as well.

Here's the original announcement by the way:

And since i'm gonna pin the post as long as the other post is circulating: Listen to goatbed guys!

#long post #tumblr #ok to rb

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white-poppie · 1 year

Note

Hello how are you? I’d like to request killua x f reader headcanons where the reader has pet dragons. Like you can tell she’s weak and yet when a giant creature shows up behind her it’s bound to be a little menacing. I’m sorry I know this is a weird request I’m just obsessed with dragons 😭

How to train your Dragon (ft. Y/N and Killua)

Okay first off, this is just adorable.

Okay so Killua really undermined you when he first saw you, he liked how nice and gentle you were, but you were too weak to be interesting.

However Gon really adored you, so you invited both of them to your house.

And Boom, he was quacking in his boots when he saw this ginormous Dragon greet you like a puppy.

The Zoldycks have a large dog as a pet too, but a dragon?? that's a whole new level.

He is just standing there like: 🧍

And you are like "Oh don't worry he doesn't bite."

Yeah, clearly he doesn't bite, he just kills on the spot-

Gon is already trying to befriend the Dragon and Killua is just holding him by his T-shirt to stop him from running like Bro chill, that's a whole Dragon, not a puppy.

If the Dragon helps in fights I hate to break it to you, but Killua will sometimes make fun of that.

He'll be like "Oh you can't even fight without (dragon name?)"

Oh god if you start crying he genuinely feels like the worst scum on the earth.

What's worse? Your Dragon is growling at Killua for making you cry.

Timeskip to the next day, and you wake up to see your dragon decorated with flower garlands and stick-on sequins and stickers on its scales.

He is holding one end of a banner and your dragon is holding another end of the banner which reads 'I'M SORRY.' You try to ignore the slight burns on Killua's clothes.

Anyways after that you guys just got closer, and the things that Killua made fun of started looking cuter.

Like look how fragile you look next to the dragon Jskdoeidowedui

Or the way you care about everyone, he is so enamoured by it.

Boy is head over heels but doesn't know how to process his feelings.

UNTIL you are in a fight where you end up getting hurt badly.

My guy goes absolutely bat-shit crazy.

Then its pretty obvious tbh you guys just figure it out eventually,

Dragon best wingman!

Idk what this is I am sorry if you don't like it.

- Hunter x Hunter - Fanfictions

BYIDNI ﹒ Request-Rules ﹒ Taglist ﹒

TAGS: @akumicchi, @nanaseishiro, @denkis111, @futuristicallykawaiiturtle, @kristaline2dmensimp, @innerpurple,@juanasspirit, @renster05, @cleaningfairylevi,

psst, hey, over here! Uhm hi :) Do you like reading? If so can you please check out my first novel? I am a 15-year-old author who needs support, I assure you it won't disappoint! Its okay if you don't buy, it would be enough to share the link with someone else who might be interested! I humbly request you support my career as a child author by purchasing my book. This would help me to write more books in future.

“Of Vengeance and Ashes” -> BUY NOW!!!!

#killua hxh #killua hunter x hunter #killua x reader #killua fluff #white poppie🌼#hunter x hunter #hxh fluff #hxh fanfic #killua headcanons #hxh headcanons #hxh hcs #killua hcs #hxh

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medusapelagia · 2 months

Text

Happy Birthday Billy

Did Tumblr eat my fic? YES! But I found an old version and try to fix it!

written for (@harringrovemicrofic Rating: Teen and Up Relationship: Steve /Billy Prompt: Birthday Word Count: 403

Happy Birthday.

The colorful banner lies on the ground, ripped apart.

Billy grabs a packet of Marlboro and goes sit on the porch. He looks for a lighter that's not there because Steve took it to light the candles on the fucking cake he baked for him: a monstrosity of sugary cream, all crocked, that now rests in the kitchen.

He was a dick, and the glare Max gave him was louder than a thousand words, but Steve put on his plastic smile and said that everything was fine. He took the cake back to the kitchen, thanked everyone for coming, and then closed himself in his room.

Not their room.

His.

And Billy can't blame him. He lashed out like a fury when Steve's only fault was trying to give him a surprise birthday party.

