#anyway back to the compliment it just made my heart burst

[kvtie444]

☆⋆｡OMW

part 2

A/N: this is so long and not proof read oops 

Summary: you and matt never saw eye to eye but after a shitty night out he pulls thru lol

Warnings: steamy make out lol, mentions of drinking, swearing

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Chris and I are platonic soulmates. Our bond is unbreakable, and no amount of persuasion can alter that fact. We consistently resonate on the same frequency, fitting together seamlessly like a puzzle.

In contrast, my interactions with Matt have been a continuous clash. For as long as I can recall, we've been at odds, seemingly incapable of finding common ground or fostering a harmonious relationship.

It was around 2:30pm Chris embarked on a solo basketball game whilst I sat in his pool. I had connected my phone to the speaker and was playing my music, whilst chris was screaming about his skills and how he’s “ready to sign”. Our fun was quickly interrupted when the backdoor slams open. 

Matt.

"Whoever's playing that shitty trap music, turn it down! I can't even hear my own thoughts," he grumbled, shooting an irritated glance at Chris, who promptly rolled his eyes and gestured toward me. "Y/N, turn it down," Matt repeated.

"My phone's over by the pool's edge, and my hands are wet. You can do it yourself," I retorted, flashing him an annoyed expression.

He scoffed before making his way over, grabbed my phone, adjusted the volume, and placed it back down. For a moment, he gazed at me, his eyes meandering over my body, before returning to my face. Confused, I playfully splashed a bit of water on him. "Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to get back to whatever boring things you were doing before?" I inquired, earning a snicker from Chris as he approached, placing his hand on his brothers shoulder.

His eyes bore into mine, but our moment was abruptly interrupted when Chris shoved Matt into the pool. "Shit," I giggled, while Chris burst into laughter, and Matt quickly pulled himself out of the pool, throwing Chris a solid punch on his arm. "What the fuck?!" he shouted, as Chris whined in pain like a petulant child. My smile faded into a more serious expression. "Matt, it was just a joke. We're sorry," I decided to extend an apology on Chris' behalf, aware of his pride.

Matt's gaze turned to me, his shirt clinging to his skin, his tattoo-covered arms glistening with water, and his drenched hair. My heart rate quickened; not only was I feeling a bit nervous, but he looked fucking good. He simply kissed his teeth and walked back into the house. As soon as the door shut, Chris turned to me with a goofy smile, still giggling. "You're so childish," I said with a smile, swimming over to the pool's edge and propping up my elbows as he sat by the ledge next to me.

"Oh, yeah, almost forgot. You have to come out tonight," he insisted.

"I already said I don't want to—" I began, but he interrupted me.

"Nah, Y/N, my boy Louie is practically begging me to bring you. Please," he whined.

I sighed. Louie was undeniably attractive, tall, and a hooper. Maybe it was time to step out of my comfort zone. I glanced at Chris's pleading eyes and relented. "Fine," I mumbled - He flashed me a smile before reaching for his phone and sending a message to his gc.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

It was 11 pm, and Chris and I had just exited the Uber in front of the upscale nightclub ; it was a more sophisticated venue, and I was determined to make a good impression on Louie. To that end, I had chosen to wear a sleek black strapless mini dress that complimented my figure.

Once inside the club, we made our way to the bar, where Chris spotted his friends, including Louie. Quicks greetings were exchanged, and we ordered a round of shots to kick off the night.

As the evening progressed, Louie and I engaged in playful flirting, danced together, and I genuinely felt happy — and wasted.

After some contemplation about whether to visit the restroom and risk "breaking the seal," I decided to go anyway. I stumbled my way through the crowded club until I bumped into Chris.

"You good?" he yelled into my ear over the pounding music.

"Yeah, just need to piss," I giggled at him, attempting to focus my blurry vision. After ensuring that I was okay, Chris let me know that he was leaving with a girl to go back to her place.

"Are you sure you're okay? I told Louie to stick with you, alright? He'll meet you by the restroom," he said, his tone becoming a bit more serious.

"It's all good. Love you," I replied, giving him a hug.

"Love you, kid," he replied before leaving me to continue on my mission.

After using the restroom and emerging, I headed back to the dancefloor, finding myself alone in the midst of the energetic crowd. My steps came to a sudden halt when I spotted Louie. However, as I focused my gaze more intently, I realized he was grinding behind another girl. I couldn't help but scoff to myself. And then, in no time, they began to make out. It was clear that it was time for me to make my exit.

I stepped outside the club and pulled out my phone, tapping through my contacts, hastily sending a series of messages to the first person who came to mind.

“maaaaaattrttt”

“duck uber”

“fuck”

“comem plszzzz”

About 2 seconds later, my phone screen lit up with an incoming call – it was Matt. I answered and brought the phone to my ear, “mattttt” I slur. "Where are you? Where's Chris?" Matt inquired with a serious tone.

"He left with some girl," I replied, pausing for a moment. "And I bought a whole fucking Skims dress for a guy who didn't even appreciate it and got with someone else," I whined, leaning heavily against a nearby brick wall. There was a moment of silence before Matt spoke up.

"So, you're alone?" he asked, clearly concerned about my state.

"Yeah," I replied.

"Stay there; I'm on my way," I heard him say as he grabbed his keys and left his house. A smile crept across my face as I heard this. However, my thoughts were interrupted when I witnessed a drunken man stumbling and falling over across the road, creating a noisy commotion with a flurry of swears and yells.

"Y/N, stay on the phone, okay?" Matt urged.

"I am, I am," I reassured him. We remained on the line in silence, occasionally interrupted by a soft hum of me singing. I spotted a familiar car pulling up, its bright headlights making me squint. As I stumbled over towards it, I saw Matt emerging from the vehicle and walking towards me.

He wrapped one arm around my waist and took my phone and bag into his other hand, guiding me into the passenger's seat. Leaning over, he secured my seatbelt for me, catching a whiff of his cologne before he walked around the car to get back into the driver's seat.

"Thanks," I whispered, glancing at him as he started the ignition.

"How much did you drink?" he inquired. I responded with a nonchalant shrug, followed by a fit of giggles. After a brief silence, I decided it was a good time to speak up again. "Matt, I'm sorry abou—"

"Listen, Y/N, I'm just going to put you in Chris' bed. I don't trust you to be home alone in this state. It's 4 in the fucking morning, so can you please behave?" he snapped back. I playfully rolled my eyes at him and whispered, "Make me," seemingly unaware of my volume.

His head turned back to me, the red stoplight casting an eerie glow on his features, before he focused on driving as the light turned green.

"I was just going to say, I'm sorry about the whole pool incident earlier, making you wet and all... Yeah," I replied, fiddling with my fingers. He let out a sharp exhale, and before I knew it, we were pulling into his driveway. Matt got out of the car, then opened my door for me. He unbuckled my seatbelt, and I held onto his shoulder for stability as I stumbled out of the car. He helped me inside the house and guided me to the couch. As I sat down, he leaned over and readjusted the bottom of my dress, causing my cheeks to flush red.

He left the room for a moment, leaving me alone until he returned with a bunch of items in his hands. Sitting next to me, he handed me some painkillers and a water bottle. As I took the medicine, I could feel his eyes on me.

"Did Chris really just leave you?" he asked, his voice filled with concern.

"Yeah, but it wasn't like that," I replied, defending my best friend. "Still a dick move," Matt responded. There was a brief silence before he spoke up again.

"I brought you some clothes," he said, handing me a stack of folded clothing. "Don't have any makeup wipes, though."

"It's fine, thank you," I smiled at him, feeling a sense of vulnerability. I stood up and took the pair of blue plaid pyjama bottoms, attempting to put them on under my dress. A confused expression crossed Matt's face when I put them on and turned around. I then grabbed the black Ransom hoodie and recklessly threw it on. Unbeknownst to me, my head got stuck in the armhole, causing my voice to muffle. I heard Matt stand up and chuckle.

He removed the hoodie from me before looking into my eyes. "You need the dress off," he said. I felt my face heat up before he continued, "I can leave the room, but..."

"Stay, I'll probably end up breaking my neck if you don't. Plus, I'm wearing a strapless bra, so it's fine," I replied.

He shot me a soft smile, a rare sight from him, before reaching for the hem of my dress and pulling it off me. "Be careful; it cost me like £80," I whined. He softly chuckled, "It's nice, and you look good in it," his eyes roaming over my body. The cold air sent shivers down my spine before he grabbed the hoodie and helped me put it on. My vision was restored as my head peeked through the neckline, with my hair tucked under it.

His hands reached up to gently cradle my face, his touch lingering on my jawline, and his intense gaze locked onto mine as the tension in the air thickened. "Why do you act like such a dick to me?" I asked, my curiosity getting the best of me. He bit the inside of his cheek before speaking up, his voice soft and hesitant, "I don't like any of Chris' friends. They're all pricks, and I kinda just associated you with them. But, I actually like you."

A smile grew on my face. "Yeah?"

He nodded, replying with a simple "Mm." Instinctively, I leaned in closer to his lips, but he unexpectedly pulled back slightly, a look of confusion and hurt washing over my face. "I don't want to do anything if you're drunk," he said.

"I'm fine, Matt, I promise," I responded, now feeling more sober. His expression was unreadable, but in the next moment, he pressed his lips to mine. He pulled away briefly, and I instantly chased his lips, yearning for more. Gently, I pushed him down onto the couch before straddling him, deepening the kiss. His lips trailed down to my neck, gently sucking and marking me up as I gasped and tugged at his hair, pulling a quiet, heavenly moan from his lips.

His tatted arm securely held onto my waist, while his other hand reached behind my neck, pulling me impossibly closer to him. As his head craned back up to capture my lips again, the front door unexpectedly swung open. We both whipped our heads around, and I jumped off him. "Shit, who is that?" I whispered-yelled to him.

"Yo," we heard Chris yell as he ascended the stairs. He quickly entered the room, his eyes darting from mine to my neck, an understanding expression crossing his face.

Matt you fucking idiot.

“what the fuck?!”

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#fluff #chris sturniolo x reader #angst #imagine #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #smut #Spotify

[captain-mj]

Being what you are and what you could be

Simon's father is sitting on the couch when he comes home. There's lines of blow on the table. He stares at him with hate in his eyes.

Simon pulls his hood up and tries to just go past.

"Your Mum is out with a friend."

Simon nodded. "And Tommy?"

"Out at a party."

Simon nodded but tried to keep going.

"Simon. Stop."

He paused, foot still in air. "Yes sir?"

Mr. Riley glanced at him. "You look just like your mother."

Simon swallowed. "Thank you."

"Wasn't a compliment."

He let out a breath. "Can I go? I just want to go upstairs, Dad."

Mr. Riley stared at him. "You're going to end up just like me. You know that right?"

Simon paused and looked back at him. "What?"

"You're going to grow up. You're going to find someone. Probably some fucking blond. If you're like me, they'll be weak. You'll think you're in love. I know you will. You're fucking soft."

Simon tried not to shake. He wouldn't cry. Couldn't cry. But emotions still broiled and bubbled in him. It wanted a way out but nothing happened.

"But. You'll find yourself getting angry. Really angry. You'll hit them. And you'll think to yourself that you won't do it again. That you're better than me. But you're not. You're angry and vicious and I made sure you're full of sharp edges, just like me. You'll backhand them. And then you'll realize, well. They deserve it."

"Sounds like you're making excuses." Simon swallowed. "You do horrible things and say it's in your nature. it's not. You're just a shit person."

"And you're my son. What does that make you?" Mr. Riley waved his arms, smiling. His teeth were damaged from years of drug abuse. His mom had insisted that Simon and Tommy get braces as soon as possible. "You're made of the same cloth as me. Burned by the same fire. You'll always be a monster, Simon. I'm sorry for that. If I had been a better person, I would've made your mom abort you."

Simon bit his lip until he felt it start to burst. He just stared, not really having words to respond to that with. He was 16. Just got back from working. His hands were still raw from where he had scrubbed them. Fingers still sore from holding a butcher's knife.

"You're going to hurt everyone you ever love, Si. And there's nothing you can do about it. But knowing you, you'll let them in, anyway. You're soft like that. Your heart is soft. Squishy. Better learn to fix that. Make it cold. Because being loved by you? It's a death sentence.

Now fuck off. You look too much like your fucking mom."

~

Ghost had never felt so pissed in his life. He glared at Soap, feeling actual venom bubbling into his mouth. Preparing to say something vicious. Cut him with his tongue or bruise him with his fists.

Soap and Ghost stared into each other's eyes.

Ghost swallowed.

Soap had beautiful eyes.

He huffed and Soap looked defensive. "What's that about?"

"Sorry just... You look beautiful."

Soap let out a startled laugh. "What?"

"And you're not blond." Ghost said softly before softening. "I'm sorry."

Soap blinked rapidly. "Did something happen?"

"I don't... want to repeat my father's mistakes."

"Oh, mo chroí-"

Ghost grabbed him and, showing as much gentleness as he could, put his arms around him. "Love, it's okay. Not like that. Just... I love you."

Soap squeezed him. "I'm sorry too. You wanna try this again?"

Ghost took a deep breath and let go of Soap before letting it out. "Yeah. Let's try this again."

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #simon ghost riley #johnny soap mactavish #call of duty modern warfare ii #cod mw2 #ghostsoap #cod #soapghost #ghoap

[lovebugism]

If you’re still taking requests for the blurbs could I request my favorite couple Punchy and Steve with this prompt?

“let’s wear matching ugly christmas sweaters to the party! ❞ 

thank u for requesting lovie! — hours before the harrington holiday party, steve's worried if his parents will like you while you think of ways to make the whole thing more fun (punchy x steve universe, hurt/comfort, 0.9k)

blurbcember ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

Cotton sheets cling to Steve’s sweat-slick body. He lies face down on the mattress, curls his golden arms around the pillow that smells most like you, and smushes his cheek into the center of it. He watches with heavy eyelids as you flit around the bedroom, only half-dressed — the high-strung thing that you are.

