#sometimes girls stares at each other without saying anything and that means everything

[kb11rd]

A quick gwenmj warmup <3

#kebb's art #gwenmj #mjgwen #gwen stacy #mj watson #mary jane watson #spiderman #spider man #sometimes girls stares at each other without saying anything and that means everything #girls in love real

[lunarw0rks]

Hello! I just found your blog and I just started reading everything I saw 😅. Can I request 141 + König + Alejandro with a pregnant reader? They don't know yet and when the reader will break the news they are really stressed with work and end up taking it out on the reader, they end up getting into an argument and saying they hate the reader and that their life would be so much better without the reader in it (😈). The reader takes this seriously and leaves when they are asleep... Months later they meet again when the reader is on her way to the hospital to give birth (😈). Angst to fluff pls. If you don't feel good about writing or it's too big, that's fine. Have a nice day and thank you so much for all the time you spend writing to us.

The Things We Say // 141 Drabble

Summary: You're expecting, but it's not good news. To him, at least. Your relationship takes a hit, but once he meets your child, he's swallowed with regret for how he treated you.

Warning(s): angst to fluff, hurt/comfort, pregnancy, childbirth, mentions of premature birth/complications, mild injury/blood, strong language, established relationship, fem!Reader, no use of y/n

A/N: I was hurting my own feelings---but, there's fluff after the angst, so don't get too upset besties<3 Hope you don't mind anon, I took some creative liberty because I didn't want them all to have the same plotline. | Word Count: 5.9k

꒦꒷ MAIN MASTERLIST ꒷꒦ 141 MASTERLIST // have a request? ⋆ ⚘ 🕊 ˚✧ ₊˚ʚ ao3 ver.

SYNOPSIS; he had been in the thick of it lately, sometimes more overwrought when at home with you than in active combat, it seemed. Conversations were either abrupt, crude, or nonexistent—often just building on top of the tension building between the two of you. Relationships were supposed to be fifty-fifty, but you felt you were carrying the burden of the whole percentage. That’s why the news couldn’t have come at a worse time—you, staring at the two lines instead of one. No matter how long you stared, double-checked the diagram, the answer was the same. Pregnant. So, now you knew two things for certain, you were expecting, and most heartbreaking—the other one responsible was at his worst. To break the news to him, it took every fiber of your being.

⋘ » ☆ « ⋙

AFTERMATH; nine months of hell. That’s how you would answer if someone asked. Few people did though, even at work or out on the street. There was the occasional boy or girl, how are you feeling. But they were being polite, or taking pity on the pregnant woman without a ring on her finger. The pregnant woman with bags under her eyes, the one who winces with each step because she’s ready to pop. None of it meant anything to you, because the other half of this responsibility had been left in the dark, and not for much longer. You weren’t raising this child alone, no matter how irate he was going to be when you contacted him.

Price

One of John’s many talents; stewing on his feelings, keeping them suppressed for an unnatural amount of time.

Often so long that he forgot about the source of his anger once he had time to catch up to them. That is… Until his work was involved. Then he was an entirely different man, often spending his time deep in a bottle and with a nose deep in paperwork, with little regard for anyone else around him.

His control, it was typically so consistent, that he knew not to bring his professional problems home. But lately? It’s been anything but typical. He wasn’t what you would call mean, but there was definitely a negative word to describe it. Cold? Apathetic? Perhaps even unwelcoming?

The bickering, if you could call it that, had droned on for several minutes now. Though, it was mostly you venting your frustrations to an uninterested Price. ❝I know it’s not good timing, John. Why the fuck do you think I’m in here trying to reason with you? Are we just supposed to ignore this until we can’t anymore?❞ You hissed, tempted to rip the paperwork from his grip to get him to pay attention.

He always wanted children, but not right now. Naturally, that’s when it happened. He felt like he was drowning, at first only professionally, but now personally too. The funds weren’t a problem, the kid had two parents, but… you and him—nothing was working.

❝Sweetheart, I’m in the thick of it right now. Please.❞ He didn’t need to raise his voice for you to see how irritated he was. Perhaps at the baby, you, himself, or all the above. ❝I have a meeting.❞ He stood up from his workspace, steaming coffee in hand.

John walked away from you like you were a pestering soldier, not the mother of his child. Enough was enough.

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He thought he was slick, only giving you physical checks to see your face, to ensure that you were indeed alright. It was often the coffee shop within equal walking distance of your two separate homes. John would always slide the amount you needed across the table, a look of remorse on his face. Each monthly meeting, your stomach would grow in size, as did your drained expression.

But you wouldn’t talk to him. You would only text him the amount, nod when he asked questions. It was the worst torture you could put a man like John through—one that needed the approval of his loved ones. It just couldn’t happen, not yet. The wounds of how he treated you, they were too fresh, even after nine months of this routine.

To be truthful, you debated on even calling him when you went into labor. You could do it alone, right? With just the support of the delivery nurses, and most of all your baby girl as the reward? Perhaps you could wait until after, give him the respect to at least meet his daughter. For someone not carrying a child, he looked just as beat; sunken eyes, less tidy facial hair than usual, and somehow even more tobacco on his breath.

John was clawing himself from the inside out, begging for something other than a “yes” or “no” from your lips.

—

❝I can’t do this,❞ you repeated it about fifty times, tears streaming down your cheeks from both the pain and the distraught feelings. That plan you had to not call him, it was falling through quite quickly. This level of agony? You needed someone other than a doctor. You needed the father, as much as it pained you to admit.

❝Yes, you can dear, women have babies everyday.❞ Bless the nurse, she was trying her best to keep you calm, but it didn’t work.

What if something went wrong? If somehow you didn’t make it but your baby girl did, she would be alone until he got here… That couldn’t, no—wouldn’t happen. He needed to be there, right beside this bed to hold her in case you couldn’t.

In between your pained grunts, you finally spit out what you’d been trying to tell her, finding a split second of sensibility during all this distress. ❝Call… John. Please, call him!❞

—

The doors swung open faster than any of the personnel, his gaze softening when he saw you breathing in a patterned fashion. The nurse beside you gave him a nod, freeing your hand for him to take her place. John wasn’t going to miss this, and frankly, he was irked that he almost did. But he wasn’t irked at you; he was irked at himself for taking this for granted.

His soothing voice talks you through each contraction, a soothing hand dabbing away the sweat and tears streaming down your face.

❝I got you, sweetheart. You’re almost done pushing.❞ Though he looked gruff on the outside, inside he was distraught. You had maintained the cold shoulder throughout the pregnancy, but you still called him here? You were more than he deserved in his eyes.

The last round of pushing, and they were close together now. You had about thirty seconds to say this, before you were screaming again.❝I’m glad you’re here.❞ Despite all the pain you were in, you gave his hand a squeeze, staring at him with a glossy expression.

His eyes nearly watered; the first sentence you had uttered to him in months, and it was clear you meant every bit of it. You needed him and so did your daughter, right here right now. He pressed a kiss to your temple, a soothing massaging your shoulder.

John kept his tone firm on purpose, to emphasize how deeply he cared for you right now. ❝I’ll always be here for you, love. Always.❞ 

Simon

Simon loved deep; hated even deeper.

It was one of the features that drew you to him in the first place, how blunt he could be, how his broodiness contrasted your personality in more ways than one. His cynical behavior could be humorous, could be reassuring, but most of all—bitter. To add stress to the equation, to bring it home? He was an explosive disaster waiting to happen.

❝Simon,❞ you approached from behind, holding the test in your hands, because you knew the first question he would ask when you told him; is if you took one. Well, if he wasn’t actively cursing under his breath, he would’ve.

Instead, he merely flicked his eyes over for a brief moment, as if you were a stranger on the street that said excuse me. ❝Simon.❞ Your tone grew firmer, clutching the stick with more apprehension.

❝Bloody Christ, what?❞ He shifted in his seat, bloodshot and hooded eyes that only twisted the knife further. You couldn’t tell him now, not with the pressure of being on the spot. The right words just wouldn’t come out, prompting you to put the stick behind your back. ❝Goddamn nuisance.❞ He muttered under his breath as if it was only supposed to be an internal thought. 

Though, he didn’t look all that remorseful about it—at least on the outside.

He had never said anything like that before, at least not to your face. It seemed, all the weeks of tension and cold shoulder, it was enough. You were done and out the door the second he’d dozed.

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Simon made a few futile attempts to reach out, but his own stubbornness prevented him from ever being face-to-face. He beat himself up so badly, and from his side of things—he’d only lost one person, not two.

It pained you to ask the delivery nurse to call him. You wanted to shove the crowning newborn right back inside and hold off, to go find him yourself and smack sense into him for putting you through this agony. But you couldn’t. Quite literally couldn’t get up, and didn’t want to. Resulting in pettiness and venom would make you worse than him because you would be using this child as a pawn.

He said nothing, but his eyes said enough. The nurses put a sterile drape over his shoulders, but he paid them no mind. His amber eyes remained on you; a bulging belly and an expression of pure agony. Had he missed something, a crucial chapter of your new life post-breakup? Most of all, why did you call him?

❝Hold my hand.❞ Simon found the side of your bed, allowing you to dig your fingernails into his forearm until there were imprints. He had few words, but the countenance of concern and guilt said it all. If this wasn’t his… you would’ve done this alone, or the father would be here. Then it dawned on him; it was his.

—

Hours passed, and he still hadn’t mentioned the obvious. Nine months without his support—financial or moral. You needed rest, as did the baby girl—so you were getting it, first and foremost. The adult matters would be better talked about when you weren’t still freshly recovering.

Simon tapped his foot against the tile, sitting in the chair beside the bed. He was unsure of who to keep an eye on more; the newborn swaddled in her own crib, or you, exhaustedly sleeping in your hospital bed. Though he’d held the girl, it felt forbidden, like he was only a placeholder until your body recovered enough to do it yourself. It was shock preventing him from feeling, not cruelty.

You stirred awake, a sigh of contempt when you laid eyes on him. The labor was a blur your mind had already shut out, and you truly didn’t recall the nurses contacting him. Your eyes were glossy with dark circles underneath them. ❝I’m…❞ It was like the night you tried to tell him but couldn’t, the words wouldn’t come out.

Simon saw that look in your eyes; the fear that he would explode, or storm out and leave you with the child forever—but he wasn’t. All the years of trying to not relieve the same mistakes his own father made, it would be useless if he did that. And he couldn’t, seeing that look of desperation on your face, how you looked as if you were going to burst into tears at the sight of him. That look, it was the same one that gnawed at him during those months apart, how he found you and your belongings gone.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. ❝Shh… Don’t apologize. Ever.❞ He was hovering now, a kiss pressed to your forehead. Whatever you decided when you were healed enough, he would take it like a man, because he had the audacity to speak to you like a man who wronged him.

Soap

Soap was… a complicated man to say the least. Usually, he was sweet, charming, with the right amount of cockiness. His ability to make you laugh drew you into him in the first place. But it was dwindling—at least during the past few weeks. Now, all that remained was smugness and bitter mutters under the breath.

❝Don’t be a child about this, we’ll figure it out,❞ He says, slamming his car door behind you. The first time you two had been out to dinner together in weeks, spoiled because you finally broke the news to him. You teared up in the restaurant because his reaction was anything but accepting, and frankly, he found it embarrassing.

He hadn’t meant it that way—that’s just how it came out.

He truly did want to figure this baby thing out, but it was the worst possible timing; an all-time high of stress at work, bickering with you constantly. And now, a third added to the dynamic with only months to prepare? It was too much. ❝Oh, I’m acting like a child?❞ You walked into the house, taking off the jewelry you had on to look nice for him.

The bickering that ensued—it was nothing nice, nothing you’d care to remember.

❝I don’t want you to go, lass. Don’t do this.❞ You had already made up your mind. Perhaps it was your emotions clouding your judgment, that instinct you felt being a few weeks along… It didn’t matter, you couldn’t be here. Not with him, not right now.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

You were about to pop, literally any day now. You knew that meant you would have to talk to the father, and interact with him for about eighteen years—at least be civil. But the rationality of it, how you would have to co-parent with him, didn’t ease your anxieties. Of course, he was adamant about checking up on you and being more of a parasite than the fetus taking half your energy.

You closed the car door with your hip, a slow waddle up the pavement. Where the hell your keys were, that was another story—something you would deal with once you rolled yourself up to the door.

❝What the hell are you doin’?❞ The voice nearly made you drop all the grocery bags in your grasp, a jumpy shriek coming out. When you whipped around, it was Soap, a look of upset on his very expressive face.

Once you started to recover from the scare of a lifetime, an unintentional one at that, a scowl formed on your face. It was like he had a sense of the absolute worst time to show up and annoy you, especially now that you were swollen and extra agitated. ❝A phone call would’ve worked, Johnny. Or, I don’t know, maybe a ‘hey I’m right behind you, lady’!❞ You attempted to mock his accent out of pure frustration, but he didn’t find the humor in it, at least not right away.

He yanked the bags out of your grip, stomping up the steps of your porch. ❝You shouldn’t be carryin’ these.❞ You really should not be doing that, he was right, but the thought of him being your grocery boy—showing up even more? ❝Keys.❞ He held out his free hand, the other one swimming in bags. It was ridiculous, apparently, you weren’t allowed to twist a key now, either.

You shove past him once he’s turned the key, squeezing past and joining him in the kitchen. Without a word, he starts putting away anything and everything you bought. Some are nutritious, others purely to feed your cravings. ❝Don’t start.❞ You pointed a finger at him when he picked up a family-sized bag of candy, a smart-ass comment daring to escape his lips.

❝God, I can’t believe you, Johnny. Sneaking up on me like that, I could’ve fallen.❞ You put an instinctive hand on your stomach, still irked by his presence.

❝No, you would’ve fallen carrying all those bags yourself. I have a right to be worried, it’s my bloody kid too.❞ He retorts, a hand on his hip. He’s done all he’s obligated to now; carrying and putting away your groceries.

You tighten your lips into a line, fighting the urge to start a full-blown argument. ❝Yeah, you remind me every day, so thanks for tha— Shit.❞ It seemed, raising your voice counted as exerting yourself because there was a sudden cramp in your stomach, a trickle down your pant leg.

Soap’s eyes widened, seeing you go from scolding him to hunched over and holding your stomach. You had forced yourself into labor, now standing on knees about to buckle. ❝I’ve got you, now get going woman, before I put you over my shoulder.❞ He felt he had never moved faster, a tight fist around your forearm to keep you standing as he led you through the door you had just walked in.

—

It seemed there was little time between being admitted to actively pushing. This kid wanted out, and right this second. You let out a shriek as the back of your head slammed against the pillow, sweat trickling down your brow as you cursed and wailed. ❝I know it hurts, love, but you got this.❞ He allowed you to clamp down on his hand, to dig your fingertips until they drew blood.

❝Oh, you know do you?!❞ You snapped at him, finding it hard to be nice when you felt like you were being ripped in half.

❝If I wasn’t,❞ you grunted in between words, face scrunched and labored breathing, ❝stuck in this damn bed, I would so… hurt you right now, Johnny.❞ He fought the urge to snicker just a little bit, masking it with his concern for you. Seeing you in agony, even when you were actively snapping at him, it didn’t please him one bit.

Well, you were arguing with him, so he knew you weren’t actively dying.

If you used enough of that anger, it would help you literally push through the pain, just like how it caused the kid to want to come out right this second. For once, his pestering and sarcasm were actually helping.

With one final wave of it, your back arched off the bed and finally, the loud cry of an infant filled the white-walled room. Soap nearly fainted, if he was being honest—he was awfully squeamish for someone who dealt with blood daily. But it was your blood and… fluids, things that made him shiver when he pictured how painful that could’ve been.

The doctors were speedy, cleaning off and checking vitals. All he could do was stare at the newborn—his baby boy. And then he looked at you, choked up and stared in awe at the baby set on your chest. ❝Jesus…❞ he leaned down, placing a gentle hand on yours as it held the child’s head.

All the fighting, all the bickering, even the late-night candy runs—they were well worth it. He had a second chance now, to make things right with you, and to be a decent father.

Gaz

Gaz could be hotheaded, sometimes downright blunt, especially when he’s passionate about something to do with his work. The night you were going to break the news, nothing was going right. He came home in a huff, not bothering to take off his boots before plopping on the sofa. Kyle had a right to be stressed; look at what he does all day. But he didn’t have a right to be cruel to you because of it.

You took a seat beside him and set the positive test down on his thigh. A silence followed by a scowl, and then he finally spoke. ❝You can’t be serious.❞ It nearly gutted you right then and there. His leg began to bounce anxiously the longer he glanced at the life-changing test results. 

❝Kyle, I—❞ you weren’t even sure what you were trying to say either, not that he gave you a chance. ❝I don’t have time for this, babe. I really can’t do this right now.❞ He put his head in his hands, a flustered groan escaping his lips.