"He should have known I hate fucking surprises," Billy complains, nibbling at the cigarette's filter, but without a fucking lighter the cigarette's useless, so he gets back inside to light it on the stove.

He freezes when he sees Steve cleaning the mess he made in his rage.

The banner is all crumpled in a big black bag with some stupid party hats.

Steve is turned toward the wall so he can't see that Billy is right behind him, and in the monotonous brushing of the broom's bristle, Billy hears him sniffle. And he feels like shit.

He stares at his boyfriend in silence. He could blame his father for his explosive reactions, or the shitty day he had at work, but the truth is that it was all him.

If Billy was a different person, coming home to such a sweet display of love would have melted his heart. But Billy's heart is rotten and putrid and when he saw the banner, the hats, and the cake all he saw was the lack of his father's affection.

Even now his father dictates Billy's behavior.

Steve must hear him sigh because he turns abruptly, his eyes red and puffy.

"I'm sorry," Billy whispers, and those words taste like ashes.

"Don't be. It's your birthday, I should have asked..."

Billy was never good with words, so he steps closer and puts his lips on Steve's, silencing him.

"I'll do better next year," he promises on Steve's lips.

"We'll do better next year," Steve replies.

Maybe they will, maybe they won't. What matters is that they will try.

Together.

#stranger things fanfic #steve x billy #harringrove #medusapelagia #Billy Hargrove #Steve Harrington #Harringrove #Billy x Steve #Stranger Things Fanfiction #Harringrove fic #medusapelagia fanfic #my fanfic #harringrove microfic

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imonthemoonitsmadeofcheese · 16 days

Note

Hello! Me again, back to pester you about lore.

So what's going on with The Drifter? For once I know a little about the character, I read 'A Man With No Name', but I still have questions. From how the book read, Drifter convinced Felwinter to get revenge for the destruction of the village. Did that go anywhere? And what did Drifter get up to for the (unspecified very long) timeskip between the book and the game?

And with the modern day, does the Vanguard know he's running a fighting ring out of the basement? Or does every single guardian look away when Zavala tries figuring out where people keep getting these weapons? I guess first rule of fight club and all that. What's he even trying to do? He seems to be pretty against most of the Vanguard's leadership.

Anyway, another invitation to infodump about your other blorbo. I hope you don't mind XD

If you thought I was long-winded about Eris... She's maybe 400 years old whereas the Drifter may be 900... get comfy... this will not be quick.

"Dark Age was wild times."

I adore the Drifter and a good chunk of how and why I adore him is his voice - both the voice acting and the syntax/diction/phrasing used in the writing, but voice alone does not cover why I find his character so utterly enthralling and fantastic.

I wrote a short piece consisting of Eris telling Ikora what she sees in him in my story Finders Keepers. It's basically a personality analysis and some people have (I think probably accurately) accused it of being a love letter to that character. (Reminder: that link is fanfiction - I wrote it - it is not lore, but it is based on lore. However, everything else I list after this is actual lore.)

But, personality aside, ultimately the Drifter's story is what I find most compelling about him and makes him so empathetic. You mentioned you've read A Man with No Name, but there's more. A lot more.

To start, the Drifter is D2's most violent pacifist.

He doesn't want to fight and when he does, it's vicious. The Emissary of the Nine, formerly Orin (his ex-best friend and/or ex-lover, depending upon how you read it) aptly says "He hates violence. He hates it so much he'll murder anyone who tries to inflict it on him."

In A Man with No Name, we see him go from hiding in a town and having it obliterated by warlords, to running a bar at the bottom of Felwinter peak, to getting Lord Felwinter himself to avenge the town. Drifter doesn't fight anywhere in there and gets other people to do his fighting for him, which is a pretty standard tactic for him. And yes, it is strongly implied that Felwinter does indeed murder the fuck out of Lord Dryden when he says "Call Lord Dryden. Prepare my Iron Banner arsenal."

But then we get Dark Age Drifter entries where he's gunning down Fallen attackers with quotes like "He had never brought himself to shoot a human. Or anything even resembling a human. Risen included." (Bonus mention: notice "Alright" repeated here and compare to his standard Gambit opening of Alright, alright, alright...") Where he's slipping away from non-violence, specifying, in particular, that he won't shoot a human but will defend himself from aliens.