You stand outside your closet in black cotton underwear and a striped pink bra, ciphering through all of your clothes until you have three different outfits hanging on your arm. They’re all in black, but Steve’s been with you long enough to know that they’re all varying shades of the same color. (He thinks you might’ve made up the color heather grey charcoal, though).

“I take it you’re excited for tonight?” the boy teases when you set your clothes on the foot of the mattress. His smile is rosy and half-hidden in the pillow, weighed down by fatigue and all the love he has for you.

“Of course, I am!” you insist, giddy in a way he hasn’t really seen you. “You’re not?”

“No,” he answers plainly, pouting like a child.

Your laugh sounds like sunshine compared to the rain cloud he is. “Don’t be so grumpy. It’ll be fun.”

Steve scoffs and turns onto his back, folding his toned arms under his wild head. The thin sheet wraps around his waist accordingly. His chestnut-colored happy trail peeks from beneath it — just for you, you think.

“It’s a Christmas party. At my parents’ house,” he explains in a monotone. “I think that's the furthest thing from fun, babe.”

“Well, we can make it fun,” you shrug, as unfazed as ever. It makes sense. Excitement tends to follow you wherever you go. “We can, like, sneak in booze or something. Oh— or smoke in your childhood bedroom! That would be fun.”

“My parents would freak.”

You think for a moment, then shrug again. “I mean, we could wear matching ugly Christmas sweaters or something. That’s innocent and fun.”

Steve doesn’t mean to laugh, but a small chuckle spills from his kiss-bitten mouth before he can stop it. “You’re so cute,” he mumbles lowly, honey eyes sparkling with amusement and adoration.

“I know,” you concur as you smooth out the skirt of a black lace dress. You try to be nonchalant about the way his simple compliment stirs rays of sunshine within you, but they come bursting out of your sheepish smile anyway. “Thank you…”

“You’re welcome,” he says, huffing as he rises on the mattress. Still slightly exhausted, he slouches and reaches lazily for you. His dramatic grabby hands make you scoff, but you gravitate towards him without thinking twice.

You fold your legs beneath you as his wide palms smooth over your waist. He squeezes gently at your love handles and tries to muster a smile. The pink expression wavers slightly at the edges.

“Just… Just don’t take it too hard if my parents are assholes at first, okay? Or if they’re, you know, cold or whatever. They’re not usually fans of… fun.”

Your grin never falters. “That’s okay,” you assure, light and sincere. “I’m one of the two town freaks, remember? I’m kinda used to people not liking me.”

You giggle about it, but Steve’s chest starts to ache. He thinks his heart might be breaking a little.

“They just need to get to know you, you know? Then they’ll fall in love with you. I know they will.”

His confidence makes you cower. You’re not as sure as he is about the whole thing. You’re not exactly rich-parent, nice-house, good-side-of-town material. You think you might be the exact opposite of who most people would want to bring home to their parents.

“You think so?” you murmur, hands fidgetting where they rest on the outsides of his biceps. You hope he doesn’t notice how clammy they are.

“I mean… I did,” he answers with a scrunched nose and twinkling eyes.

A beat of silence passes. Steve smiles until you roll your eyes at him. Then his brows pinch. “What’s that face for?” he asks, chuckling at the frown that furrows your brows.

“You’re so cheesy,” you grumble, shoving gently at his bare chest. Not enough to push him away, of course. Just enough to make a point.

His laugh is golden and utterly boyish. “But it’s true!”

“I know,” you insist with a small scoff in place of a laugh. “You didn’t look twice at me in high school, and now you’re naked in my bed. So obviously something switched.”

Steve flashes you a lopsided grin and tilts his scruffy jaw to his freckled shoulder. “Is it everything you ever dreamed of?” he teases.

“Oh. Totally,” you laugh. “I definitely had a wet dream about this once.”

His face swirls in disdain. “You’re disgusting.”

“And you love me. So who’s the real freak here?”

“It’s always gonna be you,” he says with a big, dumb smile. You roll your eyes again but let him kiss you, anyway. He tastes like sex and the frozen pizza you made him after. You’re sure you taste much of the same.

“And guess what?” he wonders when he pulls away.

Your face falls flat. You humor him even though you know what’s coming. “What?”

“I’m always gonna love you for it, too—”

You shove him away entirely. His boyish laugh follows you all the way to the bathroom.

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #st drabbles #stevie drabble #event: blurbcember #punchy x steve

[iwritefandomimagines]

CHRISTMAS SPIRIT — JESS MARIANO

masterlist

pairing: jess mariano x reader

description: decorating luke’s for christmas reminds you how far from festive jess is. but it might also lead to confessions that put him much more in the christmas spirit.

warnings: little swearing. fluff !!!

author’s note: shoutout to i’ll be home for christmas in this imagine is because it’s my all time fave xmas film and i had a HUGE crush on jonathan taylor thomas as a child because of it. it’s also not super long but i made sure it’s not too short… anyway ENJOY! <3

“Y’know, I don’t see why you have to be such a Grinch,” you pulled the candy cane from between your lips as Jess scoffed, “All Luke asked was for us to put up a few decorations. Even he has more fucking Christmas spirit than you!”

Jess rolled his eyes, “Oh sure, because I’m usually so enthusiastic about stuff like this. How out of character of me,” he paused to touch his forehead with the back of his hand, “I must be getting ill.”

You tutted, placing the last of your candy cane back into your mouth with a crunch! and folding your arms across your chest.

He quirked his brow, waiting for a snarky response that never came.

Instead, you turned on your heels and headed over to the stereo, flicking the switch and resuming the Christmas CD you’d been listening to before he’d grumpily trundled down the stairs into the diner.

“Oh God,” Jess groaned, “Do you seriously enjoy torturing me?”

You scoffed, “Do you want the honest answer?”

It was at that moment Luke briefly poked his head round the corner, “What are you two bickering about now?”

You crossed your arms over your chest as Jess did the exact same thing, except with a huge wad of tinsel now attached to his sweater.

He waved his arm around frantically as you burst out laughing at his desperate attempt to rid himself of the sparkly red decoration, “For fu—,”

“Ask Ebenezer Scrooge over here,” you teased, freeing Jess of the tinsel by yanking it away as Luke rolled his eyes, “Just help her out, Jess.”

“What does it look like I’m doing?”

“Being a moron.”

“Fork found in kitchen,” you mumbled, earning a glare from Jess, “We’re nearly done, c’mon.”

Jess fought back a smirk, folding his arms again and shaking his head, “You’re a pain in the ass, Y/N.”

“At least I’m a festive pain in the ass,” you sing-songed, twirling tinsel around the cash register as he laughed at you, “Hey, I can see a smile there! He can smile! What a heartthrob. I could almost mistake you for Jonathan Taylor Thomas in I’ll Be Home for Christmas.”

“I look like who from what?” Jess contorted his face in confusion, unsure whether what you were saying was a compliment.

Kirk appeared out of nowhere beside you both, an inquisitive expression on his face, “Jonathan Taylor Thomas from the 1998 Christmas movie I’ll Be Home for Christmas. I have to say I think you’re wrong though, Y/N. He doesn’t have nearly as much of his boyish charm.”

You burst out laughing again, clasping your hand to your mouth as you watched Jess blush just a little as he stood slack-jawed.

“Boyish charm? I’ve got plenty of boyish charm,” Jess scoffed, puffing out his chest, “Why do I look like him anyway?”

“Oh, you don’t,” Kirk shrugged, “Y/N just has a crush on him and a crush on you.”

“Ok that’s quite enough from you Kirk,” It was your turn to blush crimson now as you gestured towards the tables, “We’re not even open yet. You—uh— just go sit down.”

“A crush on me, huh?” Jess was smirking now, and you couldn’t tell if the bubbling in your stomach was sheer embarrassment or excitement at the way he was looking at you.

Obviously, it was both.

You shook your head, “Oh, ‘cause you should totally trust Kirk.”

Jess quirked his eyebrow, “When it comes to town gossip, I’d say I do.”

You looked down at your feet, cheeks still incredibly warm and your heart palpitating so hard you were sure it’d burst out of your chest at any moment.

“You know, you’ve gone bright red. So red in fact that I think it’s put me in a festive mood,” Jess quipped smugly, elbow on the counter as he leaned a little closer to you.

You scoffed, “It took me being embarrassed to feel festive?”

Jess shook his head, and said nothing for a moment.

You wondered whether he was about to embarrass you even further, but his expression softened so much that it confused you.

“No, it took being told that you do like me,” he shrugged, but he was clearly not as nonchalant about it as he was trying to appear, “To save me the embarrassment of a not so festive rejection under the many, many Christmas lights— seriously why do we need so fuckin’ many?”

Your heart swelled at his initial words, but you rolled your eyes yet again at his grumbling about the Christmas lights, “It’s Christmas, Jess. And so pretty.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Jess was quieter as he spoke now, his eyes twinkling as he moved even closer to you, “So pretty.”

Now you were certain that every drop of blood had rushed to your cheeks, the intensity of his stare making you bite your lip and look away again.

His hand lifted up to touch your cheek, drawing your eyes back to meet his.

Your mouth had gone dry, and you couldn’t help but notice how carefully he watched your lips as your tongue swiped over them.

“You—I—We need to finish decorating and open up, Jess,” you stammered, but Jess wasn’t letting you get out of this conversation now.

“If it wasn’t for Kirk, I’d really like to kiss you right now,” he looked briefly away and saw that Kirk had seemingly entirely disappeared, “Oh, it might be my lucky day. Now I’m really feeling festive.”

You giggled, “Then what—what’re you waiting for?”

He didn’t waste a moment after that, immediately capturing your lips with his as you leaned into his chest.

The kiss was short lived, but you almost didn’t mind because your mind was racing at the fact that it was actually even happening at all.

Jess beamed across at you as you pulled back, your eyes locked on each other for a fair few moments of silence.

“I’m finally in the Christmas spirit, Y/N,” he sing-songed as he finally broke the silence, still staring intently at you as you shivered under his gaze, “So much so that I think I’d like to go watch the town Christmas lights being switched on tonight. If you’re up for it. If not, like, whatever. Just a suggestion. Since you love Christmas and—,”

You laughed, placing a hand on his bicep to interrupt his rambling, “I’d really like that, Jess. Even if you are going to drive me nuts complaining about the lights, it’d be nice to go. Like, together.”

Jess seemed pleased with that answer, a broad smile overtaking his face as he leaned in even closer, “It’s a date, then. And now we can get back to decorating.”

You bit your lip, “A date. Woah, Jess Mariano is taking me on a date to see the Christmas lights getting switched on. If I didn’t know any better I’d think I was still tucked up in bed dreaming.”

“I’m in your dreams a lot then, huh?” he teased, the smirk back gracing his features as you gently nudged his arm, “My nightmares, maybe.”

“Hm, guess you dream about that John Tyler guy more then,” he feigned offence, and despite mistaking the name you found his pout incredibly adorable.

You laughed, “Jonathan Taylor Thomas?”

“Mhm.”

“Don’t be jealous, Mariano,” you hummed, leaning into his side as you teased him.

“I’m not jealous,” he grunted, “What does he even look like anyway?”

You giggled, and he didn’t seem impressed by the way you went straight into your head thinking about the actor, “You’ll find out later when I force you to come back to mine and watch it with me after the lights are on.”

“No fuckin’ way!” he shook his head, and you forced a pout until he sighed, “Fine. Only because I like you. And I’m choosing our takeout if I’m going to be third-wheeling you and the TV on our first date.”

You grinned, “Fine by me. It’s a date!”

“A date? Finally, kid,” Luke reemerged for a moment again, poking his head around the corner of the kitchen.

“He’s taking me to see the Christmas lights being switched on,” you grinned, watching Luke’s brief shocked expression being quickly replaced by a small smile.

“The lights?” he repeated, and you nodded.

“I knew he liked you, I mean the whole town did. But it looks like he must really like you, huh?”

“Yeah,” you basically whispered, looking over at Jess for a moment and seeing him smiling softly at you despite his irritation at his uncle poking his nose in, “I guess he does.”

———

happy festive season guys!

this has been in the drafts for a couple weeks near finished but i’ve finally got it done now <3 might write some more festive imagines so if there are any characters you’d like to see that for then please let me know.

as usual — thanks for reading, here’s my masterlist if you’d like to read more of my stuff!

#jess mariano x you #jess mariano x y/n #jess mariano #jess mariano imagines #jess mariano x reader #jess mariano imagine #gilmore girls imagines #gilmore girls #gilmore girls imagine #milo ventimiglia

[flowerwrites06]

l'amour de ma vie — myg

L'AMOUR DE MA VIE | Love of my Life | Requested by anon.

Plot: Insecurities pile up in Yoongi's marriage after months of distance and neglect. Pairing: Pianist!Yoongi x Ballet Teacher!OC (Name: Kiku) Genre: Music & Ballet | Marriage on the Rocks Type: One-shot Rating: 18+ Word Count: 4.6k+ Warnings: marital insecurities, unintentional neglect, jealousy, mentions of divorce, mild mentions of injury from ballet, explicit sexual content (rough sex, unprotected sex, squirting). Author’s Note: new one-shot, friends! i really hope you enjoy this one, I loved writing it! be sure to let me know what you think!

REQUESTS ARE OPEN! Send your ideas in by August 1st before it closes!

Yoongi was a serious man. Kiku knew this well in the years she knew him. Their marriage didn’t flourish like fresh romances with many kisses and open affection but quiet trust helped their relationship stand strong.

When the doors closed, Yoongi often made up for his silence with soft kisses on her skin, calloused finger pads running down her neck and sneaking in between her core until she soaked the sheets.

However, things changed as the concerts began to pile up. When they were touring together as equal performers, Yoongi was active in ensuring that she heard compliments whispered in her ear. That he stared her way when she was on stage and she would sneak a look back whenever able.