❝Are you saying you don’t want this? That we shouldn’t have done this?❞ You were suddenly standing, eyes wide and watering. You felt like you had just been dumped on the street, despite his unclear tone.

He peered up, lips in a blunt line. ❝Maybe we shouldn’t have.❞ You could’ve crawled into a hole and died right then and there, but you merely nodded. Nodded and then left the room, leaving him to his moodiness. No, it wasn’t the best timing, but that didn’t give him the right to brush you off, to treat you like a distasteful afterthought.

It wasn’t just you anymore, it was you and the baby.

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It was one of his few days off—though he wasn’t feeling much relaxation. You were still hot and cold with him, now about halfway through your third trimester; thirty-two weeks to be exact. It was nearing that point, where he had prepared a spare room for the baby, began coordinating plans for labor, etc… 

But he still didn’t feel ready, or like he deserved you after how cruel he was that night. Kyle was only helping you to help you and the baby.

His phone buzzed, right when he had begun relaxing for the evening. 10:32 PM; and it was your number. The second he heard the voice of a nurse on the other line, not yours, his feet were halfway out the front door.

—

❝I’m fine, Kyle. I’m fine…❞ It seemed no matter how many times you repeated it, he didn’t seem to believe it. From the minute he entered your hospital room to now, he had at least one hand on you, a thumb grazing the cuts and bruises on your body. You had been in a car accident—mild for you, life-threatening for a preemie. ❝You’re not fine.❞ he said firmly, eyes darting towards your clothes bagged in the corner—bloodied and with windshield pieces still embedded.

Kyle was more worried about you at first, but you were solely concerned about your baby—left alone in the NICU being poked and prodded by personnel. You had to be induced, otherwise he wouldn’t have made it past the front doors. Now, he was too weak to be visited, too small and vulnerable to be held by his own mother yet. It was gut-wrenching; hours without a solid answer, because his chances depended solely on him making it through the night.

Now, there was nothing to do but wait, perhaps see your baby through a glass box if you got lucky.

—

❝He’s perfect,❞ Kyle peered down at the preemie in his hands, a baggy blue cap on his head. There were small babies, and he was somehow smaller. What once was the scare of a lifetime, it was now a passing memory to remind Gaz of what he could’ve lost. He would never make the mistake of talking to you like that again, even if the two events didn’t correlate.

What if the night you left, you got into an accident then, and it was much worse? He wouldn’t be able to live with himself, plain and simple. ❝It’s cheesy but, he does have your eyes.❞ You whispered from the nursing chair you were sitting in, still healing and fatigued from the ordeal. The picture in front of you; Kyle looking at your son with such love—it was irreplaceable and forever stuck in your memories.

❝Correct. But he has your scowl, babe.❞ Gaz flicked his eyes upwards, feeling you gently nudge his shin at the sound of the comment.

It didn’t matter the things he said months ago, as long as he cherished this new life with you as much as you planned to.

Alejandro

Alejandro always had passion for the things he cherished; you and his work, nothing else mattered more. Passion led to intense feelings, intense feelings turned into misplaced bitterness. It wasn’t your fault that you were expecting, no more than it was his, at least. He knew that and had he just taken a breath and thought more carefully about his phrasing, this whole mess could’ve been avoided.

❝Do you think I wanted to interrupt you, Alejandro?❞ You hissed, standing in the doorway of his office with the positive test in your hands. He had just looked at you with such distaste as if you were the root cause of his stress and not his work.

What better way to stir the pot, than to match his wrath? Well, it certainly did that, though seeing him rage was the last sight you wanted to see. Alejandro always had trouble with his anger, often finding himself with all these feelings he had no clue how to control.

❝You always do what you want!❞ There it was, him blowing his fuse. He’d thrown his hands in the air, face tightened into a scowl. He couldn’t leave it at that, either, not when his rage came in such intense waves. ❝You’ll do what you always do—bleed me dry!❞

You couldn’t speak, despite how vicious you felt only seconds before. It seemed too truthful for your liking like he had been waiting for an excuse to spill his guts. ❝As long as you have enough to amuse yourself, I’m nothing to you, right?❞ He wasn’t yelling anymore, but his mocking tone was enough to tear at your heartstrings.

Had he seriously played that card with you—the man always insistent on taking care of you, financially, physically, emotionally? Now, of all times? The argument ended with you slamming the front door behind you, something he would’ve done.

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You spent weeks ignoring him, and throughout the pregnancy, it was dry texts or brief calls. His only sign that you were even alive was the notification that you had used his account to purchase necessities. The irony of it made Alejandro nauseous, how awful he made it sound that you were doing what he told you to; to let him take care of you. The fact that you didn’t drain the funds, only bought what you needed, spoke volumes.

❝I’m not upset at you, amor—I wasn’t upset with you.❞

Alejandro reached a hand across the picnic table, a firm but loving grip on your forearm. You looked beat; hair a different length than before, exhausted eyes that were brimming with tears, and most of all a growing stomach. It was all his fault; the reason you didn’t want to face him like this, in fear that he would cut you and the baby off for good. Only, he was there to see your face, not for confrontation or another spat.

It didn’t matter what you said, if you screamed at him right now, or said nothing. Alejandro had made up his mind the night you left. ❝I’ll come to every appointment, parenting class, anything.❞

—

Of all the nights for you to be in labor, it had to be during a wicked storm. You had gone over to his house to make civil conversation over dinner, to at least attempt at repairing things. He had slaved over the stove, cooking his favorite for you. For most of the meal, things were… surprisingly tranquil; even romantic.

You were heavily pregnant, were you supposed to refuse a warm meal? Not a chance. You were too full, too swollen to get up out of the dining chair once the meal finished. And looking out the window? There was no way in hell Alejandro was going to let you drive home in this; droplets whipped down, trees and waste bins flew away from the force of it, and the rain was icy. Well, you were exhausted, and he had a bed he was willing to give up. Your back and feet practically sighed in relief when you laid back in his bed, the one you two once shared. It was a nice feeling, being there again and knowing Alejandro was trying his hardest to plead forgiveness.

About an hour into your much needed-slumber, you felt a pool in the sheets. Instinctually, you figured it was the fetus pressing on your bladder—a downright embarrassing thing you’d have to wake up and explain to him. But… it was clear it wasn’t that. You were in labor and stuck here.

The shriek you let out when you got a violent contraction; Alejandro dashed quicker than he ever did when dodging bullets. His fumbling fingers dialed 911, yanking the comforter off the bed to get a better view of your dilation. Fortunately, he was trained on how to deliver a baby when stranded, or in a country without medical support. But this was his baby and your life was in his hands. If he didn’t do this correctly, if something went wrong, he would never forgive himself.

The ambulance wouldn’t be there for an hour—you didn’t have an hour to spare, this baby was coming now. ❝You can do this, amor, we’re doing this together.❞ One hand clenched yours, the other kept an eye on the crowning baby. Just how you hadn’t woken up sooner, neither of you knew. Perhaps you had gotten so used to cramps and pains, that you thought it was just another sleepless night courtesy of the little one.

—

The moment your wails went silent as his baby girl finally came, Alejandro felt his heart drop. He had to make the worst decision; focusing on the newborn first. He wrapped her in one of his shirts, wiping the fluid and blood from her small face. As he cradled her, a quick hand fingered for a pulse, a loud sigh escaping his lips when he felt one. You had only passed out from the pain—probably doing you a service, considering he didn’t have the proper medication to numb your pain.

Your eyes fluttered open at the sound of the wailing child, still with gritted teeth. But your baby was there—and her lungs were very clearly working. Alejandro set her down on your chest, allowing you to hold your daughter for the first time. ❝You did so well, cariño. Look at her.❞ He was merely distracting you with the baby on your chest, to not divert your attention towards the state your body was in as he cleaned you up.

Somehow, he had pulled this off with both his girls safe, soon to be checked out properly at a hospital. When you first broke the news, he thought he knew the meaning of being so suddenly thrust into fatherhood, but that took on a whole new meaning after tonight.

König

There had once been a line he didn’t cross, but he did that night. König never yelled at you. He saved that stern side of him for his work because it was acceptable there. But in the weeks that his work had bled onto you, spoiling the relationship, his values seemed to loosen. Though he was a complicated man, a man uncertain of himself and his appearance, he maintained a hardness about him. Ruthless in the field and immensely protective of anyone that had come to love him. 

You approached him as he worked, placing the test on the desk he was sitting at. ❝König, I need to tell you something.❞

With his head facing the paperwork, he merely shrugged at you. Until he saw what you’d placed there, his eyes going wide. But it wasn’t shock or excitement; it was disdain for the fact that this baby was just another interruption—you were just another interruption. ❝I have no time for this, Schatz, you know that.❞

He didn’t need to raise his voice for his words to sting, his bitter tone was more than enough. But he surely hadn’t meant it like that, right? He’d meant he didn’t have time for this right now… right?

❝Why don’t you go rest, then?❞ He asks, picking up the folder that he was reading previously. It wasn’t a request made out of concern, König was patronizing you. His glare was typically enough to make a soldier scramble, but you just stood there for a few seconds, biting back the urge to choke.

How you left that night, it wasn’t dramatic or emotional, it was dry. König tells you to think clearly about this, to sleep on it. But you couldn’t—and you weren’t going to be a verbal punching bag.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

König only called you weekly for appointment updates, or to let you know he had sent you a check. Other than that, words dripped with tension and the urge to say so much more. But you were too stubborn for your own good, and so was he. You were more concerned with hosting life than playing games with a father who treated you like a wimp.

He’d only seen you once, during the second trimester when he showed up at your apartment. You protested, but he showed up anyway, saying he needed “proof” that you and the fetus were safe. The voice on the phone wasn’t enough, in his eyes.

Of course, when you needed him most, screaming and keeling over in the kitchen, he wasn’t there. It was a neighbor that called an ambulance for you because they knew they had a pregnant tenant next door. In fact, it was such a close call, you nearly didn’t make it to the delivery room before the newborn came out wailing.

The only plus side? While the paramedics were deterring you from pushing, you’d sent a text—probably unintelligible—but a text, nonetheless. He knew your due date, how today was only a few days off, and he was in his car before he could grasp the severity of this new life stage.

—

❝I’m here, schätzchen. I’m not going to hurt you again, or him.❞ He hunched over the bed, eyes in a perpetual state of disbelief as he watched you soothe the whining newborn. Clarity hit him like a truck when he heard your screams during delivery, and then he was all in. Not that he had a choice, this was his doing too.

He had given you the financial support to get proper nutrition for you and the baby, to pay for the appointments, but that wasn’t enough—not in König’s eyes. He needed to snap out of his self-pity and be a support system. Whether you wanted to co-parent or work on repairing the relationship, you were not under any circumstances taking care of this newborn alone, at your apartment.

He placed a hand in your hair, threading his fingers through the strands. ❝We can clear out the spare room, hm? There’s more than enough room for the two of you.❞ He was already picturing it, how he was going to pull an all-nighter and get to work on the room, going to your apartment and moving the baby supplies from yours to his.

König didn’t need to state the obvious, that you weren’t bound to any type of relationship besides the one concerning the child. Whether you wanted to move out once the baby hit a certain age or not, he was going to keep an eye on the two of you.

Two of you, not just the newborn you were rocking. It was either both of you, or neither, and he was intent on it being the first option.

If you made it this far - THANK YOU!

#mw2 #mw2 fanfic #call of duty #simon riley #task force 141 #simon riley x reader #ghost mw2 #task force 141 x reader #simon riley fluff #alejandro vargas #alejandro vargas x reader #captain john price #john price #kyle gaz garrick #gaz x reader #konig x you #soap mactavish #soap mactavish x reader #task force 141 x y/n

[jupitercomet]

Hidden in the Shadows

summary - Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw was ruthless, a stone cold killer both in and outside of the ring—with the belts and trophies to prove it. When a miscalculation results in a target being put on the back of his trainer's daughter, Bradley finds himself facing responsibility he never signed up for. You're a whole new challenge. And Bradley doesn't think you're one he can fight his way out of.

warnings - DARK THEMES, boxer au, language, mentions of unhealthy relationships (Natasha and Razor), drugs, mentions of needles, stalking, smoking, ptsd episode, self injury, mentions of blood, no use of y/n

this series is 18+, minors please do not interact

word count - 3.9k

monsters in the dark masterlist

“I need you to tell me everything you know about the shady shit Razor was getting involved in.”

Natasha’s eyes widen in surprise when Bradley sits himself down on a bar stool without so much as a greeting. It’s afternoon so the Hard Deck is fairly empty—aside from the regulars—but it’s because it’s afternoon that it’s unusual for Bradley to be here when he could be at Mav’s.

Bradley knows this and he also knows that, logically, this could have waited until later, but you’ve been living with him for a little over two weeks and still your situation has yet to make any sense. Bradley’s not impatient, but he does want you out of his apartment. Your nightmares have also increased, which Bradley can only assume are now triggered by the reality of being actively stalked. But the fact that he’s stayed up most nights silently comforting you, in a way he still doesn’t fully understand, has nothing to do with why he can’t wait any later than midday to talk to Natasha.

The woman herself though doesn’t seem too interested in whatever Bradley has to say, her mouth only twitching slightly as she turns away from him. “I’m working, Rooster.”

Bradley crosses his arms, not moving from the bar stool. He’s not stupid, he knows she’s hiding something. The two stare at each other and it must become clear to Natasha that he’s not leaving until he knows what that thing is because she sighs in defeat. 

“You have to promise you won’t get mad.”

“I’m not promising shit,” Bradley grunts.

“Right,” Natasha kisses her teeth with her tongue, almost as if she expected nothing more from him. “Look I don’t know a lot, okay? And I didn’t exactly stick around to figure out, but—” She glances around the bar before dropping her voice. “A couple months ago, Isaac started talking all this shit about how he was making it big, and not in boxing. I didn’t really know what it meant, but he was acting so weird I honestly didn’t have the time to think about it.”

“Acting weird how?” Bradley narrows his eyes.

Natasha crosses her arms defensively, as if, even in name, Isaac was something to keep herself safe from. “He’d ghost me for days sometimes, come back like nothing happened. I called him out on it one night and he kept saying something about ‘special friends’. At first, I thought he was talking about other girls, to spite me or something, but… I don’t know. I don’t think he was.”

Bradley pauses, the weight of her words catching him off guard. “What do you mean?” 

“He was… He was using, Rooster—I think he still is. He was fucking erratic, telling me that we don’t have to worry about anything anymore, that he made it big, bigger than any of us thought he could.”

Bradley shakes his head. “That’s impossible. Abnesti’s got him in fights, we get tested every other week.”

“I think I’m smart enough to know when Isaac’s on drugs,” Natasha snaps, before taking a deep breath. “Besides, I know he is, Rooster, because he tried to get me to pick them up for him once.”

“What?”

“I think he forgot we’d broken up or something. I don’t know what the fuck he’s putting in his system, but it’s messing him up bad.” Natasha grabs a cup suddenly, like the conversation is suddenly too much to have without something to keep her hands busy. “He was begging me, sent me an address and everything,” Natasha bites her lip, tightening her grip on her bar towel as her cleaning of the glass gets more rushed. “I ignored it, but he called me, like, seven times.”

Bradley purses his lips.

What Natasha’s telling him is impossible. Razor fights almost more than he does, and even illegal boxing rings have some sense of order—fighters can’t just pump themselves full of steroids and go buck wild. Instead, both Maverick and Abnesti agreed to have a third party come in biweekly for drug tests. If Razor was putting anything in his system, everyone would know, and he certainly wouldn’t be able to get away with it for months. So if it was a drug that somehow wasn’t getting picked up, what was it?

Bradley meets Natasha’s eye again. “Do you still have the address?”

The way you absentmindedly slam his car door as you hop into the passenger seat has Bradley cringing internally, but he bites his tongue before he can snap at you about it. You’re too excited anyway—not like you aren’t always—and Bradley doesn’t need you crying to Adler about his temper. That’s what he tells himself anyway.

Bradley isn’t entirely sure what he thinks about you. You’re overwhelming and, on paper, everything he finds annoying in a person. Logically he should have a constant migraine around you. You’re loud, and talkative, and almost always smiling, why wouldn’t he? But, for some inexplicable reason, he doesn’t.

“You can come inside, you know,” you gesture to the front door of the animal shelter and the words themselves should sound like a dig at Bradley, a reminder of how socially inept he is. But they come from your lips sweetly, like an honest invitation.

Bradley had taken to picking you up after work ever since you first started insisting on going. Given that your car had very clearly been photographed by whoever Razor was tangling himself up with, it made the most sense to him. He knows that a dark blue Bronco isn’t exactly inconspicuous, but given that you haven’t received any more pictures—and, notably no pictures of his car—Bradley thinks it’s the safest option. 

