#which is why it’s a toss up if he himself is married

[mint-yooxgi]

What About Me? - San X Reader

Part of the CODN Spring Event - The Language of Flowers

Genre: Angst, Non-idol!AU, Best Friend!AU

Pairing: San X GN!Reader

Words: 1,704

Rating: E for Everyone :)

Warnings: Jealousy, alluded to the fact reader doesn't have a shirt on at times

A/n: So, I really wanted to play around with how different flowers have different meanings, and could be interpreted differently depending on the person. Hehe, As always feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy!~

Summary: An innocent gesture, or something much deeper?

Yellow Rose - Jealousy

The sound of his knock echoes loudly in his ears as San stands on your front porch. A bundle of flowers rests in his hands, shifting himself from foot to foot as he waits for you to answer the door. You had asked him to come over, and as he recalls the reason why, he cannot help but let out a sigh.

“Oh, good!” You grin as soon as the front door swings open. “You’re here!”

Without wasting another moment, you tug him inside.

“Andy will be here soon, and I just can’t decide if I should wear the red shirt, or the yellow shirt!” Your voice is a little frantic as you waste no time marching right back into your room.

You didn’t even notice the flowers.

Slipping off his shoes, San follows you silently into your bedroom where he already sees you tossing clothing everywhere onto the floor. You’re rambling about this new guy you met - Andy - and San cannot help but to nod almost absentmindedly along to your words.

He’ll give it a week, and then you’re sure to come crying to him again about how yet another man has disappointed you. Another man that isn’t him.

If only you would give him a chance. Maybe then you could see just how much of a gentleman he could be to you. He already treats you like royalty, but you simply refuse to acknowledge that anything is there.

San knows he’s not the only one that sees it. All of your other friends have always commented on the chemistry the two of you share. From jokes about getting married, to teasing remarks about already being a seasoned couple, every comment seemingly goes right over your head. That, or you simply refuse to acknowledge how well you two fit together.

No. After so many years together, you refuse to acknowledge San as anything but your friend.

It drives him insane. Can’t you see how much he cares for you? Do you not realize the extents he would go to lay the whole world at your feet, if only you asked him to? Either way, San knows that he’s desperately in love with you, but you never seem to feel the same way.

Letting out another sigh, San sits forward. Resting his elbows on his knees, he fiddles with the large bouquet in his hands as your voice dies out in your throat.

Finally, it seems as if he’s gotten your attention.

“Who are those for?” You blink curiously, leaning into him so that he can practically smell your intoxicating perfume over the scent of the yellow roses clutched in his hands. “Did you finally manage to score a date yourself after so long?”

San’s gaze, which had been intently focuses on the blooming flowers, shifts upwards to met your own.

“No. If I were bringing flowers for a date, they wouldn’t be yellow.” He hums, sitting up fully in his spot.

“I was gonna say,” you chuckle, moving back over to your closet to pick out another shirt. This time, it’s purple. His favourite colour. “If you’re going to get roses for someone whom you’re romantically involved, yellow is probably the worst colour you could choose.”

“Oh?” San quirks a brow at you, watching you intently.

“Yeah.” You hum casually, turning back to face him once your slip on your shirt. “Don’t you know that yellow roses signify friendship?”

This time, both his brows raise at you in mild disbelief. “Do they?”

That’s certainly not what he was going for, but if that’s how you want to interpret them, who is he to stop you. It’s probably better if you think that, anyways. The last thing he needs is to get into another argument with you over his jealousy.

“So…” you trail off, a knowing grin tugging at the corner of your lips. “Who are they for?”

“Well, obviously I brought them for you.” He offers you the bouquet of roses, just as he’s always offered you his heart.

And like always, his meaning seems to go right over your head.

“Oh, Sannie!” A brilliant smile stretches out across your features as you reach out to take the flowers from his hands. “You shouldn’t have!”

Little do you see the way his whole body jolts, his breath hitching as your fingers brush lightly over his skin. The gently kiss of gratitude you place upon the skin of his cheek only serves to make the warmth in his chest blossom, spreading outwards pleasantly. All the way until it reaches the very tips of his fingers.

“What’s the occasion?” There’s a teasing lilt to your voice as you walk out of your room and towards the kitchen.

San, of course, is eager to follow you out, his eyes drooping slightly as he purses his lips. Though, the moment you turn around, a glass vase in hand, he’s back to looking every part of the chipper male you’ve come to know.

“Can I not bring flowers to the most beautiful person I know?” The corner of his lips quirk upwards, but the grin doesn’t fully reach his eyes.

“You can bring me flowers like this anytime, Sannie Boy,” You giggle, and the melodic sounds sets his heart racing inside of his chest.

Hearing such a joyful sound, and knowing that he’s the cause of it… well… to him, there is no greater feeling. Even if he’s stuck as your friend for all eternity, that is where he wants to stay. There is no place he would rather be than by your side, where he knows he’s always belonged. His only wish is that he could be more.

“I’m just glad you like them.” His reply is gentle, glancing up at you through his lashes.

San watches you as you place the bouquet in that glass vase, noting the way your fingertips gently trace over the side of the silken petals. If only he could being doing the same to you right now. He’d pull you close, his arms wrapped securely around you as he whispers that you’ll never have to worry about another thing ever again. He would tell you all about his promises to protect you, to be there for you, and how he only wants to make you smile every and any chance he gets.

You are the light of his life, and he only ever wants to be the light in yours.

“Oh, I almost forgot!” He blinks, so caught up in his own thoughts for the moment, that the final touch he had brought with him nearly slips his mind. 

Reaching into his pocket, San pulls out a small red ribbon. Stepping forward, he ties a simple, neat bow around the stems of the roses, smiling at you all the while.

“San.” A soft smile pulls at your features, a hand coming up to rest over your heart as you breathlessly sigh his name. “Thank you.”

“I’m just glad you like them.” He repeats his words from moments earlier, inclining his head softly. 

His eyes shine with nothing but adoration for you, longing to step forward and cup your cheek in his hand. Only, he cannot. So, he’ll happily settle for the small moments, such as this, that you give him now.

You meet his gaze, that tender expression still pulling at your features. An expression of which that causes San’s heart to absolutely flutter inside of his chest.

“Oh, I more than like them, Sannie.” You pause in your movements of brushing your thumb over a petal as you smile at him. “I love them.”

You tug a single rose free from its confines in the vase, careful not to ruin the beautiful display.

“What are you doing?” San quirks a brow, watching as you step closer to him with that single rose in your hand.

A blink, and you offer it to him with a large smile stretching across your features.

“Giving my best friend a flower.” You reply cheekily. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

Though your meaning might be vastly different than his, his heart still warms at the action. 

He wastes no time in reaching out to gently grasp the stem you offer him, bringing the fresh bloom to his nose and inhaling its scent.

The corner of his lips twitch upwards.

Just as he goes to respond, another knock sounds at your door. The way you visibly perk up, scurrying over to answer whoever it is, makes San’s heart squeeze painfully in his chest.

You had just been sharing such a tender moment, too…

With one final look at the golden bouquet, San turns away. Letting out a long breath through his nose, he walks towards your font door, leaning on the wall lightly with his arms crossed over his chest. His gaze scans over this new guy - Andy - and the first thing San notices is how empty his hands are.

Not even a single flower for you.

San shakes his head. His eyes narrow pointedly at the tall male across from him, hand tightening on the single stem held in his own hand.

“Sorry I’m late,” Andy says, bringing a hand up to scratch the back of his head sheepishly. “You look beautiful.”

At the giggle you let out, San feels his heart squeeze painfully in his chest once more.

He purses his lips, listening to you chat excitedly with this new male, who, in San’s opinion, does not deserve even a second of your attention.

Andy doesn’t bring you flowers. 

San does.

“Alright, I’ll be back later.” You say, reaching for your bag as you send one final look San’s way.

San can only offer you a tight smile in return, your focus almost immediately back on Andy as soon as those words are out of your mouth. He can only watch on, a crushing pain in his chest, as you exit through the front door, waving a final goodbye to him over your shoulder.

As San watches you walk away from him, yet again, in the arms of another male, that familiar jealous beast inside of him rears its ugly head.

The stem of the yellow rose finally snaps in his hand.

#cultofdionysusnet #code: spring24 #san x reader #san imagines #san drabble #san angst #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #ateez drabble #atz x reader #atz angst #atz scenarios #atz drabble #kpop scenarios #kpop angst #kpop x reader #kpop au #ateez au #san au #kpop drabble

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

twilight for the uninitiated

HEYLO BABYGIRLS, BITCHBOYS, AND BOYCOTTERS OF THE BINARY! It's your favourite (and I should hope only) Good Omens Mascot and Maggot Prince here. Yesterday (earlier today? idk I sleep in naps) way over on the maggots server some of y'all were insulting Twilight. Which I am 100% supportive of, but for Bildaddy's sake, you need to insult it CORRECTLY.

But should you have to hate-watch or hate-read it? Nah, you've got me. In middle school I got late to school because I was reading the books in the bathroom instead of getting ready. I'VE GOT YOU! Gonna mix up the book and movie for optimum enjoyment.

Dramatis Personae: Edward Cullen, aka Sparkles the Vampire. Bella Swan, aka Bella Sue. Jacob Black, aka Wolfy Eggfucker. Charlie Swan, aka Gunboy ACAB. And Dr Carlisle Cullen, aka Zaddy. @orpiknight taught me that word.

ALRIGHT! So Bella Sue's mum and dad are divorced and she lives with her mum. But her mum's like lmao fuck you when she gets a touring boyfriend and tosses Bella Sue to Forks, where it rains a lot, and where her dad Gunboy lives.

So Bella Sue grabs a cactus because that represents Arizona and hauls ass, and Gunboy makes awkward comments about her hair. Bonding! But then he gets her a pickup truck, which is wild-o.

First day of school and Bella Sue is very popular because Small Town and the boys are very tingly in the ballsacks if you catch my drift. Anna Kendrick asks her why she's white (YOU CAN'T JUST ASK PEOPLE WHY THEY'RE WHITE, KAREN!) and then promptly forgets she was in the movie.

INTRODUCING THE VAMPIRES! This is a vampire story, by the way. There's Himbo, Blonde Murderer, and they're dating/married. There's Bi Awakening and some constipated looking dude from the Confederate army, and they're dating/married (don't worry about it). There's Sparkles, of course, and they all walk into the cafeteria being Hot apparently. Sparkles stares at Bella Sue. This is to be a common theme.

Sparkles thinks Bella Sue stinks. No, like, literally, she stinks coz he wants to eat her and food smells etc. Bella Sue also has magic powers and Sparkles can't read her mind. He's like >:(=. Those are his fangs, btw. But then he goes away with his family to hunt animals and drink blood and comes back like :)=.

Bella Sue almost gets hit by a car but then Sparkles jumps in and pushes it away. He then gaslight gatekeeps girlbosses her, and googles adrenaline rush to explain it to her. AND GUESS WHO HEALS HER? IT'S SPARKLES'S DAD, AND MY ZADDY. He walks into the ER all blonde and gentle and competent. Oh and he's a vampire too and so is his wife but like his magic power is compassion and also he's learned to regulate himself around blood. And he's pretty. Zaddy.

He's so fucking pretty but then we have to go back to the Plot and some humans are being killed or whatever and Gunboy is takin' charge yo. Sparkles keep chasing after Bella Sue to tell her to stay away from him and finding her randomly to remind her to ABSOLUTELY STAY AWAY and then he stalks her in the night and has dinner with her after saving her from a gang to tell her to ABSOLUTELY STAY AWAY. Also, he's like 110 years old. Whatever.

Oh and Sparkles breaks into her room to watch her sleep at night. It's super duper romantic. (No, trust me, once you see Wolfy in the later books, this will be super duper romantic). Then he takes her to abandoned clearings in woods to threaten to kill her and he tells her to SAY WHAT HE IS and she's like MOSQUITE LEECH VAMPIRE.

AND THEN HE SPARKLES! A LOT! And they go to the Cullens house and play baseball and Zaddy is looking absolutely lovely and welcomes them and even stands off some random vampires that show up. But one of them likey-likey's Bella Sue's blood.

Bella Sue is like lmao fuck you you're not a good dad to Gunboy to keep him safe or whatever and runs away with the Cullens to keep herself safe or whatever. Idk man Zaddy is just very pretty throughout.

And then there's a ballet place and Bella Sue goes there to get murdered coz she doesn't want to be a burden to the Cullens (homegirl never been so real). The Cullens get there and kill the vampire but then she's vampiring so Sparkles sucks the venom out and Zaddy heals her. Looking pretty. Blonde hair, golden eyes, etc.

And then Gunboy and Bella Sue's mum show up and she goes home and she's like SPARKLES TURN ME INTO A VAMPIRE TOO and he's like yo wtf no you'll be a monster (I think he's just pissed he sucked that venom out for nothing) and she's like SPARKLES PLEASE UWU and he's like UGH WE'LL SEE and they dance at prom but anyway there it ends. It should have ended with a shot of Zaddy but anyway.

*influence voice* Like and subscribe Like and reblog for a part II coz there are three more books/four more movies. Gotta get that education. Now I have the urge to make a youtube video. Garn. ANYWAY LOVE YOU ALL BYE MAGGOTS.

#weirdly specific but ok #twilight #twilight saga #the twilight saga #the cullens #charlie swan #carlisle cullen #daddy cullen #asmi #good omens mascot #maggots #twilight summary #twilight books #would this have been shorter if i hadn't been thirsty for carlisle #maybe but romeo and juliet would have been shorter without juliet ok #hamlet would be shorter without hamlet #you see my point?

[isuckatwritingsobenice]

𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞.

Synopsis: What I think Alastors wife would be like, if he had one of course.

Warnings: mentions of blood, pinning, harassment?, Alastor being himself, not in a specific time period but at some point shifts to hell? Let me know if anyone is interested in a part two!!

Navigation!! // Masterlist!! // Serendipity Writes (event)

Alastors wife probably didnt like him at first, and that’s a guarantee. He likes a challenge, but Alastor also likes being liked by people. It fills his ego, makes him feel good about himself. He likes to watch people stumble and fall but quite literally cracks under the pressure of doing just that when it comes to winning you over. Chances were he was constantly trying to figure you out, for two reasons. One, being that he didn’t understand how you couldn’t like him. I mean come on, look at him! He’s got the charm, the manners, the style and the class, the status. What more could you want? The second reason being, the more you denied him, the more he took it as a challenge, the more he wanted you.

Well, surprise surprise, you dont like people with an image to keep up; and to his dismay, that’s exactly what he does. He projects an image. One he refuses to change, and even after marrying you, still doesn’t drop the image, but starts to become more real and honest with himself.

“People who project an image of themselves to others are just trying to fool themselves into being someone they aren’t.” Was what you told him.

Alastor had also asked you out multiple times before you finally said yes. Everyone knows Alastor is very picky with the people he chooses to surround himself with. Everyone he associates with is either there to serve him, or to provide him with something, even if they’re unaware of it. Which only made you trust him less. What purpose did you serve him? What if one day he found you no longer useful and tossed you to the side? Well what were you to do then?

Denying him proved to be a challenge in itself, seeing that he’s quite literally everywhere all at once.

He’d try cheap tricks first. Buying you gifts, constantly showing up at your doorstep with a bouquet of flowers or a stuffed animal. One time he even got you a whole gift basket of your favorite treats. How sweet~ if it was actually about you and not him just trying to patch up his ego. Well at least that was what you thought on the matter.

If that didnt work he’d resort to going ghost. After all, people only miss you when you’re gone right? Well not in this case. He had left you alone physically, at least to your knowledge, but he had still kept a close watch on you. Why, he just knew it would bother you that he suddenly stopped! Until he overheard you speaking with a friend about how happy you were to finally get some peace and quiet. Well that simply wouldn’t do. After all, you should always make an impact, and what kind of impact would he be leaving on you if you went back to your old boring life? No no that just wont do dear.

He’ll start showing back up at your doorstep, taking you on surprise outing to force you to spend time with him. He’ll take you on a walk around a nearby park, a restaurant one day, the picture show the next. He has a long list of places to take you, so you’ll never go to the same place twice! Get your dancing shoes because he’s gonna take you out to the town for the night, after all the city never sleeps! This is when he becomes less forceful, but more of a decent calm. He begins to listen more when you speak, and you actually begin to care about what he’s saying, what a shock!

It’s almost like a switch flips after your outings. He’ll take you to an orchestra show, snickering to himself when he sees your eyes begin to water as the show closes out. He’ll force you to hold onto his arm as he walks you across the street on a rainy night, making sure you don’t slip or trip on the wet pavement. If you ever do, he’ll try his best to catch you and if he doesn’t? Oh what a nightmare, it seems he’s fallen too! For you that is~

You two begin to feel closer, not only physically but emotionally. He gets you to open up about your personal struggles, and in turn, he’ll share some of his own, but not too much. He doesn’t allow himself to be fully and completely vulnerable with you, not yet. But he does try his best to sympathize with you when you share your piece of mind with him. He feels accomplished to know this part of you, and his ego is the last thing on his mind anymore, but instead you take up all the space.

He doesn’t use pet names for you, not cute ones anyway. He’ll call you his devilish belladonna, especially if you love flowers. His creepy spider Lillie. He’ll often speak in the ‘language of flowers’, and will educate you on it if you don’t know so you know exactly what he’s talking about.

He’s the type of person to correct people in public to make them feel stupid, but he never does that with you. Instead he’ll wait until it’s just the two of you and tell you jokingly how wrong you were. You’ll get upset because he let you look like a fool, but in his mind he’s just protecting your feelings. If anyone else corrects you, they’ll have their mouth sewn shut that’s for sure!

He never gets you the same bouquet of flowers. They’re always different, and every week or so you have a new one. He keeps a separate batch for himself so he knows when to get you another. That being said he also makes the bouquets himself, he does not buy them for you already made.

When you finally take Alastor up on his offer to court you properly, he is over the moon about it! Finally, you seem to be coming to your senses dear! Though you quickly follow that comment up with a “Let the blood rush to your head first.” He just bats his lashes at you with a smile. You always know how to make him feel so loved!

Gets very jealous very easily. If he sees you laughing with someone that isn’t him, he’ll size them up before deciding if they’re a threat or not. Heaven forbid anyone actually put their hands on you and uh oh! Limb of the floor someone come get it!

His possessive nature is rooted in abandonment, and thus being said, he has deep attachment issues to you. You are never out of his sight when you two begin dating, and you’re hardly ever far from him in general. You two dress similarly too, especially if you’re from the same era. He’ll switch up your wardrobe slowly so it complements his.

He isn’t one for strong PDA unless he feels like he needs too or just has a strong want too. Usually it’s an arm around your waist, or you hanging onto his arm loosely. The most he’ll ever really do is a kiss on the back of your hand or to your temple. That being said, he’s like this for various reasons.

One, he has a lot of enemies, which means that not not only does that put you in danger, but if you’re also a powerful overlord, it puts him at risk too, though he doesn’t care much about that part.

Second, he doesn’t like physical contact much, and though he always makes an exception for you, he has his image and pristine reputation to keep up. Which you extremely dislike but tolerate because it’s Alastor and if he hasn’t changed much in centuries, nothings going to change ever.

Alastor is very very fond of you, whether you believe it or not. Your fiery attitude has him whipped more than he likes to admit. He’ll joke with other sinners that he’d sacrifice you to save himself but you both know that isn’t true, his nervous ticks prove it to be false, if you do say so yourself.

He’s very fidgety. He’ll tug a piece of your clothing or twirl a strand of your hair between his claws. If you claim he’s messing up your hair he’ll cast a tornado of shadows around you to fuck it up even more, and then smiling at you lovingly when you threaten to cut his ears off because you can’t tell if they’re his hair or just furry ass ears. You always give him a good laugh.