And then he becomes something else entirely in these amazing entries with what I've been calling his Breakneck crew:

Now Otto's a Sword man. He's all about "craft." Technique. Precision. It's disgusting, but I don't care how he does it, as long as it gets done, so I just let him do it. And Otto does it so beautifully that, when he's done, you're standing there holding your guts in your hands and thanking him for the show.

Never touches a gun, that girl. She likes to get close. Likes to look right in their eyes and be the last thing they see.

The chumps that run out to stop us are babies. That's the kicker with Warlords—other than ours, there's not a Ghost in sight here. Just civilians who can barely hold their guns without wetting their pants, who can't aim worth a damn, who stick their necks out for the bad guys with eternal life. Real geniuses.

Cenric stood up. That vein of his looked about ready to pop. Drifter let his feet down as he reached for his rifle, asp-quick. "And you know what we do with rats, don't you, brother."

And the thing I love about this is the character development this speaks to where he goes from pacifist who won't fight at all... to someone who will use a machine gun competently, repeating "Alright" and getting himself used to killing, but not humans, never humans... to stone cold vicious murder-Drifter talking about the lightless who die to his crew in ways that make them (and himself) seem no longer human, to gunning down his own crew, people he felt were a perfect team, when they make deals with warlords behind his back and lie to him about it.

The Drifter started out adhering to an ideal of nonviolence and it destroyed him and everyone he cared for. His sense of self, his principles, everything he believed in is eroded until he completely loses all hope and in order to survive the cruelty of the world he lives in he becomes a ruthless monster.

Either before or after his Breakneck-era crew (it's not clear), the Drifter (under the name Eli) joins the Pilgrim Guard, a group of Titans protecting lightless people as they travel to the Last City. He does this out of a desire/need to be near Orin, a Titan with a complicated past and strong ties to both Queen Mara and the Nine. But then after spending time with Eli/Drifter and the Pilgrim Guard, Orin, the one person Drifter's ever had a deep human connection with, the person he considers his best friend, leaves without a word.

It's very telling that the green snakes, the jade coin, and the red string on those same coins that form such profound parts of the Drifter's symbolism and identity all come from Orin. When the Drifter truly cares for someone, he incorporates part of them into himself, into his identity, making them part of who he becomes, so they live on inside of him.

After his time with Orin, we get into the extremely confusing, contradictory mess that is the Drifter's intersection with Shin Malfur-related Rose/Thorn/Lumina lore. And by this I mean that the Drifter, after fighting alongside people doing genuinely noble good work, in the wake of losing Orin, leaves the Pilgrim Guard and eventually ends up joining the evil cult of evil: following in the footsteps of one of the most reviled risen to ever exist - the guardian-killer: Dredgen Yor.

If you're gonna hang with me, you need to know about the Shadows of Yor. They follow the edicts of a very bad man named Dredgen Yor. And what're his Shadows after? Everything the Light can't provide. I thought they could help me find an answer to the battles of Light versus Light that raged during the Dark Age. But the longer I flew with them, the more I saw they're blind as all those who follow the Traveler. One albatross for another. I was done with 'em.

And while in the cult, in some sort of ritual, he communes with the Darkness directly and gets some sort of Darkness powers (possibly Stasis, possibly something else - it's super unclear) and the Darkness whispers to him his Dredgen name: Dredgen Hope, which is particularly brutal in context with this quote from Dredgen Yor himself:

I care only to give hope to the frightened, huddled masses so that when I come upon them they will have more to lose. Their pain will be greater. Their screams more pure… Nothing dies like hope. I cherish it.

But it is also particularly pointed because hope is the thing the Drifter doesn't have. Trust is the thing he doesn't have the ability to do any more because of his experiences (and is also the name of the hand cannon he wears shoved into his pants). He is the most jaded (literally - constantly fidgeting with a jade coin) character in the D2 universe. He loses everything and leans in on it and follows that path to full evil.

And then he walks away. Because evil doesn't work for him either.