And maybe there’s the reason why Bradley can’t seem to be annoyed with you the way he’s annoyed with everyone else. Because, on some level, it’s his fault you’re in genuine danger. You certainly didn’t set out to be stalked by his rival all on your own. Whether it was his intention or not, he took your safety from you. And that was something you did nothing to deserve. So maybe that’s why he’s able to overlook all your… questionable quirks.

“What movie do you want to watch tonight? It’s your turn to pick one,” you remind him after whatever topic you had been talking about before ran its course and Bradley bites back a sigh.

Regrettably, movie nights had become a nightly thing for the two of you and once you’d stopped watching Jason Bourne, the choice of what movie you watched alternated between you both. It wasn’t that Bradley even remotely enjoyed that time with you—you’d subjected him to La La Land and he might never forgive you for that—but it was a way to ensure you’d fall asleep on the couch without being weird about it.

Bradley had never brought up your nightmares to you. He wasn’t sure how to and he’s sure it’s not any of his business. All he knew was that, for whatever reason, knowing that someone was next to you as you slept helped. Bradley’s involvement in that was a secret kept between him and your subconscious and he planned to keep it that way.

“Drive.” He says the first movie that pops into his head.

You light up. “Ooh, a Ryan Gosling binge, I can get behind that— Oh! We should save the Barbie movie for last!”

Instead of saying his impulse reaction of “Absolutely fucking not”, Bradley lets out a snort of air. “Don’t think this arrangement’s gonna last that long, toots.”

“I hope not,” you agree and your smile doesn’t falter. “But we’ll still be friends. Oh! Maybe I could finally invite you over to my place and we could watch it there!”

Bradley doesn’t respond, but that doesn’t seem to deter you as you start rambling on about other Ryan Gosling movies you like.

You really are something else. 

After a moment, a song comes on the radio and you must recognize it because you gasp, moving to turn it up slightly. You’re humming along contentedly, looking out the window with a smile, and Bradley physically has to rip his gaze away from you to focus on the road. His mind drifts back to his conversation with Natasha. Nothing is making sense to him right now, not you, not Razor, not a single part of it. He does know one thing though. This wasn’t some petty boxing rivalry anymore. And as he looks at you again, a warm smile on your face as you watch a dog pass on the sidewalk, he realizes that maybe it never was.

His jaw tenses slightly. Whatever it is, you had no business being in it. And Bradley would make sure of that. His phone feels heavy in his pocket, Natasha’s forwarded text weighing it down so much it feels like it’s going to rip through his joggers. Bradley swallows. 

“You alright spending the night at Natasha’s tomorrow?”

You turn at the sudden sound of his voice. “Yeah, that should be fine. Are you busy?”

The light ahead turns green and Bradley uses that as an excuse not to answer you right away. Logically he knows that Adler wouldn’t want him telling you any part of this. Honestly, Bradley doesn’t want to either—you’d probably demand you go with him and then compare the two of you to Scooby-Doo or some shit and that is just a bit above Bradley pay grade. On the other hand, he feels bad leaving you in the dark. You’re clearly terrified enough as it is, you’ve probably pictured far worse in your head.

Something about that makes Bradley’s hands clench against the steering wheel. Bradley decides suddenly that you shouldn’t have to worry about anything because he’d take care of it. You can watch dumb movies and drink shitty milkshakes and he’ll take care of the rest. He owes Adler that much.

Maybe he owes you that much too.

“Bradley?” You try again softly and he suddenly realizes how long the two of you have been in silence for.

He blinks twice to clear his head. “What?”

“I was just, um,” you seem nervous, playing with your fingers. “I was just wondering where you were gonna be— Which is definitely none of my business! You don’t have to tell me or—”

“I’m taking care of something for your dad.” Technically, that’s true and Bradley thinks it’s enough of an answer to satisfy you. You seem to relax at it, at the very least, nodding along slowly. “I can pick you up tomorrow morning,” he continues.

Again, you only nod. 

It’s quiet for several minutes, the two of you lost in your own thoughts. Suddenly you perk up a bit. “My movie choice still carries over to the next night, right?”

Bradley’s lips twitch up just slightly. There she is.

Bradley slows his car to a stop, fitting himself in one of the many empty parking spots on this seemingly abandoned street. He checks his phone again, just to make sure he’s got the address right. In front of him is a dingy looking dry cleaner and, though he checks twice, the peeling, white numbers stuck to the window are exactly where Razor had instructed Natasha to go in his text. Looking at the dimly lit interior, Bradley thinks that, at least, the rest of his instructions now make some sense. 

The bell on the door twinkles lightly as he enters and Bradley takes a breath. It smells like mildew and soap, a dizzying combination that pulls Bradley into a sense of unease as he takes in the rest of his surroundings. The dry cleaners is entirely empty, aside from him and an older woman standing behind the counter.

Her hair is in a thick braid, strands of gray weaving in with the desaturated black. With deep blue eyes, she seems to be looking at him just as warily—no doubt due to the late hour and his daunting stature. Her lips are set in a small, crimson red frown, waxy and matte, and her hand, that was drumming red painted nails onto the desk when he walked in, has stilled. They seem to be alone, but Bradley doesn’t let that fact comfort him. His posture remains rigid and alert.

“How can I help you, sir?”

Bradley clears his throat, hesitating for just a blink before he continues. “I’m picking up dry cleaning for Steve.”

“Oh.” The woman seems to stutter, freezing almost microscopically, before regrouping quickly. “Steve?”

“I meant to pick it up earlier, but you know San Diego traffic,” Bradley recites, hoping he doesn’t sound too unnatural. The woman is already suspicious of him. It feels like the both of them are reading off of a script, more like two actors on a stage than two people in a dry cleaner.

An almost pained smile is forced onto the woman’s face and she nods. “Of course. Let me get that for you, sir. I’ll just be a moment.”

Unease dances in the air, like electric sparks that prickle at Bradley’s skin, but he doesn’t move. If he and the woman aren’t alone, he can’t show that that would make any difference. He belongs here. He knows what he’s doing. He knows what she’s coming back with. Bradley rolls his shoulders back, letting his belief in the mantra firm.

The woman returns just as quickly as she left, her lips a thin line and her hands almost shaking. What she sets on the counter isn’t anything close to dry cleaning, but instead a brown paper bag that’s held together with a single staple. She doesn’t quite meet his eye when she hands it to him and Bradley takes it from her grip carefully. One of the overhead lights flickers.

“Have a good night, sir.”

The bell rings again as he leaves, but Bradley doesn’t look back. He gets in his Bronco, puts the bag on the passenger seat, and pulls out of the parking spot easily. He belonged there. He knows what he’s doing. He knows what she came back with. He keeps that as a fact in his head until he’s no longer in view of the dry cleaner window.

When he’s a block or so away from the building, he pulls into a city parking lot, checking his surroundings before turning off the Bronco and ripping open the paper bag. A pack of needles falls into his open palm when he empties the bag and Bradley furrows his brows. Something heavy clinks in the bottom of the bag and Bradley sets the needles down to pull out two small glass bottles, both containing equal measurements of a clear liquid.

His thumb traces over the paper label. Most of the numbers and serial codes don’t make any sense, but what does catch his eye is the dark, bold GEPHORCE printed against the front.

Bradley can only stare at the substances in his hand, holding it up so that the light of a street lamp shines through the bottle. “What the fuck?”

“Will that be all for you today, sir?” The waitress hands him his bag of food with a polite smile.

The man with the scar nods. “That’s it, doll. Thank you.” He can’t help but eye the door, he’s been itching to smoke since he ordered.

“Alright then, have a nice night!”

The man with the scar lifts his hand up in a wave of goodbye, though he doesn’t match the waitress’s pep. He knows what his night entails—sitting in his car watching as he snacks on salty fries.

He throws the food into his passenger seat with little thought—it narrowly misses his Sony camera resting on the covered leather—and paws at the back pocket of his jeans. Leaning against the frame of his car, the man with the scar fishes for a cigarette. 

“Stupid, fuckin’ brat,” he mutters, striking his lighter a few times to get a flame. With his free hand he shields the lighter from the wind, bringing the end of his cigarette to the light. “Got me watchin’ a bunch of nobodies because he got his feelings hurt. Bullshit.”

It is bullshit, the man with the scar thinks, that he’s playing hide and seek like a little kid for no reason that’s important. One more night of Knockouts and he’s going to get sick of it. And then what?

He takes a deep breath of his cigarette. “Bullshit.”

The fries he ordered are cold by the time he hides himself in the shadowy darkness blanketing the parking lot of a modest apartment complex and the juice of his burger is spotting the bag with grease—no doubt sullying the seat underneath. It’s bullshit, he thinks, but he doesn’t linger on the thought as an antimatter blue Bronco pulls into its usual parking spot.

“Hey, big, bad wolf,” the man with the scar grins, jagged pinkened skin lifting up one of his cheeks. He reaches for his Sony camera, zooming in the lens quickly to snap pictures of the tall man who exits the car. A noticeable, brown paper bag clenched in his grip. “Where’s Little Red?” The man with the scar wonders.

“Do you want trail mix? I love trail mix, but I never eat the almonds. You know, sometimes I think I should just get peanut M&Ms, but then I wouldn’t get the raisins…”

With how tired Natasha had looked when Bradley came to pick you up, he’d incorrectly assumed that maybe your social battery was low enough that going grocery shopping with you would be tolerable. It took only five minutes for Bradley to realize how wrong he was and, since then, he’s been halfheartedly listening to you ramble on about things he didn’t even know people could have an opinion about.

“—But what do you think?” You’re blinking up at him, alerting Bradley to the fact that it was time to tune back into the conversation and he shrugs.

“Trail mix is fine.”

You put a bag of it in the cart, hardly finding room between everything else you grabbed. The two of you had only come in for milk.

As if reading his mind, you giggle. “I probably got too much, huh?”

You did, you definitely did, but Bradley also kind of likes when you giggle, so maybe it was okay. And Bradley doesn’t know what it is about you, but at this point he’s accepted that you aren’t a person he’s quite capable of hating. And maybe he doesn’t want to hate you, and it’s not just because of your dad. And it’s not just because he feels guilty. So if you were anybody else, he’d roll his eyes. If you were anybody else, he wouldn’t be here at all.

Instead of saying any of that, Bradley grunts.

“Well, we shouldn’t have to go again for a while, at least.” And, again, the thought of you and him for a while should make Bradley’s skin crawl. It doesn’t.

You lead Bradley to the self checkout as he ponders. You never seem to mind the fact he isn’t talkative—most people did, even Natasha got fed up with him sometimes. But, clearly, you talked enough for the both of you. He scans each item while you bag them and you ramble on about some story that you got reminded of when you looked at one of those gossip magazines the grocery store kept by their checkout. 

You’re still talking on your way to the car and Bradley’s not entirely sure he’s following because you talk quite fast. But he has plenty of trips from the cart to the Bronco’s trunk to figure it out.

“Oh, shit!” 

A metal waste bin bounces off the asphalt, making a loud, sudden sound that has both you and Bradley looking for the source of the noise. It’s hardly a threat, Bradley deems quickly, eyes landing on the college aged boy scrambling after the rolling bin, and he moves back to start loading more groceries into the Bronco. 

It takes two trips for him to realize that you still haven’t moved, that you’ve stopped talking completely, wide eyes staring at the spot where the waste bin dropped. “Toots? You okay?” He questions wearily. 

If you’ve heard him, you don’t say so, not even acknowledging his presence as you grab one of your hands with the other. Your eyes bounce all over the parking lot, your breath increasing, and one turn of your head has your eyes catching the sunlight and Bradley can see tears wavering at your waterline.

“Hey,” he says your name, but that only seems to cause you more distress, your head shaking vigorously as your breath increases. “Hey—” He tries again, but stops himself quickly when his gaze darts down to your hands.

You’re scratching the back of your hand frantically, irritating the skin as though you’re trying to hurt yourself, but Bradley looks back at your face and you hardly seem to notice you’re doing it at all. Your nails dig in harshly, with a force that breaks skin. When Bradley notices beads of red starting to stain your nails, he snatches your hand quickly.

“Stop that. Why the hell are you doing that?” 

You still can’t hear him. Or maybe you can and you just don’t care, but Bradley’s pretty sure you’re going to pass out if you don’t start breathing properly. But you aren’t breathing properly, you’re just hyperventilating, and looking around frantically, and bleeding.

“Toots—” From behind your head, Bradley can catch an older woman and her three kids wheeling their groceries to their car. And you’d managed to get directly in their line of passage. The little girl skipping around and talking to her mom animatedly pays you absolutely no mind. She also looks like she is about to bump into you—or if she doesn’t, their cart definitely will.

You aren’t listening to him and Bradley doesn’t feel like explaining a situation to strangers he isn’t even sure of himself, so without thinking, he takes your hand he’s still holding and tugs you into his chest. You collide with him just in time to miss the little girl galloping behind you and Bradley raises his hand to the side of your head to shield you from the family as they pass. The mother must take the whole thing as some public display of affection because all she does is smile at him gently and Bradley just gives her a polite nod. 

As soon as they’re far enough away, Bradley makes the move to drop his hand and let go of you, but you’re catching it before he can, shaky fingers pushing his palm against your ear. Your other ear is pressed to his chest and Bradley watches as you squeeze your eyes closed, tears falling past your shut lids as you take choppy breaths.

Bradley moves his hand so it’s covering the entirety of your ear and you let your own hand drop. There’s too much noise for you, he realizes. He stays silent—it’s not like he even knows what to say—covering your ear with one of his hands and holding you to his chest as he watches around the parking lot for anything that looks remotely like a threat. If only to keep himself from focusing on how exactly he feels holding you against him, his index finger taps lightly in three tap successions on the back of your head.

Bradley doesn’t know how long the two of you stand like that, but his shoulders finally relax when he feels three weak taps on his chest in response.

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[valhallaas]

On My Own

listen here

pairing: bradley rooster bradshaw x female!reader

word count: 1.8k

summary: it’s a nightmare. it’s a memory. if only you could let it go. 

warnings: angst, major character death, stages of grief, mentions of pregnancy

a/n: um. i haven’t written anything in like, four months and i return with this. cool cool cool. angst isn’t my forte, so i did have this beta read. yeah. read and enjoy. would love the feedback!

“Tell me, when’s the last time someone told you they loved you?”

The question isn’t malicious. You mean no harm by it—only genuine curiosity. You’ve known Bradley Bradshaw, Rooster, since your earliest top gun days. You know everything there is to know about each other. You’re best friends, and you know that you’re both on the edge of teetering towards more.

He stares at you like a kicked puppy. Eyes wide, mouth slightly parted in surprise. Your heart hurts a little, because you know that he probably has never thought about it. Silently, you push off the kitchen counter, setting down your glass of wine. Your head tilts, taking slow steps towards him. Bradley flinches when your hand rests on his chest, fingers splayed out over his beating heart.

“Bradley,” you whisper.

“I don’t–” he can’t look at you, hands balled into fists.

“An ex-girlfriend maybe?” you say, slightly hopeful. A slight nagging feeling crawls up your spine. God, it’s been years. Please don’t let it be. “I know Phoenix gets emotional when she’s drunk, did she say it to you then?”

He shakes his head, stepping closer into you. Jesus, what did you do? You’ve never seen him like this before. It’s making you nervous. You never meant to put him on edge.

“Bradley,”

“It was my mom.” He finally whispers after a beat.

Your hand clings to his shirt, your heart breaking. It wasn’t a malicious question. You had no ill intent when you asked. Clearly you didn’t think it through, not really. The far away glaze to his eyes made you want to shove the words right back down your throat. How do you fix this? How could you fix this?

“The last person I told I love you to was you.”

You almost didn’t hear it. A frown taking up your face as your eyes meet his own. Bradley’s staring down at you, adoration slowly creeping over his face. His eyes have gone soft, something you’ve noticed they only do when he’s looking at you. Confusion sweeps over you. When the hell has he ever told you he loved you? Without a doubt you know that you’d say it back. Because you do. You love Bradley. You love him so much that it hurts sometimes.

The corner of his lips pick up, as if hearing your thoughts. “You’re always asleep, a little too drunk, or walking away.”

Why, why would he do that? Stepping closer, hands gripping his shirt, refusing to let him move an inch away from you. Your head tilts up, nose bumping against his. Is this what pushes you over the edge? A hidden confession brought to light.

“Were you afraid I wouldn’t say it back?”

“No,” he whispers, pulling you into him, body flush against his. “Wasn’t sure if I was ready–”

“–to hear someone else say it.” Bradley nods, resting his forehead against your own. “Are you ready now?”

He smiles, lips ghosting over yours. “I love you, sweet girl.”

You can’t help but smile back. You push up on your toes, lips meshing with his. A perfect fit. You melt against him. Hands trailing up his arms, over his shoulders before gipping the back of his neck. A quick taste before you’re pulling back, teeth digging into your bottom lip. Bradley’s eyes are blown wide, gaze fixed on your lips.

“I love you too, Bradley.”