Now Kiku wasn’t an equal performer and Yoongi’s attention on her was. . .low. Though Kiku understood why. It was concert season. Of course. That’s the only reason.

Of course, Yoongi was active and his face brightened like stars when he performed but lost the light in his eyes when he looked at her. It was exhaustion. It must’ve been. He would tell her if something was wrong.

Tonight was the same as the previous nights for. . .how long had it been? Two months, maybe three. Yoongi thrilled the audience with his performance, fingers dancing over the ivory keys like they were an extension of his own digits. Like the music was the air he breathed, exuding out of him. Kiku found it deliciously mesmerizing.

The audience roared with applause as the performance ended.

Yoongi bowed to the crowd, roses thrown his way before he walked backstage. Sweat slick on his forehead, pearling at the jawline. His grin disappeared immediately when he reached here. Kiku felt the weight of the lost smile but she leaned in and kissed his cheek anyway to congratulate him.

Yoongi barely leaned into it and rushed to change his clothes.

It was just exhaustion. Just exhaustion. Nothing more.

***

Today turned for the better. At least Kiku hoped as Yoongi received his first free day away from practices or concerts so he can enjoy the Italian sights for a while. The day was beautiful indeed, sun blazing gold amongst the sandstone buildings and flowers beds at the cafes burst in vibrant colour.

Kiku even wore her favourite silk corset dress with a thin cardigan over top for the spring breeze. Her black waves reached down to the small of her back and her enthusiasm thrumming to excitement. She felt as if she was waiting for a first date.

Yoongi finally entered the living room, wearing a white shirt and trousers.

“Did you want to go out to a café today?” Kiku asked, her voice kept soft and sweet. “It’s a beautiful day.”

Yoongi barely looked her way. “I have a small meeting with the producer. He wants some changes to the later performances,” he said. His tone was rushed and serious. As always. Everytime he began thinking of work, that was his tone.

Kiku knew this and she told herself this the moment her heart started squeezing unbearably. “When will you be back? Maybe we can go later.”

“I’m not sure. You can go by yourself and enjoy,” Yoongi said before rushing out without waiting for a response.

Breathing through the aches in her chest, Kiku did pick herself up and enjoy Italy. It was concert season. It was concert season. Everything will be back to normal once they’re home. It’ll be fine.

***

France was the next destination. This time, Kiku was invited to a ballet studio in Paris to teach some classes and have a studio room of her own to practice if she needed. It kept her distracted. Italy emptied Kiku and even the plane ride to France was Yoongi discussing things with his producer, Minho while she sat alone in her corner.

The dance studio brought her full of life again, the golden vines consuming the marble building like a living organism. The varnished wood floors, silk shoes and flowing dresses that returned Kiku to past days. To. . .happier days, she thought with a pain inside her.

Kiku and Yoongi fell in love during a different France tour years ago. Kiku was a prima ballerina in her early twenties. Lovely and enchanting, they called her. Yoongi played all her songs for her, watching her every move as if catering to her own movements and not the choreography itself. There was an intimacy behind that cohesion, that connection that not even six years of marriage managed to create. Perhaps that was a bad thought to have. To romanticise the first year of love as opposed to the commitment they were in now.

She should be happier now. She was happy. Happy, yes.

Was Yoongi happy? Was he happy that he watched her perform? Was it okay that Kiku was no longer that prima ballerina? She was no longer quite as lovely or enchanting.

Kiku danced every now and then but after an injury, her doctor encouraged her not to do performances like she used to. Otherwise it may lead to permanent damage. Yoongi supported her through her strained muscles, helping her through her exercises and reassuring her. But perhaps Yoongi didn’t plan on needing to take care of her. Perhaps the thought of her never being that ballerina again dawned on him and he grew distant.

No, it was silly. Silly to think it so. They were happy. Happy. Happy.

***

Kiku made her way to the stadium where Yoongi had his practice and performance later in the night. She brought fresh food from a nearby café with a small spring in her step. Sweet notes of the piano echoed in her ears. Even the tonality and energy of the notes made her know that it was Yoongi. It gave her both this nostalgia and fresh nuance of something new, like a first kiss or a sneaky touch on the back of her hand.

Kiku smiled at the people backstage, placing the food on the table.

“This’ll be good for the newer performances,” she heard Minho say as they looked out to the stage.

Kiku followed their gaze and saw the new addition. The reason why Minho wanted to have so many meetings. A young ballerina was on the stage, dancing freely to the notes played by Yoongi.

Her grin was bright and energetic, understanding completely the importance of her performance carried out. Lovely and enchanting.

Kiku knew it was normal for pianists to do this. To have different performances showcase creativity and enthusiasm. But the sight of it felt like stones crushing her slowly. It was normal for this to happen, she told herself. Yet Kiku felt it deep in her heart, deep in her gut, this unbearable pain when the reality sank in.

Kiku didn’t belong to his world anymore.

She was a wife who tried to be part of his world but not in his world.

Perhaps Yoongi knew this and stayed silent to protect her feelings. He never liked confrontation. Or it just didn’t matter and he would get rid of her after the tour.

“It’s amazing, isn’t it?” Minho asked. “Back to his roots?”

Kiku attempted a smile as she always did. Attempting a smile. Maintaining an energy to make sure everyone else felt good. To make sure Yoongi felt good, without burden.

“I’m feeling a bit unwell,” Kiku said. “I’ll be going home.”

“Don’t you want to wait until he finishes?” Minho asked, confused. Kiku never left once she got to Yoongi’s practice, not even when she was sick.

How silly she was. Constantly leering at the edges of a place she didn’t belong to anymore. Trying to squeeze into a place in Yoongi’s heart that was probably getting smaller and smaller. He had no time for her. Kiku couldn’t force him.

Oh, the thought of it burned her eyes. Her stomach felt like it was singed.

Frustration pricked at her. “I’ll talk to him when he gets home.” She lied. He’ll be fine without me.

***

Yoongi adored having more performances linked to his piano pieces. While he enjoyed having his solo acts, it was nice to be in the background for a moment and allow for his music to be interconnected with dance or a story. The exhaustion and boredom that begun to linger in the past performances rejuvenated back into a sense of excitement. At least the final shows of the tour were something of energy and new light.

The ballerina bowed elegantly after the practice performance. Yoongi returned backstage with his heart pumping through his ribcages at asking Kiku whether she liked the new addition. She had grown a bit quiet towards the end of the Italy leg. Perhaps seeing some of her own art showcased on stage would bring her spirits up.

Except Kiku wasn’t there.

“Did Kiku not come yet?” Yoongi asked before gulping a bottle of water.

Minho, his producer, shrugged. “She said she felt unwell. But you have food.” He gestured to the apricot pastry, sandwich and coffee on the table.

Yoongi was used to having Kiku sit there with him as he ate or eat with him. Having the chair next to him empty felt cold and unwelcoming. She must’ve been really sick. “I can go early to check on her.”

Minho hummed. “I mean you can but it’d be safe to do another practice run.”

Yoongi stared at the empty chair for a while. Maybe she was asleep and he would only be disturbing. Besides, he had a few shows left. Might as well get it all out of the way.

***

Night already fell into a deep dark abyss by the time Yoongi was done with practice. He wanted to come back home in the afternoon but he got distracted at work. It was a habit of his, long rotting inside him yet hard to rip away. Moonlight painted their hotel room in a pale silver before Yoongi turned the light on for a splash of warm apricot light against the crème couches and opulent lamps.

“Kiku?” Yoongi asked.

There was no response for longer than Yoongi was comfortable.

But then Kiku walked through the bedroom door, wearing a soft cotton lace nightdress with her hair, a little messy from a nap. Her eyes were soft and glossed, her cheeks sweet and a little puffed. Kiku didn’t move from her spot, looking at him carefully.

A small part of Yoongi’s body had gotten prepared for her to walk to him and kiss him on the cheek. A more selfish part of him expected her to wait for him because she always did, even when she was sniffling from sickness. “You weren’t feeling well?”

Kiku stared at him, as if confused by Yoongi’s concern like it was foreign to her. Yoongi hadn’t seen that look on her face and something about it hurt her. “I’m feeling better,” she said softly.

“Is it your legs?” Yoongi asked, a little more careful this time.

Kiku still looked at him like that. Like Yoongi hadn’t spoken to her of such intimacy in a long time.

Well. . .he didn’t, did he? When was the last time Yoongi asked her if she ate well? Or slept well? Or even how she was? Yoongi tried his best to remember. He must’ve had asked her how she was this morning. Or kissed her. But he couldn’t remember. He couldn’t remember the last time he had any conversation with her.

“I’m alright, Yoongi,” Kiku said. “Get some rest, it’s okay.”

Yoongi wanted to argue that he could give her a massage or help her get better but Kiku already walked back into the room. Without a smile or a kiss. The air grew cold again and Yoongi worried that his habits may have touched a nerve too delicate for his own good.

***

“An extension?” Yoongi had a single finger tapping softly on a D note, not pressing it for sound but thinking as Minho announced that he wanted to have a few more weeks of shows. “The tour has already gone on for months. We all need rest.”

Minho hummed, waving his hand. “You can rest later. This’ll be good for your career.”

It would be. Especially with ballet studios from France wishing to administer their own ballerinas into the mix, it would be so good for his career. But a shadow loomed over him. Kiku’s distance wasn’t going unnoticed by Yoongi. She hadn’t been to any of his practices since that day and it had been a week already.

Kiku wasn’t sick anymore. Something else was wrong.

“Kiku and I’s anniversary is in two weeks. I don’t want to be busy in a concert during that time, we’ve never worked on anniversaries.” Yoongi shook his head. He remembered how she worked around her training schedules to ensure that their anniversary was always free. Something was already wrong and for Yoongi to break a tradition along with it was stupid.

“Well, Kiku can come along with you.” Minho smiled. “She can even train the ballerinas herself, she’s a qualified teacher. Spend your anniversary in Paris.”

Yoongi could try to get a free day during the tour again. He had a free day in Italy, which he used to have a work meeting. Maybe this time, they could explore France. “Alright, I’ll talk to her.”

***

Kiku was at a ballet studio, Yoongi was told. Not by Kiku but the hotel receptionist who was asked to send a message if Yoongi tried to look for her. Kiku always texted him directly if she wanted to communicate something but they’ve resorted to this now, he supposed. Yoongi made his way to the ballet studio, the smell of wood and perfume wafting in the air as he walked up the stairs to the top level practice area.

Kiku was there, wearing a flowy white skirt, transparent, crème with a black top. Her hair was open as she always kept it when practicing dances on her own. Even after the injury, her every move was precise, the pointe of her toes like an ethereal being and her form like a swan.

Yoongi remembered watching her all day. He had become so used to her presence, close to him like his own extension. After all this distance, he was once again the humble pianist watching a prima ballerina conjuring magic with her dance.

Dark, pretty eyes flickered to him then and Kiku stopped, her expression neutral again.

Yoongi tried to push down the squeeze in his chest. He wanted her to smile at him again, to rush to him and kiss him. But she stood there, distant and unmoving. “I—Minho wants to extend the tour.” He wanted to make a more personal introduction but the room turned cold so quickly, he couldn’t muster the right tender words.

Kiku stared at him, a twitch in her eye. So she was uncomfortable. “It’s alright. It’s good for your career.”

Now she was keeping her feelings hidden from him.

Hurt turned to a flash of frustration. “You weren’t at the practice.”

“I figured you didn’t need me hovering over you all the time,” Kiku said plainly.

“You’re my wife, I want you there.”

“Well, you haven’t exactly been doing a good job at showing it.”

Ah. His bad habit. Still rotting inside him and now it was rotting at the seams of his marriage. Kiku’s neutral expression flashed with truth now, making Yoongi wish she was hiding it again. It wasn’t anger. Not really. It was deep hurt and helplessness. “Kiku.” His voice was meek. It made him feel stupider that he realized it immediately yet too late.

The hurt solidified behind Kiku’s expression.

“I wasn’t doing it on purpose, I was—”

“Busy, I know. Believe me, it was the only word I’ve hinged on to. . .gain strength.” Kiku let out a long sigh, soft and weary and slow.

Yoongi knew it was to hide her voice shaking as her eyes turned glossier. He hated it. Hated that he was the reason. Hated that he didn’t even know it because he never felt he had to. Kiku always had herself put together, always a sturdy foundation. So much so that Yoongi grew too lax. Too careless. And now it was coming back to haunt him in the flesh.

“You can continue the tour without me,” Kiku said.

“No.”

“It’s stupid to cancel the tour on my accord. You’ve come this far.” She shook her head.

“I am not leaving you.” Yoongi’s voice raised a little, desperate and pleading. “Kiku. I wanted you to be with me, spend our anniversary in France.”

“I don’t want to be in France.” Kiku’s throat bobbed up and down. “It reminds me too much of what I’m not anymore. Of what I can’t be.”

“What do you mean?” Yoongi asked.

“I’m not the wonderful ballerina I used to be,” Kiku whispered. “People look straight through me and it never bothered me but now. . .you do too.”

Yoongi’s heart dropped. “Kiku, I never. . .I don’t care if you’re a ballerina or not, it doesn’t matter to me.”

“It doesn’t matter to you because you can always put a new one on stage.” Her voice cracked then, unable to hold herself together. “I can’t find some other person who will think I’m worth keeping.”

“I’m keeping you,” Yoongi argued. “I know I’ve been wrong to distance myself from you but that will never change the fact that you’re mine. And I’m yours. All of it, always.”

Kiku stayed silent, finally letting out a shaky sigh. It was that slightest glimpse of vulnerability that gave Yoongi hope. The wall wasn’t cement, it was a curtain still, giving him to room to walk closer so he could catch the faint waft of a tea and jasmine in her aura.