Other sinners are actually convinced you both hate each other, but turf wars on the news show that you two are the most in love when you’re wreaking havoc on innocent sinners for no possible reason other than the fact you two had an argument and the best way to settle it? Dancing in the rain, which actually isn’t rain, just blood falling from the sky because you like to kill people for fun.

“My darling looks the best in red if I do say so myself! Especially if she’s dressed by another’s remains, oh the beauty!”

Alastor has and will continue to get in his feelings about you and his mother getting along so well. He loves you both to pieces, so seeing his two favorite people together makes his dead heart swell with joy.

He’ll ask you to accompany him to the tailors, he values your opinion more than others so you often make adjustments to his suit and he’s just like ‘Whatever she says that’s what’s going on the suit.’ You also make him your personal dressing doll, trying different patterns and styles on him for fun. Alastor is a true skinny jeans hater and he will die on that hill, again. He really appreciates the 60’s style, but prefers to stick to his own decade.

He will take you out hunting with him, and the two of you share breakfast together with the fresh meat you’ve caught. He only gets the best quality for you because he refuses to have you two ‘eating like chums’. A restaurant tried to lie to the two of you, saying their meat was high quality and fresh. Alastor killed everyone in it and you two shared remains like a true power couple. Hells finest of course. ;)

He’s very critical of picking out jewelry for you. Hunting for the perfect ring for you took him ages, mainly because he knew exactly what he wanted but no jeweler had what he wanted all in one ring. So instead he forces them to make him a custom one. Torn limbs and bloody parts later, you have the ring that Alastor worked so hard to give you. He proposes to you Extermination day, claiming he’d love to spend another year in hell with you before the angels come to rip you two apart from each other. It was such a sweet day, at least to you it was.

The type of relationship where he plays the piano and you sing. He loves when you sing and will gush about you to anyone in sight even if he doesn’t know them.

Is very needy in private. He’s a stage 10000 clinger, and will stick to you like his life depends on it, but will be damned if anyone catches him. You don’t tell anyone about it, you like the private life.

You two have cook offs all the time. You make the hotel staff judge, and ultimately Niffty is the tie breaker because she’s brutally honest. Once she told Alastor he should stay out of the kitchen because women were better at it for a reason… harsh!

He was fine though, he got her back by ridding the hotel of bugs. He knows she likes chasing them around and for that she sobbed at his feet for ten minutes asking him to bring them back. It didn’t take much actually, Sir Pentious brought them back on his own, much to Charlies dismay.

He loves to read with you. You two often read a book and once you both finish you have a tea session over it. It starts off being about the book and then somehow shifts to just gossiping and talking shit about the other overlords, except for Rosie, we love Rosie in this household.

Speaking of, Rosie is usually where you get your clothes from. She’s a sweetheart when she isn’t picking pieces of muscle from her teeth, that sharp smile is a killer! She loves to talk about Alastor with you, and usually she’s where you go after you two have had an argument. You’re also her personal Barbie doll. She puts you in outfits and she and Alastor judge over them. Nine times out of ten you leave her boutique with a new wardrobe every time.

Now let’s talk about Vox.

Honestly the whole reason Vox knows about you is probably because he was digging through Alastors shit. But when he sees you? Oh lord, this man is HOOKED.

He doesn’t even know how Alastor managed to get you entangled with him. He finds out about you when you and Alastor aren’t dating yet, and he basically jumps at his chance to try to be with you.

Vox will forever consider you the one that got away, you can’t change my mind.

Alastor has proven time and time again that he’s basically better than Vox. He took a seven year back, came on the radio one day and boom all his viewers were back. In Alastors mind there’s no competition, just Vox being obsessed with the fact Alastor said no.

Valentino uses it against Vox all the time, and it will always make Vox buffer.

#hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin demon #alastor #Alastor and vox #Hazbin hotel #helluva boss vox #hazbin hotel rosie #hazbin valentino #charlie morningstar #hazbin niffty

[bluejeanstrash]

tags: boyfriend! seungcheol x reader, domestic scenes, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of marriage | wc: 744

‘is he okay?’ 

‘mmm’ seungcheol nods, carefully closing the door behind him. ‘he’ll be fine. he fell asleep but i’ve kept the puke bucket next to the bed incase he needs it’ 

‘cheollie, we really need to throw that thing’ you make a face, thinking about how many times it had been used. 

‘yeah, but people keep throwing up in our house!’ 

‘that’s because you keep making them drink way too much!’ seungcheol’s “home bar” was 3 bottles short of a liquor store. he was extremely proud of his collection and very generous with it, offering offensively expensive drinks to any and every guest that entered your home.

tonight, passed out in the guest room was hoshi, who had been taken out midway through his fourth drink. he hadn’t even made it to the dinner part of the dinner party you both were hosting.

seungcheol pouts in response, picking up a dirty glass left on the bar ‘do you want me to do the dishes, my love?’ 

‘nope, i’ve got it. can you clean up and take out the trash instead?’ he gets on it right away, pausing for a second to rub your shoulders when bringing the glass over. a second turns into a minute, and the rub into a mini massage as his fingers move deftly, kneading all those little knots away.

‘thank you baby, i needed that’ you sigh, and the next thing you know his arms are wrapped around you, his chin resting on the slope of your shoulder ‘you know what was really nice today?’ 

‘hmmn?’ 

‘you know when joshua’s friend…mark? yeah, mark. when he thought we were married’

it was first time it had ever happened. ‘so, how did you and your husband meet?’ mark had asked.

‘oh, he’s my boyfriend’ you had corrected him and moved on, but seungcheol was stuck right there. boyfriend? no, that just wasn’t going to cut it for him anymore. why would he ever want to be called your boyfriend when he could be your husband instead? a demotion, really.

‘i liked it. a lot. husband-’ he presses a kiss to the warm skin of your neck ‘-and wife’, and another, before pulling you into him. he brings his arm forward to turn off the tap before turning you around to face him.

‘what do you say? should we do it? get married?’ each question asked in between little pecks.

‘if this is your idea of a proposal-’

he chuckles, circling back ‘get married. make you my wife. get you…pregnant’ seungcheol feels a little giddy honestly, giddy at his own words. he’s already made up his mind — he wants this future, and only with you.

‘you want to put a baby in me?’ you tease, starting to feel a little hot under your clothes.

‘oh, i want to put many, many babies in you’ he mutters, his lips parting yours, impatient hands coming around to untie the knot of your apron.

‘want to put one in you right now...’ he grabs your ass to lift you up, your legs wrapping around him instantly. you pull off your rubber gloves, tossing them aside and lock your arms around his neck. you kiss him, a little needily, tugging at his hair to let him know you need him right here, right now. he turns around to take you to the kitchen island, opening his eyes for a second to see hoshi — hoshi who’s discreetly trying to make his way out of the kitchen.

‘shit!’ seungcheol’s grip on you loosens abruptly before he catches you, carefully putting you down.

‘sorry! i’m so sorry!’ hoshi covers his eyes, stumbling back ‘i didn’t see anything. i just..i threw up..in that bucket thing and didn’t know what to do with it’

‘it’s fine, it’s fine. go to the room. i’m coming’ seungcheol takes a second to calm himself down, taking deep breaths to redirect his blood flow.

‘this is what it’s going to be like with a kid, you know’ you joke, bending to grab the fallen gloves which doesn’t help his raging boner at all ‘at least hoshi can clean up after himself up. who’s going to clean up our child’s projectile vomit?’

there’s a moment of silence.

‘not it’

‘not it!’

you both giggle — you turning back to do the dishes, and seungcheol going to check up on hoshi, both of you back in the moment, dreaming of the future to come.

#random drabble to get back into writing #scoups fluff #seungcheol fluff #seungcheol smut #scoups smut #seungcheol x reader #scoups x reader #scoups #choi seungcheol

[adventuringblind]

American Sweetheart

Logan Sargeant x Reader

Genre: Fluff and Crack

Summary: Max isn't sure about this new American rookie on the grid. Not that he isn't nice, just that he likes Max's baby sister. Featuring Lestappen being a married couple.

Warnings: Protective Max, sarcastically protective Daniel, Logan being a SIMP

Notes: Yay! Logan Fluff! I've not written for Logan yet, but I honestly love him... He's such a pookie...

Side Note: My requests are still open! If you've sent in a request, please remember I do this for fun and will try to get around to it when I can :)

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

Max looks at her with big pleading eyes. "Please tell me who it is?" He pouts, sticking out his bottom lip.

"No, because you'll torture him. I'd like to keep this one alive thank you." She puts the finishing touches on her makeup.

"I left the last one alive... barely, but that's not the point!"

"So if I tell you, then you won't freak out?"

"I swear it on my career-"

"It's Logan."

Max goes silent. Frozen in place as her tries to comprehend her words. The death stare at the ground tells her he's internally screaming.

She sighs, mildly worried that Max might actually scream profanities until Logan arrives. "Alright, what's your issue with this one?"

"He's American!"

She groans. It doesn't matter much where he's from, as long as he treats her right. Logan's been struggling since he came to the grid. It would make a difference if max accepted him and not just Oscar and Lando, by proxy.

"Give him a chance, please? For me?"

Max stars at her for longer than necessary. "Fine."

~~~~~

Logan appears at her door dressed in semi-formal attire. He takes in her appearance. "You look - wow..." There is a light blush on his face. It feels nice seeing as she's in something simple and modest. Just what she had to work with given she's living out of her suitcase.

They catch up on the paddock drama and how life has been going recently. Logan is a proper gentleman the entire time. She's not sure why she thought he would be any different. Logan has always been sweet to anyone he comes in contact with.

Their date goes incredibly well.

As does the second.

And the third...

Max stares at her as she sits in his room, giggling at her phone. She has no time to react as he snatches it from her hands. "Logan?! You're still talking to him?!"

She huffs and crosses her arms. "Yes, Max, I like him."

"He's American." He tosses the phone back at her. "Just let me talk to him." Max gives her puppy eyes. "Please."

"You can talk to him whenever, but if you ruin this for me, I'll break your wrists."

Max makes it his personal mission to figure out Logan through not talking to him. She has taking to simply rolling her eyes as Max drags Daniel around with him to stare at the poor boy.

Until he catches them in the paddock together and puts on the 'Mad Max' face. Logan immediately seems to shrink in on himself.

"Okay Sargeant, it's time you and I had a little discussion about your intentions with my sister." Max hauls him upwards by his bicep and Logan goes willingly like an injured puppy.

She throws him a reassuring smile and pray to Charles Leclerc that Max doesn't scare him away.

~~~~~

Max and Daniel sit across the table from Logan. He thought asking her out would be the hardest part. No, he was mistaken, this is far worse.

The Dutch has been staring daggers at him since they sat down. Daniel keeps wiggling his eyebrows like her knows something Logan doesn't. Which - despite it seeming playful - only puts Logan more on edge than he was before.

"So, Mr. America-"

"Is that really-"

"Quiet! I'm the one doing the talking here."

Logan wants to roll his eyes. He wants to run into next year if it means avoiding this conversation. "Look Max-"

"I need to know you aren't going to americanify my sister." He points an accusatory finger between Logan's eyes.

Logan reels, and Daniel finally breaks all composure. The Aussie is laughing hysterically. "Mate, what does that even mean?!"

"Look, your American ways are not ours. I will not be seeing her calling things like American football, real football."

Logan sinks into his chair. The relief evident on his face.

He's about to jump into a spiel about how he would never expect her to just assimilate into his culture. That was never his plan. However, he's doesn't get the chance.

A figure dressed in Ferrari red comes stomping around the corner. "Max Emilian!" Charles screams out for anyone to hear.

Max shrinks in on himself. Daniel is almost falling out of his chair as Charles stomps his way over. "Why are we interrogating the poor boy?" He crosses his arms like an exasperated mother.

"Because my sister-"

"Your sister was in my room pacing and ranting that you were going to scare away another boyfriend."

Max has a look of shame on his face. Cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. "But Charlie-"

"Nope. Not gonna work. Let's go." Charles grabs Max by the bicep and drags him away. The Dutch pouts until he's out of sight.

Logan looks at Daniel, who's finally calmed down. "Are they-?"

"Married? Yes, for like two years now. They are still convinced nobody knows." Daniel leans forward in his chair, and Logan once again is left feeling intimidated. "But seriously, kid, she's a good person. Max has always been protective over his sisters because of their home life. Just treat her right, yeah? She deserves it."

Daniel sends Logan off with an encouraging pat on the shoulder. He's never run away from something so fast before. Not out of fear, no, he just needs to see her. Reassure the female that Max is less intimidating when Charles is around.

He finds her pacing outside of Williams' hospitality. Logan runs right up to her, picks her up in his arms, and spins her around.

"I take it Max was nice to you?"

"Your brother is an interesting character, but nothing would stop me from loving you."

She blushes profusely. "You love me?"

Logan rests his forhead against hers. He can't wipe the smile off his face when he looks at her. "Of course I do! And nobody is going to stop me from feeling the way I do."

She hastily lands her lips onto Logan's , not caring about who's around to see. It's just them in their own little world.

She pulls away just enough to whisper against his lips. "I love you too, Lo."

Logan has never been happier than in this moment with her in his arms and Max screeching in the distance.

#x reader #formula 1 #f1 fic #fanficion #f1 fanfic #max verstappen #max verstappen f1 #charles leclerc f1 #daniel ricciardo 3 #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant #logan sargeant x you #logan sargeant x y/n #ls2 x reader #ls2 imagine #ls2 fluff #ls2 #williams racing #williams f1 #f1 #racing #lestappen #charles leclerc x max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #daniel ricciardo imagine #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #logan sargeant f1 #logan sargeant fluff

[corroded-hellfire]

Steve having a little sister (who’s like a first-time) senior who has a crush on Eddie. But she’s a cheerleader, her parents expect her to marry an Ivy League, senator’s son or something. She kept her crush a secret until Jason calls him a freak in front of the whole cafeteria- and she punches him.

I had so much fun writing this request! I hope you enjoy what I've come up with, and if you notice the joke I stole from Glee, no you didn't. Reader’s race is not specified and she could be adopted because adoption is a wonderful, amazing thing. Harrington!reader and Eddie 4ever.

Words: 3.1k

“Mr. Munson, late again, I see.” 

Mrs. O’Donnell heaves a disappointed sigh as Eddie gives her an over the top smile.

“Sorry, had a meeting with the principal. He wanted to know why you gave me detention again.”

Mrs. O’Donnell frowns. “I didn’t give you detention.”

“Oh, phew,” Eddie says as he slides into his seat. “Glad to hear it. I’ll try and be on time next time.” 

The class lets out a titter of laughter as Mrs. O’Donnell rolls her eyes and turns back to the board. The dopey grin is stuck on your face as you lean forward in your seat. Resting your upper body on your desk, you bite your bottom lip as you look Eddie up and down. From your vantage point, you can only see the back left side of him, but you’ll stare at that for the entirety of the class period if you can. 

“Miss Harrington?”

Begrudgingly, you tear your gaze away from Eddie’s glorious hair and see Mrs. O’Donnell watching you impatiently. 

“Um, yes?”

“I was wondering if you’d like to enlighten us about the Stamp Act?” the elderly woman says. 

“Uh…” you trail off, mind suddenly blank of everything that isn’t Eddie Munson. “I would not.”

A few people in the class let out snorts of laughter, but Eddie barks out the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard. It makes your stomach fizzle, and your head feel all floaty. Even O’Donnell’s disapproving scowl can’t dampen your giddiness. 

The rest of class, you’re riding on a high. You made Eddie laugh. Out of all the accomplishments in your life, you’re not sure if one has ever meant more to you. Making honor roll? Eh. Becoming a cheerleader? So what? Doesn’t compare to making the cutest guy you’ve ever seen laugh.

Okay, you tell yourself. When class is over, you’re going to talk to him. The bell rings, and you’re scrambling to get your things together. Tossing them into your bag, you sling it over your shoulder and follow Eddie out of the classroom. 

“H-Hey, Eddie?” you manage.

He turns his head to look over his shoulder and gives you a smile that has your heart stuttering.

“Hey, Harrington. What’s up?”

“Did you see A Nightmare on Elm Street Part 2?” you ask, somehow not stumbling over your words. You’d had Steve bring the VHS tape home for you to watch just so you could ask Eddie about it.

“Freddy’s Revenge?” Eddie asks, wrinkling his nose up. “Such a letdown after the first one.”

“Yeah,” you say with a chuckle. “The first one was pretty good. This one made me want to fall asleep.”

“Ironic,” Eddie says with a smirk. He opens the school door for you, and you give him a grateful smile as you step out into the parking lot. You watch as he digs his keys out of his pocket. “See you tomorrow, Harrington.”

“Bye, Eddie.” You’re staring at him as he walks away, and you know you need to stop. But how can you when his ass looks the way it does in his jeans? Once he hops into his van, the trance is broken, and you make your way to your brother waiting in his car at the other end of the parking lot. 

You groan as you yank open the car door and slip inside. Steve looks less than thrilled himself, but it has nothing to do with you. Your parents are forcing the two of you to join them at a company party tonight, which both of you are vehemently against. But Steve was tasked with picking you up from school, taking you home so both of you can get ready, then to the party. 

“Think I can fake an epileptic seizure and get out of this?” Steve asks on the way home.

“You’re not epileptic,” you say.

“That’s why I said ‘fake’ it,” Steve says with a scoff. 

“They’d find a way to make you come anyway,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest. 

The party is just as horrible as you and your older brother imagined it would be. You’re forced into an itchy blue dress and Steve looks like he’s about two seconds away from ripping his tie off. The stuffy guests walk around with their noses in the air, only deigning to talk to those they deem successful enough. You want to throw yourself out of one of the windows as you see your parents approaching you with an older couple that they’ll probably expect you to remember from somewhere. 

“Well, look at you,” the older man says. “All grown up.” The way he says it makes a shiver go down your spine. 

“You must have all the boys chasing after you,” his wife says with a wink. It’s like they’re competing to see who can make you the most uncomfortable. Before you can open your mouth to speak, your mom jumps in.

“Oh, we have high hopes for her,” she says with a chuckle. “Going to go to Yale or Stanford and find her an Ivy League man to settle down with.”

And when exactly did we decide this? you think to yourself. 

“Someone well-to-do,” your father adds. “A senator’s son, maybe. Who knows? We could be raising a future First Lady here.”

You want to gag. Steve must sense your temper rising, because he rests a hand on your shoulder and gives it a reassuring squeeze. 

“Remember us when you’re famous,” the older man says. 

I don’t even remember you right now. The words are on the tip of your tongue, but your dad changes the subject to something about profit reports. 

Steve drives the two of you home before your parents, the two of them insisting they were going to stick around a little longer. The minute you get into your room, you throw your heels towards your closet. Your brother hears you banging around and comes to stand in your doorway, leaning against the doorframe and crossing his arms over his chest. He’s taken his tie off and undone the first few buttons of his white button up shirt. 

“What’s the matter, First Lady? Didn’t like getting signed up for an arranged marriage?”

You whirl on him, practically shoving a finger in his face. “Do not call me that. I am not some prized pig they can sell at the fair.”

“Technically, I think the pigs are judged at the fair, not sold.”

Groaning, you rub your hands down your face. 

“I’m running away,” you say, throwing your hands in the air. “I’m joining the circus. Or a motorcycle gang. Anything! As long as it’s not here.”

“Oh, relax,” Steve says. “When you go off to college you can date whoever you want. They’ll never know.”

“Why do I have to wait until I go off to college?” you demand. “Why can’t I date whoever I want right now?”

“Do you want to date someone right now?” Steve asks, furrowing his brows.