His name is on the tip of your tongue. It echoes through you, a phantom pain that will always bring tears to your eyes. You’re not sure how long it’ll take before you can sleep in the middle of the bed, to touch his side. Your eyes squeeze shut, not wanting to see the perfectly made up side.

Not after the dream you had. Right, yeah. Dream. A nightmare. A memory.

It’s the first time you’ve slept in your bed, in your room. You’re facing his side, everything exactly how he left it. Half full bottle of water sitting next to a picture of his parents on the nightstand. A white hamper next to his closet, the left door barely open. You roll on to your back, eyes opening to stare up at the ceiling. I love you, sweet girl. The words roll over you, making your skin raise with gooseflesh, the hair on the back of your neck stands on end.

Fuck. Why did you think you could do this? No one else did. As if on cue, the doorbell rings, making you jump. You know you look like shit, not that it should come as a surprise to anybody. Slowly, you slink from the bed, keeping your eyes cast to the floor. You count each step, anything that’ll distract you.

It’s twenty-nine steps from your bed to the front door. You aren’t surprised when Jake and Natasha are standing there. Jake’s lips are pulled into a hard line, and Nat’s not even trying to hide her worry. Leaning back, closing the door, you check the clock hanging on the wall. 10:33 am. Swallowing, you face them, a raised brow.

“What’s–what uh, why are you here?”

“Your phone’s off.” Jake bites out, pushing past you and into the house.

You roll your eyes. “I’m not on suicide watch. I’ve been cleared.”

“Yeah, well, those fucking shrinks don’t know you like I do.”

Rubbing at your eyes, your temples, you head to the kitchen. Jake and Nat sit on either side of you. While he stares at you, annoyance gracing his features, Natasha can’t hide her worry. She picks at her cuticles, eyes flickering around the small space.

“Are you okay?” you ask her, hand pausing her fingers.

“It’s quiet here. Almost too quiet.”

You swallow thickly. You had noticed that too. No sports games playing on the television. The piano sits untouched—you refuse to look at it. It breaks your heart, because it’s only collecting dust now. You haven’t known this kind of quiet since before. You never thought there’d be an after. It’ll grow on you, you think. There is no other choice. Your hand pulls down your shirt, covering your stomach. Jake doesn’t miss the movement, eyes narrowing.

It’s been three months. You’ve been grounded for multiple reasons, despite being cleared. Penny had taken you in, nursed you back to health. It seems like everyone knows that you couldn’t be on your own. But you aren’t, not really. You’re finally comfortable with moving back into your shared space. It’s where you want to raise your child. A home that was filled with love and happiness. A home that was all you and Bradley.

“Sweetheart,” your eyes snap to Jake’s, that familiar green glistening with concern. “I made a promise. You will take care of yourself, I will force you if I have to.”

“I know.”

Your world was crumbling before your very eyes. Alarms blaring, lights flashing, smoke billowing all around. Rooster’s voice rang out in your head, giving you orders. When did you ever take orders from him—even if it was to save your life?  

“—now! This is not a dog fight you can win!”

You can hear his voice, but the words aren’t registering. Straight through one ear and out the other. Not like it matters. In only a few seconds, a blink of an eye, a gasp of your breath, Rooster is shot down.

Nothing else matters. Not even the enemy turning and firing at you.

You can’t hear anything. Not the roar of the enemy aircraft hovering over you. Not your heart beating desperately, trying to get out of the cage that is your ribs – desperate to find Bradley. Time doesn’t seem to be moving. Slowly your body comes screaming back to you. It hurts, mainly your left shoulder, but that isn’t going to fucking stop you. With every ounce of strength you have you get to your feet. Clenching your teeth to stop your scream, your helmet is pulled over your head. There’s no sign of blood, not that you believe, not that you can tell any different.

Rooster. Where the fuck is Rooster? Tilting your head up, eyes scanning the sky, you look for smoke. There it is. North. You start running. It hurts. God, it fucking hurts and you’ll pay for it later. If it saves him now though, it’s all worth it. He’s worth it.

You look like a goddamn vision running to him. His own living, breathing angel. Bradley’s gaze shifts. This isn’t right. No. No. He didn’t ever want to tell you. Scared that his love was a curse, a prophecy. It’s like he knew – he knew if he said it he’d end up following in his father’s footsteps. Bradley couldn’t do that to you.

“Bradley, Brad – look at me, baby. I got you.”

You’re ripping off everything, trying to stop the bleeding. He huffs out a garbled laugh, large hands holding on to your own. Teardrops hit your skin and you’re not sure whose they are.

“Bradley,”

There’s a faraway look in his eyes. He smiles. You know, you know. It’s the first time he’s seeing his parents in years, and you are not enough to keep him here.

Time moves quickly. Blood sticks to your skin. He stopped breathing a while ago. You aren’t leaving, you aren’t letting go. Smart pilot, he had his beacon. Is it the cold that numbs you? The silence? Or is it the secret you kept rolling like seasick butterflies in your stomach? Tearfilled eyes lift to meet familiar sea glass ones when his warm hands gently pry yours from Bradley’s. Hangman can’t hide his wince, seeing Rooster’s dog tags embedded into your palms from squeezing them so tight. Past him you see a chopper. They’ve come for you. They’ve come for the both of you.

“Salem,”

“I tried. I–I, I tried. I tried so hard, but it wasn't enough.”

The piano taunts you. Whispers your name, echoes in his voice. God, you miss his voice. Jake’s passed out on the couch, Natasha’s in the spare room. Nat stayed because Jake did. Jake stayed, well, because he cares, you guess. You don’t care about either of them at the moment. Your fingers itching to touch the keys. Natasha had mentioned earlier how quiet the house was. You hadn’t said anything, not wanting to lie.

Sinking onto the bench, your fingers hover over the keys. It’s two in the morning and you should be in bed. You are pregnant after all. But the little thing seems to find comfort here, same as you. They are their father’s child.

Softly, slowly, you plunk at the keys. Your voice is gentle, barely above a whisper. It’s etched in pain, an unrequited goodbye.

Don’t you know I’m no good for you? I’ve learned to lose, you can’t afford to Tore my shirt to stop you bleeding But nothing ever stops you leaving

The sound of floorboards creaking makes you pause. Tears spill down your cheeks at the sight of your friends watching you. They both rush you when you begin to sob. Chest aching, throat closing. You’ll be okay eventually. Because you know better than to believe that Bradley would’ve ever left you on your own.

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw smut #rooster bradshaw smut #rooster bradshaw one shot #bradley bradshaw one shot #top gun: maverick fanfic

[kittenfrostt]

May I ask for NSFW Alphabet HCs with Yoru from Valorant?

warnings ;; filthy smut 

art by @/ShkretArt on twt 

divider by @/benkeibear on tumblr

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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  𝐘𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐀𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 

∘₊✧──────────────────────✧₊∘

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Let’s be real, this man is not the best candidate when it comes to aftercare. He can sometimes be a selfish lover, and will think you can probably take care of yourself. It’s not in a mean way– he just doesn’t think he’s going to do a good job. You can ask him, and he might be a bit moody about it but he’ll help you out in any way you ask if you’re sweet about it. He just can’t resist that pretty, fucked out expression of yours. 

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B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

 His favorite body part on his own body is definitely his hair. Hes always combing through it, making sure its perfectly styled at all times. 

On you, I can definitely see him as loving either your boobs or your ass, anywhere he can bite or suck on. He wouldn’t admit it to you, but he thinks every part of you is beautiful. There are just certain parts that really get him going. 

∘₊✧──────────────────────✧₊∘

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Messy, messy boy. Likes to cum all over or inside of you with your consent of course. He likes to make a bit of a mess, eager to see your face or body dripping in his cum. It just makes you look so pretty, and its kinda one of his ways of marking you. He’ll sit and stare as it drips out of your pretty hole, opting to push it back into you, or eat you out after he cums. For girls he loves when you squirt, being doused in your arousal wakes something primal in him each time. For boys he definitely likes to see you cum all over the sheets, or his chest when he’s fucking you. Que the ‘I didn’t even have to touch it,’ With a cocky grin. 

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D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He loves to watch porn sometimes. Maybe even a naughty video or picture of you is enough to help make him cum. 

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E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

I’d say he has pretty good experience. He’s used to the casual hookup and never talking again type beat. Though he leads you on to thinking he knows more than he actually does, there’s no way he’s going to embarrass himself in front of you. He likes to keep his cocky, cool complexion like he has everything under control. 

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F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

It would probably be between doggy and cowgirl. On one end, he likes to see your face shoved into the pillow, back arched nice and pretty for him to pound into you from the back. On the other end, he likes to see you ride him with wild abandon, your body trembling from exertion above him after he’s made you ride him for long periods of time on end. He’ll have one arm behind his head, a sly grin on his features as he praises you, ‘Come on my little doll, you can keep goin. Just keep moving your hips like that,’ 

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G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

I’d say he’s more serious when it comes to intimacy. He’s not much the goofy type at all outside of sex, I don;t think it would change during. 

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H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc. )

As stated earlier, this man always make sure he’s well groomed. He keeps his hair neatly trimmed, and yes the carpet does in fact match the drapes. Though it’s more of a darker blue. 

∘₊✧──────────────────────✧₊∘

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He’s not a big passionate lover, more of a selfish, primal and rough kind of guy. At first it’s just a mission to get you and himself off, but the more you two spend time together, I believe you two will share more intimate moments together. Something deeper than just sloppy, rough sex. 

∘₊✧──────────────────────✧₊∘

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

More times than he should. He likes to do it in front of you, watching you squirm as he strokes himself to the sight of your naked body. But he does have his moments where he’ll jack off if he;s on his own, if he’s too horny to wait he’ll throw on some porn and get himself off. 

∘₊✧──────────────────────✧₊∘

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

He loves spanking, and a bit of a brat tamer. He would definitely be a fan of things such as ropes, collars, etc. Anything to make you look like his pretty little fuck doll he adores. He also more than likely has a ‘daddy’ kink, though he’d never openly admit it. Very into dom/sub relationships. Hair pulling is something he’s into, wether he’s the one receiving it, or he’s the one tugging you back to him by your roots. Add in some choking, this man believes his hand is your best necklace. Also a huge fan of orgasm denial. 

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L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Anywhere tbh. He doesn’t really have a favorite place, he’ll take you in a public bathroom if need be. This man does NOT care. 

∘₊✧──────────────────────✧₊∘

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Begging. Huge weakness for begging. It really gets him going. He also likes clinginess despite his front that he finds it annoying. When you latch onto him, it awakens something possessive in him and never ceases to get him going. Also when you touch his nipples or chest it triggers him almost instantly. 

Bratty behavior is also something he's into. He just likes the excuse you fuck it right out of you.

∘₊✧──────────────────────✧₊∘

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Not much honestly. He wouldn’t be into anything extreme, including scat or something of that sort. He’s also not a huge fan of roleplay. He’d refuse to sub for you, and it would take a lot of convincing to get him to reluctantly agree. 

∘₊✧──────────────────────✧₊∘

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He enjoys both, but his preference is definitely receiving. He could fuck your throat for hours if given the chance. He just loves to see his pretty baby gag on his cock with tears dripping down their cheeks. :( 

He’s great with his mouth and fingers, and will ensure to give you multiple orgasms when he gives you oral. 

∘₊✧──────────────────────✧₊∘

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

His usual pace is fast and rough, but sometimes he’ll slow the pace only to taunt you, have you begging him to go faster. It fuels him to no end. 

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Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Doesn’t mind them at all. Will do it anytime of the day you want to. 

∘₊✧──────────────────────✧₊∘

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

 He’s very willing to experiment, and he loves the thrill of taking risks. The thought of the two of you getting caught by another agent is something he’d love to see. The embarrassed look on your features after the matter.

∘₊✧──────────────────────✧₊∘

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

. Many, many rounds. This man travels through dimensions in his free time, he can last for long hours if need be. Very high stamina, and trust me when I tell you he will use every bit of in on his pretty little doll. 

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T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Yes absolutely. He owns toys to use on his partner and will use them when he feels like edging you or watching you fall apart beneath him, showing him just how much of a lil slut you are even without him touching you. 

∘₊✧──────────────────────✧₊∘

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Yoru is very mean, very unfair lover. He loves to edge you, punish you, you name it. One of the biggest teases ever. He finds enjoyment in it. He just likes to be in charge. 

∘₊✧──────────────────────✧₊∘

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He can sometimes loud, but it mainly limits to grunts or groans. Maybe on a very good day, he’ll give out a little whimper. Expect it to be very lowkey, and if you catch it he’ll deny it to the ends of the Earth.

∘₊✧──────────────────────✧₊∘

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Soft groans came from the male as he stared down at your kneeled figure, nose buried in his pelvis as he bullies his cock down your throat. “Look at that– taking me so well,” He’d purr out, his grip on your hair unmoving as he bobs your head up and down the length of his cock. He could hear the soft gags and squelches of your salivated mouth sucking him off, the noises like music to his ears. “Aww pretty doll, don’t tell me your crying,” He’d taunt, one of his thumbs moving to swipe a tear that fell down your soft cheeks from your throat being abused. Your vision was hazy as you gazed up with half lidded eyes, drool dripping down your chin and onto the ground as you take him deep into your throat. You whine around him, and he grunts at the vibrating sensation. His grip on your hair tightens, and the way you stare up at him has him practically throbbing. “Thats it doll– just keep looking at me just like that,” He’d groan out, face locked onto yours as the mix of his precum and saliva drip down your chin, Just the sight had him thrusting a few times into your mouth. “Letting me use that warm little throat of yours, my little cum slut,” He cooed out, forcing your head back down to take all of him in your mouth. “Show me how bad you want my cum,” He challenged you, a slight grin on his features as he felt the warm flesh of your tongue circling around his base. 

∘₊✧──────────────────────✧₊∘

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

 He’s got a pretty lean, athletic build. He isn’t super buff, but strong enough to maneuver you how he pleases.  

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Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Moderately high. This poor little horn dog, always needing relief.

∘₊✧──────────────────────✧₊∘

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He’s usually up for another hour or so before he falls asleep, and he never falls asleep before you do. He wants to exert you to the very limit, and admire his work as you sleep peacefully beside him. 

#valorant smut #valorant x reader #x reader #smut #yoru x reader #yoru smut #yoru x reader smut #yoru x you #spicy alphabet

[earthtoharlow]

Flashing Lights

14) In The Moment

Jack Harlow x Singer!OC

Series Masterlist

“Maryse Monet, are you listening to a word I’m saying?”

Maryse continued chewing on the end of her ink pen nervously. It’s been two days since she’s spoken to Jack. All she could think about was how they ended things. The longer they went without talking the worse the situation was going to get especially with them both going on tour on opposite sides of the world.

Her thoughts were broken when CoCo started snapping her fingers in her face. “Huh?”

She watched as her manager just sighed before pulling up a chair and sitting right beside her. “Alright girl, what’s going on? You’ve been staring into space for an hour now looking like a sad puppy left on the porch.”

Maryse just groaned and put her head into her arms on the table in front of them. “Do you think I prioritize work over my personal relationships?” She muttered into her arm.

“Girl, you have gotta speak up.”

She sat up looking CoCo in the eyes and repeated herself. “Do you think I prioritize work over my personal relationships? And be honest with me.”

“Yes.” Coco said quickly without hesitation, making Maryse gasp softly.

“What the hell—“

CoCo held up her hand to stop her, “Look you know I’m always going to be honest with you so listen to me alright.”

Maryse sat back in her seat with her arms around herself as CoCo continued.

“I’m going to start out by saying that you’re a very hard worker, you eat, sleep, and breathe this studio. I always know I can find you here. As a manager I love that about you…” Maryse watched as CoCo tried to gather her thoughts

“But as a friend and someone who cares about you, sometimes I think you forget that you’re allowed to have fun, not everything needs to be work work work.”

Maryse couldn’t help but stop her there. “I know I’m allowed to have fun but my career is very important to me, it could go away any second.”

CoCo let her finish before speaking again. “Your career won’t be in jeopardy if you take a break from the studio, and hang out with your boyfriend or travel to see him for a couple of days.”

She knew Maryse wasn’t going to like what she said next. “Nate has unfortunately done a number on you.” Maryse immediately narrowed her eyes at her manager. “What do you mean by that?”

“You forget that I was around when things got really bad. I remember him telling you that you’d never amount to anything in this industry, and that he would make sure of it. When you guys eventually broke up for good you threw yourself into work because you felt like music was the only thing you had, but Maryse that’s not the case anymore.”

Maryse’s eyes started watering as CoCo put everything in perspective. “You have someone who loves and supports you. This relationship won’t survive if you both don’t prioritize each other and actually open up to one another. You have to find that balance between work and your relationship. I know you said that Jack hasn’t been himself lately. You guys need to have a lengthy discussion that doesn’t involve snapping at one another.”

Maryse knew everything CoCo was saying was right, she always tried to push everything Nate put her through to the side but now it was starting to affect her current relationship. Jack didn’t deserve that all. She needed to talk to him asap.