But also (either before or after he's completely left the cult - it's ambiguous, but possibly when he's still entangled but it's already fracturing and falling apart) he finds Orin again (he's using the name Wu Ming at this point - either having returned to it, or because he hasn't changed it yet from Felwinter Peak, or perhaps this happens before Felwinter Peak - the order and timeline is somewhat fuzzy).

Orin does not remember who he is when he finds her the second time (she's pretty nuts at this point - her story is filled with madness and tragedy), and is going insane with grief over losing Namqi (the person she left with when she disappeared the first time) as well as her obsession with the Nine. And the Drifter is once more drawn to her and once more connects deeply with her:

Wu Ming leaves his questions by the wayside as he is drawn inexorably into the gravity well of her desperate honesty. Her confessions lower his defenses. He talks of himself. Of his fear. Of his loneliness. How he feels he is one fingernail away from plummeting into an abyss. How he feels vicious resentment every time he is brought back from the dead: He never asked for the gift of the Light... They make excuse after excuse to meet again. Every conversation is colored by excavated truths; every day they feel they will reach some bedrock that will break them to pieces. It is as frightening as it is intoxicating.

But then Orin finds out about him being a Dredgen, terminates their relationship, goes off to become the Emissary of the Nine and, as someone I was talking with once referred to it: 'it was a breakup so bad he had to leave the solar system.'

Things go very poorly the first time the Drifter loses Orin but the second time is far worse. He has a full-on Lovecraftian 'At the Mountains of Madness' style horror-movie-plot experience with a crew he calls his 'best friends' (which may or may not be all ex-Dredgens but there's at least evidence they might be) out on a frozen planet being stalked and driven to insane levels of paranoia by Darkness creatures able to snuff out their light:

I think I mentioned we're all raving psychos at this point. Well, we did what all measured raving psychos would do. We thought we each had been betrayed by the others. We drew on each other.

The Drifter kills them all to keep them from killing him (at least, that's what he says - no one else is alive to argue). Then his ghost, who up until now has been kind of a moralistic asshole, suggests he hunt down the ghosts of his former crew and Frankenstein them together in order to survive:

And the craziest thing happened. My Ghost snapped... But we would need parts. Ghost parts. And we knew where we could get some... The Ghosts of my former crew all fled as soon as their charges hit the dirt. So me'n mine, we hunted them... "Hey. There's always hope. For what it's worth, I'm proud of you." It was the last thing my Ghost ever said, and the last lie it ever told.

The Drifter's ghost is rendered mute from the experience (either mechanically or due to the trauma of hunting down and murdering other ghosts - it's not clear) but the plan works, they survive, and the Drifter builds the Derelict out of scrap, returning to the Tower where he sets up Gambit.

It's super unclear (again, the Shin-related lore is just a mess and deliberately confusing) but it turns out that Drifter going on about how the Man with the Golden Gun is out to get him is actually a deal he made with Shin to set up Gambit (because, spoiler: the leader of the entire Dredgen cult, Dredgen Vale, turns out to be none other than Shin Malphur, the Man with the Golden Gun, who hunts Dredgens and who the Drifter has been saying is out to get him this entire time) to draw out the truly Darkness-corrupted guardians so Shin can kill them. (And this is ultimately why the Vanguard lets him run a fighting ring in the basement - because Shin convinces them it will help find the truly bad guardians so they can be eliminated).

If you find that confusing, that's because it is. Anything to do with Shin Malphur/Dredgen Yor/Rose/Thorn/Lumnia is pretty much an acid-trip, continuity-wise. It hurts my brain.

As for where the Drifter gets the weapons he gives us for Gambit? To the surprise of no one, he's stealing them. Because of course he is. It's him.

While running Gambit, he ends up visited by the Emissary of the Nine (formerly Orin - same body, different person) and has the Haul attached to the Derelict as a 'gift' in this amazing cutscene: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wFtmr___dSw

And he pretty much stays in "shifty morally ambiguous guy in the basement" mode until Arrivals when the pyramids show up on Io and we get one of my favourite lore tabs in all of D2: Whispering slab.

The two sit. They speak. They listen. Linkages forged in Light and Dark of traded secrets as the Derelict hangs in orbit around the Earth. Pacts are made. Soon, there is only the silence of knowing left between them.