Yoongi held onto her fingers gently at first. He waited for her to slowly curl and clasp back, giving him another chance to walk even closer. His hand reached up her arm, cupping her cheeks and kissed her. A fire roared inside him, feeling her warm kiss back again. It had been too long. Feeling the soft strands of her hair through his fingers, the taste of her and her warmth pressed against him soared through him with sweetness.

Yoongi leaned Kiku against the barre, lifting her enough to rest against her back against the mirror. Yoongi kissed her neck, suckled on the softest part of her skin and bit into it. The slight ache on her skin awakened her nerves.

Kiku ran her fingers through his hair, tugged at the scalp to ground her to reality. That this wasn’t a dream but her own beloved husband, tasting her skin after so long. Her hips desperately rubbed against the bulge forming on his pants, the weight of her body already pressing down against the barre but she didn’t care.

Kiku snuck her hand in between them, rubbing his hardened bulge before unbuttoning his pants. Her fingers wrapped gently around his thick member, twitching against the soft skin of her palm. Her index traced up the angry vein, teasing the slick tip until he let out a moan against her collarbone.

Yoongi lifted to look at her. Kiku smiled and sucked his arousal off her index, keeping her dark lust-blown eyes fixed on him. Yoongi gripped onto her jaw, pushing her cheeks in until her lips protruded. He kissed her again, harder this time as he reached under her skirt and ripped her thin panties, the delicate cloth soaked in her own arousal.

Kiku laughed, drunk with lust as she grabbed onto Yoongis length and aimed it at her sodden cunt. Time showed in the way Kiku felt so snug. She let out a small shaky whimper as if Yoongi entered her for the first time. Kiku gripped onto the barre as Yoongi gently pushed through the tightness, letting her adjust to him again.

Kiku grazed her nails against the fabric of his shirt, yanking off the buttons so her fingertips could trace his skin. She let out a pleased sigh as his entire length sunk inside her, his body flush against hers until they were one.

“I love you,” Yoongi whispered.

Kiku let out a small whimper, forehead pressed against his as tears burned in her eyes. Both an overwhelming flash of love and pleasure soared through her deliciously. “I love you too.”

As the declaration left her sweet lips, Yoongi began to thrust into her. Slow at first, ensuring that she felt the tip of him at her cervix and every ridge inside her remembered him sliding out. She dripped with arousal, making the wooden barre glisten. Yoongis hips moved faster, pistoning in a pattern that maddened Kiku.

Yoongi pulled at the sleeves of her top, sneaking it down until her nipples popped from their covering. The cold air of the ballet studio made them erect. Yoongi leaned and wrapped his lips around one of them, lapping his tongue on the tip until he felt her clench around his cock.

Kiku threw her head back against the mirror before kissing his temple. Yoongi was patient in his attention, moving to her right nipple and giving it the same love. Such affection. His pace quickened as her pleasure began to swell to its limit.

Yoongi gripped onto the back of her thighs, locking her against the wall and pounding into her. Without mercy and with the most delicious desperation that forced a string of moans out of Kiku. Never had she felt so free to let out all the noises she wanted.

His thrusts got harsher, her wet cunt slammed over and over again until even the barre began to squeak under the pressure. Then he paused suddenly with a pant. Kiku let out a choked scream as Yoongi buried himself deep, shaping himself inside her and carrying her off the barre. Kiku spewed another whimper, muffled against his shirt.

Yoongi let out an excited breath as he placed her shaking feet on the floor. Turned Kiku around and had her face her flushed, tear-stained and pleased expression in the mirror. Her hair had turned dishevelled, the front strand matted to her forehead. Yoongi gently placed his fingers over her neck, nose buried in her hair, the lovely scent of jasmine and her sweet arousal suffusing the air. “You’re mine. My love.” He whispered.

Kiku smiled, swaying her hips before he started pushing himself in again. This time much easier, wet and welcoming. “I’m yours.” She caressed his sweat slick cheek. “Yours. All yours.”

Yoongi hummed, thrusting into her again. Deep and hard. Each thrust felt like a shake through her whole body, making the memory of him linger until she dreamt about it days later. “Am I yours?”

Kiku let out a soft chuckle. “You’re mine.” Another rough thrust had her nearly sobbing as it hit her sensitive spot. He still knew where it was.

Yoongi panted, using her noise to thrust in that same position. Kiku bent over against the barre with a whimper, her knees nearly buckling but still wanting more. “Does it feel good, baby?”

Kiku stammered a response as he fucked into her again, her lower belly felt full, ready to roll over the edge. Yoongi pistoned into her ensuring that the same spot touched again and again. “Feels good, baby, don’t stop.” She cried out.

Yoongi groaned, leaning in and sneaking one of his hands between her legs. His calloused fingers rubbed her clit as his own orgasm rushed to the edge. “I’m gonna cum.”

Kiku let out a trembling breath, gripping on his forearm as her lower belly. Begging to release. “Cum inside me.” She turned her head and kissed his cheek. Then the coil sprung. Spurts of sweet nectar had her whimpering, a light choked scream as a light gush splashed on the floor.

Yoongi panted as his orgasm burst into madness, thick and warm as it filled Kiku’s womb. Messy and beautiful. Their thighs slick with the most wonderful arousal as he held his love in his hands, most of her weight rested on his grip as she trembled through her high. “Fuck, I missed you.”

Kiku chuckled, the tingles of ecstasy flooding through her like a blind bliss. “I missed you too,” she whispered, touching his cheek again. “Don’t be away from me.”

“Never. Never again.” And Yoongi held to that promise just as he held her. He would never let this go again.

***

Minho never hid his disappointments when it came to him. Except Yoongi wasn’t quite the same as all his other rookie musicians, who would fall back in line once they saw the displeased purse of his lips. “It would’ve been good for your career. Your wife should understand that much, she’s done the same with her career.’

“Kiku made her career without sacrificing time in our marriage,” Yoongi said. “I should be held to that same standard.”

Minho hummed, raising his hands in defense. “I mean if that’s what you want.”

“You did want to go to Greece for another tour so if that’s in the cards.” Yoongi already expected the sudden brightness in Minho’s face. He didn’t like disappointment but he did like something to do. Perhaps preparing for a future tour in Greece would allow for Yoongi to spend more time with Kiku.

Minho clapped his hands. “Greece and a few more dates in Japan as well. Kiku’s home country, that could make her happy.” He waved his hands, smiling to himself as if he wasn’t just ready to have a tantrum a few minutes ago. “Enjoy your anniversary.”

Yoongi smiled, feeling a wave of relief that he was appeased. No more tour dates anytime soon. Which meant he could go home when the sun was high in the sky and he had comfort waiting for him at home.

***

They took a plane back to their apartment in Korea the next day. The familiar dark wood, ferns and home-grown lettuce were well-tended to by their friends while they were gone. Kiku recognized the smell was different after a few months. Sadness pricked at her but it was bittersweet, not all bad. She was home again.

Kiku and Yoongi made dinner together to revive the smell of home. Warm rice soup, spinach salad, fresh steamed rice and spiced mapo tofu to fill their bellies.

“I’m thinking of opening a ballet studio,” Kiku said.

Yoongi’s brows raised mid-chew. “You want to teach?”

Kiku nodded with a smile. “I still want to dance and the doctor said just not to do performances. So teaching.”

“If you want a part-time piano player, I’m free.” Yoongi grinned.

“Without an interview?” Kiku frowned playfully. “My ballet studio would have more standards than that.”

“I mean I am sleeping with the owner, you could pull a few strings.” Yoongi shrugged.

Kiku’s lips parted in slight shock. “That’s highly inappropriate. You would have to show me your talents.”

As they put away the dishes for their lunch, Yoongi walked over to the grand piano perched on the space between the kitchen and living room. He reached out to his work bag and pulled out a few pieces of paper with hand-written music notes.

Yoongi played with the ease of breathing as he always did, except this music was the softest it had ever sounded. Delicate and sweet. Even the way his fingers moved on the keys were floating like a swan. A ballerina.

Kiku padded over to the piano, stood behind him and leaned her chin against his shoulder. She peered over the title and saw L’amour de me Vie. Love of my Life. Her heart burst with joy as she rested against the crook of his neck. “Who’s it about?”

Yoongi laughed, playing softer. “Depends, do I get the job?”

Kiku smiled and kissed his cheek. “Fine. You’re hired.”

“Then it’s you,” Yoongi said, smirking. It will always be you. 

masterlist

#yoongi #suga #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts angst #bts fanfiction #yoongi fanfic #yoongi angst #yoongi smut #marriage au #pianist au #yoongi fic #yoongi x oc

[mvltisstuff]

hi! sorry to bother you! could you make a fic about evan buckley inspired by “i can see you” by taylor swift ? thank you anyway and hope you’re having a great day!

i can see you - e.b

summary: request

evan buckley x reader

gif from @housewifebuck

a/n: you’re absolutely no bother lovely, i apologize that this is so late, but thank you so much for leaving a request nonetheless <3 i hope you enjoy this, this is my inspiration of the song as well!! also let me apologize in the meantime that this is not proofread :)

each time his hand simply brushed up against hers, a whole new level of delusion entered y/n’s mind. it doesn’t matter if they were grabbing the same cup for coffee, or if they were retrieving something from the engine on a call. his rough, but warm fingers lightly feathering her knuckles, but even the slightest touch was ecstasy.

she tries to keep her composure, her job needing her focused at all times, but he made is so damn hard. every time his bright blue beads crossed paths with her own, it formed sparkles of attraction in y/n’s mind.

y/n’s never been one to be distracted, but buck completely started to own her mind. it was like he put her in his own prison, something she couldn’t escape from.

buck could always sense her eyes burning into him, and he silently loved it. he could feel the flames in her eyes and the admiration she had for him. he would be lying if he doesn’t stare back when she doesn’t notice. bucks always been one for a little game, anyway.

the way she parts her hair for work, and how she walks around the station and saunters around the bar with a drink in her hand. her gentle hands could cure anyone, and buck simply just wanted them on him.

they both can feel the aggressive spark that’s threatening to burst between them, but they’re too scared to do anything about it.

buck could always tell on her face when she got flustered by his presence.

he loves it.

if he had to sneak behind her, he’d place a hand on her lower back and brush his chest over her back, the fabric uniforms rubbing together. he can almost feel the halt in her breath as he passes by.

if she was across the table while they were eating, he’d lean back in his chair, giving her the slyest smirk and running his finger over his forearm tattoo. he wishes he could feel the rush of emotions she got from glancing at him.

he payed attention to the little details, the small things that made her heart race. the rolling up the sleeves, fidgeting with his fingers, whispering small things to her that no one else heard.

he did it until she couldn’t take it anymore, until the night where she would finally pounce on him and claim him as hers, compared to the jail she’s in.

the shift had just ended, and it was long. it wasn’t necessarily all the calls they went on, but it was the looks y/n was getting from buck the whole day. it’s so difficult to be a professional when a man like buck is so close to controlling her every move. nonetheless, she still opted to go to the bar with her team. she stopped by her apartment to change first, then driving back over and entering the bar.

she was wearing a new pair of jeans, one that complimented her figure perfectly and a white tank top, along with an LAFD jacket hanging off her shoulder. buck had a white button up on, with a regular pair of pants that still looked hot as ever to y/n. it was like a breath of fresh air, to see him in different clothes.

she moved up to one of the stool, choosing the one next to buck. she ordered a cocktail first, watching buck sip at his glass.

“you must come here a lot,” buck starts.

“you stalking me, buck?” she jokes, accepting the drink from the bartender. he chuckles quickly, looking y/n up and down her body, taking in every beautiful part of her.

they exchanged quick talk for a lot of the night, ordering each others drinks and almost forgetting that their other friends were there. y/n could hardly focus on anything but bucks bright smile, and the way his tongue swiped along the back of his teeth when she teased him. it made her want to scream.

it made her want to pull her hair out in the best way when his fingers ran through his hair, and he watched her internally fall apart. all because of him.

soon enough, the drunkenness had taken over their minds a bit, and buck noticed the lust in her eyes as she leaned into her hand to gaze at him.

“like what you see?” he asks, not peeling his eyes away from hers.

“why are we still playing this game?” y/n wonders, giving buck a quick moment of confusion before completely understanding. he wants to hear it though, and he’s determined to hear it.

“and what game is that?”

“buck, come on,” she sighs. “don’t be an idiot now.”

“i’m not an idiot, sweetheart,” he smirks. “i just want to hear you admit that you want me.”

she laughs quickly, turning her head away from him and then groaning into the air. “i can’t possible boost your ego any more.”

“tell me, y/n,” he scoots himself closer, one of her thighs in between his as he inches himself toward her. before he can think to move again, she grabs his bicep, pulling him toward the back of the bar.

once they’re in the single bathroom, she clicks the lock behind her and shoves him against the door. when he turns back to look in her eyes, her heels are off the ground and her hands are on the side of his face.

her soft, sweet-tasting lips touch bucks for the first time, taking in the taste of her lip gloss and the smell of the liquor on her tongue. he moves his own hands down to her sides, pressing his fingers into her skin. she groans a bit into his touch, but she only craves for more connection from him.

she only pulls away for a quick breath, only to rush back for more and feel his arms wrapped around her again. the light chattering of the people in the bar became inaudible, the only two people in the world at that moment were buck and y/n. despite their tipsy selves, the kiss between them blurred anything in their mind. they both only wanted more, never wanting to leave a moment like this behind.

“does that tell you what you want to hear so bad?”

#911 #911onfox #bobby nash #eddie diaz #evan buckley #evan buckley fanfic #athena grant #henrietta wilson #evan buckley x reader #evan buck buckley x reader #evan buck buckley #evan buckley fanfiction #evan buck buckely #evan buckley x you #evan buckley fic #evan buckley 911 #evan buckley one shot #evan buckley fluff #evan buckley angst #evan buckley x female reader #evan buckley x y/n #chimney 911 #chimney han #maddie buckley #may grant

[janeway-or-the-highway]

My entry for the @25daysofvoyager ! A little part 1 of a J/C fanfic. Fluff. Action/Adventure. Angst. Aliens mistaking JC as married again. Enjoy!