“Thank you, CoCo.” Reaching out and giving her manager and long time friend a hug. She needed this eye opening conversation more than anything. CoCo squeezed her tight before letting go.

“Anytime, now you don’t have anything scheduled for the next couple days. Go surprise that man!” CoCo told her.

Maryse nodded before rushing out the studio to go home and pack. Once she got in her car she texted Urban letting him know she was getting the first flight to France and not to say anything to Jack.

***

Jack was having a hard day or rather a hard week. It’s been days since his argument with Maryse and they still haven't made up. The weight of the situation pressed heavily on his mind.

The longer they went without talking the harder it was to concentrate on his performances. He kept replaying the argument in his head wondering if he said too much or too little. The distance both physically and emotionally was eating at him, the ache in his chest getting worse with each passing moment.

He was in the city of love with some of his favorite people and he couldn’t even enjoy it because he wasn’t with the love of his life. An overwhelming sense of loneliness started to creep around him. He was yearning for a chance to see Maryse and hold her.

Jack knew he needed to apologize to Maryse, the weight of the negative reviews hung heavy over his head like a dark cloud. Frustration had been bubbling within him and without realizing it he let criticism seep into his interactions.

His thoughts were cut short momentarily when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He sighed in disappointment as it was just Nemo wishing him a good show and to keep his foot on necks and not let the world forget him.

Jack stood as Neelam knocked on his trailer door letting him know he was to be on stage in 15. 15 minutes suddenly felt like 5 minutes, and before he knew it he was on stage. The roar of the fans masked the turmoil within him. Music flowed from him but his only thoughts were of Maryse. Their argument still lingered casting another shadow over his performance as he tried to be as present as possible.

As Jack looked out into the sea of faces, he desperately wished that she was there. The cheers suddenly felt distant, the applause hollow as he continued yearning for the comfort of Maryse's presence.

When the crowd started singing the lyrics of Poison; a song he wrote for Maryse back at him, he found himself silently pleading for a chance to make amends. In that moment the spotlight felt more isolated than ever, even the cheers couldn’t distract him from wanting to seek forgiveness.

Jack almost felt bad for ending his set a few minutes early but he needed to get back to his hotel room. As he stepped off stage the adrenaline was still running through his veins. Lost in his thoughts he was taken aback when he turned the corner and found Maryse standing there, a hopeful look in her eyes. A mix of surprise and relief washed over him as the noise from the crowd faded into the background as they continued to stare at each other.

“I couldn’t spend another day without talking to you.” Maryse admitted, a small smile playing on her lips. Jack walked closer to her, almost not believing she was standing there in front of him. He felt speechless as he opened his mouth to figure out what to say. All he could do was pull her into a tight hug, daring anyone to pull them apart.

“I missed you.” Maryse whispered into his chest, her voice mixed with sincerity and longing. Jack hugged her tighter, the warmth of her presence eased his mind as he was plugged with his thoughts the whole performance. “I missed you more.” He admitted almost desperately. He needed her to know that he missed her more than anything.

Jack couldn’t stop himself as he pulled her into a kiss, he didn’t care that they were still standing backstage with people around. This kiss was a silent promise to set aside the argument for the time being. Breaking away, Maryse gave him another small smile. “Let’s talk after you’ve showered, okay? I just want to be with you right now.” Jack nodded as he held her hand as they headed back to his trailer to grab his things and make their way to his hotel room.

When they got back to the hotel room, Jack immediately hopped in the shower promising not to take long. Maryse got comfortable taking off her shoes and jacket while she waited for him. She was nervous to have this conversation scared it would turn into another disagreement.

As promised Jack was out of the shower soon and sat next to Maryse on the bed. It was silent for a moment before Maryse spoke first. “I want you to know how sorry I am.” She began, sounding genuinely regretful.

Jack sat and listened. “Sometimes, it feels like you prioritize your career over us.” He admitted, his vulnerability laying bare. Maryse took a deep breath and grabbed his hand gently, “I never want you to feel that way. My career matters, but so do you. I’ll work on finding a better balance.”

Wanting to apologize for his behavior he opened up to Maryse as well. “This is all so different to me. I’m not used to dating someone who’s just as busy as I am. In the past, it was easier – plans could change on the fly. But with our schedules, it’s challenging.”

Maryse listened, already sensing he was mentally struggling trying to figure out how they were going to balance work and their relationship. “I get it, we’re going to figure it out, okay. We can find a middle ground.”

Jack nodded, already feeling a lot better after talking it over with her. He already felt lighter, but he knew there was one more thing he needed to apologize for. They were cuddling in bed now, “I owe you an apology.” He began, remorse in his eyes. “Before our argument, I had been distant and that wasn’t fair to you.”

He watched as she nodded. “I understand, but can you help me understand why?”

Jack glanced at her, contemplating whether to open up. Now was the perfect time and yet, the words seemed locked behind a wall of pride. The desire to shield her from his struggles battled with the need for support. He didn’t want to share the weight of the criticism of his album onto her, the pressure to maintain a facade of strength held him back.

He hesitated before talking again, “It’s been a crazy few months with appearances after appearances and I let it affect us. I’m sorry for not communicating that sooner and pulling away.”

Maryse appreciated the apology but couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to the story. Choosing to be patient, she decided to ignore the subtle signs for now, hoping that in time he would feel comfortable enough to open up and share the feelings he was holding back.

After the heartfelt apologies they decided to break free from each others arms and explore Paris as it was now dark outside. They walked the streets catching up while indulging in greasy fast food at a corner bistro, sharing fries with one another. The laughter they shared replaced the tension that had been created over the last couple weeks. Their eyes met, exchanging a silent acknowledgment that the storm had passed.

Making their way to the Eiffel Tower, Jack couldn’t help but marvel at the breathtaking sight. Almost captivated by the glow surrounding her, it was like Maryse outshone everything. A smile spread across his face as he gazed at her, realizing just how fortunate he was to have her by his side.

Unable to contain his emotions, he gently cupped Maryse’s face and gave her a lingering kiss beneath the sparking lights. “No matter what happens, I want you to know that I will always love you.” Jack whispered, a promise that they could get through anything. Maryse shared the sentiment by pulling him into another kiss.

Pulling away she tugged on his arm as they walked closer to Eiffel Tower. “Babe, you have to take photos of me in front of it!” Maryse practically begged. All he could do was chuckle back, enjoying her enthusiasm and took out his phone. After he snapped a couple shots, Maryse smiled down impressed.

“Watch out, Urban Wyatt! You should quit being a rapper and become a photographer!” She teases, a playful glint in her eyes.

“Nothing I want more than to get paid to just take pictures of how beautiful you are.” Maryse as always couldn’t help but playfully gag and cringe. Jack grinned, enjoying her reaction. He missed this.

With a mischievous grin, he swept her off her feet and lifted her over his shoulders, playfully spinning her around. Maryse squealed in surprise, laughter bubbling up as she wrapped her arms around his neck. They ignored the bemused looks from strangers as they enjoyed their night, happy to be spending time together again.

JACKHARLOW

liked by urbanwyatt, lifeofmonet, dojacat, yungskylark, saweetie, cozane, thomaschristmas, and 678,568 others

jackharlow: Trying to compete with the Eiffel Tower in the ‘Who Shines Brighter’ contest. Spoiler alert: she wins every time.

view all 9,567 comments

user: oh to have Jack Harlow be in love with me

user: please tell me y’all are looking for a third

urbanwyatt: mom & dad 🥹

user: this post just told me how single I was in 30 different languages

user: adopt me

user: this post murdered me and dragged me all over slaycity with how much it served

lifeofmonet: just developed lactose intolerance from how cheesy this was 🧀

***

AN: rewrote the ending so many times before deciding to make our bbs happy but I wonder how long this will last 🤫 as always let me know your thoughts 💋

Tag List:

(message me if you'd like to be added or removed)

@heavyhitterheaux @hoodharlow @neon-lights-and-glitter @babiefries @bout-mine @mace23477 @snows-blog-of-fiction @dstark-0706 @harlowsbby @itsyagirljaz @leftapricotprofessorlover @comehomeimissyou@minkookie95@harlowcomehome @jackharloww@jaydaaasworld@xxkoolkatxx @kkrenae @hufflewhore128 @w1ldthoughts @jackiehollanderr @katiaw2 @halfmoondaze @babybardi2@vinniehackersbaee

#jack harlow #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x y/n #jack harlow reader #social media au #jack harlow x oc #jack harlow x black reader #flashing lights

[rachelsfav-queer]

I wanna see some fluff with wenclair

Like, one totally normal day, the two girls are hanging out in their dorm together. Enid’s got a little setup so she can play Minecraft on her PlayStation (superior console duh) on a good sized tv. Meanwhile, Wednesday’s trying to write but she’s hopelessly distracted by her girlfriend in the background. Not that Enid’s doing anything actually distracting, it’s her simply existing and being herself that has captured the seer’s attention.

For a moment, Wednesday turns in her chair to watch Enid playing, the werewolf too enveloped in playing to notice her, or so Wednesday believes. After a few minutes of longing staring, Enid chirps, “Hey Willa! You wanna join?” without turning back to the raven.

Wednesday blushes lightly at being caught, but quickly replies, “I have absolutely zero interest in playing this childish game, Enid,” despite having played it multiple times before, sometimes even without Enid.

Enid hums at her girlfriend’s defensive response and says, “Oh, okay! Do you wanna watch me play, then? You can sit on my lap!” Enid sings in an enticing tone. She knows very well her girlfriend’s weak spot for sitting in her lap and being held by her.

Wednesday barely tries to hide her excitement at the opportunity to sit in Enid’s lap. Although she definitely could do it whenever she wants, Enid has said so multiple times, Wednesday is still not great with affection. She still struggles a bit with asking for what she wants and needs. But whenever Enid offers up affection, Wednesday doesn’t let any opportunity go to waste. So Wednesday goes to sit on Enid’s lap, snuggling up close to her taller girlfriend.

Enid wraps her arms tightly around Wednesday, tight enough that to anyone else, they’d feel like they were suffocating. But Wednesday adores the pressure and revels in the feeling of Enid surrounding her. It’s perfect, it’s everything she ever wants.

Wednesday pays close attention to what Enid’s doing in the game for a while, but eventually grows bored. So instead, she shifts herself a bit so she can curl up against Enid’s front, making her seem even smaller than she already is. Grabbing Enid’s loose, bright pink shirt, Wednesday slowly closes her eyes and just lets herself relax. Enid continues holding her tight and Wednesday knows that nothing can harm her here.

She knows that there’s no Hyde, no ancient, racist pilgrim, nor any backstabbing traitorous teacher that can touch her here. And none of the cruel hearted words that everyone spits in her direction outside the dorm matter here. People who will never understand her, who will never even try, they mean nothing and their harmful words can’t bother Wednesday now.

Wednesday is safe in Enid’s arms and that’s the one thing she’s been missing for all her life. She’s not felt truly safe in years. But now, she is. Wednesday is finally, finally safe and it’s all because of Enid. Enid, who swore on that terrible night that no one would hurt Wednesday ever again. Enid, who’s known Wednesday inside and out for almost the entire time they’ve known each other. Enid, Wednesday’s protector.

Wednesday easily falls asleep all cuddled up against her girlfriend, nothing to fear and no reason to keep alert for any threats. She sleeps soundly, just as she always does whenever sleeping next to Enid. She knows that Enid will keep her safe, she doesn’t need to keep herself safe anymore. Wednesday is well protected now.

Before she drifts off to slumber, Wednesday hears only one thing, the voice of her favorite person in the world. She hears Enid whisper with love and adoration dripping in her tone,

“Que duermas bien, mi pequeña luna. Te amo bebé.”

End <3

#wenclair #wenclair fluff #my writing #wednesday addams #enid sinclair #wednesday x enid #netflix wednesday #wednesday 2022

[xtransmasc-reader-scenariosx]

Long Term Love with Azumane Asahi

Pairing: Azumane Asahi/Trans Male reader Warnings: Mentions of Dysphoria, references to sex Summary: Despite growing up together, despite dating since before middle school started, despite everything really, sometimes how much Azumane loves you still catches you off guard.

You've spent your whole life with Asahi, or at least all of it that your remember, he's been your next door neighbor since elementary school and your boyfriend since the summer of your fifth year. Every major milestone has been spent together. Everything that there is to feel with another person has been felt, and still, despite it all, Asahi still sweeps you off your feet. Often without meaning to. He's always been bigger than you, and when you first met him it was terrifying. You thought he was older than you, and like most older kids, was going to terrorize you, but he didn't. And once you found the bravery to stop hiding behind your mother and talk with him things changed. You learned he was in your grade, although not your class, and you went to the same school. He sought you out after that. He'd never met someone with so many things different from him and he found you interesting. You balanced each other out, his calm and quiet eased your rough and tumble tendencies. Listening as you shouted your way through arguments you could have won if he hadn't pulled you away, letting you get the anger out before finishing your walk home.

You like to think you were the one that fell first, Asahi will argue this point until he's blue in the face, but privately, you're certain. It was when you were finally sure of yourself, when you knew you were a boy not a girl. When after months of fearing what he would say you bit the bullet and brought it up. He was confused and after a lengthy explanation on your end he only smiled. "It... I'm glad you told me, but it doesn't change things between us. I'll be by your side as long as you'll have me Y/N, that's what friends are for." He put an arm over your shoulder keeping you close, "And now we can get you on the boys team for real." You couldn't help the laugh that escaped you at that, because of course that would be his main concern, "I am perfectly content watching from the bleachers thanks."

Asahi is the one that confessed first, and even then it was more of him stating a thought than revealing anything. It just came out and it felt like the world froze for a moment. You could still remember what you were doing at the time. You were both in Asahi's room going over the pros and cons of different high schools and you had made a comment about how you could pull off the Karasuno boy's uniform and probably pass in it and how nice it would be to finally just be seen as you were without having to explain things. "You know you'd look good in anything right? You don't have to say you like the uniform just because I wanna go to school there. I would still love you just as much even if we went to different schools." He didn't look up from his brochure until after you'd been staring at him for quite a while. It was only after he caught your eye that he seemed to realize what he said. "You love me?" You echo, and he nods too embarrassed to speak and you grinned, "Oh thank god, because I've had a massive crush on you since middle school." He goes red and just laughs. Things don't change too much after that since you and Asahi where already pretty free with your affections.

It's your third year and Asahi has finally rejoined the team and you were back to sitting in the bleachers as you watched practice instead of avoiding the building all together. It was nice, even if the first years were a bit much. After they'd interrogated Asahi they had moved onto you. What position do you play? I don't. Then why are you here? To support my boyfriend, and the rest of the team. Why haven't we seen you around before? Because Asa just came back. It went on and on until the warm up whistle, and without a second thought Asahi kissed the top of your head and jogged off to meet the rest of the team. And you just stood there a little uselessly for a moment, overwhelmed with affection. Then its finals season and you can't remember the last time you slept. You had to study, you had to make sure Asahi studied because you were pretty sure Takeda wasn't kidding about barring anyone with failing marks from the away games and that would break Asahi all over again and you just got him back. And then there is a cup of green tea where your studying materials had just been. It snaps you back to yourself and you look up to see Asahi standing beside your desk with a smile. "Let's have some tea, stretch a little, and then come back to this." You agree, even though you know what is going to happen after you stretch is definitely not going to be studying, and sleep will follow soon after, and tomorrow you'll try again with similar results. Finals will go fine as they always do.

Then, they're standing on the top of the world and you couldn't be prouder. The bubble bursts of course when a reckless reporter refers to you as Asahi's girlfriend. It hasn't happened in years, but the offhand remark already has your skin feeling too tight. Everyone that needs to know does, and Asa had corrected the reporter with surprising sternness, but the damage had been done. But before you can retreat too far, there is Asahi. Bent to your level with a serious expression. "Don't mind her." He says, and you almost snap about how it's not that easy, "It's hard I know. But i am with you and I will remind you how ever many times it takes that you are the boy i have loved my whole life."

#hq imagines #hq x reader #haikyuu #my writing #x trans male reader #x transmasc reader #azumane asahi #Asahi Azumane #asahi x reader #asahi x male reader #xtransmasc-reader-scenariosx

[sfsolstice]

✧ regret fem!reader x tsukishima kei . . . a/n: slight angst ?

“Do you remember what you told me back then?”

Kei glanced towards the girl next to him, who suddenly sat up as they laid in the grass together. The sun was setting, painting the sky a myriad of warm colors that began to fade into the unknown. He did his best to feign disinterest— it was an old habit he could never kick— but in reality, he was staring at one of the most important people that ever burst into his life— violently, suddenly, in a whirlwind of a hurricane that left everything he had known in a wreck. She tore his life apart, but she built it back up, letting him see the world in a way he never could have alone.

“Back when we started high school?”