“That’s not the point,” you say, but you feel the heat rising to your cheeks.

“Holy shit, you do,” Steve says with a huff of laughter. He pushes himself off the doorframe. “Who is it?”

“Goodnight, Steve.” You shove him out of your doorway before slamming and locking your bedroom door. 

“The fuck did you say, Freak?”

Jason Carver’s voice grates on your nerves as you make your way down the hall. Unfortunately, there’s only one person the jock douche would be calling that name and it has you seeing red. You were still steamed from your parents’ comments last night, and this is just going to push you over the top.

“Who, me?” 

You walk into the cafeteria to see Eddie grinning at the basketball playing asshole.

“You’re the only freak here,” Jason says.

Your white cheer sneakers squeak to a stop on the linoleum floor, and you drop your bag down by your feet. The clatter has Jason’s gaze shifting to you. Most of the cafeteria’s attention shifts to you, actually. But you don’t notice as you stalk up to the bully. Normally, you might say something snarky to him, but you’re done with words. All your pent up frustration is taken out on Jason’s chin as you serve him a right hook. He stumbles back a few steps and there are gasps around the cafeteria. Your hand is throbbing, but the pain is nothing compared to the satisfaction you feel at shutting that jerk up. The small smear of blood above his upper lip has you smirking.

“Miss Harrington!”

With a groan, your satisfaction wanes when you see Principal Higgins glaring at you. His glasses are perched low on his nose and his hands are high on his hips.

“My office. Now.”

Thankfully, Principal Higgins’s secretary is kind enough to give you some ice to put on your knuckles. Some staffing emergency took precedence, so you’re stuck sitting on a bench outside his office while he deals. 

“You’ve got some arm.”

The voice that you’d know anywhere sounds from above you and your neck cracks from how quickly you look up. Eddie stands there with his hands in his pockets, a sheepish smile on his lips. 

“Oh. T-Thanks,” you say. 

Eddie takes a seat next to you on the bench. He yanks a black bandana out of his back pocket and smooths it out across his lap before folding it lengthwise. 

“May I?” he asks, gesturing to the ice you’re holding against your hand. 

“Sure.” You extend your injured hand out, and Eddie secures the ice against your knuckles with the bandana, then ties it tight enough to keep everything in place.

“How’s that?” he asks. 

“Better. Thank you.” You find it hard to meet his eyes, so you keep your focus on your hand as you bring it back into your lap. 

“So,” Eddie says, turning himself sideways on the bench and making himself comfortable. “What made you punch ol’ Carver? I mean, I know we all want to do it, but no one’s been quite so brave. Not until you, that is. And from a cheerleader? One of his own?”

“I’m not one of his own,” you say, looking up at him. But Eddie has a playful smirk on his lips.

“Nah, I know you’re not. I’m just teasing you. But what did want to make you do that? Couldn’t have been all on my account.”

“Why not?” you ask with a frown.

Eddie lets out a chuckle and shakes his head. “Listen, Harrington. I don’t see you as someone who goes around punching people for the hell of it. You’re one of the nicest people in this hell hole of a town. The jackass must’ve done something to deserve it.”

“He did,” you say. “He called you a freak.”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” he says, leaning in towards you with a conspiratorial whisper. “But most people do.”

“Well, they shouldn’t,” you say with a frown. “You’re not. And I hate how Jason always does it in front of a crowd. It’s like he needs to put you down in front of others to prove he’s this king or whatever. So, someone needed to knock him off his throne in front of people, too.”

“My knight in shining cheer skirt,” Eddie teases with a wink. He’s shocked when your face goes red and you’re unable to look him in the eye. “You okay?”

“Y-Yeah,” you say, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. The heat in your face is getting worse by the second and you feel it’s only a matter of time before you crack. 

“You sure? I didn’t make you uncomfortable?”

God, that’s the last thing Eddie could ever make you feel. You immediately shake your head, refusing to let him think those thoughts even for a moment. 

“No, no, not at all. I’m sorry, I guess I’m just an…awkward person,” you say with a wince. 

“Maybe I like awkward,” Eddie says, gently kicking his black boot against your white sneaker. Butterflies erupt in your stomach, and they have plenty of room to buzz about, seeing as you hadn’t gotten to eat your lunch.

“Maybe I like awkward, too,” you say softly. 

Eddie smirks. “Oh, then you must adore me, Harrington.”

“Maybe I do,” you say with a shrug, forcing yourself to maintain eye contact with him. 

“Well, maybe I like sweet, pretty cheerleaders who can sucker punch like Bruce Lee and talk to me about horror movies.”

Your mind stopped listening after Eddie called you “pretty” though. Did he really think that? Or was he just saying it to be nice? 

“Hmm,” you muse. “Guess I should send Hailey Hudson from the team your way to talk about Halloween then, huh?”

Eddie chuckles and the same sensation as when you made him laugh before fills your body. 

“Nightmare on Elm Street is more my cup of tea,” Eddie says. “Plus, talking to any other cheerleader bedsides you doesn’t seem very appealing to me.”

“Miss Harrington,” Principal Higgins says, sticking his head out of his office. “You can come in now.” He steps back inside, and you release a sigh. Of course talking to Eddie would have to come to an end eventually, but why now?

“Well,” you say, standing up from the bench. “Guess it’s time to hear my sentence.”

“Maybe if you get released early for good behavior, we could grab pizza sometime?” Eddie looks nervous, and that alone makes you want to laugh. Why on earth would he be nervous asking if you wanted to hang out? 

“That sounds great,” you say, the euphoric smile unable to stay off your face no matter how hard you try. 

“Yeah?” Eddie asks, seeming shocked. 

“Why do you sound surprised?” you ask with a giggle. Taking courage from the fact that he seems to be getting nervous around you as well, you decide to be a little bolder. “I don’t just throw punches for anyone, you know.”

The most endearing smile grows on Eddie’s face, and he places one of his ring-clad hands over his heart. 

“I am very honored to have the most beautiful girl in school defending my honor.” He outstretches his hand out to you as you begin to walk backwards towards the principal’s office. “I’ll wait for you.” 

You can’t help but giggle. “I’ll have my parole officer contact you.”

“Should be easy since I’m in the phone book.”

“I’ll make sure to let her know. Bye, Munson.”

“See you later, Harrington.” He gives you one last smile before you step into the office.

The worst part isn’t the detention you were given or that you have to apologize to Carver. It’s that you’re told to call your parents to come and get you. Apparently, the school nurse is out for the day, and they can’t have you staying in school with a potentially injured hand. It hardly even hurts anymore, but you’re not going to let them know that. Let them think that you’ll be headed to the hospital for all you care. 

When you pick up the phone from the desk, your finger hovers over the numbers. Principal Higgins is sitting right there, making sure you’re going to tell your parents exactly why you need to be picked up. At the last second though, you dial a different number. 

“Thank you for calling Family Video, this is Steve. How can I help you?”

“Uh, hi, Dad,” you say, gripping at the receiver pressed against your ear. 

“Dad?” you hear Steve ask in confusion. “This is—”

“I-I know,” you say. “I’m just calling, Dad, because I need you to pick me up from school. I’m in Principal Higgins’ office. 

You can tell Steve understands now by the sigh that comes across the line. “What did you do?”

“Well, my hand is injured, and the nurse isn’t on duty today, so they don’t want me staying at school while I’m hurt and no one can check it out.”

“Tell him why it’s injured,” Principal Higgins says.

“Yes, tell me,” Steve echoes, obviously being able to hear his former principal’s words.

“I, um, I punched Jason Carver,” you say.

“You did what?!” Steve all but screams.

“He called Eddie Munson a freak in front of the whole cafeteria.” You say this piece looking Higgins dead in the eye. Are you going to do anything about that? you want to ask. “So, I punched Carver to shut him up.”

“Honestly, I’m impressed,” Steve says. 

“Thanks. So, uh, can you come get me?”

“My shift is over in ten minutes,” Steve says. “I’ll head there as soon as I get out of here.”

“Thanks, St—uh, Dad. I’ll see you soon.” You hang up the phone and Principal Higgins stares at you over the rims of his glasses.

“He on his way?” he asks.

“He’ll be here soon.”

“I can’t believe you punched Jason Carver,” Steve says, shaking his head in amusement as he drives you home. 

“He’s an asshole,” you defend with a shrug. 

“Over Munson, though?” Steve asks incredulously. “Seriously? Couldn’t have picked another hill to die on?”

“Nope,” you say through gritted teeth. Crossing your arms over your chest, you stare out the passenger window. 

“Why Munson, though, I—” Steve cuts himself off with a groan and shakes his head. “Oh, no. Please tell me I’m wrong.” 

“I’d love to,” you reply. “But I need to know what you’re wrong about first.”

“Munson isn’t the guy you want to date, is he?” Steve asks nervously.

Your face gets hot for what feels like the millionth time in the past few days. But that’s all the confirmation your brother needs, because he’s letting out a groan that makes it sound like he’s in agony.

“You really have a thing for the Freak?”

“I have one good fist left,” you say. “Want me to use it on you?”

“I’ll tell Mom and Dad about your detention then,” Steve says with a shrug.

“Then I’d tell them about you moving the dirty magazines from beneath your bed into the air vent,” you counter.

“How do you even know about that?” Steve asks, shooting you a glare before looking back at the road. 

“Your room and mine share the same vent and I can hear the pages rustling when the air is on.”

“You’re the worst,” Steve grumbles. 

“You also have no room to complain with some of the trash you’ve dated,” you point out. 

“Are you and Munson…a thing?” Steve asks, sounding like he hates every syllable of the question.

“No,” you tell him. “But he asked me to go get pizza with him. So, maybe soon.”

“And that will make you happy?” your brother asks.

A smile comes to your face just thinking about it. “It would.”

Steve nods his head and lets out a deep breath as if he’s resigning himself to the fact that you have feelings for Eddie. 

“Okay, but you’re telling Mom and Dad.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x harrington!reader #harrington!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfic #request

[redrose10]

Here is chapter 1! I hope you like it. Chapter 2 will come out in a few days. Comments are appreciated!

Yoongi X Female Reader. CEO/Arranged Marriage AU

Summary: You were selected to marry the wayward CEO/Billionaire/Heir, Min Yoongi. You went into it with an open mind and heart determined to try and make it work. Yoongi on the other hand had no intention of ever letting you in let alone allowing himself to fall in love with you. Slowly you start to associate the smell of cinnamon and vanilla with the feelings of hurt and sorrow.

Word Count: 1,693

Warnings: (May get updated as chapters progress): Arranged marriage, cheating/infidelity, hints of smut (Probably won’t get very explicit but we’ll see how it goes), Sexual Assault, Brief mentions of death, Reader grew up an orphan, General Angst, Swearing

The weather outside did not match the feeling in the conference room. Outside the window you saw the bright sunny sky, not a cloud in sight. You longed for the warmth to touch your skin. Inside this room you felt cold. The walls were a dark cherry mahogany. A marble sculpture of a horse sat in the corner. You’re sure it cost more than a years worth salary for you. You chewed on your lip, a nervous habit you developed at some point. Everyone was patiently waiting for the same person to arrive so you could finally get this over with. Never would you have imagined you’d be in a position like this. Being married off to a man you’d never met. You knew of him of course. Who didn’t? Min Yoongi was the CEO of one of the largest tech companies in the world. He was the sole heir to a large fortune being that the Min family was one of the most powerful and wealthiest families in all of Asia. He was dangerously handsome with an arrogant attitude. A womanizer who was constantly in the media and not in a positive way. Just a few months ago we was caught on camera being tossed out of a club for punching the bartender. The video showed him staggering around so drunk he could barely stand straight. He shouted some choice words before shoving three random women into the back of his Rolls Royce and having the driver speed off. Of course the poor bartender didn’t even file any charges knowing he’d never win against the Min family power and money.

Shareholders started worrying about Yoongi’s ability to lead the company, some even demanding he step down. People were uncertain if they should invest in a company run by a sloppy drunk with clear emotional baggage. Stocks in Min Enterprises began to plummet which meant the Min family money started to dwindle and only then did they decide it was time to step in. Which is how you ended up here, sitting across from Yoongi’s parents and some of the other higher ranking officials at Min Enterprises. They had come to the conclusion that it was time for Yoongi to settle down. He needed to find a nice wholesome woman who could help him clean up his image, turn his life around, maybe have a future heir and turn himself into a well respected family man. The problem with that was that Yoongi had never lasted more than a couple weeks with any woman since he was about 19. Often going for quick hookups with women he met at clubs or random models he got ahold of that just wanted to use his name to further their career. In his mind it was easier. No strings attached. No chance of falling in love. No heartbreak. Just sex and send them on their way.

You were a simple girl. You didn’t come from money or power. You loved flowers, blue hydrangeas were your favorite. You often enjoyed a mug of warm milk before bed or maybe some chamomile tea if you were feeling adventurous. Most of your clothes were thrifted and definitely not name brands. You’d only ever had one serious boyfriend and less than four flings. You were the exact opposite of Yoongi and the women you often saw him photographed with.

Which is exactly why the Min family thought you were the perfect match to save their wayward son and bring a good reputation back to the Min name. You had no one else to thank but your old college roommate and best friend Jimin. After graduation he moved away but you kept in touch with each other. One day you get a voicemail from your friend asking you to come visit him in Korea. After calling him back and him assuring you the trip was all expenses paid by himself you agreed. Little did you know of the secret motive. Jimin had moved to Seoul after graduation, quickly getting a job at Min Enterprises. He started as just an assistant to Yoongi’s assistant. Over time Jimin was able to work his way up and was now a member of the board of directors and one of Yoongi’s best friends. When Jimin heard of the Min family plan he immediately thought of you and threw your name into the contenders ring as a potential suitor for Yoongi. You had recently complained about wanting to get out of your small town and Jimin recalled several instances where you mentioned your ever failing love life and non existent bank account so what better way to get around that than to marry a handsome young billionaire.

Your thoughts were interrupted when someone cleared their throat. Looking up you were greeted by the handsome face of Kim Seokjin, one of the Min family lawyers. “Can we be expecting Yoongi any time today?”, he asked probably more sarcastically than he had planned. As the elder Mr. Min started reaching for his phone the large double doors swung open and swiftly slammed shut as the man you were all waiting for stomped over and took his seat next to you, clearly agitated at having to be there.

You knew that Yoongi was handsome, most of the world knew that, but seeing him in person was different than any photos you’d ever seen. Soft perfect skin, piercing cat like eyes, silky jet black hair that he had started to let grow out. He was wearing a fitted dark green suit that probably cost more than every piece of clothing you owned. His cologne intoxicating, a mix of cinnamon and vanilla. He smelled like comfort and warmth.

When he realized you were staring at him he looked over at you turning to a face of disgust before shaking his head and turning his attention back to the lawyer, “Jin, can we get this over with? I have more important events to attend to.” You watched the lawyer lay out several sheets of paper in front of the two of you. “Right so these are the basics of the contract. It’s pretty standard. The Min family will release an official statement announcing the marriage of their only son Yoongi and Miss Y/N. The wedding will take place shortly after.” You watched as Jin turned to you placing an additional paper down in front of you and pointing to the stipulations as he read them off, “Y/N you will take the Min last name. You will move into Yoongi’s penthouse. You will agree to attend all social and/or professional functions with Yoongi and occasionally you will have to go alone as the Min representative. You will be given a credit card to make any and all purchases for any thing you need or want. And lastly you will uphold a satisfactory image as to not taint the Min image. Also please be aware that a divorce is not an option and the contract will only become nullified in the event that either Yoongi or Y/N were to pass away leaving the other as a widow.” You nodded in understanding while staring down at the list of demands in front of you. Things could be worse you thought but this still wasn’t ideal, especially not having the option for a divorce.

Jin turned his attention over to Yoongi placing a similar paper down in front of him and going over his stipulations which were much simpler than yours, basically don’t get caught with other women and don’t get drunk in public. You scoffed knowing that he would struggle to uphold his end of the contract. You were blindsided though when Jin read off the final stipulation, “After the wedding Yoongi will make an initial donation in his and Y/N’s name in the amount of $5 million US dollars to ‘Little Rays of Sunshine Orphanage’ in Y/N’s hometown. Then he will make an additional $1 million donation every year thereafter for the duration of the marriage.” Your lips turned up into a small smile. You had jokingly told Jimin that you’d agree to this whole ordeal if Yoongi donated a large amount of money to the orphanage that you grew up in. You didn’t think he’d actually get it done but you were a little relieved knowing that at least going through with this was going to benefit many children in need. You made a mental note to thank Jimin later. Deep in your thoughts you hadn’t noticed how Yoongi had looked over at you with furrowed brows questioning that request.

Jin placed a pen down in front of you before clapping his hands together, “Alright now that that’s out of the way the two of you just need to sign and date here and here and we can all go on with our day.” Trying your best to hide your shaking hand you gently grasped the ivory pen taking a deep breath before signing away your life to this man you met less than 15 minutes ago. Handing the pen over to Yoongi he glared at you before releasing a loud sigh and roughly taking the pen from your grasp signing away his name. Once it was done Mrs. Min began to speak but was cutoff by Yoongi loudly pushing his chair back and slamming the pen down on the glass table, “I have places to be.” And with that he stormed out of the room loudly slamming the door behind him. Mr. And Mrs. Min along with the rest of the elders followed not long after giving you a nod goodbye. You looked up to Jin who gave you an apologetic smile. He patted your hand as he continued to pack up his belongings, “He’ll come around Y/N. Just give it some time. He puts on a tough act but underneath that harsh exterior is really a sweet kid who got lost along the way.” Going into this you thought maybe this could actually work out and the two of you could at the very least pretend to love each other. Now, after meeting for the first time, you’re not so sure.

#yoongi x reader #bts #bts yoongi #yoongi x y/n #yoongi fanfic #yoongi angst #ceo au #arranged marriage au #yoongi fic #bts fanfic #suga #min yoongi #yoongi #bts x reader

[bloatedandalone04]

Illicit Affairs

➪the one where leon is yours entirely, even though he is married to someone else.

Warnings: cheating, affairs, swearing, unprotected sex, fluffy sex, mentions of cheating, angst, smut, toxic relationships, small amount of ada slander since that is actually a warning i found out, mentions of divorce and all that fun stuff

Word Count: 3.3k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

Left the door unlocked, just in case. I hope you had a good day.

That was the text Leon is met with as he enters the house he shared with his wife. His thumbs ghosted over the screen, his mind trying to come up with a good enough answer that wouldn’t leave you feeling cheap. There was nothing he could say through text, he decided, and he ended up pocketing his phone and heading towards his bedroom. 

Ada was sitting against the headboard, picking at her freshly painted red nails with a dangerous glint in her eyes. Her engagement and wedding rings reflected off the bedside table lamp, and Leon wished he cared enough to remember where he had placed his own wedding band after taking it off many weeks ago, but it held no meaning to him. “Late again, Leon,” she muttered, glaring at him as he entered the room. “What was it this time?” 

Leon huffed as he walked towards the dresser. “Work,” he answered and he was being completely truthful, not that she’d ever believe him - which is quite hypocritical, if he had to be honest. He was well aware of the many times she came home late, and the many more times she never came home at all. She was just as bad as him, maybe even worse. “Like last time.”

Ada scoffed, tossing the sheets over her body and crossing her arms. “Liar,” 

She was trying to get under his skin, something she has always been able to do, even back when he was twenty one years old. Now at the age of twenty eight, he had no idea why he still continues to put himself through this. 

He was so sure that what he felt for the woman was love, but after four years with her, he quickly found out that it was lust. He met her when he was just starting out and had no idea what love even was, but he knew that it wasn’t what he felt for her. 