"Next time you fly over the Moon, dust your boots. Tracking that crap all over my floors."

Both of the Drifter's deep emotional entanglements with Orin happen when he really genuinely talks to her, and now in Whispering Slab, he's genuinely talking to someone else, plus we get the origin of why he calls that someone else Moondust.

Then, during Arrivals, we get the amazing banter between him and Eris, and in Beyond Light they learn to control Stasis together with the result being (in my highly subjective opinion) the best cutscene in all of D2 : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IQAB-sSi6P0

At the end of Haunted we get Eris' message to him about healing and finding joy , he has this line in Plunder "What we do now matters more than who we were", we end up with the Kept Confidence lore tab during Season of the Witch where the person who previously insisted he trusted no one now is saying: "He didn't trust them. He trusted her" and then in the Gloaming Journeyer tab, he pulls her into a hug and reminds her of what she told him once (in the Prophesy dungeon dialogue): "That we'll live in the night if we have to. We do it for what comes after." (What comes after is dawn, hope, the continuance of existence after the darkest point.)

Someone in a chat I was in once summed up the core dynamic of the Drifter and Eris' relationship perfectly as "He gives her trust. She gives him hope."

There are people online who are very frustrated with the Drifter's character development, feeling that the Drifter has 'had his teeth filed off' and that he 'got his depression cured by getting a goth girlfriend' but I feel that's just people who don't like change. The Drifter has, throughout his entire storyline been constantly changing who he is. Change is part of his many self-constructed identities which he re-creates over and over as his old sense of self is destroyed and remade. Gritty vicious Drifter is still in there and he will be just as brutal as ever if he needs to be.

He doesn't want to be, though. He never has. And as someone who deals with medical-grade depression and who found themselves in a situation where they needed to reconstruct a sense of self to replace the one that was lost, the Drifter finding a way to hope and trust again after all he's been through is an extremely powerful and poignant narrative which speaks to me on many levels.

It's not trite, thoughtless happy fluffy rainbows, friendship-fixes-everything-whee! It's painful and slow and beautiful as the Drifter learns to have healthy relationships with other people. We need stories like this to speak to us at an unconscious level and tell us that even if you're not Eris Morn and you failed, and you gave up, and you didn't make it out of the Hellmouth, and you in fact gave in to despair and completely lost all hope, your experience erasing who it was you were and having that old you replaced with someone else, you can still find hope again. Even if you've been burned so severely by so many, many, negative human interactions that you cannot trust anyone, if you find the right people, you can slowly learn how to trust again.

The Drifter's story has been called a redemption arc, and I guess in a way it is that too but, for me, the essential quality of the Drifter's narrative isn't redemption: it's healing.

Stories have power. We incorporate them into who we are. Dredgen Hope ultimately does live up to his name. Within D2 he is finally starting to heal. I find that idea, of healing in spite of being so altered by one's experiences as to have had to become an entirely different person in order to survive, of being unable to trust and still finding a way to learn how to trust again, to be important and beautiful to have in my subconscious as something to draw from. It is a story that is very much needed by a lot of people. We need to be reminded that we can be irrevocably changed and have everything taken from us and still find a way to trust and hope and love again. That might seem a bit much for a shooty game, but I maintain this is why D2 has some of the best storytelling of any game I've ever played and that the character of the Drifter is a huge part of what makes that storytelling so compelling.

Sorry this took so long to answer. This seriously was as short as I could make it and still say everything that I felt needed to be said. There's more, and more detail, of course, but this is my treatise on why the Drifter is as awesome as I think he is.

That is all.

#the drifter #destiny 2 #ask me more things!#lore dump of doom #damn this was long #but so is drifter's life - dude is one of if not the oldest one!#drifteris #eris morn #drifter/eris #the drifter/eris morn

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kentosdoll · 5 months

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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 𝑁𝑎𝑛𝑎𝑚𝑖𝑛 headcanons .ᐟ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ mr autism feat. his antics

content: sfw wc: 623

a/n: look, i know there is a small minority of us in the jjk fandom that believes nanami kento is autistic, so this post won't appeal to the masses. if you don't like this, nor agree with it, that's fine (that's why fanon and au's are cool). just don't be a dickhead and leave mean comments. also, this was co-written by my beloved sibling @lesbian-choso. go check out his blog; they make lovely traditional art.

banner credits:⠀@/dollienini + @/chilumitos

Flat affect — no explanation needed.