He didn’t have the faintest memory. In fact, for someone who he credits for changing him for the better, he couldn’t remember when they first met very well, as if they really had known each other forever. He gave a curt, “Not really…”

She was looking out, watching the flocks of birds that flew across the sky, watching the clouds creep ever so slowly to wherever the wind would take them. But her eyes held a deep despair. Kei was always so good at reading people. It was how he could rile up Shoyo and Tobio without fail. It was how, on the court, he never let a spike get past him the second time. It was how he knew when something was bothering her each time. In that moment, he could see the regret she felt before she even opened her mouth.

“It surprised me when you said it. I mean, it surprised everyone when they heard it, since you’re always so sarcastic all the time…”

He couldn’t deny that, that he could be a little too snide sometimes.

“You told me that I should do everything I wanted. To live without regret. To not mind the people around me, to just focus on myself, that what they were doing didn’t mean I wasn’t doing anything…” Her voice began to falter. The hands she had buried in the blades of grass began to grip them hard, as she did her best to not let her voice break anymore than it had already. She pulled the grass she had in her hands out of the ground, throwing them in front of her as violently as she could. She was gritting her teeth, biting back the sting of tears in her eyes.

“Kei… I…” She started.

It had been years since they saw each other. She left Karasuno after their first year. Now, the both of them were in university. He sat up as soon as he could hear her begin to sniffle. Kei placed his hand softly atop a balled fist she now rested in her lap. If he did anything more, he knew he wouldn’t be able to hide his tears either.

“There’s so much I wish I did… So much I wish I didn’t do…” Her voice began to quiet as her head fell. Kei felt the sharpness of her angry tears drip onto the back of his hand. He wrapped it around hers.

“Kei, I-I…” She gasped for breath. “I regret so much.”

This scene was all too familiar. It reminded him of memories that left his mouth dry and bittersweet. There were plenty of times, he remembered, where he would see her like this, and every time, it hurt him more than the last. This time was no different. His heart ached to see her cry, to hear her voice crack, to sit idly by as he just watched, because there was so little that he could actually do to mend her broken heart.

Her sobs grew more unrestrained, bringing her sleeves up to her face to wipe away the onslaught of tears. But all they did was keep coming. She grabbed onto Kei, burying her face in his shoulder, as she bawled, howled, cried out every horrible thing she kept inside her. All he could do was hold her in his arms and hold her tighter.

The sun continued to set, the clouds kept inching their way across the sky, the birds had long left. Her pain seemed immeasurable, but even so, Kei continued to hold her, continued to let her scream, continued to let her soak his shirt in her tears. He knew nothing he could say would resolve her endless amount of regrets. So this was all he could do for her— be there for here, support her, connect. He felt powerless. For the first time in a long time, he felt defeated. There was nothing he could do. This was all he could do.

#tsukishima kei x reader #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei #haikyuu #a vent fic from 2020 lmao #when i literally didn't know what i was doing with my life dshjga #ended up just taking it out on tsukki bc hes been my comfort character since like 2015 #sfsolstice

[matthewloverr]

The Book P3

matt x maysen drew (femreader)

part three | part one | part two

summary: when watching the people you love destroy themselves and choose money and fame over you, you found someone else to love.

warnings: swearing, smoking (weed, cigarettes) angst, mention of substance abuse/ addiction, mentions of abuse, angst, some mentions of starving

a/n: again this chapter is pretty heavy so please read at your own risk and take care of yourself i love you and enjoy !

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

i stare at him blankly, did he really just say that, did those words come out of his mouth?? no i must’ve heard him wrong.

“masyn?” he says staring at me concern written all over his face.

“what do you mean matt” my voice cracking as i struggled to hold back my tears.

he takes a deep breath.

“that night i was gonna surprise you and show up at your house to hangout, i heard noises from the house so i parked down the street and turned my lights off, your dad sped out of there so fast he didn’t notice me”

i felt my heart go up in my throat. matt was fucking there, matt knew something had happened and never said anything.

anger pumped through my veins, im not sure why but my mind couldn’t focus on that.

i just stared at him with tears brimming in my eyes before i ran my tongue along my teeth.

“take me home” i said deadpanning out the window.

“what”

“i said, take me the fuck home”

“mays please” he pleaded begging me to look at him.

“ill fucking walk”

with that he threw the car in drive and out we went, the car ride was silent but there was so much tension. the tears just fell from my eyes and wouldn’t stop.

we reached my house and i just waiting until he left, that’s when i grabbed my own car and went to who i thought the only other person who knew, my best friend since we i was 3 and she was 5 celeste.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

i reached celeste’s house and as i walked up to the door i called her to let her know i was here.

“c-cel” you could tell by my voice that i had been crying.

“masyn? where are you?” she replied with a concerned tone.

“im outside can you let me in please”

with that i heard some shuffling through the phone and then the door unlocked and she opened it.

celeste’s pov:

i opened the door to the girl i had seen basically everyday since we were kids, she practically lived at my house. i knew the girl way too much to know that something was seriously wrong.

there she stood, on my porch, tears streaming down her face and this look like the life had been pulled out of her.

she immediately wrapped her arms around me and started sobbing. me and masyn were sisters at this point and we had maybe hugged twice in the years we’ve known each other.

i felt like i had been stabbed in the chest seeing her like this.

masyn’s pov:

i held my best friend so close i don’t even think she could breathe, i appreciated her so much for just knowing something was wrong and not turning me away.

celeste was there for everything, when my moms book blew up, when i found out she was using again, when my dad lost all our money and the night he left.

matt knew most things but the one person who would be there and listen everytime no matter what was celeste.

and i was there for her although she was a very quiet person, i would be worried at times thinking that she didn’t trust me but overtime i just learned she wasn’t a person that talked about their feelings.

and most of all i loved our friendship so much because even when we argue or just don’t talk for a bit because the world gets too hectic, we always come back together.

i loved celeste with everything in me, we never showed our affection but sometimes i just wish i could scream at her and tell her how grateful i am that she is here and how much i love her.

we walked up to her bedroom and i immediately sat on my specific spot on her bed, we just sat in silence and she gave me a minute to calm down.

“he was there cel” the words coming out of my mouth without me even registering it.

“who was there, and where?” she replied slightly grabbing my hand.

“matt, he was there the night my dad left”

i tilted my head to look at her and i watched as her face went blank.

“what do you mean he was there? did he tell anyone?” her words spat out faster than i could comprehend.

“he was outside waiting for me so we could hangout, i had no idea”

“he didn’t know the entire story but after i explained he told me and i just told him to bring me home”

we sat in silence for a bit before my thoughts cleared and then i remembered.

“oh and my dad is home”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

it had been two days since i spoke to matt, to be honest it was horrible i wanted to just text him and hangout.

that night i snuck in through my window to avoid any confrontation from my dad but with that i also never left my room.

i hadn’t eaten in two days.

i had managed to pull myself out of my bed and stared at the reflection in the mirror.

my hair was messy, i was wearing a shirt that was ten sizes too big and black shorts.

the thought of my parents barging in my room kept me up at night so there wasn’t much sleep either, and you could tell by the deep bags underneath my eyes.

i grabbed the hairbrush off my dress and attempted to brush my hair, ten minutes had gone by and a chunk of my hair was ripped out but it finally looked decent.

i immediately went to the shower and turned it on taking off the clothes that had been on my body for far too long.

i stepped in the shower feeling the warm water hit my skin, i couldn’t even think straight like what the actual hell was happening.

i hoped out and quickly washed my face, brushed my teeth and threw on a pair of grey sweats and a black tank.

here goes nothing.

i grabbed the door handle to my door and thought of everything that could go wrong in the next two seconds, i felt sick just thinking about it.

i twisted the knob and off i went, the smell of breakfast hit my nose and my stomach started grumbling immediately.

i walked down my stairs and went to the kitchen. there he was, my father sat at the dining table tapping away on his phone while sipping on a coffee.

he looked up at me and smiled from ear to ear.

it was so fucking fake.

“good of you to join us” he says while sipping his coffee.

my mother whips her head around and spots me and i almost fall to my knees. her skin was so pale and her eyes were puffed up like she had been crying.

she stared at me with a scared expression but quickly changed it to a weak smile.

“good morning hunny, where have you been?” she says as she focuses on flipping pancakes in the pan she’s holding.

“celestes” i say lying through my teeth. i didn’t want then knowing i was home this whole time.

“not excited to see your father” my dad says finally peeling his eyes away from his phone.

“no” i say blatantly as i grab a peice of bread throwing it in the toaster not daring to look him in the eye.

“that’s no way to speak to me” he says anger starting to build in his tone.

the words running down my spine making me freeze.

“sorry” i reply with my head down.

i glanced up at him and he stared at me, like right into my soul i couldn’t do it anymore so i ran up stairs completely forgetting about the toast i had just made.

i shut my door behind me and lean my back up against it, i slid down and pulled my knees to my chest and i noticed my heart was racing.

i couldn’t stay here, i whipped out my phone and clicked on the last contact i had texted. matt.

“are you free right now?”

“on the way.”

a/n: sorry if this parts a bit boring idk, anyways love yaz and see you at the next part😉

#matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fanfic #matthew bernard sturniolo #matt x reader #matt fanfic #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x you #christopher owen sturniolo #chris sturniolo x y/n #chris sturniolo x reader #chris x reader #chris smut #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #nicolas antonio sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #matt smut #sturniolo #colby brock #colby smut #colby x reader #sam goldbach smut #sam golbach

[akutasoda]

Can I request chrollo x fem reader where like chrollo and the troupe go to a club to celebrate a successful heist and readers like one of the main girls dancing and then after her performance she gets called up by this guy who’s obviously a creep. Kinda like the Copacabana if you’ve ever listened to that song and then chrollo helps the distressed girl by personally threatening the creepy man

to protect a performer

synopsis - chrollo see's a creep harrasing one of the performers

includes - chrollo

warnings - fem!reader, reader is a showgirl, creepy guy, slight injury, fluff, staring???, harrasment?, wc - 1.5k

if the phantom troupe were known for one thing it would be their heists. they were always successful mainly because they were more than happy to reaort to any means to pull them off, they were criminals after all. this success and confidence always only served to push chrollo to perform more and more daring heists - each payed off and it became a cycle, he would always have a growing confidence in his strategies.

recently he had planned out one of his most complex and risky heists yet. he had no hesitation in any point of it by the time he finally presented it to the rest of the troupe and they all were happy to go along with their leaders plan. to nobody's surprise, the plan went off without a hitch. sometimes it seemed like chrollo could plan for everything as every point in his strategy happened in perfect succession whichh lead to another perfect heist.

chrollo cared deeply for each and every troupe member and understood that keeping them happy would make him happy. since it was quite possibly their most daring heist yet, chrollo wanted to show some form of appreciation for the capabilities his group possessed. he eventually settled on taking them to quite a high profile club - it was a risk in itself as someone may recognise them but he had the confidence to know that they wouldn't be caught and so he went with the idea. mainly as he came to learn that quite a popular group of showgirls would be performing at the same time and so he doubted most of the attention would be on them.

it was meant to be a celebration and so chrollo didn't mind that he would be spending quite the costly amount, their recent heist more than made up for it. it would seem that because of the group performing at the club the same night, prices for anything at the club were much higher than usual - it was obvious it was the club's way of profiting more and more from others.

chrollo himself wasn't exactly the most outgoing or 'club' type. he spent most of the time sat inside the booth he booked for the group as he watched the others. the booth was lined with rather nice leather which surrounded a rather extravagant table and it had a perfect view of the stage. the club's atmosphere was practically buzzing up until the point the curtains on the stage lifted and most changed to cheer an applaud the group of girls on stage.

you and a couple of friends and their friends had once made the decision to form a group. you all had a similar interest in dancing and such, so you all were rather ecstatic when your group would be allowed to perform on stages in clubs and a few small theatres. each and every one of you shared the same passion which made it very easy to perfectly come up with routines and get enough practice in and it all seemed to pay off when bigger clubs and theatres started approaching you instead.

this by far would be your groups biggest performance yet. the other smaller performances obviously gained enough traction and popularity to become appealing to other places that would now happily pay your group good money to perform. the group's performances also started gaining popularity in general, with more and more people learning about the group which lead to a quick growth in following.

to say each of you was nervous would be an understatement. you all had been informed of the amount of people in the club at the time and it was by far the biggest crowd. your group spent hours toiling over outfits, practice and more practice but standing behind the curtain right before it was due to raise made all those hours seem pointless. but you'd be dammned if your nerves got you to ruined this grand opportunity for all of you.

chrollo didn't really care all that much for performances, he didn't really care that there would be a performance the night his group visited if anything he wondered if any of his members enjoyed such performances. he didn't expect to be so mesmerized. from the moment the group starrted performing his eyes drifted up from his drink to you, one of the girl's at the front leading.

he had never seen someone move with so much energy and passion yet seeming so weirdly elegant. he didn't want to seem like a creep but he just couldn't help but stare as you performed - while he could agree that your entire group was incredibly talented but you really couldn't help but unknowingly mesmerize him. he was one of first to applaud when you finished.

the group soon left to go off stage and since the club was still technically paying your group to stay longer as you're performance finished slightly early, you and the rest of the girls decided to spend the time in the club. right as you walked out back into the club you immediately heard someone whistle you over, you looked over to confirm the man was asking for you and you hesitantly went over. you didn't like the sense of dread that encompassed you aa ypu walked over but didn't want to be rude as maybe he just had a question.

chrollo watched as you hesitantly walked you're way over to the man, he could immediately tell two things - one, the guy was obviously a bit of a creep and two, you were trying to be polite. he was just out of earshot of the conversation but he could clearly tell the man was an absolute creep. the man who you tried convincing yourself was just wanting to ask a question, turned out to be a creep but now you didn't see a way out of your situation and deeply regretted not listening to your gut.

you're eyes frantically darted across the club hoping to catch someone's eye, somebody that could help you. chrollo caught your eye as he noticed how shaky you were getting and once you realised he was looking you tired to subtly hint that you needed help. but because you weren't looking at the man, he was starting to get annoyed and you didn't see him reaching out to grab you.

you blinked once and before you knew it the man you caught eyes with was now stood right beside you. when you turned back to the man you noticed that the man you caught eyes with was now holding the creep's hand that tried gravbing you in a clearly bruising grip. you knew this shouldn't be the time to be taking in the appearance of your saviour but you couldn't help but stare at some lf his odder features, such as the bright red mark on his head.

you practically gasped as you heard a sickening crack that caused the creep to cry out and catch the attention of some near by customers. you couldn't hear what the raven haired man said to the creep but you watched as he leaned forward and whispered something to the man that made his face drop. chrollo soon released the man who immediately grabbed his stuff, cradled his wrist and rushed to leave as fast as he possibly could.

what probably disturbed you the most was the fact that your helper looked absolutely calm as anything. you nervously coughed out a thank you as you were slightly shaken but luckily he seemed to fully grasp the gratitude you wanted to show. it wasn't long before a few of your group members rushed over to your side as they explained how they were so distracted and you told them it was fine because he helped you.

chrollo returned to his booth and your friends whisked you away backstage to calm down. you would later make a quick stop at chrollo's booth before you left to properly thank him. a few members that were sat there looked awkwardly away as they didn't quite know what to do but chrollo didn't mind and stood up and offered to walk you back to your friends who were only waiting outside. on the very short walk you insisted he didn't have to make such a meaningless journey but he assured you that he only wanted to make sure you stayed safe.

you also managed to pry his name out of him on the walk, telling him you would like to know the name of the man who helped you and in turn you told him yours. you parted ways with a bright smile to the man you now knew as chrollo before running to your friends. the day after, you would come to hear of a missing person that was last seen sprinting out of the club around the same time that creep did but you brushed it off as coincidence. the phantom troupe would also come to learn that chrollo liked taking them out to club's and theatre's no matter how high profile, and for some reason they always coincided with your group's performances to which chrollo would talk to you afterward.

#x reader #x fem!reader #x female reader #x fem reader #hxh x reader #hxh x you #hunter x hunter x reader #hunter x hunter chrollo #hxh chrollo #chrollo x reader

[ask-serendipity-sky]

https://www.taipeitimes.com/News/feat/archives/2012/05/19/2003533178

This is an article from 2012 where they talk about the relationship between gays and Disneyland. I accidentally came across this article and thought a lot about jikook. I don't know whether they were aware of these back then but whatever it is it was a bold movement from jeon kid to do this. And the mickey mouse hat jimin wore . Everything that they made in 2017 have meanings and they meant it too. Only the brainless trashcookers can't see it or admit it. I've seen ex-trashcooker saying that they haven't seen gcf tokyo yet. WHY? They ofcourse know it is GCF jimin ft tokyo whereas their fav has not got any as such but they're still arguing that it was actually planned with their fav and change due to some reason as if trashcookers were the ones who charted their schedules haha.