At first he was infatuated with her. It was a cat and mouse game that left him feeling like he could never truly and fully have her, and that was still true to this day. 

He married her, and yet she still wasn’t his. 

The guys she met at the bar. The men she ran into on missions. The rookies who had information she wanted, but didn’t need. She was all of theirs, as well as Leon’s, but never in full. 

Leon kept his back to her as he rolled his eyes and rummaged around in his drawer. “Whatever, Ada,” he muttered, grabbing his grey sweats before opening another drawer. 

“Don’t whatever me, Leon,” she seethed. “Don’t act like you haven’t been sneaking around on me. We both know you have. Some poor, naive girl who thinks you’re actually into her but probably doesn’t even know you’re married to me.”

Leon hated the way she was talking about you, and she was once again getting under his skin. He slams the drawer shut loudly after grabbing a black tee, turning towards his wife with a fire in his eyes. “You’re one to talk,” he growls. “You’ve been sleeping around since before we even got married. You haven’t changed, and I was dumb enough to believe you would.”

Ada’s eyes widened a bit but she tried to hide it by sitting up a little straighter.

He caught her, though. And they both knew it. “Yeah,” he laughs, the sound lacking any humor. “Haven’t been as discreet about it as you thought, huh?”

Leon turns to leave the room, but she wasn’t done playing with him, clearly. “Oh, come on, Leon,” she called out, dropping her attitude and making her voice sound sultry. “We both know how good we are together. Just come to bed with me. We can forget all about this.” 

She pushes the sheets off her body and crawls over to him, kneeling on the bed and running her hand up his arm. “Ada-”

“Shh,” she purrs, reaching her hands up and capturing his lips in a messy kiss. He doesn’t move at all, even though he wants to pull away, he also wants to prove a point. The fact that this was the first kiss they’ve shared in months should be a clear enough sign that this was completely over. She smirks when she pulls away, licking at her slightly wet lips. “See? You feel that?”

Leon didn’t know what he was supposed to be feeling, but he knew that she was trying to coax him into bed with her so he can fuck her and then pretend like their relationship was a normal and healthy one. 

When her hand wanders down his body and is about to touch him through his jeans, his own shoots out and his fingers wrap around her wrist, successfully halting her advances. “I don’t feel a thing,” he says, his voice so serious it had her eyes narrowing as she ripped her hand away from him. 

She sat back in disgust, crossing her arms again. “You can’t leave, Leon,” she states, unaware of just how far gone he is from her control over him. He’s detached from her completely and felt nothing for her but resentment. And maybe a little anger at the years he’s wasted chasing after her when she didn’t want him at all. 

“I want a divorce, Ada,” he says, voice monotone as he turns away and leaves the room. 

She yells harsh words after him but makes no move to stop him, further proving the point that she didn’t care. And neither did he.

Leon hates how much time he’s wasted with her when he could’ve been with you. You could’ve been his, officially, had he not been so afraid to let go of something he’s spent so much of his adulthood holding onto. 

He grabs his keys from off the counter, where he had tossed them not even ten minutes ago when he arrived home, and leaves the house, his mind on you as he hastily types out a reply to you and starts his car.

-

I’m sorry.

You read the text over and over again as you lie on your side in bed. 

What was he apologizing for? For stringing you along? For promising he’s going to leave his wife but never does? For not showing up tonight? 

The night was still young, so he might still show up, but the fact still stands. 

You felt terrible. 

Leon’s marriage was an unhappy one, and you knew he found happiness with you, but he hadn’t made it official yet, nor had he broken things off with Ada yet. Was it all a lie? Does he only come to you for an easy lay? For a sense of normalcy? 

You weren’t sure you wanted the answer. 

Falling in love with him was slowly breaking your heart, but you really didn’t have a choice. Leon was every girl’s dream and only became unfaithful when he grew sick of the lonely nights where his wife went off and fucked half the town. 

From what you know, you’re the only person he’s seeing, and that was enough for you to keep on inviting him to come over and escape from that environment. 

How Ada could ever take him for granted was beyond you. 

You shut off your phone and set it on the nightstand beside you after reading the time. It was nearing twelve in the morning and you were beginning to feel a bit like an idiot after sending that text to him. 

It was an invitation to stay at your house, and you even threw in a dumb line about his day, all because you knew Ada didn’t care enough to ask him that herself. 

As you begin to get more comfortable in bed, the sound of the front door opening then locking pierces your ears. Your mood lifts considerably at the fact that he had shown up after all, but you also knew you would be met with the same old line of ‘I’m going to break up with her, I promise’. 

You really weren’t sure how much more your heart could take. 

Quiet footsteps neared your bedroom, where the door slowly creaked open. “Y/n?” His soft voice called out and you just shifted to let him know that you were still awake. Leon kicks off his boots and drops his sweats and tee onto the top of your dresser before pulling the covers back and moving to lay behind you. “Sweetheart.”

“Hi,” you greet quietly, keeping your back to him. 

“Hi,” he says back, wrapping his arms around you. “I missed you.”

You stiffen slightly. “Did you?” You ask harshly, instantly regretting it when he doesn’t respond. You turn your head and look back at him, seeing guilt swim in his blue eyes, even in the dark room. Sighing, you turn back around. “I missed you, too.”

Leon could hear the tiredness in your voice, and he knew it wasn’t because of how late it was. He knew it was because of his broken promises of leaving his wife, but never sticking to them. Until now. “Baby,” he called softly, leaning in and pressing a kiss to the side of your head, smiling at the way you lean into his touch. “I asked for a divorce.”

That had your eyes widening and you tried to turn around, but his arms kept you still. “Really?” You ask as you settle against him once again. When he nodded and hummed, you added, “When?”

“Before I came here,” he answered, tangling his legs with yours under the sheets. 

Your lips tremble as you try not to get too ahead of yourself. “Leon,” you nearly whisper. 

“It’s over,” he confirmed, kissing your head again. “I promise, this is the last time. She doesn’t mean anything to me anymore.” 

“And me?” You felt selfish for asking, but you needed to know that you weren’t the only one feeling this between you and him. 

Leon’s hand slides under your shirt as he pulls your body closer to his. “You’re my girl,” he mumbles. “And I love you.”

Your head turns again and you keep your back to his chest as you grin. “You love me?” 

He nods, leaning in and brushing his lips against yours. “So much,” 

Reaching behind you, your hand tangles in his hair as you pull his head closer to yours. “I love you, too,” you confess, pressing your lips to his afterwards in a kiss that was all smiles. “I missed you, Leon.”

Leon runs his hand higher up your body and strokes the undersides of your breasts. “I missed you, too,” he says as he kisses along your neck. “I thought about you all day.”

“Leon,” you hummed, gripping his hair tighter as his fingers began to tease your nipples. His thumb and index finger gently pinch and pull at the buds, making your legs squeeze around his. “God.”

With the arm that is pinned under your body, his fingers continue to tease your chest while his other hand slides down your body. “I need you, sweetheart,” he nearly begs. “Please.”

He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt like this about Ada, and it was clear that you had completely changed his perspective on what a real, happy relationship looked and felt like. 

You remove your hand from his hair and wrap your fingers around his wrist, sliding his hand lower down your body until he is softly rubbing your clit through your panties. “Take me, Leon,” you request in a whisper, reaching behind you so you could gently palm him through his jeans. “I’m yours.”

Leon kisses you deeply, sliding his hand in between the lace and your skin so he could properly tease your clit. “All mine,” he stated when you pulled away and moaned. “‘M all yours, too, baby.” 

You whimper when his index finger gathered up your wetness before sinking into you knuckle deep. “Leon,” you moan quietly, struggling to unzip his jeans from the position, but somehow managing to.

“God, you’re so perfect,” he murmured, kissing your shoulder blade. He thrusts his finger a couple of times before adding his middle and allowing his thumb to rub bruising circles onto your clit. “Everything I could ever want.”

This is how it’s supposed to be. 

You never pressured him to do anything, never forced anything or broke his trust in any way. It felt so right with you, like how a relationship should. 

He didn’t have to force himself to love you, that was something that came naturally, and quite quickly. 

Running into you at that bar nearly seven months ago was one of the best things that has ever happened to him, and he wouldn’t take that day back for anything in the whole world. 

“Leon,” you moan and it’s the sweetest sound he’s ever heard. “Please, fuck, I need you.” 

“I’m right here,” he promised, kissing the side of your head as he slowed down the fucks of his hand in order to help your own rid him of his uncomfortable jeans. “You want this?” He asks, just to be sure you weren’t thinking this was all he came here for. 

Really, he would’ve been completely content with spending the night fully clothed and in your arms, but he was also more than okay with ending his day with you wrapped around him. 

“I want this,” you kiss him deeply, the angle making your neck hurt a bit but you don’t care. You kick off your panties as you ask, “Do you?”

Another thing he wasn’t used to, the question of consent that sounded so sweet coming from you. “Always,” he answered, kissing you again when you reached back and pulled him free before guiding him to your slick entrance. He slips into you with a deep groan, the quiet gasp you emit making his head spin in the best way. “I love you. I’m sorry I made you wait so long.”

You shake your head and reach back to grip his hair as he pulls your leg to rest over his. “I think I would’ve waited forever, Leon,” you confessed as he began to slowly rock into you. 

He grunted quietly at your words and felt his whole body heat up, as well as his heart begin to race. He had never felt this way before, and he was glad he had found the person to experience this with at a still young age. 

Leon didn’t ever want to let you go after the first night he met you, and that only intensified as the months went on. “Yeah?” He asked as his hand settled on your hip, his other arm wrapping tightly around you. “I can promise you this, baby, I wouldn’t have made you wait that long. But I love you for telling me that.”

You lean back and kiss him, your brows furrowing at the slow fucks of his hips. “I love you, too, Leon,” you say back, placing your hand on his that was still tightly gripping your waist. “I just want you to be happy.”

He kissed along your neck, his teeth nipping at various spots. “You make me happy,” he rasped, pulling your body impossibly closer to his as he loved on you in more ways than one. “I’ve never been happier.”

You moan at his words, your heart swelling with pride and a bit of shock at the fact that you were, it seems like, the only person who truly has his entire heart, and the only one who has made him feel like this. 

At the sound of Leon’s quiet grunts, you allow yourself to lean back and against him completely, the assurance that he was yours entirely after tonight at the front of your mind. 

“You make me happy, too,” you say as you bury the side of your face in your pillow. Leon hums in response, pushing your hair away from your neck with his nose before kissing the skin there. “Leon…can I?”

He opens his eyes and looks down at you, noting the way your head was turned so your lips were ghosting against the base of his throat. Without you even finishing your question, he knew what you were asking, and he somehow got even more turned on at your request. 

A deep grunt leaves his mouth as he nods, gripping your hip tightly and thrusting into you. “Yeah, baby,” he answered. You smile and moan quietly before kissing his neck, your lips teasing his spotless skin. He grunts again, tilting his head a bit and exposing more of his neck to you. “Do it, baby. Please.”

You give in and suck a mark onto the base of his throat, feeling the pulse of his heartbeat against your lips as you stay there for a bit. He groaned loudly, and the thought of Ada seeing the hickey when he returned back to her with divorce papers sent his mind into a frenzy. He wanted her to see it after seemingly assuming that he had no one other than her. Oh, how wrong she is.

Pulling away with a lopsided grin, you bury your face in the pillow again when he sped up the pace of his hips.  

He couldn’t wait for this to become his normal life soon. The sound of your sweet moans filling your room played on repeat in his head whenever he was away from you, and your kind smile was the only thing he thought about when he went to sleep. 

“You’re everything I want,” he promised as his hand slipped from your waist and found your clit once again. Your body shuddered against his as a loud moan left your mouth, and you reached a hand down to grip his wrist. “Everything to me.”

“Leon,” you whimper and arch your back a bit as you feel your high quickly approach. Your hand wraps tighter around his wrist as your moans increase in volume, chanting a multitude of “Please.”

“You close, sweet girl?” He asked, already knowing the answer as he felt you clench helplessly around him. 

“Yes,” you replied in a breathy whisper, pulling his hand from in between your legs and pressing it against your chest. “Please, Leon.”

He wraps his hand around your breast, his thumb rubbing against your nipple through your shirt. You cry out and he feels your walls spasm a bit as you come around him, your core sucking him in even deeper and begging him to mark it as his own. “Good girl,” he praised, kissing all along your neck while you writhe against him. “Good girl, baby.”

“Leon,” you whispered, leaning back into him again and turning your head so you can brush your lips against his. 

“I know,” he rasped, fucking you through your sensitivity. “‘M gonna come, too, baby.”

“I want it,” you begged, tangling your hand in his hair. 

And he would never deny you of something you wanted. 

He groaned and cursed under his breath, his thrusts halting altogether as he leaned down to kiss you again. You moan against his mouth, your fingers gently massaging his head as you both came down from your highs. 

When he pulled out of you, your body turned to face his. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you kiss him deeply and tangle your legs with his again. “You really mean it? It’s really over between you and her?” You ask quietly when you break the kiss, your fingers gently tracing his jawline. 

Leon turned his head and kissed your fingertips as he nodded. “It’s over, sweetheart,” he swore, kissing your forehead after. “I’m all yours. I always was.”

#re4 leon #leon smut #leon kennedy #leon re #leon s kennedy #leon #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy imagine #leon s kennedy smut #leon kennedy angst #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy imagines #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #resident evil #resident evil 4 #resident evil x reader #resident evil 2 remake #re4 remake #resident evil 4 remake

[anonymous-dentist]

Or: the morning after

-

Cellbit finds himself getting rattled awake by the sound of an unfamiliar cell phone ringing. His pillow is lumpy, he doesn't have a blanket- or does he? His legs are bare, but his shoulders feel warm enough.

Grimacing, Cellbit squints his eyes shut and desperately shoves his face into his pillow in the hopes of drowning out the noise. Why does his pillow smell like alcohol?

What happened last night? The last thing he remembers is slipping away from Bagi and Tina and finding himself a seat at their hotel's bar, and then? Absolutely nothing.

But the phone keeps ringing.

Cellbit is mildly alarmed to feel his pillow vibrate beneath him as it groans- oh, God, it's alive. He's even more alarmed when his pillow moves and pulls him with it as it rolls onto its side and buries its face in the crook of Cellbit's neck and, fuck, this isn't a pillow is it?

Cellbit forces his eyes open and nearly has a heart attack as he discovers that he is not, in fact, in his hotel room. This isn't his bed. That isn't his window- his room isn't nice enough to have a fucking balcony attached to it.

...Those aren't his pants strewn carelessly across the floor just inches from the bed. That isn't his shirt, either.

Oh, God.

Cellbit's pillow, now Cellbit's blanket, which is probably an actual, real, living, genuine, breathing human person, nuzzles their nose into Cellbit's skin with a pleased, sleepy hum.

Cellbit absently looks down at the hands wrapped around his middle, and his stomach sharpens as he sees a shiny gold ring.

Fuck, they're married?

It's then that Cellbit notices the shiny gold ring on his own finger, his hand splayed next to his face carelessly. He stares at it in both shock and horror and an equal measure of mortification.

Fuck, they're married?

The phone is still ringing. Cellbit can see it on the floor next to his... spouse? Next to his... next to the person's pants. Its screen is lit up, showing off a wallpaper of a man and a woman and a child. Oh, God, what has Cellbit done?

He stares at the phone. He desperately tries to remember where he left his own. His pants are off, but his shirt is on. It's the same shirt he went out in, and it's really uncomfortable to be sleeping in, and the coat he wore with it is gone. Or, at least, it's out of sight, and that's where he was keeping his phone and his wallet and his hotel room key and- oh, fuck, Bagi. She's going to kill him!

The person clinging to Cellbit like a koala seems to settle down (how are they sleeping through the noise??), their breaths evening out and their grip relaxing.

Okay, Cellbit thinks, Escaping from a person can't be worse than escaping from prison. (Granted, he had "escaped" from "prison" at the bright age of eleven, and him "escaping" was him climbing out the window and watching the sunset from the roof of the juvenile hall he was trapped in, but the point stands.)

Carefully, he pries the person's arms off of him. He rolls out of bed and onto the floor and immediately gets onto his knees and ignores the rattling in his skull and the exhausted protesting of his bones and shoves an actual pillow into the person's arms.

He hesitates, just briefly, as he takes in his spouse's face for the first time that he can remember.

He's beautiful. Creases in his face from sleep, bags under his eyes, hair plastered to the side of his head, tiny bit of drool escaping from the corner of his mouth as he snuffles and buries his face into his new teddy bear.

Well. Drunk Cellbit has good taste.

Whatever, cell phone.

Cellbit doesn't think he could stand without vomiting, so he crawls over to where he thinks he vaguely remembers tossing his coat and his pants last night... or, rather, that morning. Something tells him it was entirely too late when he and his... person finally went to bed.

Blackout drunkenness be damned, Cellbit is still a detective, so his clothes are right where he thought they'd be: slung over the hotel room's desk chair.

First, he grabs his pants. He looks at them, considers the fragile state of his stomach, and decides that it probably isn't too smart to move too much. He doesn't know how much it'll take for him to throw up everything he's had over the trip so far, but he doesn't think it'll be that much.

So he abandons his pants for the moment and grabs his coat, instead. A brief search of the pockets finds all his things, plus a handful of stolen poker chips and a crushed pink flower.

Cellbit looks at the flower. What is it, amaranth? Is that it?

Whatever, cell phone.

He turns his phone on and is immediately met with a brand new wallpaper: a clearly drunk him, and an even drunker... husband(?) with his arms hung around Cellbit's shoulders. They're both smiling widely, their cheeks are both flushed, Cellbit is giving this guy a piggyback ride, and the Vegas lights are so bright behind them that it's giving Cellbit a headache just looking at them.

But that isn't what makes Cellbit sick. What makes him sick is the absolute mountain of texts from his extremely pissed-off sister. It starts with a simple, "Where are you?", and it ends with, "FUCK YOU DON'T COME BACK ME AND TINA WILL HAVE A GREEEEAT NIGHT TOGETHER BY OURSELVES WITH PAC!!"

Cellbit, deciding not to subject himself to any more torture, shuts his phone off and collapses backwards onto the floor. Even the carpet smells like alcohol; what did he and this guy do last night? ...Besides get married.

Cellbit raises his hand above his face and squints at his ring. Fake gold, he can tell. Cheap ring, glass jewels. Probably sold at the place he and the man got married at. Probably someplace cheesy with an Elvis impersonator acting as the officiant and a couple of equally-drunk tourists acting as the witnesses.

Groaning from the bed. Seems Cellbit's new husband is awake, then.

Cellbit keeps staring at his ring, anyway. It's... weird. He'd always dreamed of a big wedding, and now that he is married, he doesn't remember it. But it's fair, he supposes. He'd stopped believing he would get married years ago. Makes sense he wouldn't remember it happening.

The man in the bed swears and rolls around noisily.

"Fucking kill meeeee," he moans. "Son of a bitch!"

His voice is rough. Cellbit's probably sounds rougher. His entire body hurts.

The man keeps swearing. Cellbit listens, and he stares at his ring, and he quietly panics as the reality of his marriage sets in.

Are Vegas weddings even legal? Fuck, he's a detective, he should know this! But he's a detective in Brazil, he doesn't know American laws.

Abruptly, the man's complaining stops.

"Oh," Cellbit hears. "Hello."

Cellbit tears his eyes away from his ring and looks at the man. Their eyes meet, and, suddenly, Cellbit realizes why they got married.

If this man was beautiful asleep, he's absolutely stunning awake. His eyes are just so... and his jawline? What the hell?

Bagi always likes to tease Cellbit about his extreme romanticism. She says it's almost obsessive, but what does she know? What he and Pac had going on in high school was normal.