“Chakotay, please!”

Kathryn dodged another blow and stumbled backward.

“Chakotay! This isn’t you!” She shouted at him, still struggling to put any distance between them on her sprained ankle, before it finally gave out.

He strode toward her, but paused when he saw a large branch on the ground. He reached down and grabbed it, then seemed to test it in his hands.

“And how do you know this ‘isn’t me’?” Chakotay said, his voice deep, and dangerous.

“I know you!”

“No. You don’t,” he said, closing the distance between them and swinging the branch down on her.

THREE DAYS EARLIER

Captain’s Log:

“It is our second day in orbit around the planet Caldar. The Caldari are a very pleasant people and trade negotiations have gone well so far. The Caldari have graciously opened their planet to the crew for shore leave. Tuvok didn’t find anything to suggest bad intent and didn’t have any objections, which I guess is as close to a compliment as you can get from a Vulcan. It is nice to be reminded that the Delta Quadrant has just as many friendly species as dangerous ones. Everyone is in desperate need of some R&R. Myself included, as Chakotay is always reminding me. Being stuck in negotiations, Chakotay and I have only seen the government centers of Caldar, but I look forward to getting to explore this rich planet more. Chakotay mentioned hearing that the twin sunset over the cliffs of Rohem was worth exploring, and I am hoping to take him up on that. Tom and Harry keep coming back with stories to keep us entertained in the meantime. A personal highlight was Tom’s retelling of Harry’s failed attempt to ride, what Tom described as a horse-sized mix between a pig and a hippo. The Doctor says that Harry needs to be off-duty for 24 hours. I had to elbow Chakotay to keep him from bursting out laughing at the Doctor’s report; Harry’s already embarrassed enough as it is. However, that doesn’t mean that we won’t be enjoying those holo-photos later.

On the business side of things, Caldar continues to impress. The planet might as well be one giant ball of dilithium. You should have seen how fast B’Elanna made it to the bridge when the planet showed up on sensors. Their entire economy is built on the sale and trade of this material that we so often find ourselves scrounging for. At first, I worried about what they were going to ask for in exchange, but what the Caldari are most interested in are the various cultures of the Alpha Quadrant. Their people collect different cultures and integrate them into their own society. I recognize some bits and pieces of cultures from throughout the Delta Quadrant, while some things are completely new. However, the custom that is of the utmost importance is their one unique tradition. The Caldari take partnership very seriously. Their society includes partnerships of all kinds; males with males, females with females, and male with female, etc. Regardless of the type of partnership, once a pair has chosen each other, they become part of one another. This “sacred partnership” is at the heart of their civilization and they champion it above all else. However, from what I understand, they do not believe in the concept of soulmates, rather that they are all on a path that will one day lead them to their missing piece. It is a society built on the idea of the peaceful pursuit of love. It is quite beautiful.

Anyway, I am hoping to exchange our cultural database we will get enough dilithium to keep B’Elanna happy for quite some time.

Despite everything that this planet has given us, I find myself still apprehensive. The Delta Quadrant is rarely this kind and I…”

The chime to the ready room interrupted Kathryn’s log.

“Computer, end log” she said while pushing the console to the side,

“Come in.”

Chakotay walked in.

“Good morning, Commander,” a soft smile spread across her face.

“Good morning, Captain. I have the crew rotations for the next month.”

“Thank you. Have I missed any more of Tom’s stories since I’ve been off the bridge?”

“No, but you did miss Neelix’s rousing report promising ‘new and improved’ recipes for leola root” Chakotay chuckled as Kathryn’s face turned into a grimace.

“Hopefully they are better than his last ‘masterpieces.’ I’m still low on replicator rations from last time.”

“Me too. Mostly from you convincing me to get you more coffee,” Chakotay said with a knowing look.

Kathryn smirked, “Captain’s prerogative. Plus, you have to admit that his latest attempt at ‘better than coffee’ coffee was unbearable.”

Chakotay chuckled. “Well, if Caldari food is anything like their hospitality, I think that we will be alright.”

“Yes,” Kathryn stood and made her way over to the viewport. She clasped her hands behind her back, “The Caldari have been extremely welcoming to us.”

“But you’re worried,” Chakotay joined her at the viewport, “worried that they are too good to be true”

Kathryn gave him a sideways smile,

“Have you been reading my log?”

“No, I just know how you think”

“I feel like we are waiting for the other shoe to drop. We’ve been in trade negotiations for over a day and all they’ve asked for is Picasso and Kadis-Kot! My gut is telling me there is something more,” she sighed.

Chakotay put his hand on her shoulder, “We have one of our last trade meetings today. Whatever comes our way we have always been able to make it through. Today will be no different.”

Their eyes met and Chakotay couldn’t help but get caught in those pools of blue. Their relationship, after so much hardship, was finally starting to settle down again. Their weekly dinners were the highlight of his week and recently Kathryn was starting to let him in a little more. Not beyond anything that couldn’t be brushed off as close friendship, but still.

Chakotay knew that he had fallen for Kathryn a long time ago, from the moment they locked eyes on the bridge, but it was the shared moments like these where he recognized the depth of his feelings for her. He would wait for her. The angry warrior would stay by her side, for as long as it took.

Spirits, I’m lost.

“Thank you, Chakotay,” she said softly.

“Of course, Kathryn.”

“Tuvok to Captain Janeway.”

He dropped his hand from her shoulder.

Tuvok and his timing.

“Go ahead.”

“Captain, the Caldari ambassadors have arrived to begin negotiations. They are waiting for you and the Commander in the briefing room.”

“Thank you, Tuvok. We are on our way”

Chakotay moved towards the door, but Kathryn continued to stand looking out the viewport. Chakotay’s voice interrupted her worried thoughts,

“Are you coming, Captain?”

“Yes, I am right behind you”

Chakotay flashed her a smile and exited. Kathryn shook her head and followed after him.

Oh, I am so lost.

“Captain, I am glad that Voyager found its way to our corner of the galaxy. I think both of our people will benefit from these negotiations.” The Caldari ambassador, Turin, sat at the end of the briefing room table. The color of his skin reminded Kathryn of lilacs. The soft texture of his light purple skin was accompanied by small streaks of green that accentuated his humanoid cheekbones and jaw. His cheekbones stuck out on his face but seemed like they wrapped around his head towards the back of his skull, giving his face a sleek appearance.

“Thank you, Ambassador. I agree. I hope you find Alpha Quadrant culture as interesting as we do”

“Yes, there is much to explore. You have an extensive database on so many species! It will keep our scholars busy until the next Dual Eclipse!” The green streaks of his skin gave a soft glow with his excitement.

“I hope so, and if I may, I would recommend Dante. He is a philosopher from Earth’s history, and a personal favorite of mine.”

“Thank you for the recommendation. Now, Captain, I have a few formalities before we begin. Requirements from the High Council. You understand?” Turin said.

“Of course”

Turin reached into the satchel that sat on the floor next to him and brought out a beautifully bound book filled with greenish pages. When Turin opened the book, Kathryn realized that the pages’ green hue was similar in color to the streaks on the Caldari’s faces. She wondered if this was due to choice, or something in the planet’s biology that affected both of them. She suppressed the urge to ask as he began to speak.

“Captain, as you are aware, our society values partnership over everything else. You assured us that your culture assumes a similar view to the importance of partnership, which is what allowed us to begin this fruitful relationship between our two peoples in the first place. However, we are concerned, and frankly somewhat… off put, that you have yet to introduce us to your partner.”

Kathryn paused and tried to absorb what Turin was saying, “I’m sorry, Ambassador. I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

Turin’s mouth twitched, “We do not interact, or much less conduct trade, with peoples whose leader is unpartnered. It is an unspeakable offense. Furthermore, if we were to be led into an arrangement under false circumstances regarding one’s partnership status, we would consider that an act of aggression against our planet.”

Kathryn’s typically quick-witted diplomatic mind felt like it stalled out. A partner? She was the Captain! A relationship out here could never be a partnership. Not when every available person was someone under her command. “Ambassador, you have to understand, as Captain, I don’t -“

“You don’t what?” The threat was clear. Turin’s jovial attitude was long gone and his streaks shifted to a deeper green as his mood shifted.

“I-“ Kathryn started, but Chakotay’s hand coming to rest on hers stopped her. She resisted the urge to yank her hand out from under his as she locked eyes with him. As it often was with him, she needed no words to understand what he was saying:

Trust me.

And she did.

“Ambassador Turin,” Chakotay started, “I am the Captain’s life partner.” He moved his hand on hers to interlock their fingers. Kathryn let him, since all of her energy was being spent actively trying not to have the panic she was feeling on the inside show on her face. “You have to understand,” Chakotay continued, “the Captain is not used to sharing the status of our relationship since our job’s put us in a tricky position, considering that it could be taken advantage of by our enemies. If our feelings and commitment to one another were to become common knowledge, any number of species could use that to their advantage. And, sir, as you said, our culture values our partnerships, and you’re right. If anything were to happen to Kathryn, I would stop at nothing to get her back, including putting others at risk.”

Turin visibly calmed down, but seemed wary. “But why keep this information from us. We have shown nothing but hospitality to you!”

“We apologize and don’t mean to offend, but it is just something that we’ve gotten used to protecting.”

Turin seemed to accept this and clapped his hands together. “Oh, great happiness! We are glad to keep you as friends. Now, we must discuss the Three Trials.”

“The Three Trials?” Kathryn found her voice again, but still struggled to stay focused with her hand intertwined with Chakotay’s.

“The Three Trials are three tasks meant to prove your love and commitment to one another.”

Kathryn shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

“This serves a dual purpose: one, to confirm your partnership, and, two, to determine if you are tjaasaktic. Will you comply?”

The universal translator faked to pick up the last word, but all Kathryn could think of was their desperate need for the Caldari’s friendship and trade. “When do we start?”

Should I do a part 2?

#25 days of voyager and prodigy #janeway x chakotay #kathryn janeway #star trek voyager #captain janeway #chakotay

[burningupp]

how about skz reaction or headcanon about you being pregnant

oooh okay, I do love when men are whipped for their pregnant partners i find it so cute :((

I'm gonna write this as a shorter headcanon paired with a tiny bit of dialogue for each, I hope that's okay <3

pairing: afab!reader x skz (no pronouns - if i used any, lmk <3)

warnings: really fluffy, mentions of pregnancy (duh), mentions of body insecurity, mentions of anxiety about becoming a parent (jisung), mentions of food, joke about the word daddy (minho), lmk if there's anything else!

Chan

I feel like he would be so extremely happy and proud all the time when you're pregnant. he'd just be like "we made that!! look at my partner, they're carrying our BABY!!" and lowkey everyone would be tired of him talking about you and showing pictures of ultrasounds, you and your belly bc mans shows everyone he talks to for more than 15 seconds. Real proud boi. also, 100% goes to birthing classes with you simply because he's more nervous for the birth than you are :((

"Y/n, have I ever told you how proud I am that you're carrying our baby?" he asks one night. You're half-laying on the couch, because honestly, that's one of the only comfortable positions you have left as your body grows.

You smile over at him, lightly rolling your eyes. He tells you every single day, but you can't say you don't appreciate it - kind of makes some of the pains and aches worth it. Well, more than having a baby already did.

"Yes, my love," you hum. At your answer, he cheeses harder than ever, his heart and chest so full at spending time with you and seeing the way your body changes to accommodate for the little one. He doesn't think he will ever be happier, except for the day that he finally gets to meet your little one.

Minho

okay but this one would definitely be nagging you every single day to take your vitamins and eat enough to feed both you and the baby. he would be cooking every single day, just to make sure himself that the food is safe for you to eat :(( I genuinely think that while he may be a tsundere at times, this would really bring out his affectionate and responsible side in a whole new way. he would definitely whine every time you ask him to do something for you, but then turn around and do it with a smile after like 2 seconds. Whipped.

"Baby, did you take your vitamins today?" the love of your life asks over his shoulder while cooking lunch for the both of you.

"Yes, dad," you sigh dramatically, but you can't help the smile spreading across your features anyway. Instead of bothering him, though, it fills him with indescribable joy. He's going to be a dad, and soon. He can't wait.

"Yah, you eating the vitamins means that the little one will get them, and I'm their dad, so," he says back, squinting at you while he stirs the contents of the pan to make sure it doesn't stick.

He also wants you to have the vitamins, but you don't need to know that. It would ruin his image if you did, obviously. Although he thinks that if he thinks of the concept of being a dad again, he will explode.

"Mhm, well you could do with asking me less than five times before noon, daddy."

His heart damn near bursts, and he can no longer help but grin hugely at you and abandon the food on the stove in favor of kissing your forehead gingerly.

Changbin

the biggest hype man ever. tells you you're beautiful every time he sees you and 100% means it. tries really hard to do research on ways he can help you, and asks his mom and dad questions all the time. buys baby clothes from the moment you tell him that you're pregnant, and buys matching clothes for all of you. hears that swimming can help with the back pain, so he starts taking you swimming every single week - and compliments your swim suit every single time bc it accentuates his favorite belly.

"Wow," you hear your partner breathe as you walk into the living room in your new maternity pants. "I really am the luckiest man alive."

You know he means it, but it doesn't stop you from blushing and looking away. Changbin isn't having it.

"Hey," he says, coming over to wrap his arms around you gently and press a tender kiss to your forehead. "I'm serious. You've never been more beautiful to me. You're incredible."

Your knees grow weak, because honestly, what are you supposed to do with that? You just cheese at him and kiss his cheek in return. "Thank you, baby."

"I mean it," he murmurs, his hand coming up between you to touch your stomach softly. His eyes are so filled with love you almost start crying. "I can't wait to see you be a mom."