I sometimes wonder what might have happened in Tokyo but we will never know. These days things are getting complicated both for jimin and jungkook. I wonder what might be their motive to choose Disneyland as their destination place for their first trip. I'm still screaming at the thought they stayed at the hotel where the bedroom and bathroom were separated only by a transparent window. Jimin could see jungkook shower for 50 minutes through the transparent window? Wow I'm kidding but not really. The age they visited Tokyo alone is such a crucial one here. Both might be at the peak of curiosity and they are jikook lol I'll shut up now.

Now coming into jimin who is not so into amusement park rides according to him ( who would waste money on things like this + too scared lol me too yes i'm jimin's girl ) decided to get on that coffee mug ride? Are you serious!? YES! And that's how we got the most beautiful jimin smile through jungkook's eye. What we see in golden closet film Tokyo is jimin through jungkook's eye.

At the very 1st thought jungkook is the same age as jimin's brother and jimin's is the same age of jungkook's brother but nah ! I have eyes ofcourse. I didnt get any brotherly vibes. Of course they care about eo. The way jimin caresses junkookie's head or pat his head like an elder brother. But I don't wanna bring that ear sucking moment here. We had enough and that's louder than anything. I'd like to nominate the tummy caressing part by jk.mp4 lol. Jimin didn't even flinched like he is so used to those hands. They hiding at the corner at a big party ( jitb we spotted the couples ), staring at the lips while talking, jimin gesturing to keep shut when they were asked about the comfort thing that they depend on wow that was sus , and pulling him close behind yoongi?

Whatever I'm ending my rants here. I just wanted some place to rant that JIKOOK IS REAL AND MORE THAN FRIENDS OR WHATEVER. THEIR BOND IS UNBREAKABLE.

And they have done things and hinted as many things. Only blinds can't see it. That's their issue not ours. And to those who haven't seen gcf tokyo youre missing a masterplan video for how to impress your crush that's it.

thankyou 💜💛

Hi anon,

Your ask is beautiful. I love it.

It makes me wonder of all the times that jikook referenced their trip after they came back. They were smitten by each other!

Shy and sweet and even when talking about it, they would ignore the rest of the world around them.

And now they are in Japan again. History likes to repeat itself. Will they have a glass shower again?

What happened in Disneyland?!

With or without Disneyland (will they go to Disneyland?), them deciding on a project together (omg. this is a subunit created by jikook) and making it so they would work, travel, have fun, and spend time and end in Japan is a bold move.

We will see what comes out of this and if they end up in Disneyland again, I fear we might not make it through.

But yeah, "jikook is more than friends or whatever"...lol

Thank you for sharing your thoughts.

#jikook

[brandnewhuman]

Can I request the slashers with an s/o who are obsessed with cats? Like they have almost a million rescues with them or at home. All the clothing they wear is cat themed, everything is cat themed. Cats ヽ(=^･ω･^=)丿

SLASHERS WITH THEIR

S/O OBSESSED WITH CATS

CONTENT:

Michael Myers - Vincent Sinclair - Bo Sinclair - Jason Voorhees -

Tw: none? Maybe just canon violence, you never know if Michael ends up being more unhinged than usual

A/n: there's something so funny to me in forcing this menaces of men to put up with this type of things. Anyway, thanks for the request and I hope you enjoy it ^^ I basically picked the slashers with who you would be able to have many cats around without risking the victims hurting them

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

MICHAEL MYERS:

Bro almost stomped one of your cats when he broke into your house to kill you first time you met

In Michael's defence your cat was in the way

 your cat started making weird demon noises when Michael picked him up by the scruff 

Congratulations, you have adopted an unhinged stabby bastard to add to your collection of strays

Michael is surprisingly accepting of having cats around

That's until they scratch him. 

They will get thrown in the trash can and if you bring them inside again Michael could and will get offended 

What do you mean she didn't mean to? To him it seemed very much on purpose y/n 

You might find him sometimes laying on the couch stiff as a fucking tree  with your cats all over him. 

He's not even sleeping, he's just chilling and regretting his life decisions 

When he comes home late after doing his job he will take his time to pet every cat

Will spy you to see where you keep their treats 

So if you see your babies a little bit more chonky than usual is Michael's fault

He's basically a cat himself so after the initial shock of having around so many of them he will eventually get used to it

When he notice that you seemed to like cat themed things too he would bring anything he finds that he deems cat related 

What now, Michael has given you literally just a black rock? Y/N, silly little thing, he's Michael Myers. He doesn't have to explain anything, if you don't get that it looks like your black cat which happens to be Michael's favourite then that's a you problem

Would spend hours having staring contests with your cats. 

You will find him, not a single thought behind his or your cat's eyes, staring at each other 

If it's rz mikey he will make you a mask inspired by your cats. 

VINCENT SINCLAIR:

It all started when you one day came back covering something with your jacket that was suspiciously breathing 

He tried, he really tried to say no. But you gave him that puppy dog eyes stare and promised that it won't bother anyone and you would've take care of everything 

He hasn't known peace since 

All it took was one (1) single time of him saying yes for you it to become a menace with the whole stray cats thing

He had to give up in the end so now he's just helping you out with your little friends 

You kept your promise but he didn't want you to overworked yourself - and because honestly he's starting to love them too but you didn't hear it from- 

Now…I know what you all want to know

YES, JONESY GETS ALONG WITH THEM CAUSE SHE'S THE BEST GIRL EVER. HE'S LIKE A ADOPTIVE MAMA TO THEM AND YOU CAN'T CHANGE MY MIND

Vinny loves to have one of the kittens sleeping on his lap while he's working but would have to stop doing it because he gets distracted by petting and playing with them

The house of wax will suddenly be filled with cat themed things and even cat wax figures (none of them are your cat's dw. Vinny would never do that to you)

He knows and you know that Bo doesn't like the cats and the cats don't like Bo

So you both try your best to keep both parties away from each other. 

Ngl Vinny would shamelessly let the cats scratch the shit out of Bo when he starts acting like an asshole

What makes Vinny appreciate the cats even more is that they keep you company when he has to work all day.

At least he knows you're not alone

He has done countless drawings of you with your cats

Vincent is a simple man, if it makes his s/o happy then he doesn't have a problem with it. 

Besides, all of your cats really like Vincent. Cats are really sensitive to people's energies and vibes and Vincent has something that is simply irresistible to your kitties 

BO SINCLAIR:

Bo absolutely despises them. 

As soon as you bring one cat home he's already throwing it out

He's going to mercilessly make fun of how obsessed you're with cats 

Tho everytime he goes to run some errands he brings something that has a cat on it for you

One of your favourite gifts that Bo has brought you is a cat shaped mug. You always and only use that mug for everything 

Everytime he sees you drinking from it he just smirks proud of himself 

Type of person who argues with you about how cats sucks just out of spite 

That's until you bring home a specific cat 

It's black but has white paws and he's missing one eye

It was love at first sight 

That cat tolerated you at most but with Bo? That little fucker just acts like an angel

Bo's not gonna let you forget it not now not ever

Much like with jonesy, he started with the whole "I ain't gonna care for that little shit" just for you to find him on the couch cuddling with the cat

He's the kitty's dad now and you can't do anything about it

He'll pretend he doesn't know what you're talking about when reminding him of how he used to hate cats

Mh? Hating cats? Couldn't be him y/n. He's a father now, what you're talking about

It's basically the "I hate everyone but you" trope just with a cat that has anger issues as big as bo's 

JASON VOORHEES:

Jason loves animals, I'm pretty sure we're all aware of that

Now if we're talking about normal Jason then there's no problem

Zombie Jason on the other side… at these point your cats are straight up bullying him

Animals tend to avoid Jason now that he's not alive 

Every single one of your cats is weirded out by jason. Every Time he's near them it's like peace has never been an option in their life 

Please try to cheer him up cause he's getting his feeling obliterated by a bunch of merciless mini demons

Even if your cats are a fucking menace in this man's life he's going to care about them as much as you do

He treats them like they're the most precious thing in the world just because they're important to you

He's building them all little beds and things where they can play safely

He's going to be careful none of them gets out of the cabin and if they do he's immediately bringing them back inside looking at them with concern and silently scolding them

He makes you wooden cat themed things too 

Like he has made mini wood figures of all your cats 

The only time the cats are comfortable around Jason is when he sits still on the couch or bed and just let them approach him.

He doesn't even dares to look at the little thing as it curls on himself on Jason lap to sleep

That's it, he's never going to get up again. Oh well, it's not like he has anything to do right?

Both normal Jason and zombie Jason would help you rescue stray cats. 

He's overall so happy of having them around but they are literally the meanest things he has ever seen

#slashers #slasher community #slasher fandom #horror movies #slasher fanfiction #slasher x reader #michael myers #halloween #rz michael myers #bo sinclair #og michael myers #peepaw michael myers #peepaw myers #michael myers x reader #bo sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair #vincent sinclair x reader #jason voorhees #jason voorhees x reader #slasher headcanons #friday the 13th #house of wax

[bteezxyewriter12]

Only You/ 1

Pairing- Yoongi x Named Reader

Word count- 3.2k

Includes- Angst

Tag List- @mingtina @jaxxmine @yeosayang @delightfulmoonbanana @tannie13 @y00nzin0 @marsstarxhwa

@borntowalkaway @soulseobi05 @kpop-bambi @seokwoosmole @meowmeowminnie @realisticnotes @effielumiere @jintheastronaut

Masterlists- check out for more fics

📝Series Masterlist 📝Masterlists

📝BTS Masterlist 📝Yoongi Masterlist

J POV

I'm so fucking pissed

I caught Hobi flirting with another girl

Again

This time is worse because I'm standing right here

He knows I'm right next to him and he's still doing it

I can't believe he's flirting with his hair stylist, right in front of me, with no regard for me

Again

He's always flirting with other girls whether I'm right next to him or not

Like I'm not there

We've been together for three years and yeah we've been fighting a lot lately but I never flirt with anyone

So why does he do it?

At least do it when I'm not around if he can't control himself

I can't take this shit anymore

I brought it up to him once but he brushed it off and made me feel like I was a baby for complaining

He made me feel stupid, telling me that I know he loves me and it doesn't mean anything

I fell for it but now I realize how stupid I was being

If he really loves me he wouldn't do it

Whether I was there or not, he wouldn't do it

But he does

And I don't want to think about what that means about his feelings for me

"Hoseok, can I talk to you for a second", I ask through clenched teeth

He glances over at me, rolling his eyes

Did he just roll his eyes at me?

What the fuck?

"I'll be right back", he tells Nali

The fuck he will

Nali has the balls to glare at me

What the actual fuck?

She knows Hobi is my boyfriend

Everyone here knows Hobi is my boyfriend

Why is she giving me a dirty look?

I don't think as I start moving towards her

Her eyes widen in fear and she backs up

Hobi grabs my arm, pulling me to the hallway outside the dressing room

No one is here

"What? What do you want now?", he snaps

Is he kidding me?

"Are you serious?", I ask in disbelief

"What?"

I don't know why he's acting dumb but it's pissing me off

"You were fucking flirting with her Hoseok!", I yell

"So what? It's just flirting. I'm not touching her", Hobi rolls his eyes

"Seriously? How would you like it if I flirted with another guy?"

He shrugs, "Go ahead"

I stare at him, stunned

Is he for real?

"Why are you doing this Hobi?"

"Doing what Joanne? What are you whining about now?", he snaps

"Hoseok, I'm your fucking girlfriend-"

"Sometimes I wish you weren't", he yells

I stop, surprised and my heart breaks

"Whhh....what?", I stutter

"I wish you weren't my girlfriend. You're always whining and complaining. You're so annoying. I wish I could do whatever I want without having to hear you. I wish you were different. I wish you were someone else", he shouts

I just stand there, taking each hit, my heart shattering with everything he says

I love him so much

Why is he saying this?

I haven't done anything but love him

And he wishes I was someone else?

Why?

What's wrong with me?

"Who do you want me to be? Your hair stylist?", I snap

"Yes", he answers, completely ending my world, "At least she's not annoying and always bothering me. I actually have fun and like talking to her. Unlike you"

"I thought you loved me", I say

"I do but I can't take you anymore. If you were like you used to be, there would be no problems. I don't like the way you are and I wish you weren't my girlfriend"

'Don't cry', I tell myself as tears slide down my face

"Great, now you're crying", he rolls his eyes again

He doesn't want me and it hurts

Why does he think that what he's saying won't hurt me?

He's not stupid, so why is he acting like he doesn't know this?

"Then your wish is coming true Hoseok. I'm not your girlfriend anymore, so you can do whatever you want", I answer

"You're breaking up with me?", he asks surprised

Seriously, is he really surprised?

"You said you wish I wasn't your girlfriend. So I'm giving you what you want"

"Fine. Whatever. Good, now I don't have to worry about you anymore.", he snaps

I just nod at him, then turn away from the only guy I ever loved

And it hurts

I feel like I can't breathe

I take a few steps then slam into someone

"I'm sorry", I say looking up to see Yoongi

My best friend since we were little

He was the only one who was nice to me in school when I moved to Daegu when we were six.

No one wanted to be around the foreign girl who couldn't speak to them

Only Yoongi and we've been best friends since.

How long was he standing there?

"Jo", he starts

"What did you hear?", I ask, tears still falling

"Uh...everything. Joanne I'm-"

"Don't Yoongi, I can't right now"

"But-"

"I just need a break. I'll talk to you later", I manage to get out

Then I walk around him and leave the building

I go sit down at one of the benches next to the building, and cry in my hands

How is this happening?

I really just broke up with Hobi

And he didn't care at all

He's glad he doesn't have to worry about me anymore

When did our relationship get to that point?

We argue and fight more often but we always make up

He always tells me he loves me

He started to become more loving at home and more standoffish in public

I don't know why he started being like that but I tried to deal with it as much as I could

It kills me that he just doesn't care

I ended a three year relationship and he couldn't give a shit

It hurts so much

I just want to go home

But I can't

I'm a BTS makeup artist and I need to stay for the photo shoot to touch up their makeup

I'm dreading the rest of the day

🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱

Yoongi POV

I'm fucking enraged

How could Hoseok say that to her?

And he knew I was standing there

How can he hurt her like that then act like it's not a big deal?

He told her he wishes she wasn't his girlfriend

That he wishes she was someone else

Then he agreed when she said his hair stylist

Who says that to their girlfriend?

That had to hurt her so much

And he had the balls to actually act surprised that she was breaking up with him

What the fuck did he expect?

He's a fucking idiot

She's the best girlfriend anyone could ask for

I'd kill to have her

To have her look at me the way she looks at him

To see her love directed at me

To just have her see me as more than her best friend

And this idiot had it and he threw it away

But more than that, he completely hurt the girl I love, my best friend and that pisses me the fuck off.

When I get back to the dressing room, I see Hoseok talking to Nali

Is he for real?

"Hoseok!", I yell, getting to him

I'm so mad

He turns to me

"Yeah?"

Like he doesn't have a care in the world

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"What are you talking about?", he asks

What am I talking about?

Is he stupid or something?

"How could you say all those things to Joanne? How could you hurt her like that?"

"Oh her", he rolls his eyes

It's taking everything in me to not punch him in the face

What does he mean, "Oh her?"

She's been his girlfriend for three years and he's acting like she's just some girl he doesn't love

"What the fuck do you mean "her"?", I growl

"Look Yoongi it's really none of your business how I am with my girlfriend", he snaps

"Ex-girlfriend motherfucker. She dumped you"

"Whatever"

He's just making everything worse

"I told you not to hurt her when you asked her out. I warned you. And you're going to tell me why you're fucking hurting her or I will kick your fucking ass"

He looks at me with his eyebrow raised

Like he doesn't believe I'll do it

Fucking try me

"She's annoying. She's always nagging me, complaining and I can't take it anymore. She's not how she used to be and I don't like how she's become."

"It's because of how you're acting that made her change you idiot!"

How can he not see that?

How can he not see that his flirting is making her insecure and making her worry?

How is he that dumb?

"You're fucking flirting with anything that walks, with girls that can't compare to her in the slightest", I snap

"Hey!", Nali interjects

I snap my gaze to her, "Oh shut up. You're so disgusting. Have some fucking class and stop flirting with someone else's boyfriend. You're so desperate it's fucking pathetic"

She stares at me in complete shock

Ignoring her, I go back to Hobi

"You're flirting is making her think she's not good enough for you. That's why she's changing"

He snorts, "She's not"

What?

Did he just say what I think he did?

Because if he did I'm going to snap

"What the fuck did you say?", I growl

"I said she's not good enough"

Rages floods my body and I start moving towards him

"You motherfucker-"

"Yoongi stop", Jungkook yells, coming in front of me, blocking me from Hobi

"How can you say that about her?", I snarl

He shrugs, "Because it's true. She used to be but not anymore. She broke up with me and I didn't care in the slightest. I don't care. I'm glad I don't have to deal with her anymore."

"She's the girl you're supposed to love and you say this shit?"