Cellbit just knows handsome when he sees it, and he supposes that Drunk Cellbit saw it and decided he had to put a ring on it.

It's a shame they're married. He doesn't think he'll be able to talk to this guy ever again after they sign the divorce papers.

Because they have to get divorced, right? Or annulled? Or... reversed? Whatever it is in Vegas, they'll have to do it. They don't know each other. Cellbit lives in Brazil. This guy seems like he has a family. It wouldn't work, no matter how pretty he is.

Slowly, Cellbit sits up. He winces, gags, props himself up against the desk's leg. He lets his stomach settle down. Tries not to smile back as the man smiles at him.

"Vegas," the man whispers. He sounds slightly awed. Cellbit feels the same way, but probably not for the same reasons. He's in shock over this man's beauty; this man is probably shocked that the Vegas stereotypes are true.

"Vegas," Cellbit agrees. He holds up his hand, and his ring. "Good morning. Can we get a divorce?"

The man gasps and looks down at his own hand. His eyes widen comically as he sees his ring.

"What the fuck?" he shouts.

Both he and Cellbit flinch at the volume. Ouch.

"A divorce," Cellbit repeats once the pounding in his head has subsided. "Because we got married."

The man's phone is still ringing. Cellbit kinda wants to throw it off the balcony, but he's probably already ruined this guy's life enough. (His family...)

The man, somehow, ignores it.

He crawls down the length of the bed and flops onto his stomach, head tilted just slightly as he takes Cellbit in. He props himself up on his elbows, and Cellbit can't help but admire his biceps because he's. He's shirtless. And he isn't wearing pants. He has boxers on, thank God- Cellbit doesn't know what he'd do if it turned out they'd done things last night after the wedding.

"You want a divorce?" the man asks. He shrugs. "I mean, sure, but... why?"

Cellbit stares at him. "We were drunk. I don't know you."

"Yeah but you did last night, and we liked each other enough to get married after a couple hours. That's gotta count for something, right?"

"I mean. Maybe? But- you don't even know my name!"

"Sure, and you don't know mine." His smile is blinding. "I'm Roier."

Roier... it settles around Cellbit's brain like a warm sweater.

"Cellbit," Cellbit responds. He swallows and forces his eyes away from Roier's arms. "Look, I'm sure you're a nice guy-"

"I am."

"-but we can't be married. My sister is supposed to be getting married next week and she'll kill me if she finds out I got married before she did. And we don't know each other and- dude, can you pick up your goddamn phone?"

Cellbit groans and throws his head back, eyes squinting shut from the pain in his head.

"Shit," the man swears, "hold on..."

Cellbit tunes him out as he finally answers his phone. He's a loud talker, but he's still quieter than his phone was.

He... has a nice voice. Cellbit can almost imagine hearing it daily, but that's literally just. Stupid. This is all stupid, they should be divorced already. And then Cellbit can go back to being single and miserable like he's used to.

With his eyes still shut, Cellbit flounders around for his pants. Once he has them, he starts pulling them on, desperately trying not to vomit as he does so. Fuck, his stomach...!

Bagi would be laughing if she heard about this. She'd be pissed, but she'd be laughing about it. She's been the one trying to get him to sign up for dating apps since he realized he's asexual and he stopped dating altogether. She's been trying to set him up with friends for years. She'd be furious if she found out that Cellbit went and married the first guy to flirt back with him. While drunk. In Las Vegas.

Cellbit manages to get his pants buttoned up just as Roier finishes his phone call. Out of breath and exhausted, Cellbit cracks an eye open and offers a weak smile at a very concerned-looking Roier.

"You don't look too good," Roier comments. "You can stay here until you're up to moving, you know."

Cellbit frowns. "Wouldn't that be awkward?"

"Why would it be awkward? We're married. Married people share rooms all the time."

"We aren't-" Cellbit tries to stand, immediately decides against it as the room swims around him, sits heavily back down. "Fuck. We aren't actually married, you know. We're Vegas-married."

"I know, but I'm not a dick. You look like shit, I'm not just gonna let you pass out in the hallway."

Oh, and he's nice, too. He's handsome and he's nice. Of course he's a package deal, what the fuck?

Only slightly annoyed, Cellbit lets himself flop to the side and lay down on the floor again. It isn't comfortable, but it feels better than sitting up does.

He looks up at Roier. "You're being awfully nice to a stranger."

Roier waves him off. "Nah, it's fine. If I trusted you last night, I can trust you now. I'm a very good judge of character."

"Really?"

"No, I'm actually kidnapping you."

Cellbit huffs out a laugh, a genuine smile growing on his face as Roier looks genuinely proud of himself.

"You're an asshole," Cellbit says. "I can't wait until we're divorced."

"Me, too," Roier agrees. "No offense- like, you're a really nice guy-" (Cellbit blushes.) "-but I kinda wish I got to, like, take you on a date or something before we got married."

Cellbit chokes on his own spit. "What?"

Roier's eyes widen and he sits up, alarmed. "What? Is that-"

"No!" Cellbit waves his hands frantically. "No, it's fine! I'm just... are you sure? You could still be drunk."

"I don't feel drunk."

"Maybe I'm still drunk, then."

"Maybe." Roier nods, faux serious. "We are in Vegas."

"Can you even date in Vegas? What can we even do?"

"Eh, I'm sure there's something we can do. Maybe we can get divorced this afternoon and get dinner?"

Cellbit almost turns him down. This is a bad idea. He's in Vegas. He isn't... they don't know each other. Roier doesn't know that Cellbit doesn't really do anything past kissing. That could be a problem, right? Maybe, but...

But Cellbit trusts himself to know that, even when drunk out of his mind, he would explain everything before engaging in any kind of intimacy with another man. He and Roier hadn't taken their underwear off, after all, that has to count for something. Roier seems like a nice guy. Cellbit thinks he can trust him to not be a total scumbag later on if it comes down to it.

So Cellbit swallows his hesitance and smiles and replies, "That sounds nice, actually."

(And if their divorce date could later turn into a real marriage? Well, Cellbit wouldn't complain.)

#a.d.'s fics i suppose. #a.d.'s fics i suppose #spiderbit #guapoduo #how have we not had a vegas wedding fic????? #it's kinda cheesy but i wanted to like. write it lol

[ghouljams]

'Apparently we're married?' is not cannon TO YOU. In my heart that is how dear sweet stray collector gets roped in. Same vibe as someone TNRing your stray, who they think is feral, but then the bitter boy runs up to you meowing up a storm about the injustices the moment he's released.

The injustices lmao

I imagine that happens to poor distribution system reader often. It's a tough job collecting strays but somebody has to take care of those babies. Ghost is the first human stray they've ever taken in, and it feels a lot like he's taken them in? Which is weird because it's their house? But he's taking care of them, doing things around the house, offering to pay for things. It's kind of weird, but it's not suspicious and it doesn't feel like he's trying to make them owe him anything, so... y'know... they just sort of let him keep helping out. The company is nice.

Ghost does have all the paperwork filled out and rolled up in his glove compartment. Some day he'll get around to asking for your signature. That's really the one thing he felt bad about filling in himself. He's going to keep you no matter what you say when he asks, but he figures he should ask. I mean, there's no releasing this cat, he's gonna keep sitting outside your door and yellin' for you. He's gonna keep slipping through the crack in your door, and asking why you tried to keep him out. The same way all indoor cats that have been tossed out will try to worm their way back inside. He's not meant to be feral, it's just that the injustices happened.

#ghoul speaks #simon ghost riley #the ghost distribution system #I think if Ghost could purr he would

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Slice Of Normal

Summary: The reader has just moved to Montana to live with her estranged father and out of a place where she no longer feels welcome. But it's been a long time since the pair have lived together and while Beau might think things can slip back to normal, it's not quite that easy...

Pairing: dad!Beau x daughter!reader

Word Count: 5,000ish

Warnings: language, family angst, divorce, mention of murder case

A/N: Here's a little Beau and daughter!reader for the first time!

_____

“Hey, kiddo,” said your dad as you tossed your backpack in the backseat. “How was school?”

“Fine,” you forced out, pilling into the front, glaring out the windshield. You felt his heated stare but he dropped it, pulling out of the line of cars at pick up and heading for home. He tapped his fingers against the wheel, words clearly on the tip of his tongue. But once again he didn’t say anything. 

Sometimes it was like living with a damn stranger.

Two years ago, life was normal. Your parents were married. Dad had a good job as a cop. Mom was doing her consulting. Every day you went home to two parents. You had the same friends you had your whole life. You got a starbucks with your mom every Saturday morning and you made homemade pizzas for dinner. You watched trash reality shows with your dad and you’d both get way too invested in the petty drama. It was all perfectly normal.

Until he went to work one day and it went to hell. Dad’s partner was killed and he blamed himself for not stopping it. He was…strange after that. He still asked about school and your day, still watched your shitty shows with you. But there was no joy in him. He felt guilty and dad wasn’t much of one for sharing his own feelings. You knew he’d get better with time. 

That’s when things got strange with mom too. She started to pick fights with him. She kept trying to force him to go to some expensive trauma therapist. All three of you knew he was hurting but she was the only one that said he was broken. You’d never forget the look on his face when she barked it at him in a fight. 

Watching one parent fall out of love with another in front of your own eyes was your own strange experience. You knew in that moment she’d left a mark on him, one that’d make him shutdown even more, hold even more feelings back from her. There’d be more fights. More snide comments. She’d get fed up and divorce him.

Four months after the shootout, she handed him the divorce papers and a flip switched in him. He started to fight back, the both of them bickering and arguing so much you found yourself storming downstairs and yelling at them both to act like adults. Dad moved out not long after that and within a month mom had a new boyfriend.

You stuck it out until last week before you knew you’d go crazy if you stayed in that house, your house, with her and that guy for one more second. 

Which meant moving halfway across the country to fucking Montana to live with a guy you hadn’t seen in person in six months.

“Mom’s marrying her boyfriend,” you said when he stopped at a red light. You didn’t look at him, sure he once again didn’t know what to say. “That’s why I wanted to move here. He doesn’t give two shits about me but he fakes it real good when she’s around.”

“Your mother should know-”

“She doesn’t listen to me when I try to talk and I’m sick of it. I know you know she’s like that,” you said, turning your head. He glanced down, gaze back on the road. “She’s a bitch.”

“Hey. Don’t talk about your mother like that.”

“Why not?” you scoffed. “She is one. You of all people know she is.”

“Mom is not a bitch,” he said, hitting the gas when the light turned, getting you off a busy street and heading for the outskirts of town. “Y/N, we raised you better than to call people names.”

“You’re defending her? You? She only drove you out of your own home, own family.” He gripped the wheel tighter, clenching his jaw. “Jesus christ. You still love her, don’t you. Why the hell would-”

“I am the reason…I moved out and I left. I refused to acknowledge the shit going on in my head and all mom tried to do was get me help. Do not blame her for-”

“Bullshit,” you scoffed. “I’d get out of her ass if I were you. Some other guy is fucking it now and she’s never taking you back.”

He pulled over fast, shaking his head at you. His green eyes narrowed, mouth opening just as his car radio crackled to life.

“Arlen,” he growled into the radio, frowning at you, a clear message to not say another word right now. 

“Chief we got reports of a murder-suicide at the Breckenridge Ranch. Jenny and Pop are taking lead but are requesting your presence,” said a woman’s voice on the other end. 

“I’ll be there in twenty.” He clipped the radio back in, taking a deep breath. “Y/N you are going to listen to me and I mean listen to me because I am about to have a very long night and we are not dropping this discussion. I don’t care for the way you speak and I do not like the way you talk about your mom. You don’t like her boyfriend, fiance, fine. But you’ll at least respect him. You don’t like you mother? Then at a minimum you will respect her. You do not call people bitch. You are grounded until further notice.”

“Wow,” you said, rolling your eyes. “I’m on your side and I’m the asshole. My old dad would have understood that but you? I don’t know who the fuck you are. Go ahead and ground me. I literally don’t care. You’re a fucking stranger.”

He was pissed. Very pissed. He turned back on the road and did a u-turn, heading back into town. You raised an eyebrow but he held up a finger. “No. You want to swear at me? Call me a stranger? Fine. I’m going to work. You’re a big enough girl to have a potty mouth then you don’t mind a little murder scene, hmm? You want to know what the fuck I do all day? Well now’s your chance to see, maybe I’ll be less of a damn stranger that way.”

You kept quiet, staring out the window for the next twenty minutes. You swallowed when he drove past a cruiser at the ranch entrance and yellow tape, driving silently down the dirt road. 

“Stay in the truck,” he said when he parked behind another cruiser outside a nearby barn. You bit the inside of your lip, hearing him shift around behind you. A few seconds later you had your backpack in your lap. “Do your homework.”

“I thought you wanted me to see dead bodies,” you mumbled, fisting one of the straps. His heavy sigh filled the space, a twinge of guilt in your gut.

“I never want that for you. We’ll get dinner out somewhere in a few hours. We need to talk. Not fight. Talk,” he said, pausing a beat before opening his door.

“Why didn’t you take me home?” you asked. He slid out, his shoulders sagging with his back to you.

“Because I’m scared you won’t be there when I get back.” He turned around, plucking his hat from the center console. You stared at him as he frowned. “I know you ran away from home two weeks ago, kid. We are not letting that happen again. Understand?”

You gave a small nod, the door closing loudly in the small space before you shut your eyes.

Maybe you should have just stayed in Texas.

Three Hours Later

You’d finished your homework awhile ago and were watching videos on your phone when you saw your dad approach the truck. He said something to a blonde cop lady and another guy, giving them a quick wave.

“Sorry it took so long,” he said, back in the truck, tossing his hat in the back.

“S’fine.” He was backed out and heading for the road quickly, rubbing his hand against his jaw. “Are you okay?”

“Me? Yeah. Why?”

“You were at a murder scene…” you said, catching a quick twitch of his lip. “Do dead bodies not scare you?”

“Not really. Sometimes you see bad things but a vast majority of the time, murders are…” he bit his bottom lip, shaking his head. “There are scenes that are gruesome but most murders are not something out of a horror film, at least to me. You get desensitized to it somewhat. Even the bad ones, it doesn’t tend to bother me. They were a person and unfortunately they lost their life in a violent way. My job is to act on their behalf and get them the justice they deserve. They aren’t scary bodies. It’s a soul that’s gone that I can help is the way I look at it.”

He cleared his throat as he pulled back onto the road.

“But Helena is much safer than Houston. Not as many murders or any of that.” You hummed, glancing out the window. “Y/N, I know you’re upset with me right now but I want you to be careful. Something is…happening. I don’t know what it is but be careful. No going out at night alone. Keep the doors and windows locked all the time. Be smart, alright?”

“Ok,” you said quietly. “That wasn’t a murder-suicide, was it.”

“It was a very good attempt at making it look like one. If my officers weren’t as good at their jobs, they would have written it up as one instead of what it was. A double murder. My gut says it wasn’t random though which means it’s less likely anyone else winds up hurt.” 

“S’good,” you mumbled before the air went quiet. He only tapped the steering wheel, no rhythm to it. Tap tap. Tap tap. 

He had no problem talking about work since you’d moved in a week ago. God, the first day he’d talked too much, trying to fill the awkward silences. Maybe he’d been gone too long and this is what your relationship was now.

You closed your eyes, resting your head on the glass, wishing he’d never left in the first place. 

You jerked and flashed open your eyes when he shook your shoulder. The inside of the truck smelled like grease and the brown bag on the dash confirmed your suspicions. He nodded out the window and you turned, finding you were at a fairly deserted park. You left your backpack behind and crawled out, walking over to the nearest picnic table. A moment later he was sat across from you, pulling out a box of chicken nuggets, fries and two packets of sauce.

“Thanks,” you said quietly, taking the food from him as he took out a bigger box and more fries for himself.

“Well, I figured your McDonald’s go to hadn’t changed at least.” You shrugged, the two of you eating without saying another word. But it didn’t last, the food soon gone, the trash bundled up and tossed in a nearby can. 

Your dad sighed when he returned to his seat, resting his forearms against the faded wood top.

“Y/N. I…I left you and mom. If there’s anyone you should hate-”

“Why do you keep lying for her?” you interrupted. He swallowed thickly, breathing out a slow breath. “You left because she tossed you out. You didn’t leave because you wanted to.”

“...She had every right to.” You rolled your eyes, his hand raising. “Please. Just listen. Mom tried to get me help and I was the one that was an asshole about it. I blamed myself, I still do. She did what you’re supposed to for a partner. I pushed her away and us not being together anymore is because of me.”

You shook your head, a frown forming on his face. “I lived in that house too. I know you or at least I used to. I knew you were hurting and we couldn’t fix it. But I got that. It was something you had to go through, at your pace. You did the same thing when grandpa died. You got all quiet and pushed it down. And mom…she was a bitch back then too and tried to force you to get better faster all because she didn’t like having a grieving husband. You are supposed to help your partner, not hurt them more. Your problem has always been that you’re too in love with her to see that she hurts you. Just for one second imagine that was my husband that did that to me. Imagine he tried to force me into therapy less than a week after my best friend died because I was fucking sad and didn’t want to talk about it. Imagine my partner made me feel even worse and like I was the problem during one of the lowest moments of my life. Imagine that he was the one that made me feel like all of it was my fault when I was grieving. You’d tell me to leave his ass so I’m asking you to please, please stop defending her. I’m not a little kid anymore, dad.”

“No, you’re clearly not,” he said quietly, staring down at his lap. “I just don’t want you to hate your mother. Her heart was in the right place, even if that’s not how I process things.”

“I don’t hate her. I just don’t like her anymore. I told her so many times I didn’t like her boyfriend and she wouldn’t listen to me. You would have listened to me. S’why I ran away. I was trying to come here.” 

He pursed his lips and you waited, giving him time to respond the way he wanted to. 

“I wish…I wish mom and I had handled things differently. But what happened, happened. I would like to see you attempt to reconcile with your mom but I won’t force it.”

“Thank you,” you said, a quick nod coming from him.

“But…you are also a bit thick headed.” You frowned. “I know you are a teenager and dad isn’t the cool guy anymore but I reached out every single day and you definitely didn’t answer. I invited you to visit so many times and you never would. So cut your mom some slack because if you’re giving me that treatment, I can only imagine it’s the same for her.”

“Fine,” you grit out, trying to ignore how he may have had a point about why your relationship had soured. You sort of started ignoring him but you’d been busy and he needed space to work through his crap, hadn’t he?

“And for the record, it’s possible to still love someone but not want to be married to them ever again.” You stared at him, his shoulders sagging. “I don’t want to deal with an attitude all the time and you don’t want me to be a grump that hounds you every day. Can we try a clean slate? Pretend this afternoon didn’t happen?”

“Alright. We can try.”

The Next Day

You rubbed your jaw as you sat on the hard bench outside of the principal’s office. You had to hand it to Mara Hoyt. The little bitch knew how to throw a right hook. You guess that’s what happened when the star softball pitcher decided she hated your guts all because her boyfriend said hi to you on your first day.

On her own, you could have handled that. But this school was cliche central and the mean popular girl got all her mean popular friends to start bullying you after that. You were honestly surprised it took a whole eight days for things to get physical.

She was already in the office with her parents, crying the blues about how awful you were and bullshit, bullshit, bullshit. Shit, you hadn’t even touched the girl yet you were the one the school resource officer threw a pair of cuffs on. 

The sharp skid of a rubber sole against linoleum made both you and the officer turn your heads, your dad staring at you both wide eyed.

“Todd, get those cuffs of her or so help me,” growled your dad, storming over. 