"I can't wait to see you be a dad," you grin, and his eyes widen for a second.

"I'm gonna be a dad," he says incredulously, the biggest smile on his face. His eyes glitter with excitement, and you think you've never been more in love with him.

Hyunjin

he's kinda scared, ngl. not to be a dad, that he's super excited for, but for you to give birth. he knows you're strong, but he doesn't know if he can handle seeing you in pain </3 definitely anxious all the time. you want to shower? not without him, you don't. wanna cook? don't you dare. reaching for something on a shelf? absolutely not. you're so annoyed but endeared bc he's so doting and cute :')

You know that Hyunjin doesn't like it when you change the sheets in the state you're in, but you couldn't help yourself. You changed them while he was at practice, and now he's huffing and scowling like you did something to offend him.

"Babe, I'm sorry," you plead, and due to the hormones, you feel tears build up before falling without your permission. At the sound of your sniffle, your partner immediately shoots up from the couch to come check on you.

"Hey, no, it's okay! I'm sorry, I shouldn't be treating you like this," he says sadly. You shake your head though.

"I know you just want to take care of me. It's okay. It's just the hormones," you pout. Hyunjin laughs.

"Okay. In the future, just wait for me, okay? I don't care if I'm tired; you're carrying a freaking baby, in comparison I'm better than ever, even after practice."

You nod, smiling at him and holding your tummy. He's going to make a fantastic dad.

Jisung

a Babie. kinda scared, and this time bc he doesn't know if he's gonna be a good dad. he's still super excited, though! cannot believe the way your body is changing, and keeps touching your belly in awe. also super impressed by how you're handling it all and your knowledge of babies. literally perplexed as to where you learned it all. just like hyunjin, he's super protective. he doesn't know much about pregnancies, they kinda freak him out ngl, but he knows you shouldn't be overexerting yourself. always asks for advice and reassurance, even though you know he's gonna be a fantastic dad. you're just lowkey worried it's gonna leave you with two babies instead of one lmao

"Hey babe?"

It's 3am, but it's not like you could get comfortable enough to sleep anyway. Not being allowed to lay on your back is literally the worst. As soon as you even accidentally try, Jisung yells at you - lovingly, of course.

You give a hum and wait for him to continue.

"What if it doesn't like me?"

You almost laugh, but the genuine fear in his voice makes you pause. It breaks your heart that he's scared, but you understand him - becoming a parent is scary.

"First of all, call my baby an 'it' one more time and I'll punch you," you say softly, and it makes him snort. Success. "Second of all, there's no way they won't like you. Have you met you? You're amazing with kids. You'll be just fine."

"Thanks, love," he mutters, turning around in bed to look at you in the dark. An arm slides around your waist gently, his hand predictably landing on your tummy. "It can't be that bad - I mean, I have you. Super-mom," he says with the biggest grin you've ever seen. You snort.

Felix

hyper, learning everything he can from whoever he can. bothers any staff members with families, asking about their kids and how to parent. literally won't stop touching you for even a second, cheesing 24/7 like a total dork bc he can't believe that the love of his life is gonna give him a baby :(( keeps an eye on you, but isn't overwhelmingly worried - he knows you're fine to do most things despite your huge belly. he mostly lets you judge what you can and can't do, and thanks you every time you tell him something is difficult for you bc he's adorable like that <3

You're cooking dinner in the kitchen, but to no one's surprise, you're not alone. Felix hasn't left your side since he got home and wrapped his arms around you, pressing a kiss to your temple with a huge smile that would put the actual sun to shame.

You're feeling a bit crabby; your back hasn't stopped hurting for the past week. Your bump is becoming a lot more prominent, and boy, are you feeling it. You stir the sauce again, and step away from the stove. Your hands are on your back before you can help it, and you're hissing out a breath through your teeth. Of course, Felix notices.

"You alright, darling?" he asks gently. He's by your side in less than a second, hand on the small of your back to give you some support; it may not be much, but he's trying his best.

"I'm okay," you breathe after a second, smiling at the father of your baby. "My back's still feeling rough, that's all."

"I'm sorry, baby," he pouts, rubbing your back where his hand is resting. "If you want, I can finish this up?"

You consider it for a moment, but ultimately decide that you want to finish. You shake your head, and while you know he's dying to give you a moment to rest, he just nods and kisses your forehead. He doesn't leave your side until you're safely sitting in your chair at the dining table, just in case, but he doesn't try to take over. You have a big dumb grin on your face for the rest of the night.

Seungmin

he's not very outwardly expressive with other people, but it's always been different with you. it's not very overwhelming tho, he just doesn't always know how to express what he's feeling. that changes when you get pregnant, bc suddenly he can't help but constantly tell you how amazing you are. it's insane to him to see your body modify itself to fit your little one, and the thought of a mini you makes him absolutely die on the inside. definitely does as much as he can to make life easier for you, but in the subtlest of ways <3

"Seungmin?" you ask out loud as you pad down the hall to the spare bedroom - soon to become the nursery for your first child together. You smile at the sight of him carefully placing the throw pillows you just bought together on the small loveseat in the room.

"Oh, hey," he says, moving towards you when he sees you. He puts a piece of your hair behind your ear and smiles at you. "Did you see the sandwich I placed on the kitchen counter?"

Your heart is bursting with love (and hormones), so you can't help but well up a little bit. You duck your head to hide the unshed tears, removing any lingering evidence lest the man teases you to infinity.

"Baby," he grins in a teasing tone, eyes twinkling mischievously, "did I make you cry?"

The question is accompanied by a pretentious and over exaggerated pout, so you snort and smack him on the arm. He just giggles and goes to bring you to his chest gently, carefully maneuvering around your belly.

"I'm sorry, baby," he laughs.

"No you're not, you liar," you tease back, and when he laughs even more, you somehow don't mind anymore.

"No, I'm not. Now, let's go get you that sandwich, yeah? Or are you gonna waste all my hard work?"

Jeongin

kinda scared, but somehow calmer than jisung. just like felix, he asks literally anyone he can think of for parenting advice. people get sick of him real quick lmao. really adamant that he do literally everything in the house, since you're "hard at work cooking up a life". gets a tiny copy of every single ultrasound and puts it in his wallet. buys stupid books like "astrophysics for babies" and thinks they will genuinely work </3

"Y/n, come look at this!"

You turn around in the aisle of the grocery store, going back around the corner of the shelf to stare at Jeongin. He's holding up a tiny onesie with a matching hat. You quickly realize it matches his sweater and hat pretty well, and you can't help but giggle at him.

"Baby," you start, but he's not listening.

"Now we just need to get you one, too, and we can all match! Actually, we should just throw everything out and-"

"Jeongin. Sweetheart. Love of my life. You-"

"You forgot father to your baby," he grumbles, which makes you laugh even harder.

"Yes, my sweetheart, the love of my life, and the father of my baby," you correct, and when he looks satisfied, you continue. "I'm only like, 3 months along - we don't need to buy clothing yet."

"But-"

"We also in fact did not need the bottle warmer, the book for teaching our child Chinese, or even the very expensive walker you bought." When he pouts again, you soften a little. "Look. One outfit, okay? But no more until I'm at least 6 months along, yes?"

He's not listening, but you don't care much when he presses an almost bruising kiss to your cheek in glee. You're definitely going to be losing a lot of arguments for the coming 20 years or so.

a/n: that's it! i hope you enjoyed it <3 i'm sorry it took me a while, as i alluded to before, i have some pretty difficult uni courses rn but i am doing my best!

if you like my work, please let me know through a comment or a reblog! it gives me motivation to keep writing &lt;3

#1.5k celebration #stray kids #skz reaction #skz reactions #stray kids reaction #stray kids reactions #skz x reader #skz x you #skz x y/n #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #stray kids x y/n #kpop x reader #kpop reactions #kpop headcanons #skz headcanons

[yourantag]

Paper Stars (Ithaqua×Reader)

AN: Posting this along with my intro since I feel bad for anyone that gets jebaited thinking I was uploading lol This was originally going to be more painful, but then I listened to Laufey's "I Wish You Love" and it got kinda better, kinda worse. Enjoy! Word count: 2.0k words Summary: You filled bottles and jars with stars of all shapes and sizes. Some were perfect, others a little wonky. Regardless of how they came out, you placed them in containers that decorate your room. No matter how long you stay in this dreadful place, these stars will remain proof of your hopes, dreams, and love. They'll remain even after you are long gone.

Even before you entered the manor, you had a habit of making paper stars. Your friends, ones you've long forgotten the names of yet remember warmly, had claimed that if you filled a jar with a thousand paper stars, you'd be granted a wish. You've long grown out of such beliefs, or so you claim, but you still make these delicate stars anyway. They give you comfort, if nothing else. However, the biggest contributor to your growing collection of stars was Ithaqua.

It wasn't that he was making too many. In fact, his claws tore the thin paper far too often for most of them to survive. The true reason was that, as foolish as it was, you had started hoping beyond all hope that, perhaps, if you made a thousand jars of a thousand paper stars, you would have a chance to be loved back by him.

Since a long time ago, since he first came to the manor, you had loved him. Your first few jars of stars could tell all about it. You'd write confessions and compliments, snippets of stories, anything and everything, onto tiny slips of paper. These would later be turned into paper stars, filling jar after jar in a mesmerizing mix of colors. In shades of pink, white, and purple, the stars grew and grew as years passed and your love stayed true.

Of course, as time tends to do, it changes you. The luster of love dulled to let you see Ithaqua as himself, and even then, you loved him. The way he'd lean on you when he was tired, the way his face scrunched up when he yawned, even the way he'd purposely annoy you by putting your favorite snacks on the tallest shelves. You loved him for his faults, and you loved him for his virtues. No matter what you learned about him, he was still perfect in your eyes.

Well, perhaps perfect isn't the right word. You know Ithaqua isn't innocent, you know he isn't completely good. He's vengeful, he's cunning, he's someone with more spite in his body than good in his soul. He is a hunter, deadly as a blade and cold as night. He laughs when he chases and he kills without mercy.

Even so, when Ithaqua holds you gently, brushing his thumb over your cheek as he wraps your wounds, murmuring apologies like prayers, you can't see him as a monster.

He isn't perfect, but he is Ithaqua. That is enough for you.

More time slips by like sand through your fingers, decades going by with seemingly no end. Your stars are not pink, white, and purple anymore, but red, orange, and green. Your love has grown a startling amount, resulting in a growing pile of star filled bottles and jars. They clutter your closet floor, taking up almost all the space inside. You think you may have made around six hundred or so, most likely more. Even so, you know there will be more, this time filled with daydreams and flustered hopes.

Your relationship with Ithaqua is closer than ever. He is your other half, your shadow, always there and ready to talk. You know him better than anyone else, just as he knows you. At this point, the whole manor is convinced you're dating each other in every way but in name. You flush whenever they say so, quickly saying you two are only friends.

"For now." They say.

'For now.' You think.

With how many years have passed, you'd think you would've gained the courage to confess to Ithaqua. Sadly, the heart is as cowardly as it is powerful. Your chest feels like it'll burst whenever you try to confess, lungs begging for air even without restrictions. Every time you try, anxiety rips the words away from you, causing you to fumble like an idiot in front of him.

It might have been a blessing that the words never had a chance to form. 

Later, when you were coming to visit him on the hunter side, you heard him talking to someone. You weren't one to eavesdrop, respectful of others' privacy, but you couldn't help but listen when you heard your name come up.

"It's painfully obvious they love you. Why don't you just confess already?"

"I can't do that. Confessing to someone I can't love is not right."

At that moment, you felt your heart shatter.

That day, you stayed in your room. You wanted to cry, scream, break something, do anything, but as always, you could only do nothing. You were curled up on your bed, incapable of doing much other than wonder why. Why can't he love you? Why won't he love you? Why, why, why, why, why?

You had gotten overconfident, you guessed. With how Ithaqua treated you so differently from the rest, so lovingly, you had assumed he'd felt the same as you did. At the very least, you had hoped he'd have some romantic interest in you. Was it presumptuous? Was it arrogant? Was it wrong for you to have hoped that he would love you back after all these years? Perhaps it was, perhaps it wasn't. Regardless, the truth lay bare before your eyes now, and there was nothing you could do but accept it.

It took you a week to get out of your slump, leaving many worried. You couldn't bother to care, trying to reassure everyone quickly that you were fine despite having been broken not long ago. You had picked up the fragments of who you were and built yourself anew. Fragile, yet stronger than ever. You could only be glad the manor had been kind enough not to give you any matches during this time.

Time marches on, unrelenting as the push and pull of the waves. Your stars turned blue, black, and yellow, filled with wishful thinking and occasional pleads. Nine hundred and ninety-nine bottles and jars gathered within your room, filling your closet, shelves, and even the bottom of your bed. Even though you knew it was useless, that your love was unrequited and that Ithaqua would never love you, the heart is a cruel, stubborn little thing.

Your heart never gave up on Ithaqua, even though your mind had long acknowledged he'd never be yours.

You were fine with that. Ithaqua had no obligation to you, and it was wrong of you to believe he would love you. It was completely fine for you to love him, but it wasn't okay for you to expect him to love you in the same way. Such thoughts would only hurt you when hit with reality. You'd suffered through it once, you didn't need to do so again.

You continued being friends with him, acting completely normal. Nothing changed, but that was fine with you. Keeping what you had now was more than enough. You kept trying to convince yourself that was true, but it felt like thorns were wrapping around your heart, flowers blooming painfully between your ribs.

"You love him!" Your heart cries.

"But he doesn't love me." You whisper back.

Distance would be the only way to heal you, and the best opportunity for it drops right onto your desk. A letter, stamped and sealed just like the one that invited you to the manor. It tells you that you may leave, that your reward for participating in the game would be given and that you were free.

You rush out of your room to find your fellow survivors cheering, crying, hugging, and laughing. After so many years stuck in the manor, you were finally able to leave. You were finally getting your rewards. 