"I don't love her. I used to but I don't anymore"

"You-", I start

"Stop Yoongi. He's being an ass to egg you on. Stop", Jungkook says

"No he's not. He really feels that way. You didn't hear the things he said to her"

"Ok but then you should be happy she's not with him. She's hurt now but at least he's not going to keep hurting her. You need to be there for her. Forget about him"

He's right

I need to be there for Joanne

Fuck Hoseok

She's better off without him

I'll help her get over him

I back up and Jungkook moves away from me

Hoseok is standing there smirking at me

"Cut it the fuck out Hoseok", Jungkook snaps, "Stop provoking him"

"Whatever", he answers, turning away from me and back to Nali

I walk away before I snap again and sit in a makeup chair waiting for Joanne

She always does my makeup

I wait for a few minutes, then she walks back in

Her eyes go to Hoseok whose still laughing and talking with Nali

And this time she's touching his arm

Her face falls and tears fill her eyes again

It hurts me to see her hurt

She's my best friend since we were little

We were always there for each other growing up

I fell in love with her when we were sixteen

I was too scared to say anything at the time, then I auditioned for BigHit and had to leave Daegu to move to Seoul

And I just never told her

She was there for my debut and briefly met the guys that day

Then she went back to Daegu until four years ago, when she came here for school to become a makeup artist

I got her the job here as our makeup artist

But putting makeup on idols isn't what she really wanted to do

So she also has a youtube channel where she does special effects makeup and body painting

And she's so fucking talented

I didn't know body paint can look so good

She does movie, book, tv and other characters with the body paint and does more horror stuff with the special effects products

She is extremely popular on youtube with over 4 million followers and makes a lot of money on there

Honestly she doesn't need this job, she can just do youtube and be fine

But she stays for me, Hobi and the guys

When she moved here to Seoul, she met Hobi again

He was all she talked about and I knew she liked him a lot

I also knew that she definitely didn't see me that way

It hurt but her happiness was and is so much more important than my feelings

Hobi asked her out and I warned him to never hurt her

He promised he wouldn't and they fell in love

I remember the day she told me she loved him

It killed me but I refuse to ruin her happiness and still kept quiet

I've had girlfriends over the three years they've been together but it never lasted more than a few months

Being an idol is very stressful and incredibly busy

And I didn't make an effort to see the girls I was with often enough and after two or three months, I just ended it

The real reason is because the girls weren't her

I tried to date but it didn't work so last year I just stopped trying

I just want her and I know that it's pointless to date anyone else when it would just end

So I'm single and I don't think about it

I don't have sex with just anyone like some of the guys do

I just stay away from girls

Because for me, no one compares to her

And seeing her so fucking heartbroken over his dumb ass hurts and enrages me

I would never hurt her

She'd never feel hurt or have to worry with me

I'd make sure she'd be happy and feel so loved because she's my everything

I'd treat her like my princess because she is

I wished she'd see the love I have for her

I just wish she'd see me

But she doesn't

Not like that

It's always been Hoseok

Watching her, she wipes her eyes then walks over to where I am, her head down

"Hey Jo", I call softly

She yelps, her head snapping up immediately

"Oh god Yoongi, you scared me", she says her hand on her heart

"Sorry", I apologize

"It's ok. I should of been paying attention", she answers, "You waiting for me?"

I nod

"Shit I'm sorry Yoongi. I forgot. Did you do your hair already?"

I nod, "Yeah and I'm already dressed. I just need the makeup"

"Ok. I'll do it quickly, so you don't get in trouble"

"Don't worry about it Jo. You don't have to rush"

She gives me a small smile, then starts applying foundation to my face

"Jo, I'm sorry about-"

"It's ok Yoongi. I don't want to talk about it"

"Ok", I answer, not knowing what to say now

She's being really quiet but I guess that's normal for what just happened

"I don't know why they make us fill in your eyebrows. They're fine the way they are", she mutters using a pencil in my eyebrows

"I uh I dunno", I answer

"It's stupid because it can make you look like a girl with such filled in eyebrows. Especially when some of the other artists do it"

"It never looks like that when you do it", I point out

"Because I know what I'm doing. I know the difference between guys eyebrows and girls eyebrows", she grumbles

I can't help but smile

She's so cute

"Close your eyes"

I close them, then feel her glide the makeup brush along my lids

She loves eye makeup the most and always takes her time doing ours

And the way she does hers is amazing

She likes bright vibrant colors and they all look amazing on her

I've only seen her in "natural" eye makeup a few times.

She looks beautiful either way and so fucking gorgeous without makeup too

"Ok open your eyes"

I stare at her as she looks at me, checking the make up

"Close this eye", she instructs, pointing to my left eye

I close it and she moves the brush on my eye more

"Open"

She looks again as I open my eye, then she nods, "Good"

"Done?", I ask disappointed

I want to stay with her more

She snorts, "No. They want you guys contoured to the max today. You guys are doing a dark theme so that means sharp angles"

I love when she talks to me about makeup

I vaguely know what she's talking about but I love listening to her talk about it

She's really passionate about makeup

She gets another makeup palette and a brush

She runs the brush along my jaw and cheek

She tilts her head to the side, while looking at both sides of my face

God I love that habit of hers

That and her lip bites drive me insane

I just want to kiss her but I would never

I'm too scared

"You're good Yoongi", she says, moving away from me

I don't want to leave but I have to

"Thanks Jo", I say

She just nods

"Uh Jo?", I call

She turns to me, "Yeah?"

"Uh do you want me to uh stay with you today after the photo shoot? We can hang out so you're not alone"

I don't know why I'm so nervous asking her this

We hang out all the time

I've been to her apartment millions of times and she's been to the dorm and my studio

"Oh uh thanks Yoongi but uh not today. I just want to go home and be alone right now ok? Another time, I promise"

My heart sinks but I understand

"Ok Jo. Let me know when and I'll be there"

"Thanks Yoongi"

I nod and force myself to walk away

🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱

J POV

Sitting on my couch, I stare at the tv blankly

Two days passed and it's torture

I'm trying to deal with it alone but I'm not doing too well

I keep wondering if Hobi is with his hair stylist or another girl

If he really doesn't care

He hasn't called me or texted

I don't know what to do, I just sit here and think, feel hurt and it's not good

Picking up my phone, I call my best friend

"Hey Jo", he answers, after a few rings

"Yoongi", I whimper

"Jo, are you ok?", he immediately asks

"No Yoongi, I'm not"

"Are you home?"

"Yes"

"I'll be there in fifteen minutes"

Of course he'll be here for me

He's always there when I need him

"You don't have to"

"Shush. Did you eat?"

"No"

I can't eat

I'm not hungry

"I'm picking up food on my way there. You have to eat ok?"

"Ok", I whisper

"I'll be there soon", he promises

We hang up and I just curl into my couch waiting for Yoongi to come

#only you fic #bts yoongi fanfic #min yoongi fanfic #yoongi fanfic #bts yoongi smut #min yoongi smut #yoongi smut #bts suga fanfic #suga fanfic #bts suga smut #suga smut #bts smut #bts fanfic

[tiny-tini-imagines]

OMG I just found your blog and damn I'm in love with your writing.

Would it be ok if I asked for some Witcher headcananons?

I would love to have some for Gerald as a father, (but just imagine Ciri didn't exist). So Gerlad found this girl, whose family was killed by a monster, and he took her with him and slowly became her father. So some head cannons about Gerald being a Dad.

I'd appreciate it, sending lots of love your way.

Re.: Hey, THANK YOU SO MUCH! And also thanks for the request, I loved writing it, and hope it's what you wanted.

Headcanons - The Witcher

summary: Geralt as a Father

(added: character art, what they would say to them, or about them)

Father-Daughter Bond: Geralt sees her as his own daughter, and their bond is unbreakable. He may not be the most expressive person, but his love for her is evident in the little things he does. He doesn't hesitate to show his affection through his actions, even if he doesn't always say it out loud.

A Loving Home: The other witchers, initially skeptical of her presence, have all become like uncles to her. Vesemir, in particular, has a soft spot for her and is more like a granddad figure, regaling her with stories of the past.

Protective Dad: Geralt is extremely protective of her. He watches over her like a hawk, especially when they're in unfamiliar places. If he senses any danger, he's quick to position himself between her and the threat, a silent promise that he'll keep her safe.

"I know I can be overprotective, but it's only because I care about you so much. I just want to make sure you're safe and happy." "No matter how old you get, you'll always be my little girl. And I'll always be here to look out for you, no matter what."

Teaching Moments: He takes every opportunity to teach her valuable skills. Whether it's showing her how to properly wield a sword, start a fire, or track a monster, he is patient and thorough in his instruction. He knows that these skills could be essential for her survival one day.

"I've taught her everything I know, but she's taught me even more about what it means to be a father."

Fishing Lessons: One of their favorite pastimes is fishing. Geralt patiently teaches his daughter to fish using her bare hands.

Magic Lessons: Geralt, recognizing her potential, has enlisted the help of Triss or Yennefer to teach his daughter magic.

Nightmares and Comfort: Geralt always knows when she has nightmares, even if she tries to hide them. When she wakes up in a cold sweat, he's there to comfort her. He holds her close, whispering soothing words and stroking her hair until she can fall back asleep, feeling safe in his arms. However, sometimes, words are not necessary. Geralt will sit by her side in silence, offering his comforting presence. His strong, reassuring presence alone is enough to ease her fears.

"Don't ever forget that you can come to me with anything, whether it's a nightmare or a problem you're facing. I'll always be here for you."

Cuddles and Reassurance: Whenever she can't sleep, Geralt lets her rest on his chest. His slow, steady witcher heartbeat acts as a lullaby, calming her nerves. He often murmurs stories of their adventures, reminding her that she's never alone as long as he's around.

Unspoken Understanding: Geralt and his daughter have an unspoken understanding of each other's emotions and needs. They can communicate without words, knowing when the other needs space, comfort, or a listening ear.

Protective Stares: When they're out in public, Geralt's protective instincts kick in. He'll give anyone who looks at her a stern, warning glare, ensuring they keep their distance. She often teases him about being an overprotective dad, but secretly, she appreciates it. However he'll always observe anyone who gets too close to his daughter, especially young men who may be interested in her romantically. He watches them like a hawk and isn't afraid to make his presence known if he feels they're crossing boundaries.

Special Nicknames: Geralt has a soft spot for calling her by special nicknames, like "Little Wolf". These names are his way of showing affection without having to say the words out.

Inside Jokes: They share a ton of inside jokes from their adventures together. These jokes often involve specific monsters, places they've been, or humorous situations they've found themselves in. They can exchange a knowing glance and burst into laughter while others look on in confusion.

For instance, they might exchange a knowing glance and say: "Well, it's not another cursed Djinn, at least."

Grooming Ritual: Just as wolves in a pack groom each other as a sign of care and affection, Geralt has a ritual of carefully checking her equipment, for example ensuring her sword is sharp...

Hugs with Heart: Geralt's hugs may not be frequent, but when he does embrace her, it's full of warmth and love. He squeezes her gently, and it's a silent reassurance that no matter what challenges they face, they'll always have each other. OR It's a strong, one-armed embrace that speaks volumes about his affection and protection.

Nurturing Nature: Geralt may not be the most nurturing person, but when she is feeling unwell or has had a rough day, he surprises her with simple comforts like a warm meal, a cozy blanket, or a soothing cup of tea. He does these things quietly, without drawing attention to them.

Words of Encouragement: Whenever his daughter faces a challenge, Geralt is there to offer words of encouragement. He believes in her abilities and constantly reminds her that she's more than capable of handling whatever comes her way.

"Remember, it's okay to ask for help when you need it. You don't have to carry everything on your own shoulders."

The "Real Daughter" Comment: If anyone were foolish enough to suggest that she isn't his real daughter, Geralt's response would be swift and stern. He'd shut down such remarks with a single cold look and a firm, "She's my daughter, and that's all that matters."

"I've raised her, protected her, and loved her since she was just a frightened child. That makes her my daughter, no matter what anyone says."

The Origin Question: If she were to ask about her origins, Geralt would sit her down and explain the circumstances of how he found her. He'd emphasize that it doesn't matter where she came from; what matters is the family they've become and the love they share.

"You're my family, Little Wolf. Blood doesn't make family; the bonds we forge do." "No matter where life takes you, always know that you have a home here at Kaer Morhen, and you have a family who loves you."

Proud Dad Moments: Geralt is incredibly proud of her talents, whether it's her proficiency in combat or her mastery of magic. He doesn't shy away from expressing his pride when she accomplishes something remarkable, even if it's just a simple, approving nod.

Shared Secrets: They have a few secrets that only they know, like a hidden spot in Kaer Morhen where they go to stargaze.

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[heecase]

11:36PM - “Enough!” Heeseung shouted. He didn’t understand why you were acting like this. Ever since he got home you’ve been breathing down his neck about why he was arriving home so late and he just didn’t understand why. You knew he had a late schedule today. He even texted you to remind you multiple times throughout the day. He did everything right, so why are you angry at him?

“Just tell me what you were really doing. Admit that you were seeing someone else so we can end this!” You shouted, clenching your phone so tightly that you thought the device was going to break. The tears running down your face never stopping. Heeseung’s face distorted at your accusing words. A mix of confusion and anger laced his beautiful features. It was too much, you had to look away before your heart breaks even more.

“What is wrong with you?” He questioned,  running a hand harshly through his messy hair. “I told you where I was, who I was with, and what time I would be home! What more do you want from me?! What more can I do?!” He asked, choking back a sob. “I don’t know why you’re accusing me of cheating but I haven’t done anything wrong!” He was now yelling too. 

“I can’t believe you’re still lying to me. Do I have to tell you the breaking news?! Just get it over with and admit it!” You screamed, throwing your phone at him. He caught it unexpectedly, looking at the twitter post that you had opened. Dispatch had written an article about him and a female idol from his company. The pictures were so blurry even he couldn’t tell who it was supposed to be. All he knew was that the male was not him. But you were too engrossed in your thoughts to hear him out.

“Y/n, listen. That’s not me. You know I would never do that to you.” He said, trying to calm both of them down. You just looked at him and laughed, exasperated at his excuse.

“Then who is it? Why do they think it’s you? You’re both under the same company so it would make sense for you to meet each other there and do god knows what!” You said throwing your arms in the air, not knowing what to say anymore.

“I don’t know what I can say to make you believe me. I don’t even know who this is! I’ve never even talked to this girl before. I could never love anyone else but you.” He said, grabbing your hand and making you look at him. “Please believe me.” He whispered, scared to talk any louder. He was trying so hard not to break down before he cleared up the situation because he didn’t know how this would end if he did. His thumb caressed the back of your hand as he stared into your eyes, begging you to believe him and for the first time since this argument started, you looked deeply into his eyes and thought that maybe you were wrong. His anger was long gone and all that was left was a scared, broken boy. He was terrified that you wouldn’t believe him, that you had made up your mind before he could reassure you. What would he do if you decided that you didn’t love him anymore? You couldn’t leave him though, how was he supposed to live without you? Heeseung was trying his best to convey all of his emotions through his eyes because he didn’t know what words to say anymore. Looking at you desperately, trying to change your mind.

“I’m sorry.” You said, looking down. You don’t mean to not trust him, but the little voice in your head was telling you otherwise and sometimes your demons win.

“Can you please tell me what you’re thinking?” He said, lifting your chin and making you look back into his eyes. His thumb caressed your cheek, wiping the residual tears from your face.

“You’ve been coming home late almost every day. Sometimes it takes you hours to respond to a text. On most days, I can’t stay up and wait for you. So how am I supposed to know that you even came home when you said you would? There are so many beautiful people around you every single day. I’m just scared and insecure that you’ll find someone prettier and better than me because you probably deserve someone better…” You said honestly. It was hard to reveal your inner thoughts because you knew how absurd it sounded.

“Y/n, I love you. I’m so sorry if I made you feel that way.” Heeseung pulled you into a hug, patting your head to calm you down. “If I could come home earlier, I would. If I could text you back as soon as you text me, I would in a heartbeat. I feel like such a shitty boyfriend for making you feel like you’re not enough and that I would want anyone else.” 

“I knew what I was getting myself into when I agreed to this but I didn’t know how intrusive my thoughts would get.” You replied, not knowing if it was the right thing to say. You never wanted to burden him with your insecure thoughts but maybe it was time to open up more. If you don’t tell him what you’re thinking then he’ll never know. 

He pulled away to look into your eyes again. “Y/n, I love you so much. I can’t imagine my day to day life without you. It’s not your fault for thinking those things, but you can talk to me about it. I would never judge you.” You thought about his words before nodding. He was always so understanding and perfect. You felt like such an idiot for accusing him out of nowhere, when he’s always shown you how sincere his love was.

“I love you, Heeseung.” You said, never breaking eye contact.

“I love you more.” He replied before pulling you into a tender kiss. 

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