Stims: jiggling his watch, cracking his knuckles and other joints, pacing around.

This man cannot stand loud noises, though controlled loud sounds, like listening to his screamo playlist, is totally fine.

I firmly believe he sleeps like a dead person at an open-casket funeral. His bed sheet is in a straight line across his chest, with his arms lying flat on either side of his torso — Back Sleeper™️. Best believe he can't sleep unless his room is 18°C, with his bedsheets and duvet even on each side of the bed, and a fresh bottle of water on his bedside table (in case he wakes up and feels parched).

Whilst he isn't a fan of journals and diaries, Kento makes sure to regularly update his calendar on his phone, as well as the one attached to Outlook.

Spreadsheets and to-do lists, he thrives off of these. How else is he to keep up with life?

He is very aware of the fabrics and textures that make contact with his skin. This is why his wardrobe is predominantly made up of soft materials like cotton and cashmere. If he has to wear anything woollen, a lightweight layer of clothing goes underneath; he can't stand the itchiness.

Kento doesn't like mixing cold and warm food, and he tries his best to keep the food on his plate from touching each other (this doesn't apply to food like fried rice).

He irons his bedsheets and underwear — don’t ask. Kento also regularly washes his curtains and steams them once they’re dry (no creases, he hates them).

Exclusively purchases one type of deodorant; it has something to do with the smell and texture. He can’t stand aerosols because of the intensity of their smell (it gets into the back of his throat), and the gel deodorants feel uncomfortable on his underarms. Kento also isn’t a fan of perfume, though, there was one he liked that he stocked up on. Sadly, he hasn’t been able to find anything similar.

“Don’t come in the kitchen whilst I'm cooking.” — Kento to Satoru when he senses him about to step in. He can't share the space, it becomes claustrophobic.

Baking is his special interest; he has an absurd amount of information about this art form stored in his noggin. Dare I say he would own a bread encyclopaedia if it existed. Whilst bread is his favourite form of baked good, from time to time, he attempts to make confectionary, specifically those made of phyllo pastry. On the rare occasion, he might bake a pie or cake.

This man owns a lint roller because of his pet cats; he is not a first-time cat owner. Whilst his home is relatively clean, he can't help but feel the need to pick up those stray cat hairs. He doesn't want to accidentally get any in his mouth.

Speaking of his home, Kento's apartment is relatively minimalist, though the colour palette is warm and welcoming (lots of blues and browns). The only part of his home that is “messy” is one nook in his living room. The bookcase is overflowing with unread books, some sitting in neat stacks on the floor, whilst others are in cardboard boxes acting as surfaces for his potted plants. There are a few old newspapers and magazine recipes strewn on his desk, a cold cup of coffee, and two pen holders jam-packed with various dry markers and inkless pens. It's a sort of organised chaos.

He exclusively wears slippers and thongs/flip-flops indoors. He can’t stand walking around barefoot, it’s uncomfortable, and he doesn’t like his feet being cold or picking up any hair, lint, or crumbs that collect on the floor (despite his home being borderline sterile).

#jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen hcs #jjk headcanons #nanami kento fluff #nanami kento headcanons #nanami kento hcs #kento nanami headcanons #kento nanami hcs #nanami kento drabble #kento nanami drabble

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ravenmichaelisstuff · 9 months

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Ghost's first time on pride parade 🏳️‍🌈 (fluff, little angst, just my rant)

TW: Homophobia at the end

Soap is taking Ghost to a pride parade for the first time. Sergeant is there absolutely booming with pride, excitement and joy while Ghost is there just taking it all in- all the people that are surrounding him that might be feeling just like him. So many different people. Some with rainbows everywhere, just screaming PRIDE and some who just follow along silently with little smiles on their faces. Maybe it's their first time to?

And Ghost fucking loves it there. Even though he is not a fan of crowds. Johhny is right next to him, his arm hooked over his shoulder, covering them both with a rainbow. Ghost is floating with the realization that Soap is here because he is proud of loving him.