It felt like a dream.

Happy beyond all reason, you run to the hunter's manor, finding that no celebrations were occurring. It quickly dawns on you that most of these people will not leave- couldn't. Most were dead, others were immortal, while some were people who simply couldn't be returned to society. Regardless, it seemed most of the hunters would never leave the manor, or would quietly fade away into the afterlife.

Ithaqua notices you from his corner of the room. He beckons you closer, so you walk towards him. Sitting yourself comfortably next to him, you explain the situation. He listens, humming occasionally as you show him the letter. Finally, he smiles.

"I'm happy for you."

It's simple, but sweet. You know he means it, but you kind of wish he didn't. After all, this had been your last hope, the last chance for him to show that he felt anything for you. 

You set yourself up for disappointment once more, hoping for love that he would never give.

So, you smile, nod, and say you'll be packing your things. You ignore the tears that blur your vision, the looks of pity Mary and Joseph give you, running away with a smile on your face as if truly excited to leave.

You had hoped he'd ask you to stay.

You had hoped he'd at least say that you were important to him, even as just a friend.

Perhaps even that was too much to expect.

Your love is like the moon, brilliant, beautiful, and powerful. However, in the face of almost complete apathy, of the unending night that shrouds you, what could you do?

Luggage isn't too much of an issue for you, especially considering you never brought much to the manor and never bought much either. The only things left were your paper stars.

You held the last jar, the thousandth one. You had finally completed your goal. However, there was no wish you could think of for yourself. You gained your freedom, your reward from the manor, and now, gave up completely on Ithaqua. There was nothing you desired.

Turning to face your closet, your grip on the jar tightens. You see the thousands, millions of stars staring back at you, a galaxy of color, filled with so much love and joy. It's almost painful to see it all, the proof of your existence within this manor, the proof of your love, shoved in a closet and never to be seen again.

You turn to your desk, glancing at the other jars that decorate it. You can see the imperfections on some of the stars, one crinkled far too much, another far too big. You remember all the time and effort that went into them, the words you had written, the feelings that went through you as you made them. It washes over you like a wave, and you let it.

Then, finally, you smile.

"I wish him love."

He deserves it. He deserves to be loved selflessly, in a way you probably couldn't offer him. He deserves to be held when it's cold, tenderly cared for when sick, shared jokes with sincerity, and above all else, happy.

So, carrying your luggage bag and a smile, you meet Ithaqua at the hunters manor. You place the jar of paper stars in his hands, eyes full of adoration as you let him go in your heart.

"Farewell, Ithaqua. I'm glad to have met you. Thank you for letting me get to know you and love you. I will never forget you."

You squeeze his hands around the jar, the pain in your chest bittersweet. You let go, pulling back and waving as you leave. He watches for a long time, even after you've long left.

Eventually, he lets his legs give out from under him. He lets his heart ache as he opens the jar to let the stars fall into his hands. Ithaqua cradles them like they're the most precious things in the world, an irreplaceable treasure that was worth more than his life.

He lets his shoulders shake, curling in on himself as he sobs. Tears fall from his eyes as his heart rips itself apart, only getting worse as he sees writing on a star. He unravels it slowly, carefully, as if it'll tear with even the slightest bit of pressure. His efforts are for naught, as in the end, his tears wet the paper and destroy the writing, ink smudging as his efforts to return it to normal shred the thin paper. Still, he remembers vividly the words written on it. He'll feel it forever seared into his heart and soul.

#idv #identity v #identity 5 #idv ithaqua #ithaqua x reader #identity v fanfic #idv fanfic

[guyfieriii]

Turn Me To Ashes

This one's an angsty little piece written for this ask. Its a self-indulgent little piece that's got a bit of everything: Price before he was a Captain, some angst, Price on a motorbike, some more angst, and finally that last bit of angst to cap things off nicely.

The biggest thank you to @mvtthewmurdvck who read this thing piecemeal and gave me the support to post it as well as @soapskneebrace and @yeyinde for indulging my crazed Price thoughts.

Pairing: John Price x f!Reader Warnings: PAIN

You will your eyes to deceive you like they have in the past. At moments most inconvenient they fashion a mirage so cogent you’d think it’s all they’ve ever done. 

And now—

“J—” 

They don’t. 

It’s your heart that betrays you instead. “John.”

There’s an unmistakable flinch in his bearing at the sound of your voice, but he turns around, nevertheless. 

He looks different but also the same. 

There are tufts of grey where there used to be pure chestnut. A weathered face carved of grit, chiseled down by years of bellicose. 

He looks tired, you think.

Or maybe it’s you that brings it out in him. 

Had the years not passed in his absence, you’d have made a dig at him. Something along the lines of ‘People know we’re the same fuckin’ age, John, and you’re makin’ me seem older than I am’. Or maybe ‘At least you committed to the beard — spent a good couple years wondering if y’were gonna grow one’.

Instead, you stand there awkward and silent, imagining a conversation that isn’t really happening.  

He watches you, wistful. Like he’s doing the same.

After a moment, he’s entirely expressionless and you’re not sure whether you’re more disappointed or surprised. Foreseeably the prior, more like. He’s a captain now. SAS. The ever-dependable island of a man surrounded by oceans of unpredictability. 

“We draw the line where we need to.”

“Not we, John. You.”

It’s been over a decade since and the memory of it still blisters. 

Bluebird. Blue. 

That’s what he called you. You suppose it was fitting. You were protective, bordering on territorial — especially when it came to him. 

“Is that an insult, Price?”

“It’s a compliment, dove.”

It was hard not to be. You came up together, joining the army within months of each other. Through sheer contingency, your paths crossed enough times for bonds to be made and friendships to be forged. Nothing more. 

Nothing either of you would openly concede to. 

It started the night of your birthday, a few years in. A party in the mess hall took a turn and so did the line that stood firm between the two of you. In a flurry of hasty fingers, impassioned moans, and your breath tinged with the burn of scotch, you allowed the levee to break and out poured months of hidden impulses that burst at your seams. Now they flowed freely across your tongue, gliding onto his against the beaten brick wall of the outer barracks. 

“Just this once, hmm?” He promised. 

“Just this once.” You quickly agreed under a high miasma of his lips and molten touch. Writhing and panting beneath him, you’d have committed to any oath at that moment. Part of you knew you didn’t mean it, but you said it anyway. 

You later realized he didn’t much mean it either. 

So, yes — you felt entitled to him in some way. Especially when the paramedics made eyes at him, and the rookies fought reason to have him indulge them in conversation. He’d grant them one, of course. Of course. You’d watch them, coquettish and wide-eyes and it was hard not to wonder if this was what he wanted. 

You, inversely, snapped back. While there was an immense amount of mutual respect and understanding between the two of you, you had to make it noticeable that you weren’t beholden to him. It wasn’t for the benefit of your fellow soldiers or the watchful eyes of your superiors. 

It was for you and him. 

There was the silent yet ever present threat of impermanence. An occupational hazard you had come to terms with, or so you thought. But then the thought of his ephemerality burned a hole in your chest. 

You could die. You had no qualms with that, you had planned for it. You even wrote him a letter. 

You hoped he hadn’t done the same. 

The other women — they were easier, straightforward. You weren’t. You were an exposed live wire of harsh candor and even harsher pain. An irritant holding up a mirror, a challenge with no end. It made sense at times to think that you were better left aside than with him. 

What’s that story about the man pushing a boulder up a hill? 

But then once the sun withdrew from the skies and the stars took its place, he’d only ever go searching for you. 

You brought it up once in a canopy of post-coital bliss. The sound of his heart beating in a steady metronome, his fingers dancing up and down your spine, the way you just lay there in comfortable silence was all too perfect. It made your walls descend and your insecurities awaken. 

So, you asked. “Why me?”

“We match, Blue.” He simply said and you believed him. 

Until you didn’t. 

He asked you home with him, once. 

He looked just as surprised as you at his invitation, but your hasty ‘Yes, okay. Yes, I’ll come home with you’ didn’t give him a chance to backtrack. 

His answering smile was one you etched into your myocardium. Always hoping for the best and expecting the worst, you knew you might need it. 

You try your best to mimic it and give him something in return. 

You match. 

It was painfully awkward — that first flight back. You sat side by side in an aircraft with other home bound soldiers, chatty and eager. 

Not the two of you, though. 

He slept for most of it, or he pretended to; the lip of his beanie pulled over his eyes, head resting against the window, arms crossed at his chest. His shoulders would shake in sync with the aircraft’s rumble through some mild turbulence, but the man didn’t so much as shuffle out of his REM. 

Not pretend, then. 

You finally let out the breath you weren’t aware you were holding and make the snap decision to use this time to your advantage. There were people around, much to your relief they were entirely unaware. You allowed yourself some indulgences, letting your eyes dance over his sleeping form and zeroing in on all those details you hadn’t had the luxury to appreciate. 

The scar hidden in the five o’clock shadow now forms across his jaw. You remember how he got it — narrowly avoiding some shrapnel a few months back in Astana. All he walked away with was a bit of metal half a centimetre deep. 

Your fingers embarked on an expedition of their own as you absentmindedly traced the back of his hand that peeked through the crest of his elbow. They followed a patterned dance of up and over around each finger, through the valley between each knuckle, and down the risen veins and back. 

Ad nauseam.

You pretended not to notice the irregularity in his breathing, the slight twitch in his lips as you continued on. 

Eventually, his arms uncrossed, and you bit back your disappointment as he hooked a thumb over the flap covering his eyes to meet yours. 

“Glad to be able to entertain ya, Blue”

You wished he’d go back to his feigned sleep, and you’d go back to your little game. 

“It’s not the worst thing I could have done, John.” You kept your voice steady. Lighthearted. There was a hint of embarrassment trickling at the back of your throat, but you wouldn’t dare reveal it. 

“Oh?” He shifted in his seat, leaning towards you. Your eyes quickly veered to gauge your peripherals for any possible interruptions. 

This was a clandestine moment. One you weren’t keen to share. 

He seemed all too unbothered, his eyes downcast glancing upon your hands fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. 

“Simmons— he, uh, wanted to draw a cock across your face. Good thing I stopped him.” 

“How’d you do that?” Without a moment’s pause, he took your hand in his, large palm eclipsing yours entirely as his fingers wove their way through yours. 

“Shot his bollocks off.” 

It was so painfully tender. You’d have captured it in a globe for your mantle if you could. It bled such intimacy for which you felt entirely undeserving. 

You were harsh people. You and John. Forged and brutalized to the point wherein moments like this feel like a vain, almost opulent purchase of your time. Frugality in all matters of heart was an imperative choice to be made. 

Sink or swim. 

Perish or survive. 

And the two of you. Well—

“And you let me sleep through it?” 

He invited you home and you schooled yourself to let it all be about a good time. A bit of R&R and some sex. 

Wasn’t it?

He promised to show you around.

“I’ll show you where I had my first kiss, love.”

“Careful, John. A girl might get jealous.”

A glance into his past made the possibility of a future bloom. 

The bait. It was too enticing. It had too much potential, the thought of you and him. Having a life outside of iron, lead, and dirt. 

You couldn’t just—

You pulled away from him with about a tenth of the delicacy you were hoping for.  His expression shifted five times over in the span of a second. Hurt. Confusion. Anger. Resignation. Apathy. 

“You looked like you needed your solid eight.”

It was better that way. 

It was a vintage Honda. John’s motorbike. It suited him to a T. 

There is always something to be said for a reliable classic. 

“Wanted this exact model as a lad, but my dad—“

He paused, swallowing down like he’d just tasted something bitter before continuing. 

“Bought it as a beaten down clunker an’ I built it up.” 

He looked at you, a bit self-effaced, in hopes of earning your admiration. 

You couldn’t dare to disappoint him. 

You recognized it as a point of pride within him. To him, it epitomized his freedom. His steadfast nature. To you, it was a death machine with a chassis built around it. But it wasn’t a fear that lingered. 

The moment you were seated pillion, your body molded to the back of his. Every turn along the road, you were counterpoised by him. It was more graceful than you would have imagined. A delicate kind of waltz wherein he led you so intuitively, you felt as though you’ve been his passenger for a lot longer than you have. 

It was the subliminal trust you had in him. What was usually conveyed with a look, if that, was now a tête-à-tête of his parity and your belief. 

He did make good on his promise.

For the time you spent with him, morning rides were routine. You raced daybreak, cruising against asphalt, feeling the thrum of the engine behind the settling in your sternum. The amorous backcloth of the gliding mist at your feet, the ever-present chill of morning air curtaining the warmth of his body. At every stoplight, his hands would stroke the length of your calves, palm tightening around the exposed skin of your ankle. 

The roads lay bare at that early of an hour, your only companions were the even-spaced streetlights along your way. 

“That one there. Right under the hood of it. I was fourteen. Her same was Iris”. He said. 

“Was it a good first kiss?”

“Oh, the best.” 

You mapped it out like the route to a treasure. All this trivia, the stories. You harmonized every likened memory of his with one of your own. 

The fantasy of the path untraveled remained your consolation prize for when your time with him came to an end. 

It was near perfection. 

All good things, however—

Betrayal is an ugly word, you think, and often misrepresented in its severity. 

What might be a disappointment is deemed as grievous as betrayal just because it’s coupled with heartbreak. 

Death in its unfortunate certainty is commonplace in a world like yours. The fact that it comes before it’s due is a bitter pill you’ve managed to swallow. 

You grieve. You reminisce. You move on to the next. 

But there are some that stick. It’s not the ones you don’t see coming. It’s the ones you do and fail to stop. They are the ones that linger well past the descent of ironed cloth on a closed casket. 

What do you do when reliable foundation crumbles and you’ve lost all footing?  You change. 

John changed. 

Something in the blood of his fallen comrade stained more than skin and cloth.

His perception turned — uprooting philosophies of adherence to something more uncontrolled. 