“Sir? What are you-”

“How many Arlen’s do you think there are in this town? That’s my daughter,” he grit out. Todd moved at lightning speed the second he had the keys out of his pocket, apologizing to his boss and not you. You had to fight to not roll your eyes. You had a feeling with the way your dad’s face looked murderous that wouldn’t go over well.

“Excuse me,” said the vice principal, coming out to the hall with a stern expression. “Why is she uncuffed? She attacked-”

“Sheriff Beau Arlen,” said your dad with a scary undertone in his voice, neglecting to offer his hand. “Y/N’s father and Chief of police over at the station. We don’t cuff seventeen year old girls unless they’ve committed a crime. Now, if after our discussion and I hear all the facts it turns out she did, I’ll cuff her myself and take her down for booking. Am I clear?”

The vice principal narrowed his eyes but said nothing, holding the door open. You trudged inside, your dad hot on your heels. You sat in the empty chair in front of the desk, Mara doing a good job of looking like a sobbing mess in the one nearby.

“Mr. Arlen?” the principal asked. He hummed, finding a spot along the wall and leaning against it with crossed arms, his eyes shooting to Mara. “I’m afraid we’ll have to suspend Y/N for attacking Mara for five days out of school.”

“And we’re pressing charges, even if you are the sheriff,” said a snotty woman. 

God were you working hard to not flip that whole family off. You were about to open your mouth and try to give your side of the story when you saw your dad’s face and his finger wag at you.

Uh oh. 

“Where do we want to begin? The way this school only got one students side of the story-”

“There are witnesses,” cut in the vice principal, your dad holding up a hand.

“Let me guess, Mara’s friends?” he shot back, clenching his jaw, returning his focus to the principal. “Now I know for a fact my daughter is getting bullied by this girl and her friends every single day since she started last week.”

You swallowed. You hadn’t told him that. How had he known?

He stepped forward, putting his hands on the back of your chair, leaning over it so you felt his chest against the top of your head.

“Do we want to start with the blatant bullying? Or perhaps with Mara?” he asked, turning his head to her, shooting her parents a glare. “You know, the one who actually did the attacking.”

“My daughter did no such thing,” snapped her dad. You felt your dad reach an arm around, gently grasping your forearm and holding it up.

“One girl has only defensive injuries. Bruises, nail marks. The other has scrapped knuckles, two broken fingernails and can’t look me in the eye. Guess which one is which,” growled your dad, his hand still gentle as he lowered your arm to your lap. Mara’s parents didn’t look like they were about to backdown though.

“There are witnesses. This is ridiculous. Mara acted in self-defense then,” said her mom. You glanced at the principal, his words caught in his throat and you couldn’t help but smile for a moment.

“Oh so now her story is changing?” poked your dad.

“No!” said her mom. “Your daughter said something so vile and threatening-”

“To her bully? Did Y/N say something like that to you Mara? Did she say something because her bully’s been so mean to her?”

“Don’t speak to our daughter!” shouted her dad. Mara glanced at you, as if you’d somehow help her. Meanwhile this was turning out to be the best day of your new school yet.

“I don’t hear her denying she was bullying Y/N? In fact, I don’t hear her saying anything. If it’s so abhorrent and you felt in so much danger, why don’t you tell us all what it was that made you act in self-defense, hm?” said your dad, his focus narrowed in on Mara. 

She was so fucked and she knew it. 

“I said don’t-”

“Alec,” interrupted the vice principal, his focus turned onto Mara as well. “Mara. Answer the question.”

But she couldn’t. She was floundering, face turning red under the interrogation. 

“Tell the truth and the Arlen family,” growled your dad, pointed straight back at her parents, “Will not press any charges.”

Mara contorted her face before throwing her hands up. “She called me insecure and said I should get help for that so I got mad and punched and kicked her.”

“And why did she call you that?” cut in your dad, laser focused on Mara. She closed her eyes, lowering her head. “Mara.”

“Because I’ve been bullying her because my boyfriend said hi to her and said we should get to know her because she’s new but I know he just wants to get in her pants so I told all my friends to keep her away from him no matter what.”

“I expect an apology,” he said. She looked up, eyes full of unshed tears. “Oh, not to me.”

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly, barely looking at you.

“Thanks. I don’t accept it and that is perfectly within my rights,” you said. 

“Regardless, Mara you’re suspended for five days out of school. Y/N, you’re suspended for two. We have a zero tolerance policy on fighting,” said the principal.

“She didn’t fight,” said your dad, his voice stern. 

“It’s a rule,” said the principal.

“Fine,” said your dad, grabbing your bicep and pulling you to your feet. “Let’s go get lunch out, maybe catch a movie.”

You couldn’t hide the smile on your face as he led you out, his hand falling away when he looked over his shoulder. “Three more things. One, I fully expect punishments for the students that lied about what they saw. Two, I hear of anymore bullying happening at this school to any kid, I will make it my personal mission in life to get you fired and three? You people get your daughter in therapy sooner than later because that’s the sort of thing that gets her tossed in jail when she’s older.”

He tossed your backpack over his shoulder as he led you out to the hall, hand on your back leading you towards the front doors. You grinned as you stared, his face blank when he opened the door to fresh air.

“That was fucking awesome,” you said, jogging down the steps and over to the truck. “You went full cop mode and scared the shit of her! That was-”

“Are you okay?” he asked when you sat in the passenger seat. You tilted your head when he cupped your cheeks, running his thumb over the scuffed up skin on the left. “We need to clean that.”

He pushed up your short sleeves, finding more bruises, a few older ones, before trailing down to your nicked up arms.

“Y/N, I know you’re a good kid that doesn’t like to get in trouble but promise me something?” You nodded when he fixed your braid behind your ear. “Next time someone touches you without permission, you lay their ass out.”

“You told me I shouldn’t hit people.”

“Yeah, well the little bitch would have deserved it.” Your jaw dropped into a grin, his attempt at holding a blank face faltering, a smile creeping up. “Yeah, I know I said not to call people that but that kid’s a psycho waiting to happen. Promise me?”

“I promise,” you said, getting a kiss on the forehead. “How’d you know I didn’t start the fight?”

“I know you. I also know there would have been no fight because if you had thrown the first punch, that girl would be knocked out.” He stroked your cheek again and sighed. “No headache? Anything like that?”

“She punches like a pussy.” He closed his eyes, shaking his head. “Too far?”

“Just a tad. Come on. Let’s go enjoy your suspension.”

Later That Evening

“Alec’s my second cousin, such a dickhead,” said one of dad’s officer’s, the blonde woman named Jenny you’d seen last night. “Mara’s always been awful.”

“Jenny,” chided your dad in his office, chowing down on some chinese takeout from behind his desk. You gave her a smile, eating from your carton as she set a file down in front of him. “Don’t be a bad influence.”

“If I were her, I would have decked the little shit,” said Jenny. Your dad rolled his eyes and read through the file, Jenny stealing a fortune cookie for herself. She leaned against his desk and offered you a smile. “So besides the school being crap thing and your dad dragging you to murder scenes, how do you like Montana so far?”

“Jenny,” he said again, glancing over the top of the file at her.

“It’s a lot less boring than I thought it’d be,” you said, offering her one of your egg rolls. 

“Thank you,” she said, popping it in her mouth, returning her attention to your dad. “Both vics had traces of a yellow substance in their air passages.”

“Rat poison?” you asked, both of them slowly turning their heads towards you. They stared blankly as you chewed. “It was in that new hunger games movie, they killed a guy with it.”

“Wow,” said Jenny as your dad closed his eyes. “That’s impressive.”

“I don’t even…” he sighed, rubbing his jaw as he flashed open his eyes. “So rat poison killed them. Why make it look like a murder suicide then? This person must have known we’d do autopsies.”

“Unless they didn’t,” you said, earning a glare from him. “Hey, people are dumb. You taught me that when I was like eight.”

“Y/N-”

“No, she has a point,” said Jenny, picking up her copy of the file and glancing through it. “Who is smart enough to use rat poison but dumb enough to not realize we’d find it and try to cover it up?”

“No one, that’s who,” said your dad. You bit into another eggroll and shrugged. He threw his hand back and groaned. “Fine. What’s your theory?”

“Well, a kid is dumb enough,” you said. “Maybe they watched that movie too.”

“Genius plan except that couple had no kids,” he said. You finished your bite and shrugged. “What?”

“Weren’t you the one that also told me people aren’t always what they seem and not to trust someone just because they were nice? They could have been whackjobs.”

Jenny cocked her head, glancing at your dad. “Kid has a point, Arlen. It was a large property. Entirely possible we missed something.”

“Fine. We’ll check it out first thing,” he said, nodding to you. “You might as well come along Ms. Detective, since you’re out ot school for a few days.”

“Good with me. As long as it’s not early. I don’t do early,” you said, a tiny smirk on his face that told you you’d be up at dawn.

The Next Afternoon

“What’s going to happen to him?” you asked as your dad drove you both home after a long morning. He was quiet for a beat. “Will he go to juvie?”

“Maybe. Maybe a hospital for people like him. Either way, it’s a better situation than he was in,” he said. He tapped the wheel, his lips pursed. “You know I don’t want you to be a cop right?”

“I know. It’s just…it’s easy to talk to you about your work,” you said. He nodded, turning off to the road just a minute drive from the house. 

“So can you rent this movie with the rat poison?” he asked. You stared, his eyes flickering over for just a moment. “I thought Katniss took out the capital. How can they have another movie?”

“It’s a prequel, about Snow.” 

“Whoa, Donald Sutherland Snow? They made a movie about that jackass?” 

“Well, she wrote another book and then they made it into a movie. It was really good cause you can see how he’s a complete narcissist and he goes from this actually mostly likable guy to the jackass in the other movies.”

“Okay, I definitely have to see this.” He pulled into the driveway, your gaze fixed on him when he turned the car off. “Unless you don’t want to watch it?”

“No I just…I miss when I’d make you watch the hunger games and you’d make me watch the dirty dozen and that was our thing.”

“Still our thing,” he said, brushing his thumb over the healing scrape on your cheek. “How’s that feeling today?”

“I told you, I’m fine.”

“I know, I know. I worry.” He opened the door and smiled as he popped out. “Alright little criminal. Go do that homework you ignored all day while I make us something to eat before our movie.”

“Really? Come on. I’m still suspended tomorrow. Can’t I do it over the weekend?” He looked up like he was thinking about it, a small smile crossing his face. “Thank you!”

“You’re helping me with dinner, missy.” You didn’t really mind that fact though. Making dinner together and watching a movie? That was normal for the two of you. 

A few hours later when you were bundled up under a blanket together on the couch and pressing start, you finally felt like it was a normal thursday night, no more tension or awkwardness in the air. And while murder investigations and school fights were certainly interesting, a little slice of normal again felt damn good.

_________

#big sky #beau arlen #beau arlen x daughter!reader #beau arlen fanfic #big sky fanfic

[blues824]

✨️Hello✨️

I believe you know what I'm requesting :)) anyways

Happy new year!!

Hell yes I do. A marriage proposal from Sebek.

Gender-neutral reader

Sebek Zigvolt

What was the point of elaborate plans if you could ruin them so easily because of an impulse? An inescapable urge? An act that was done despite having such an elaborate plan.

He had an entire plan to ask you to be his for eternity. To ask you to grow old alongside him. To ask you to be the person he returns home to when he places down the mantle of guard and soldier to take up the mantle of ‘husband’.

Yes, he was going to propose.

A picnic in the woods, fairy-lights strung up to make the scene feel a bit more romantic. This was all with both Lilia, Silver, and even Waka-sama’s help. He would have wined and dined you, reciting a poem he had carefully crafted, before pulling out the ring at the end, getting on his knee, and asking if you would marry him.

Why did you have to be the way that you are?

It was so hard yet so easy to just coexist with you. He could be his true self around you. You’ve even picked up his favorite book so that conversation would never cease between the two of you. However, it made him nervous that he could mess it all up at any given point.

This was his first time in a relationship, and it was serious. I mean, he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, if you would have him. He wanted to make sure that the moment was perfect, tailored to both you and him.

However, it was on the way there where he popped the question. He was leading you by your hand when you made a joke. It was a simple joke about how you’ve blindly trusted everyone since you came to Twisted Wonderland, and he opened his mouth before he could think about it.

“If you marry me, then you won’t be trusting blindly anymore. Not if I can help it,” He didn’t register what he said until you stopped in your tracks.

“Is that an official proposal, Sebek Zigvolt?” You asked quietly. That’s when it hit him like a punch to the face.

“W-Would you want it to be?” Since when did he start stuttering? He was really messing this up. However, as you looked into his eyes with nothing but pure love and adoration, he found himself losing the embarrassment.

“...Yes, I would,” You said, going to wrap your arms around him, but he pushed you away a little. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box, kneeling down on the ground and looking up to you as he opened the box up to reveal a ring.

Tears welled up in your eyes, a few slipping down, a smile gracing your lips. You could tell that Sebek was nervous with how he had tears in his eyes as well.

“Y/N, I originally intended to serenade you with a poem that I had created for you, as well as lead you to a picnic date that I had assistance in assembling. However, it seems as though you know how to break me down and make me toss away any plans. Which is why I am asking you now. Will you marry me?”

A brief moment of silence took over… even the birds went quiet. Sebek’s heart was pounding against his ribcage, waiting for your answer. Then, you nodded your head, reaching your hand out to him as he slipped the ring onto your finger.

“I’m sorry I ruined your plans, darling,” You giggled through sobs, finally being able to wrap your arms around his neck as he stood up. His hands went to your waist.

“For you, I would gladly forsake every plan and itinerary just to be with you, for your presence is the most enchanting destination I could ever hope to reach,” The emotions were too much for you, so you just pulled him into a kiss, hoping to convey all those unsaid emotions. He seemed to get the message, leaning forward as he kissed you back to put you in a small dip.

Both of you were excited to see what fate had in store for you next.

#twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst wonderland #sebek #twst sebek zigvolt #sebek zigvolt x reader #twst sebek #sebek x reader #sebek zigvolt #twst sebek zigvolt x reader #twst sebek x reader

[kpopfanfictrash]

Love to Hate (Extra Scene IV: Jungkook’s POV)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Genre: Fuck Buddies / Enemies to Lovers

Pairing: Jungkook / Reader

Synopsis: Born with a silver spoon in your mouth, you've done your best to rid yourself of the taste since you were old enough to walk. Occasionally though, your mother manages to rope you into an obligatory function – or a blind date with playboy billionaire, Jeon Jungkook. Jungkook stands for everything you loathe about the world you left behind, but you can’t deny the spark of attraction between you. Intrigued by the promise of mutual satisfaction, you agree to one night in bed… and quickly realize you’re in far, far deeper than you ever intended.

Author’s Note: This scene takes place after the Epilogue of Love to Hate and is told from Jungkook’s point of view. There is no corresponding scene from Y/N’s POV. PLEASE READ THE ENTIRE STORY BEFORE READING THIS SCENE (otherwise there will be many spoilers lol).

Rating: 18+

Warnings: some dirty talk, but not actual sex

Word Count: 4,605

“There’s no way that man is single.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I mean, look at him.” The woman behind Jungkook sighs. “A face like his? With a body like that? Wearing a suit that costs more than my rent? Yeah, no way someone hasn’t locked him down.”

A loud, jarring slurp signals the end of a drink. “I don’t know,” says the other woman. “I feel like that suit is the exact reason he has to be single. No guy that rich or hot would ever marry so young.”

Lifting his newspaper, Jungkook hides a smile. Seated outside the sole coffee shop in Terminal C, he’s been nursing his Americano for the better part of an hour. Jungkook’s own fault for arriving at the airport early. Your plane wasn’t scheduled to land until one, but he wanted to be here in case.

Jungkook can practically hear your laughter in his mind. “In case what?” you’d tease. “In case the plane has an extra engine to help break the sound barrier? Or multiple people parachute out, giving us an extra boost?”

“Both of those things,” Jungkook would answer with a straight face. You’d shake your head, amused at having married someone so ridiculous and –

Clearing his throat, Jungkook forces himself to focus. What’s ridiculous is the fact that he daydreams about his wife when you’ve only been gone for three days. Although that’s three days too long, in Jungkook’s unbiased opinion.

Giving up on pretending to read, Jungkook lowers the paper to pull his phone from his pocket. Searching the screen, he sees nothing but the text you sent twenty minutes ago.

Y/N: Landed 😘 see you soon! [12:54 PM]

Nothing since then, and Jungkook frowns as he pushes a hand through his hair.

“See,” hisses the same woman behind him. “No ring!”

“That’s his right hand, Lauren.”

“Oh.”

Stifling laughter, Jungkook drains the rest of his coffee to push himself to stand. Folding the newspaper under one arm, he pats the front of his suit jacket to check for his wallet. Satisfied, he turns and casually lifts a brow.

Both women do an admirable job of pretending they haven’t been staring for the past fifteen minutes. Clearing his throat, Jungkook waits for one to look up from their phone.

“Married,” he says, lifting a hand to display his wedding ring. “Happily so. Have a good day, ladies.”

With that, he turns to stride across the floor. As he leaves, Jungkook hears a groan of embarrassment followed by bursts of laughter. Tossing his paper into the recycling, Jungkook stops at the flight board to confirm your landing.

The board says your flight reached the gate fifteen minutes ago, which causes Jungkook to frown. Usually, you’re the first off the plane and have reached him by now. Turning around, Jungkook scans the baggage claim and wonders if you’re there. Unlikely. You don’t usually check a bag for a trip of three days.

Stepping away from the board, Jungkook narrowly misses being run over by a man on a scooter. He’s about to call your cell phone when a fresh wave of people walks from the exit. Hurrying in this direction, Jungkook peers through the crowd and immediately spots your red coat – hand-selected by Mia, your daughter.

Even at five years old, Mia is a force to be reckoned with. Her opinions tend to be law, much to your despair. Spoiled by her father, you’ve sighed and Jungkook doesn’t deny it. He can admit when he’s the guilty party.

Lifting a hand, Jungkook is about to wave when he notices your expression and falters. Usually, that look on your face means you’re about to explode. Slightly alarmed, Jungkook searches for the culprit and pauses on a man walking at your side.

Tall, dark haired and handsome. Oddly familiar, although Jungkook can’t pinpoint why.

Usually, it amuses Jungkook to no end when other people hit on you. He enjoys the quiet security in knowing you’ll (politely) turn them down and return to Jungkook. A fact he takes pleasure in reminding you of later that night, spread out beneath him while you writhe in pleasure.

This time is different though because this time, you’re not smiling. Jungkook watches while your jawline tightens, yet another indication of your clear discomfort. Wheeling your carry-on, you nod silently at something the stranger is saying.

The moment the crowd thins, you spot Jungkook and brighten. This immediate contrast makes Jungkook’s gaze harden, moving once more to the man by your side. There are few people in this world who could make you – his ferocious wife – uncomfortable, and all of them reside on his personal shit list.

Your walking companion notices Jungkook at the same time, slowing his steps until he comes to a halt. Still, he doesn’t leave and Jungkook stamps down annoyance while crossing the hall. Soon, he’s within hearing distance and what he does overhear makes his stomach drop.

“… it’s just been so long, Y/N. I barely recognized you! Imagine, if I’d taken that later flight – or, God forbid, been forced to ride in economy.”

“Imagine,” you say flatly. The look on your face could easily be misconstrued as pleasant but Jungkook knows you well enough to know you’re screaming inside.

His lips twitch as he nears since clearly, your walking partner doesn’t.

“I feel like it’s a sign,” the man says, moving closer. When he reaches for your arm, Jungkook stiffens. “Running into you after so many years, like this. I always felt that–”

Immediately, you yank your arm back. “You thought what?” you demand. “That I’d forget about everything you did, Kameron? That it’d all disappear? That I wouldn’t have moved on with my life by now?”