Simon notices some very young people as well as an old lesbian couple that makes him smile, because maybe one day if he manages to leave military alive- it could be him and Johnny.

One day- he promises himself. One day he will be able to look at Johnny, at his greying hair and the wrinkles surrounding his eyes like the the rays of light around the sun and smile because they fucking survived.

No one is batting an eye on him, no one seems to be bothered by the mask he is wearing, his gloves. People are /smiling/ at him, they look inviting. It feels great.

Until the parade passes by a church and they are greated with a black, morbid banners calling them pedophiles, a group of men screaming slurs at the top of their lungs. And Simon can't understand that, he was never a religious man, but he knew that Christianity was supposed to be about love and acceptance toward each other. Why loving someone is a sin when they can spit venom anywhere they please?

But it didn't last long as the crowd around him just screamed louder. And they weren't screaming slurs or more hate at those men. They just all singed louder, danced with more energy as to rub in those hateful people's faces how much fun they have, in how much joy they are to just love and be loved. Show that they are here and not going anywhere.

Johnny kissed him right in front of them. Pulling him down by his neck, uncovering his chapped lips and holding his waist in a way that made Ghost shudder like it was their first kiss.

And the parade moved on like they never passed by that church.

I am not at all projecting my own experiences, nah ah.

#soapghost #ghostsoap #john soap mactavish #ghost x soap #cod #simon ghost riley #cod mw2 #soap cod #soap mctavish #cod modern warfare #ghost simon riley #simon riley x john mactavish #john soap mctavish #john 'soap' mactavish

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kangmoon27 · 10 months

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Saleslady [S€LL YOUR BODY] | JUNGKOOK FF ONESHOT

Saleslady. That's your job, a saleslady. You're Infront of the story in the middle of the night holding a banner just like the other girls besides you. Your the best seller here.

Best seller you mean by the item that you sell? No definitely not. You don't sell clothes, shoes or other stuff like that, you're there holding a banner saying I'm for sale.

You're selling your body. For one night, or two you didn't care as long as they buy the nights they will spend with you that's it.

The night just begin for the saleslady like you. Some are already picked up while you. They can't just pick you up without show money.

You're the best seller for months. Rich people are fighting over you. They're literally killing each other on who will sold you tonight.

But as your value grows the more money you're earning, and the more money you're earning the more dangerous your job is getting.

Why?Because not only ordinary people, politicians, businesses are fighting to have you tonight but also those people who's working under the tables.

That's right the mafias.And as a mafia you won't be shocked after seeing one man killed Infront of you as the man got on you first before they did, before the mafia did."Yn" someone shouted you name, you look at her.

It's your mother, who's also the one who made you a saleslady. And you aren't happy about it but you couldn't do anything as she always says you own her a lot.

And keeps telling you that you should be thankful that he didn't aborted you after you ruined her career as a saleslady.

"What is it Madam?" You called her madam, of course she owns the club, she owns the agency, after getting a lot of money from selling her daughter it's impossible that she wouldn't build a business to grow her money more.

"He's here and he came to pick you up, come on fix yourself and look beautiful in front of him, he's a huge client Yn. Remember that don't fuck it up" she said as she grabbed the banner from your hand and started fixing your hair.

"Go on he's at the parking lot" she slap your butt cheek as you made your way to the parking lot. You arrived there.

It's him the amazing and very successful business man all over the Korea not only here but also to other country.

"Mr.Jeon you came back" you wave your hand at him while looking at him through the window. You smiled as he open the door.

You walked in. And sit beside him. She wrapped his arms around you. It disgusted you. You hate his touch yet you had to bare with it.

"The last time I didn't get a chance to taste you, so I'm here hoping now, now one will bother us and continue what we started" he said while kissing your neck.

You pushed him away and awkwardly laugh. He look at you in confused, you caresses his chest and licked your dried lips.

"Maybe you can take me home first and do it there." You said while biting your lips. He's surely falling.

You're at the kitchen drinking a lot of whiskey, you didn't wanna remember this night and you knew you won't even dare to touch him if you're not drown in alcohol.

If you're in your right state you would literally vomit if he would fuck you with a sense.

So right now you're trying your best to get drunk just to get a confidence to do it with that old man.

"I see, my father brought a saleslady again" tattoo man entered the kitchen leading his head to the door frame while looking at you.

Fuck! It's him, the rumors are true he's fucking hot, smoking hot!! His hand that is covered with tattoos, his piercing on his lips and eyebrows together with his six earrings on his ears.

This is crazy, your mind is going crazy. How come Mr.jeon can have a son that is looking like Lucifer's son because of his hotness.You just stared at him.

You didn't show interest in him even tho you're already die inside. You continue to drink and tried to ignore is existence.

"I need to get drunk so that I won't be remembering this horrifying night with your father" you said as you gulp on the wine glass.

You heard him laughed, you're about to look at him but shocked to see that he's already there Infront of you. Face are only inch away from you. You begin mesmerizing his face.

He caress your cheek and you felt your heart rate going crazy not you felt your pussy getting wet.You stared at him.

He smirk and pulled you by your neck kissing you passionately. You grabbed him and deepen the kiss. You didn't wanna let go.

Gosh those lips is literally taste like heaven while his hotness feels like hell.

"Why would you force yourself to an old fucking asshøle man like him when you can do it with me inside."he said as he broke the kiss.

"Seems like something happened that made you hate him that much." You said while slowly but sexily wrapping your arms around his neck.

"Simple, he ruined my life, he ruined my family because of a saleslady like you. And I hate them. You're one of them" he said.

You can sense the hated towards you, the atmosphere become more hot. Weird but you're turned on by his angriness.

It made you wanna be fucked with his so hard on this counter right now while you will beg for him to either stop or don't stop but it would definitely don't stop.

"So you hate me too?" You said and he nodded

"Yes, I fucking hate you, girls like you ruined relationship, girl like you ruined perfect family just like what you did to mine" he replied.

"But why do you have to be this attempting to me" he said as he pulled you closer to him again he connected his lips on your.

None of you opened your mouth, you just let your lips and his touched each other.

He pulled you closer, putting his knees in between your thighs as you begin to grind on it. He picked you up from the ground and made you sit on the counter, you both broke the kiss and tried catching you breath, you look at each other and found ways to connect your lips against each other again.

He started stripping you off while not breaking the kiss, unclipping your bra and started massaging it while you're moaning in-between the kiss.

His hand caresses your thighs and your inner thighs as he pulled your panty aside then entered his fingers inside you. Fucking you hand with his fingers, you groan in pleasure.

Pulling your head back as the pleasure begin to rise when he suddenly started sucking your boobs.

You can hear your wetness making sound everytime he's moving his fingers in and out of your pussy while his thumb is rubbing your clit. Too much pleasure, fuck how can he drain your energy by just fucking you using his fingers and mouth.

You grabbed his hair hard pulling him closer to you chest. He bite you lips that made you scream at the sudden pain yet it still turn you on. He continue sucking your boobies not forgetting to mark each part of it while his fingers never stopped fucking you even tho you've already cum and hit your climax.

He removed his fingers and put it in his mouth, tastes every bit of you. You look at him and didn't dare to look away, damn he's so fucking hot right now.

He smirk and pulled you down, turning you around and pin your head and hands on the island.

"Fuck I need to go and get your dad" you said. He got irritated hearing that from you he poke his inner cheek and unplugged his belt.

He it's your butt with it till he pushed himself inside you without giving warning.

You moan out loud not caring who evers hear you, you just enjoyed being fuck by the youngest mafia under the tables.

He continue fucking you to your butthole while spanking your thighs, playing with your boobies, and sucking your neck. You enjoyed everything, he made you cum by rubbing your clit at the same time he's fucking you from behind, massaging your boobs on his other hand while his mouth is placed on your neck, you fucking enjoy it all.

He reached his highest point and released his cum inside you. He hugged you from behind while he's still inside you, both of you are breathing heavily.

"Are you going to k'll me now" you asked as you chuckles. He sigh and kiss the side of your head.

"No I will k'll every man who will try to steal you from me, even it that means I had to k'll my own father" he said.

#bts #bts fanfic #bts jungkook #bts smut #bts x reader #jungkook #jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #jungkookff

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