Kameron’s gaze darkens, dipping briefly to your left hand. “Is this about… him?” he asks, barely audible.

Forcing his feet to stop, it takes all Jungkook’s willpower to keep himself out of it. You’d never forgive Jungkook if he rode in on his white horse to save you. You’re more than capable of handling one shitty ex-boyfriend.

Because that’s who this man is and why Jungkook finds him familiar – this is Kameron, your ex and recently promoted CEO of Moore Holdings. Jungkook has actually met him once before, although that was before the two of you started dating. He disliked Kameron back then; a dislike which deepened to hate once he heard your backstory.

Hands clenched into fists, Jungkook concentrates on feeling the bite of his nails on his palms. At least, he does until you glance over your shoulder, meeting his gaze with a pleading look. In a single stride, Jungkook has reached you and is extending his hand.

“Hello,” he says, waiting for Kameron to shake. With his other arm, Jungkook pulls you into his side. “Thank you for escorting my wife from her flight.”

You relax against him, and Jungkook’s barely contained anger bubbles beneath the surface. Your expression doesn’t shift, but Jungkook can feel the subtle change in your body. It’s the same way he feels whenever you stand beside him, offering support he didn’t know he needed.

One of Jungkook’s favorite memories is the time he ran into Liam Jessen at a conference and you politely told Liam you’d carve his eyeballs out with a spoon if he didn’t leave before lunch. He disappeared. Swiftly. Even Jungkook was chilled by your tone, and he swears up and down later that night was when your son, Jae, was conceived.

Narrowing slightly, Kameron’s gaze moves to Jungkook. He can practically see the wheels turning in your ex’s mind – the ring on your finger, his introduction as his wife – and gradually, Kameron’s expression tightens.

Jungkook lifts a brow. While you’re more than capable of handling people, Jungkook knows you haven’t seen Kameron since the night you broke up. Somehow, you managed to avoid meeting over the years – until now. Granted, that was years ago and you’ve moved on since then, but Jungkook knows better than others how some wounds can linger.

A lone muscle tics in Kameron’s jaw. “Hey,” he says, extending his hand to shake. “Kameron Moore. CEO of Moore Holdings.”

Gripping him tightly, Jungkook says, “Jeon Jungkook. Y/N’s husband and CEO of Jeon Energy.”

Jungkook sees your lips twitch, the way they always do when he introduces himself as your husband first. It’s true, though – Jungkook would sell his company tomorrow if it meant keeping you.

Hearing his name has the desired effect and Kameron’s eyes widen. He tries to withdraw his hand, but Jungkook holds on, squeezing even tighter before letting go.

Casual, he takes a step backwards and reaches for your bag. Wheeling this to one side, Jungkook taps his fingers against the handle.

It isn’t often Jungkook pulls the name card but in moments like this, his surname feels almost worthwhile. Despite meaning nothing to him, Jungkook knows the name Jeon means a lot to people like Kameron.

“I – oh.” For a moment, Kameron seems as though he swallowed something bitter. His gaze darts to you. “I didn’t realize… your name was Y/N Y/L/N on your boarding pass, so I just assumed…”

“You just assumed what?” Jungkook says calmly. “That her marriage was a sham? That she wore a wedding ring to deter people from hitting on her? Even if that were true,” he adds, his expression stony, “that’s awfully bold to assume such a rule wouldn’t apply to you.”

Kameron bristles. “Y/N and I have a history, if you must know.”

“Oh, he knows,” you say drily, answering for him. Turning to Jungkook, you place a hand on his Kiton suit. “I’ll take it from here, babe.”

Inclining his head, Jungkook takes a step backward. He’s pleased to see the fire returned to your eyes – admittedly, this signal bodes poorly for Kameron. Jungkook would feel bad for him if Kameron weren’t the reason for half your trust issues.

“My husband is right,” you say with a smile. “Even if my ring were fake, what makes you think I’d want to talk to you?”

Floundering slightly, Kameron opens and shuts his mouth.

“Exactly,” you say, not waiting for a response. “I was polite to you during the flight. I sat across the aisle even though I was uncomfortable. I even engaged in small talk after putting my headphones in. Never mind that I only slept for three hours to get home early for my family. I tried to be nice to you,” you insist, lifting a brow. “But clearly, that was futile.”

Jungkook can feel a smile spreading over his face. It’s in moments like these when he’s infinitely glad you two are on the same team. And that you mostly use your powers for the good of humanity.

“Let me make something perfectly clear,” you continue. “Even if I weren’t happily married with kids, I’d have no interest in seeing you. Our relationship isn’t something I look back on fondly. I would say I hope you’re doing well but really, I don’t. Moore Holdings is a predatory and shitty excuse for a company. I hope it goes under. Stay healthy, I guess,” you say with a shrug. Turning to Jungkook, you hold out your arm. “Shall we?”

Jungkook just nods, slipping his hand through your own to head for the doors. He doesn’t spare a backwards glance but is sure if he did, he’d find your ex-boyfriend left speechless. You tend to have that effect on people.

Gripping your carry-on bag, he wheels this towards the pick-up lane at Terminal C. Your driver is waiting, idling at the curb.

Stepping outside, you pause and tip your head back. “God,” you groan, before starting to laugh. “What a mess.”

Handing your bag to your driver, Jungkook steps closer and places his hands on your arms. Tugging you towards him, he watches your eyes open.

“Hey,” he says, smiling downward.

“Hi.” Softly, you return the gesture. “Can I just say you’re a sight for sore eyes? I was stuck with that asshole for five hours, listening to him brag about a conference he just spoke at for two hundred people.”

Jungkook can’t hide his smirk. “Little did he know, he was bragging to EnergyCon’s keynote speaker.”

You lightly scoff, but he can tell that you’re pleased. EnergyCon is the largest energy conference in the country and the site of your latest work trip. You led two days of seminars before finishing the week by giving the keynote address. Clean Ocean has never been a small organization, but recent successes have shot your message to the forefront of the industry.

Still, Jungkook scans your face for any sign of discomfort. Although you seem okay, he knows better than most how old scars can linger.

“I’m fine,” you say softly, reading his mind. “Promise.”

Giving a small smile, Jungkook steps back to open the car door. “You can’t blame me for worrying,” he says as you slide inside. “Are you sure? You don’t have to pretend.”

“I know,” you muse. “It’s strange, really. I’ve thought about it before – what I would say to Kameron if I ever saw him again.”

“Oh?” Following your lead, Jungkook shuts the car door. “And what was the plan? Fiery vengeance? Complete cold shoulder?”

Laughing a little, you set your purse down. Resting your head on the seat, you turn sideways to face him. Jungkook takes your hand again, unable to let go for too long.

“I thought about both,” you admit. “But then I saw Kameron, and everything flew out the window. Everything I’d planned to say seemed suddenly… silly isn’t the right word. Unimportant? There’s a part of me that will always be angry at him for what he did. And with myself, for letting him.”

Jungkook’s frown deepens when the car pulls from the curb. “I don’t think you let him do anything, Y/N.”

Thoughtful, you nod. “I guess. Anyways, Kameron started talking and it just became clear to me that he hadn’t changed. At all. Kameron cares so much about what others think of him. He needs validation from everyone, which is honestly exhausting. It just made me think that even if he hasn’t changed, I have. Which seems like a fitting ending.”

Jungkook’s lips quirk. “Plus, you know, you got to tell him his company was shit.”

At this, you let out a laugh. “Yeah, that was pretty great. Turns out, I’ve only matured to a point.”

“I like that point,” Jungkook says, using your hand to tug you closer. Draping your legs over his thighs, he removes your shoes to set on the floor. “I also don’t agree that maturity means always turning the other cheek. Sometimes, it means standing up for yourself. Or… for example, telling an asshole when they are one.”

Your laughter becomes a groan when Jungkook presses his thumb to the ball of your foot, and he glances to ensure the partition is up. Slumped against the leather seat, you squint at Jungkook in suspicion.

“What do you want?” you grumble.

He flashes an innocent smile. “What makes you think I want something?”

You struggle to sit up, failing halfway and sinking. “Because you’re using pressure points against me – oh,” you exhale when he kneads your foot.

Deftly, Jungkook continues to work on your arches. “Maybe what I want is for my beautiful wife to relax after her flight.”

You snort. “And?”

“And…” Jungkook pauses, then sighs. “How do you always know?”

“Call it mother’s intuition.”

“Unfair. All I got as a dad was bad hearing.”

“Don’t forget your vision,” you say helpfully. “That’s gotten worse, too.”

Jungkook shoots you a look that makes you giggle before pulling you closer. “Come here,” he growls, wrapping his arms around you. Pressing a kiss to your forehead, he exhales, “I missed you.”

He feels when you soften. “I missed you too, baby.”

A long moment passes, and then –

“But you’re not going to make me forget. What happened?”

Lips twitching, Jungkook pulls away. “Nothing happened,” he insists. “Or nothing bad happened. I may have forgotten to send Jason a birthday gift like you asked. I’ll send one tonight! As soon as we get home.”

“That’s okay,” you murmur, smoothing your thumb over his cheekbone. “I knew you’d forget, so I already sent one.”

Jungkook’s jaw drops.

Seeing his face, you start to laugh. “What?”

“Betrayal!” he blurts.

“You forgot!” you protest, lowering your head to rest on his shoulder.

“I know,” Jungkook huffs. “Very sneaky of you.”

“Jason would’ve been despondent if his favorite brother-in-law missed his birthday. I’m just trying to protect you, here.”

“I’m his only brother-in-law, babe.”

“Exactly. Doubly tragic if you forgot.”

Jungkook laughs, slipping two fingers beneath your chin to tilt your face to his. Brushing your lips with a kiss, he feels familiar heat spread down his spine. Your lips part beneath his, tongue flicking in a way that sends blood to his cock. Dropping his head, Jungkook begins to kiss down your throat.

When he bites down, you shudder and your hands fist in his jacket. Jungkook’s grip tightens on your waist when you moan his name. Returning to your mouth, he nips your lower lip before soothing it with a kiss.

“Jungkook,” you pant, gripping the base of his hair.

“Yeah?”

His hand roams your spine, relearning your body. Only three days and still, he’s missed you. Missed the sound of your sleep beside his, your laughter in the morning and wry looks exchanged over weird things the kids do.

Your exhale is shaky. “We should stop,” you murmur, gaze fixed on his lips.

Jungkook smirks. “Should we?”

“Yeah.”

“And why is that?”

“Because.” Torn, you glance forward. “We’re on our way to get the kids, and there’s no way we have time to do everything I want before then.”

Despite the situation in Jungkook’s pants, he’s forced to agree. As appealing as car sex sounds right now, Seokjin and Yoongi’s home isn’t far from the airport. Falling backwards, Jungkook exhales to blow hair from his face.

Laughing a little, you smooth the strands away. “Where are the kids, anyways?”

Eyes wide, Jungkook glances around the backseat. “Oh, shit. I knew I forgot something.”

“Ha-ha. The real answer?”

He chuckles. “They’re with Seokjin and Yoongi.”

Your brows shoot upward.

“Yoongi is the primary caretaker,” Jungkook assures. “Seokjin is more of… entertainment.”

“Perfect,” you sigh, returning your head to his shoulder. “I told Mia the type of karaoke machine Seokjin has only works in their neighborhood, but I don’t think she bought it. We might have to get her one for her birthday.”

Jungkook shakes his head, resting his hand on your knee. “She’s too smart for her own good, you know. Takes after you.”

“Sure does. Except Mia has a beautiful voice and I have the singing ability of a drunk walrus.”

“Are they known for their singing, or…?”

“Nope. Mustaches get in the way.”

Jungkook laughs, turning to press a kiss to your brow. “Later, though,” he murmurs, dropping his voice. “Once the kids are asleep, I plan to make up for these nights apart. Who knows? Maybe we’ll create that third kid we’ve talked about.”

Mischievous, you glance upward. “I don’t know… you’d have to put in some serious work for that to happen.”

Lifting a brow, Jungkook’s grip on you tightens. “I think I did a pretty good job of getting you pregnant with the first two.”

“Mm, but that was ages ago,” you sigh, head tipping backwards when Jungkook kisses your neck. “Back then, you were so young and spry. Now, you wear sensible shoes to the gym. Do you really think you have the stamina?”

“We’re in a moving vehicle,” he murmurs, low in your ear. “Which is the only reason I’m not fucking you to prove you wrong. Bet your pussy is wet just thinking about it, huh? Want me to spread these pretty legs and check, princess?”

Your breath hitches, chest rising and falling as his grip slides up your thigh. Jungkook brushes close to your center, maddeningly close and still not enough. Some people say desire diminishes with age and in some respects, Jungkook understands. That initial, frantic burst of sex diminishes but Jungkook doesn’t view it as a bad thing. That burst is replaced by trust, the knowledge that physical intimacy isn’t a replacement for intimacy of all kinds.

Not that the physical intimacy is gone, of course. That connection Jungkook feels when you touch him remains unchanged. A single look does more to turn him on than anyone else ever has.

Lifting a hand, you cup his jaw and scan his face.  “Unfair,” you complain. “Unfair for you to get better-looking with age when you were already hot to start. You know, I overheard some moms at Mia’s preschool calling you a DILF the other day.”

Jungkook tries, and fails, to hide his grin. “Oh, really?” he asks, returning his lips to your neck. “And what do you think, Y/N? Am I a dad” – his teeth scrape your throat – “you’d like” – his grip on your thigh tightens – “to fuck?”

“Yes,” you groan, arching into him. “Fuck. I mean, who am I to judge those moms for their impeccable taste? I’m the only one who gets to fuck you, so it’s really their loss.”

“Besides,” Jungkook adds. “You’re one to talk. Every time we go somewhere with the kids, I leave for one second and am forced to fend off all your admirers when I return.”

“What can I say? People know a good thing when they see it.”

“So do I,” he growls, low in your ear. “Which is why I proposed six months into dating. Are you kidding? There’s no way I’m messing this up.”

“I know. Me neither.”

Jungkook stares at you, silently warring with an internal dilemma. “I planned this all wrong,” he admits on a sigh. “I should’ve told Seokjin and Yoongi you landed at three.”

A laugh escapes as you open your eyes. “No, this is better. You know me – I want to see our babies.”

“Not babies anymore,” Jungkook says mournfully. “Jae turns two next month.”

“I know.” Drily, you arch a brow. “Having had the pleasure of pushing him out myself. And they’ll always be my babies. They’ll just have to deal.”

“Well.” Jungkook kisses your forehead. “At least they’ll have something to talk about in therapy.”

Huffing a laugh, you lightly punch his shoulder. Jungkook grabs you halfway, intertwining your hands for the rest of the trip. Despite what you said, it’s been a long trip and a few minutes later, you’re asleep on his shoulder. Pulling into the drive, Jungkook debates whether to wake you but decides you’d be more upset if you missed the kids.

“Wake up, princess,” he murmurs, unbuckling your seatbelt. “We’re here.”

Sleepily, your eyes open and you stare at the house visible through the side window. “Oh!” you blurt as you straighten. “Did I fall asleep?”

“Mhm,” Jungkook says, grabbing your purse. “You needed it. Do you want to stay in the car while I get the kids?”

“Nope,” you scoff, already opening your door. “Don’t you dare.”

Shaking his head, Jungkook follows you up the drive to Yoongi and Seokjin’s home. It’s a beautiful, contemporary style house built into the cliffs overlooking the ocean. For this very reason, Jungkook has barred Mia from playing outdoors but has the sneaking suspicion Seokjin lets her anyways. He’s a sucker for Mia’s big eyes and quivering lower lip.

Reaching the entrance, you ring the bell and stand back at the sound of thundering footsteps. The front door flings open.

“MOMMY!”

Jae is the first one outside, tripping over himself to reach you. Luckily, you catch him before he can fall. “Hi, munchkin!” you gush, swinging him upwards. “You’re getting so, so big! Did Yoongi feed you dessert for breakfast again?”

This last sentence is followed by a look at Yoongi, who’s appeared in the doorway. Yoongi shrugs, crossing his arms to lean against the frame.

Shaking his head, Jae wraps his tiny fingers around your wrist. “Nooo. He said that’s bad. Mommy, what’s ‘adult time?’”

Freezing, you glance once more at Yoongi, who seems momentarily flustered while searching for what to say.

“Uh… I’ll take Jae,” Jungkook says, hastily reaching out to transfer him to his hip. The look on your face has turned slightly ominous. “Adult time is the time when adults hang out and do adult things. Right, Yoongi?” he adds, widening his eyes.

“Uh, right.” Yoongi bobs his head. “That’s correct.”

“Oh.” A tiny wrinkle forms in Jae’s brow. “The adults play games?”

“Lots and lots of them,” Jungkook says, tossing a wink in your direction.

Rolling your eyes, you step through the front door, but Jungkook can tell that you’re smiling. “Where’s Mia?” you call.

“In the basement with Seokjin.”

Following suit, Jungkook glances around the vaulted foyer. A few years ago, when Yoongi bought this place, the walls were full of his trophies and Seokjin’s travel mementos. Now, they’re pseudo-uncles to both their kids and Hoseok’s, forcing them to baby-proof in each way imaginable. Breakable items are set on high shelves, sharp corners are sanded down and electrical sockets are covered.

As they head for the basement, Jungkook sees a black shape slink around the corner.

Reaching upward, Jae grabs the shell of Jungkook’s ear. “Mr. Whiskers is mean,” he attempts to whisper, but comes out at normal volume.

Mr. Whiskers is the name of the cat Yoongi has had for over ten years and is famously standoffish with anyone that’s not his owner.

Yoongi’s lips twitch. “He’s just scared we’ll like you better than him, Jae,” he offers. “And he should be! At least you tell us when you’ve gone poop.”

Jae giggles at the word poop, causing Jungkook to mock-gasp and cover his son’s ear. Following you to the basement, Jungkook stops short at the base of the stairs.

Mia and Seokjin are singing karaoke – again – but this time they’ve added make-up and costumes. Glitter has been smeared over Mia’s cheeks and she dances around the room in a neon blue tutu. Seokjin is similarly bedazzled, pink dotting each temple and every time his hair shakes, more glitter falls out. The song is a pop song that overplayed on the radio but despite this, Jungkook can’t help but grin.

Spinning around, Mia spots you mid-twirl. “MOMMY!” she cries, the sound reverberating when she forgets she’s holding the microphone. Dropping this on the ground, Mia launches herself around the couch and into your arms.

“Hi, baby!” you laugh, bending down for a hug.

Mia presses her cheek to your leg, glitter rubbing off on your pants, but you don’t seem to mind. Eyes closed, you hug her back as you rock to and fro.

Jungkook’s heart melts as he watches. Sometimes, his luck feels slightly overwhelming. When your eyes open and meet his over Mia’s shoulder, Jungkook knows you feel the same. It’s hard not to pinch himself to ensure it’s all real. To confirm he won’t wake up tomorrow in that cold, dead apartment he used to have.

Fingers tightening in Jungkook’s hair, Jae gurgles his laughter and Jungkook’s cheeks hurt from smiling. Mia takes you by the hand, dragging you to the couch to show off her routine. Joining the group, Jungkook bounces Jae to the beat while Mia squeals in delight, holding out her mic for Jae to yell, “AHHHHH!”

It’s a brand of chaos only your kids could create and Jungkook knows that, deep down, it’s something he’ll never be without again. He’ll make sure of it.

© kpopfanfictrash, 2023. Do not copy or repost without permission.

#bangtanarmynet #bts smut #jungkook smut #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #bts fic #jungkook fic #jungkook fluff #bts fluff

[fake-married-my-dead-fiance]

Now that we have come to the end of the drama... Drama vs. Webtoon time!

I'm going to do this one a little differently, head to head, did the drama or the webtoon do it better in Marry My Husband?

Drama did it better! ML's Original Death

So in the webtoon, Ji-hyuk goes to Ji-won's funeral and then just offs himself by walking into the sea. It's not super clear why, like he barely knew Ji-won, and it felt really pathetic. I preferred the car accident.

Webtoon did it better! Su-min killing Min-hwan's mom

This didn't even come close to happening in the drama, but Su-min comes home to find the MIL from Hell having a stroke and then just turns around and leaves her on the floor. When it looks like she might recover, Su-min injects air into her veins and she dies. Su-min goes to prison for this as she doesn't kill her husband. Anyway, the drama showed us MIL very sad after her son's death, but I preferred this ending since she spent so long abusing Ji-won in the original timeline.

Drama did it better! Not So Much Love Triangle

Poor Eun-ho spent a lot more time pining after Ji-won in the webtoon. Happy that he got resolution there. Also, never felt like Eun-ho had a chance in the drama which I preferred.

Webtoon did it better! Eun-ho & Hui-yeon

I couldn't believe how little screen time these cuties got! Give me Hui-yeon proposing (at least she confessed first), give me them being in love! Why was Eun-ho not in the time-jump scene at the end?

Toss-up: Mr. Lee & Mrs. Yang

I liked the character of Mr. Lee better in the drama, but I liked Mrs. Yang's story better in the webtoon. Mr. Lee is way too nice in the webtoon, I liked his supportive and yet kind of rude persona in the drama. However, I wanted more of their story, in the webtoon Mrs. Yang's ex tries to kidnap their daughter as leverage, which is stopped, and then Mr. Lee has a very cute relationship with Mrs. Yang's daughter, who asks her mom if she'll marry Mr. Lee. We didn't really get any confirmation that they would end up together in the drama!

Drama did it better! Min-hwan's ending

Was it so satisfying to see him get the same ending he gave to Ji-won? Yes it was. In the webtoon, he sabotages his own car hoping that Su-min will die and he'll get the inheritance money. But then he drives his car to see his mom (after her stroke) and drives off a bridge. I liked this ending better.

Drama did it better! Mains as Parents

I felt like the webtoon went a little too far in making Ji-hyuk the only providing parent. I'm all for women working, but it just seemed unrealistic to me. I liked seeing both of them exhausted on the couch with their twins.

Toss-up: Plots that I Didn't Love

I really disliked Yu-ra in the drama, who I guess had to be included so she could take Ji-hyuk's fate. I think the webtoon was smart to cut her and I found her really annoying and over the top. However, I also didn't love the plot in the webtoon where Ji-won catfishes both Su-min and Min-hwan so that she can reproduce the betrayed by a friend thing. So I guess they both struggled with the third act.

Webtoon did it better! ML Doesn't Inherit

In the webtoon, Ji-hyuk decides to run his own security company and Ji-won continues at the original company. I guess the drama preferred a super rich power couple, but the webtoon was better in that way for me. I didn't love Ji-won becoming a stereotypical rich wife with a charity...

Webtoon did it better! MORE CAT

Pang (mold) the cat has a whole chapter from his POV in the webtoon. It was so cute!

Drama did it better! The Family Dinner

Honestly, I didn't think anything could top the webtoon's family dinner where Ji-won shows up in her revenge get-up, but I just loved Ji-won flipping Min-hwan so much!

Lastly, the drama really made Min-hwan and Su-min great characters. All the awards for Su-min's actress especially. Those two really came alive in a way that the webtoon just didn't do.

(and yes, I know the drama was based on the original webnovel but I'm not reading that, I like webtoons, and both are adaptations so fair comparison).

#tw: suicide mention #webtoon vs. drama #manhwa #marry my husband #spoilers

[inoreuct]

What if, in some circumstances which I cannot even think of, Sanji cannot cook himself and has to tell Zoro what to do.

And Zoro's sword skills are NOT equal to his knife skills 😭

Sanji also would use fancy chef vocabulary to give commands like "now sauté those onions until they're godlen-brown" or something and Zoro's like da fuck's a co-lander. why would you need like 5 different pans.

BADABING BADABOOM HERE YOU GO REG MY DEAR technically pre-rs but they act like they’ve been married decades. ANYWAYS enjoy 🤭🤭

Zoro swore as the knife slipped again, skidding flat against the chopping board with a dull scrape that made him wince. 

In hindsight, this was all the stupid cook’s fault. Bastard just had to go and break his arm; Sanji had tried to do things one-handed for a while before he’d evidently gotten fed up and stuck his head out the galley door to scream for Zoro to help with lunch at top volume, apparently under the assumption that since Zoro was a master swordsman he’d be able to handle knives.

And by all rights, he should. He was the demon pirate hunter. He carried his best friend’s dream like a talisman in his pocket. He wasn’t going to let himself be bested by a fucking vegetables and a knife.

But Zoro was quite certain that barring his sense of direction, he had never been quite this bad at anything in his entire existence. 

The garlic had been miniscule, the celery had been too fucking slippery, the onions had made his eyes burn, and now this stupid carrot kept trying to run away from him. He could handle rough chops, sure; but when Sanji was being all picky about— 

“I said medium dice, marimo, not mutilate.”

“I don’t know what that fucking means, shithead,” Zoro gritted, not even bothering to turn around where Sanji was sitting at the dining table. He re-aligned the knife and felt inexplicably betrayed when it slipped again, slicing diagonally into the carrot. It was a miracle he hadn’t taken off a finger yet. 

He felt stupid. Awkward and useless and out of his element, it was just cooking, for fuck’s sake—

“Marimo.” 

“What,” he snapped, fingers tightening around a wooden handle. Sanji’s tone had gone soft around the edges and it rankled him, made him feel irrationally angry like a tiger pacing around in its cage, trapped and seething—

“This one’s on me,” Sanji murmured, coming around to hover by his side, something Zoro couldn’t identify in the set of his face. “Shouldn’t have assumed that you’d be good with knives just because you’re good with swords.”

The words sent a wave of panic through Zoro, stomach dropping fast enough that he ran his mouth. A need to please he hadn’t felt since he was a child. Desperation not to disappoint. “Shut the fuck up, I am, I just—” He snapped his jaw shut, pressing his teeth together hard. “Just… Give me a minute to figure it out.”

“You’re already doing better than I was, when I started,” Sanji said lightly, hair falling across his face as he tipped his head. 

“You were a child,” he ground out. The knife clattered as he put it down to shake out his hands. “S’not saying much.” 

The cook hummed, strangely gentle. “Still. It’s alright—”

“I don’t want your pity.”

And, oh. That’s what it was, wasn’t it? Pity. Zoro felt like a dumb kid again, and it was so much worse because it was Sanji. And he didn’t want to think about the implications of that, so he sneered, “Don’t look down on me, shitty cook. You and your fancy-ass cooking terms and your hundred and one pans and—”

Sanji cut him off with a bark of a laugh, tossing his head back. His left arm was immobilised in a sling, tucked close to his body as he moved behind Zoro and reached around him to pick the knife up again. “Your brains must really be full of moss if you think I’m looking down on you. Come on.” He offered Zoro the handle, and the swordsman didn’t need to look to know that Sanji was smiling over his shoulder. “One last try.”

He worked his jaw for a second, and huffed through his nose. “I fucking swear, curly, if I get cut—”

“You won’t,” Sanji replied, resolute as he watched Zoro take the knife. 

“How do you know?”

“Because you’re not stupid and I’m not careless, especially not with you.” 

The last part had been a little quieter, riding on a rushed breath, and Zoro eyed the cook pensively as slender fingers wrapped around his hand.

“Here. Like this.” 

With Sanji’s help, he cut the carrot into lengthwise sticks and then neat cubes, chopping up a few more before dumping the whole lot into a bowl with most of what he’d already cut. Sanji shifted away, poking a chopstick into the oil he’d left to heat.

“See the bubbles?” he murmured, peering down into the pot. “That’s how you check if it’s hot enough.” He twisted one of the knobs down before grabbing the vegetables and dumping them in, shifting the pieces around with a wooden spatula as they sizzled gently. “This is a mirepoix,” he said, pronouncing it meer-pwah. “It forms the flavour base of a lot of dishes. The aim is to use low heat, cook it down really slow— so that it doesn’t burn and you bring out the sweetness.” 

He was speaking softly enough that it could have been to himself, but the commentary was obviously for Zoro’s benefit, and Zoro. Did not like how that was making him feel at all. 

They were quiet for a while as Sanji did his thing, and the swordsman crossed his arms as he leaned his hip against the counter. The sun filtering in through the window was lighting Sanji’s hair up gold, washing his features in a subtle glow that emphasised the softness of his expression, relaxed and so entirely in his element that it made Zoro’s chest ache. Made something press up beneath his lungs, made it hard to breathe, and it ached.

Impervious to his inner turmoil, Sanji continued, stirring frequently as the galley started to smell really good. “When the onion turns translucent, that’s the sweet spot—” The chopped (more mushed, if Zoro was inclined to be honest) garlic from earlier went in with a vicious sizzle, then a few dashes of different sauces and a good pour of chicken stock. “Could you get the black pepper?” 

Zoro grunted, grabbing the grinder from the corner and putting a few good cracks into the pot as Sanji added salt, stirred one last time, and propped the lid on partway. “That’s it?” 

“That’s it,” Sanji confirmed, smirking, but not unkindly. “Once that simmers down it’ll be our soup, and I’ll just have to cook some noodles. I was planning for mussels in a garlic butter white wine reduction and seared scallops with this delicious spiced pomegranate and herb glaze, but— I think that might have killed you.” Something must have shown on Zoro’s face, because the cook laughed, bright and easy. “You did good, marimo, all things considered. I’d probably be horrid at sword fighting. We’re even.”

Zoro scowled, fighting back against the spark that flared in the depths of his chest at that thought. Sparring with Sanji, in his element, giving the cook shit for it but also helping. Teaching. “Hurry up and get better, and we’ll see.” 

Sanji groaned, rolling his eyes even as he chuckled. “You’re gonna kick my ass, aren’t you.”

Maybe. But even more than that… He thought about how Sanji had held his hand over the knife, patient but not condescending even though he could have been, the skin of his wrist cool against Zoro’s forearm. The look on his he face as he did what he loved and the way it had made something warm bloom behind Zoro’s sternum. The swordsman let his teeth peek in a lazy grin as his chin tipped up; an entire challenge. Half of the bite. “We’ll see.”

fin.

#zosan #zosan fanfic #one piece zosan #op zosan #zoro x sanji #mirepoix was one of the first things i learned to cook this was so nostalgic #also zoro’s less repressed than i expected wowwwwwww #ronoroa zoro #one piece zoro #one piece sanji #black leg sanji #one piece #vinsmoke sanji #ask box #ino’s ask box

[yoonlattesworld]

Hi:)

I love your writings 💞

Can you do a very shy reader interrupting yoongi's vlive?

Shy and innocent-MYG

Idol yoongi x shy reader

Synopsis: he wanted to hide you from the harsh world filled of envy and hatred. But soon he realized that it was time to face the world together. So why not start with a live filled with millions of people?

Genre: soft fluff, teeny tiny angst

Warnings: none but my cutie patootie shy mc and her cutie patootie loving boyfie.

Main masterlist

Yoongi masterlist

A/n: hello my lovie I'm so sorry it took so long but i hope you like it! And thank you very much 💖

Author's pov

You sighed for the nth time as you tossed on yoongi's side of bed hoping his scent would help you sleep but although it gave you a sense of comfort, the sweet slumber never came.

You were slowly starting to feel annoyed because half an hour ago you were feeling so sleepy you almost fell asleep on the dining table so yoongi told you to take a nap which you were very much looking forward to. But the moment you laid on the bed, all the sleepiness disappeared and you were suddenly wide awake.

You assumed you'd pass out the moment your head hit the pillow because of how many you woke up last time. Maybe you knew what would help you sleep but you didn't have the heart to disturb him.

Although he has told you many times before that you never have to hesitate to enter his studio if you need him for anything. He reminds you many times that you can freely call him and he would leave everything pending just to hold you if you want. But even after dating for almost a year, the shyness in your voice while asking for something never disappeared.

You've been shy ever since you can remember. Hell you'd even think twice before asking something from your parents because you didn't want to bother them. That's the reason you've been laying on the bed wide awake since almost 45 minutes because you were too shy to ask him to come and hold you. Sometimes it became very frustrating to overthink every possible scenario before asking for something.

You have no idea how can yoongi be so patient with you when you'd beat around the bush half the time before finally saying what you wanted to. But yoongi has no problem with it. He has made it clear many times that he finds your shyness endearing. He thinks your eyes resemble of an innocent puppy's.

Kicking your legs in frustration you pouted as you yanked the blanket off of your body, suddenly feeling a little too warm. Should you go to his studio? What of he's working? What if he gets mad at you for disturbing him? No he wouldn't get mad right? It didn't help that you were feeling sick since yesterday. You'd get extra clingy whenever you were sick.

Flopping back on the bed you whined quietly.

~▪︎~

Yoongi leaned back on his chair with a small sigh when his eyes caught another 'yoongi marry me comment' he hid a smile behind his hand as he thought of how many marriage proposals he had gotten in the last year. Leaning forward, he squinted his eyes to read the comments which were flowing a little too fast "i can't read the comments when they're going so fast" he rasped, his voice deep and the small chuckle leaving his lips even deeper as he saw a few more marriage proposals.

'I already have someone i want to marry' he thought to himself as he talked about random things to entertain the millions of armies watching. Sometimes he wondered if his and the other member's lives were boring or not. But hell millions of people watched jungkook Wash dishes so he assumed talking and replying to comments won't bore anyone.

"Yoongi oppa what do you like in a girl?" He mumbled before humming deeply as your smiling face popped in his mind. "I don't know maybe i like a simple girl who shares my interest in music?" He questioned 'i like the innocent shyness in a certain girl'

He smiled fondly as the image of you shyly kissing him goodbye before he went to work, came in his mind. He almost started talking about you when an army commented "do you like shy girls, or bold girls?" And this wasn't the first time it happened.

There's been many times when he has almost started rambling about you,his hidden girlfriend. Sometimes he wants to hide you in his arms, and keep you to himself so you wouldn't have to get hurt from the harsh world. But there are times when he wants to show you off to the whole world. Show that you're the only girl he loves. Of course armies are a very precious part of his life. But he wants to show everyone that no rumored female idol or actress can take your place.

He knows that the countless articles about him rumoured with an idol bothers you but you've never once questioned him. He knows that you have your full trust In him but he also knows that you try to hide your sadness in front of him when your eyes catch another useless article. He knows that you want to be able to go outside freely without any fear of someone seeing you both. He wants nothing more than that either. But he also knows the dark side of this world which is filled with envy no hatred. He knows what the feeling of getting constant hate can do. He has experienced it and he never ever wants you to experience the same thing.

Hell he's willing to carry all the hate on himself alone just so it wouldn't reach you. That's why even after being together for almost a year, he's still not ready to reveal you to the harsh world. He's aware that the true armies will love and accept you for who you are. But still he can't help but worry-

"yoongi?" his eyes snapped up towards the door when the softest whisper reached his ears. He momentarily forgot about the curious fans watching him when his eyes took you in.

It felt like he fell in love with you all over again.

You looked like an angel, peeking from the door, just wearing one of his oversized white hoodie. It was big on him so obviously it was huge on you. Your pretty long hair seemed a little messed up and he assumed you had been tossing around on the bed. You smiled shyly which lifted his lips in his own soft smile.

Looks like you both hadn't realised that he was still live and the comment section was flooding.

Bts.love: why are you smiling?

Purple/girl: what is he looking at?

Bangtanlove: someone is there with him

"hi" you whispered giving him a little wave to which he extended his hand towards you, mumbling "hey doll, what's wrong" you shaked your head and pushed some hair out of your face as you stopped forward and took his hand, allowing him to pull you towards himself.

Again the comments went crazy

Meow: who is doll??

Certainarmygirl: OMG HE'S HOLDING SOME ONE'S HAND

Kookiegirl: yoongi?!?

"nothing's wrong I just missed you" you said shyly as you stepped in between his legs. His hands found their place on your soft bare thighs and he gave them a soft squeeze, completely unaware that people could see you. Well not your face because you were standing but it didn't take long to understand that a girl was standing In between their beloved idol, yoongi's legs, wearing yoongi's hoodie and playing with yoongi's hair while said yoongi looked up at you like you held the world in your arms. Again completely unaware that millions of people were going crazy at the moment.

Yoongi'swife: h-he has a girlfriend

Yoongimarryme: goodbye time to leave and become a saint

"I missed you too babygirl" he rasped taking your hand and pressing soft kisses on the tips of your fingers causing you to giggle softly when something moving on the laptop caught your eye. The said something moving being the comment section. Your eyes widened as you realised that the live was on and people could see him holding you "oh my god" you gasped taking your hand away from his hold and stumbling back until you were out of the view.

Yoongi looked at you with wide eyes as you pressed a hand over your mouth and pointed at the open laptop "wha-" oh. Yoongi blinked at the laptop realising that he was now looking at not 5 million but 13 million people. How in the world did it get to that point in 5 minutes??

"what do we do now?" you whisper yelled, watching yoongi sighing and burying his face in his hands for a second but taking a deep breath and looking the laptop again. While you were freaking out thinking of every possible outcome, yoongi was as calm as ever. "well" he cleared his throat before looking at you with a low chuckle "come here doll"

Your eyes widened even more than before. He must be kidding right? You shook your head rapidly only for him to raise an eyebrow "come here. Everything will be fine" he mouthed, his eyes determined and full of love. You hesitated for a moment before taking a small step ahead until you were yoongi's reach and he pulled you on his lap.

"oh god" you whispered as he wrapped his arms around your waist and kissed your head "army" he smiled "meet my girlfriend"

You were almost shocked at fast the comment section exploded. Almost because right now you were shocked because yoongi suddenly announced that he is in a relationship. Looking up at him he mumbled something about not being able to read the comments and you whispered "I'm sorry I didn't knew you were live"

Looking at you with a soft smile he mumbled "it's okay doll. I wanted to do this since a while. You gave me another reason to" you smiled slightly as he leaned down to press a soft kiss on your lips "now answer the questions angel. It seems like they're now here for you" he chuckled as you smiled nervously seeing all the questions flooding in.

"isn't she lovely?" yoongi grinned as you shyly waved at the camera "hi I'm an army like you all too" you smiled "it's nice to meet you, my name is y/n"

Sugagirl: you're so pretty!

Btsarmy: yoongi how can you do this to us?! 😭

Certaincat: at least I can get a partner now that he's not single

Of course there were a few questionable comments too but yoongi didn't give you a chance to see them.

Yoongi sighed, leaning back against his chair and watching as you continued chatting with the fans as if you all were life long friends. Well now no one wants to see him I guess.

Kissing the back of your head he rested his hand on your bare thigh, as he whispered "I love you doll" you looked at him for a second as you smiled softly "I love you too"

Thank god weverse didn't have an option of sending voice recording because somehow, people were squealing in the comments so what would happen if there was a recorder?

•...•

Taglist

@bunnyrhe @yoonaasa @rosquilleta @raineandskye @shymagda-7 @creatorspalace @iheartsvt @xmochiloverx @kyojuro-ska @meow-min @kissme-ornot @wobblewobble822 @kookieaddicted96 @thelilbutifulthings

#bts yoongi #bts #yoonlattesworld #yoongi x reader #yoongi x reader fluff #yoongi fluff #min yoongi smut #min yoongi x reader #yoongi fanfiction #yoongi smut #yoongi x reader one shot #yoongi x reader smut