There were lines he began to cross. Ones he expected you to cross with him. 

John wasn’t a man you made a habit of denying. The very thought of it lit a match of unease within you. He asked and asked, and your resolve nearly collapsed, but you remained planted across the underscore of his reasoning while his hand remained outreached. 

You just didn’t take it. 

I’m sorry, okay?

#john price x reader #price x reader #john price x you #captain john price x you #captain john price x reader #john price #captain john price #mw2 price #mw2 x reader #mw2 fanfic #mwii #cod mwii #mw2 #mw2 imagine #cod x reader #cod fanfic #cod:mw2 #cod imagine #cod smut #call of duty imagine #call of duty fanfic

[mistiell]

Oblivious

Pairing: Sirius Black x Fem! Gryffindor! Reader

Summary: You and Sirius have been pining over each other for years. When he asks you to come with him to a family gathering as his girlfriend, your feelings become impossible to ignore

Warnings: Mutual pining, fake dating trope, Sirius’ parents might be a little ooc, Walburga’s a grade A bitch to reader, Blood prejudice (I think that’s what it’s called?? Reader’s a halfblood), I think that’s it but let me know if I missed anything

Word count: 4k

A/N: Okay so I had to delete the original post because it posted the unfinished version and wouldn’t let me save any edits. Hopefully this one works. I hope you enjoy.

“No.”

“Y/n, please—.”

“Sirius, I’m not pretending to be your girlfriend to please your parents at a family gathering!” You laugh incredulously, continuing to walk through the now dwindling crowd of students in the corridor. It’s honestly ridiculous. You’re shocked that he even thought about asking you considering the fact that he’s got a new person on his arm every other week, “Besides, why would you ask me of all people? What happened to Esther? You two seemed to be pretty cozy last I checked.”

He rolls his eyes and looks at you like what he says next is entirely obvious to everyone but you, “He’s sweet, but there could never be anything serious between us.”

“Why not?”

‘Because I’m in love with you, you oblivious git!’ He wants to say, but holds his tongue. Instead, he glances away from you and shrugs, “Too affectionate.” You burst out laughing at that and he glares at you through a smile, “What?”

“That is rich coming from you.” You giggle and he swears that his heart might just flutter up out of his throat at the sound.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asks, chuckling a little now despite himself.

You stop dead in your tracks and scoff dramatically, practically gawking at him, “Sirius, you’re joking.”

“No?” He stops and turns to you, shaking his head and laughing at the look on your face.

“You are literally the most affectionate person I know!” You exclaim, “I mean, for fuck’s sake, you made out with Audra Ferlot in the middle of the great hall! On several occasions!”

“Okay, fine! We just... don’t mesh well.” He thinks you’ve seen through his lie until you finally shrug your shoulders.

“Alright. I’m still not pretending to be your girlfriend, though.” You state, resuming your trek down the hall.

“Oh, come on!” He groans, quickly following you and falling back into line at your side.

“Seriously, though. Why me?” You ask earnestly. You try not to sound insecure but he catches it anyways. He knows you too well by now to have missed that vulnerable lilt in your tone.

“Because you’re one of my closest friends and you don’t take shit from anyone, which is a skill you’ll need if you’re going to meet my family,” He chuckles before smirking that stupid little smirk he does just before he starts flirting, “You’re also quite pretty, but that’s just a bonus.”

You make a point of gagging exaggeratedly at his comment—despite how fast your heart is racing—and he rolls his eyes, “Merlin, you’re the only girl I’ve met that gags at compliments.”

“It wasn’t the compliment I was gagging at.” You smirk, watching the looking of confusion on his face morph into bemusement.

“Har, har, very funny,” He sighs, grabbing your wrist to stop you from walking again, “What do I have to do to get you to agree to this? Get on my knees and beg?”

You know he’s joking, but you smile up at him puckishly anyway, “I’d quite like that, actually.”

His brows raise a little in shock before a coy glint shines in his eyes. He takes both of your hands and slowly lowers himself to his knees, making a point of holding your gaze the entire time. You honestly didn’t expect him to do it. Part of you wants to tell him you were just fucking with him, that he can stand up, that people are staring. The other part wonders whether or not he’s actually about to do this, and whether or not you really want to watch.

Apparently, you do, because the second he opens his mouth, you swear you’re just about ready to combust.

“Y/n, darling, will you please do me the great honour of being my fake girlfriend at this party? I swear, I’ll do anything you ask of me, just please, for the love of Merlin, come with me.” His words aren’t anything special, but the way he says them has your face catching fire and your heart thudding rapidly against your ribs. Despite how exaggerated it is, his voice is soft and pleading, his expression only stressing that last part. He’s looking up at you through his lashes, brows quirked up into the most damning puppy dog eyes you’ve ever seen. Between the way he’s looking at you and the feeling of his skin against yours, you swear your heart might very well beat out of your chest. You swallow, and in a flustered panic, you utter the faintest, “Okay.”

His eyes light up and you swear if he were in his animagus form, his tail would be kicking up dust with how hard it would be wagging, “Okay?”

“Okay.” You huff, tugging on his hands to get him to stand up again. When he does, he’s so close that you have to look up a little to make eye contact, and when you do, you swear you just barely catch his gaze lingering on your lips before it lowers further. It’s then that you realize you’re still holding his hands. You all but snatch yours away and clear your throat awkwardly, “I have a few rules, though.”

“Naturally.” He smiles, beaming at you so brightly you swear you might go blind.

“Number one, no kissing.” He throws his head back and groans dramatically at that and you smack his chest, earning a very dramatic ‘ow!’ in response, “Number two, limited touching-.”

“Limited?” He smirks, that familiar cockiness laced in his tone, “That mean I can touch you a little?”

“Keep pushing your luck and I’ll revoke that privilege all together,” He shuts his mouth.

“Third,” Part of you doesn’t even want to set this rule, but you know you’ll be better off if you do, “The second the party’s over, we pretend it never happened.”

His smile falters a little at that. Just barely, but you catch it. He doesn’t protest though, just nods his head and offers you his hand, “Deal.”

You smile and nod, taking his hand and giving it a good shake.

“The party is at my place this Saturday. I’d say you should be there around seven thirty or so. You know where I live, right?” He asks, and when you shake your head, he pulls out a piece of parchment and scribbles his address down for you, folding it into quarters before handing it over.

“Is there a dress code?” You ask, though you already have an idea of what to expect.

He hums and glances away, thinking for a moment before turning his attention back on you, “Wear something formal and expensive looking.”

“Yes, because I definitely have something like that floating around in my closet.” He rolls his eyes and pulls out a pouch of coins, counting out twelve galleons and handing them over.

“There. That should be enough for a nice looking dress.” He smiles, chuckling when you splutter and try to hand it back to him.

“Wh— Sirius, this is way too much!” You exclaim, trying to follow him as he starts walking away, “I can’t—!”

“Yes, you can. I asked you to do this, the least I can do is pay for your outfit.”

“Wh— I can’t— it’s too much!” You repeat, watching as he grows further away and laughs, turning on his heals to walk backwards so he can look at you.

“Remember, something expensive looking!” He calls before disappearing around the corner, leaving you standing in the middle of the hallway. When the late bell rings you curse, scrambling to shove the coins in your own coin pouch.

“Fucking, dick.” You mutter, slinging your bag back over your shoulder before rushing to your next class.

———

Three days later, you’re walking down the street in search of 12 Grimmauld Place dressed in, ironically, the most expensive black dress you’ve ever purchased. When you reach number eleven and look the the house beside it, you notice the number thirteen beside the door and frown. You look across the street, wondering if perhaps the numbers alternated between even and uneven depending on which side if the street they were on, despite the fact that they hadn’t up until this point, and find that the numbers continue linearly in the forties instead of teens.

You huff and turn to look back at numbers eleven and thirteen. It was unlikely that Sirius had made a mistake when he gave you his address — Who forgets where they’ve lived for their entire life? — but at this point, you were ready to give up. That is, until the space between the two houses begins widening, a third slowly appearing in front of you. Your jaw drops as the place literally manifests in front of you. Never in your life have you seen something like this, you weren’t even aware this was possible.

Eventually, a set of steps appears leading up to the door, if you could even call it that, for when you finally reach it, you realize it doesn’t have a handle. The only thing that tells you that this is, in fact, the front door is a silver knocker in the shape of a serpent that sits in the middle. Hesitantly, you knock thrice with the knocker and rock back and forth on your heels, heart fluttering nervously in your chest. It feels like ages before it opens to reveal Sirius, who lights up at the sight of you.

“Y/n!” He beams, stepping aside to let you in and guiding you into what you can only describe as the most grande entry way you’ve ever seen. You’re halfway through gawking at the place when you feel Sirius’ hand on the small of your back, heart leaping to your throat as you stop yourself from jumping, “You look stunning.”

“Thanks.” You smile, finding him looking you up and down when you finally look back at him. You smirk, a little rush of confidence flooding your veins, “My eyes are up here, pretty boy.”

His eyes snap back up to yours and you swear his face flushes red as he chuckles, “Sorry.”

“S’alright.” You smile, taking the time to take in his outfit. He looks devilishly handsome in a white dress shirt and black slacks, a couple buttons undone on his top to showcase just a bit of his collarbone, a move that you’re sure was meant to piss off his mother.

He clears his throat and you look back up to find a cocky smirk hung on his lips, “My eyes are up here, pretty girl.” You open and close your mouth a few times, cheeks aflame, and Sirius laughs, “You’re cute when you’re flustered. Did you know that?”

“I— Erm, no.” You stutter. You never doubted his abilities but merlin, he’s doing a damn good job at acting like he’s your boyfriend. You figure you should start playing your part too, but every touch, every nickname, every stupid flirtatious remark has your mind drawing a blank.

Just then, a woman exits the living room and comes strutting up to you gracefully, head held high and back straight as a rod while she nurses a fancy glass of what you think is champagne in one hand. By the way Sirius deflates beside you, hand sliding to pull you a little closer to him by your waist subconsciously, you can only assume this is his mother.

“Y/n, I presume.” She looks you up and down and you adjust your dress nervously, suddenly feeling very small, “When my son told me he had a girlfriend, I certainly wasn’t expecting… you.” You aren’t entirely sure if it’s an insult when you catch the way she’s looking at you, more curious and a tad judgemental rather than disdainful, “A Slytherin, are you?”

“Oh, erm— No. Gryffindor.” You smile a tight lipped smile as you watch the curiosity slip from her gaze, being replaced with the disdain you were worried about.

“What a shame. I’d have thought my son could do better.” She hums. Christ, barely three feet in the door and you’re already being criticized.

“Mother—.”

“He could.” You straighten your posture to appear a bit more confident despite how nervous you actually feel, “But definitely not with a Slytherin.”

Sirius snorts beside you before clearing his throat awkwardly and willing his face into a neutral expression. This is why he brought you. Well, this and the fact that he’d madly in love with you, but he tries not the think about the latter.

Walburga purses her lips and raises a brow at you, but stays quiet, much to Sirius’ surprise. She shoots him a disapproving look before disappearing into the living room, leaving you and Sirius alone in the entry way.

“That was bloody brilliant!” He whisper yells, grinning from ear to ear, “I knew bringing you was a good idea.”

“Yeah, well, it certainly wasn’t a good idea for my blood pressure.” You titter, hand placed on your chest to will your heart rate to slow down. He laughs and starts guiding you into the living room by the small of your back.

“So, who’s who?” You whisper and he jerks his head subtly towards the man standing next to his mother.

“That’s my father. The two they’re speaking to are my aunt and uncle, Cygnus and Druella.” He’s dipped his head closer to whisper to you, breath ghosting the shell of your ear. You swallow thickly, the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end with how close he is, “You know Reg, of course.”

“Oh, of course. Who could forget him.” You chuckle and he snorts, laughing a little with you. The boy in question is currently stood off to the side, that familiar brooding aura practically engulfing him.

“He is quite the character, isn’t he.” You giggle at that and he grins. 

“Sirius.” Your attention turns back in the direction of Sirius’ parents to find them directly in front of you. You startle and Orion laughs, a sound that you honestly didn’t think he was capable of making based on what Sirius has told you about him, “My apologies. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“Oh, um, it’s alright.” You titter, chancing a glance at Sirius and finding him tense beside you. You look back to Orion and offer your hand, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.”

“Likewise.” He gives you a tight lipped smile and it’s then that you realize this is just for show. He disapproves of you just as much as Walburga does. You shift your weight between your feet nervously. You know this is just for tonight, that none of this is real, but a part of you had hoped Sirius’ parents would at least give you a chance. Probably because a part of you hoped he would give you a chance. Merlin, this was a stupid idea. Why did you ever agree to this—?

Sirius gives your waist a gentle squeeze before subtly rubbing your side with his thumb over the fabric of your dress. A way to say ‘I’m here. Calm down.’ without drawing too much attention. He can practically feel your nerves radiating off of you. Little does he know, his touch is doing absolutely nothing to calm your racing heart.

“Sirius mentioned we’d finally be meeting you today.” You attention focuses back on the man in front of you and you smile.

“Finally? Has he mentioned me before?” You ask, looking to Sirius and finding his face flushed.

“In passing, yes.”

“Though I can’t begin to understand why.” His mother mutters and your stomach twists into a knot.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask, you aren’t a fan of confrontation, but the words have left your mouth before you can really think about the consequences.

“My son in love with a half-breed like you?” She scoffs, and that knot in your stomach pulls taut, “I can only wonder what possessed him to even consider it.”

“Half-breed? What—?”

“Your father is F/n L/n, correct? Successful, powerful. Any witch in her right mind would have married him in a heartbeat,” you swallow thickly, glancing at Sirius to find him scowling at Walburga, though she pays him no mind. Instead, her gaze is focused entirely on you, “But no. He went and married your mother, a muggle.”

“How did you—?” How did you know that? Is what you were about to ask, but you don’t get the chance.

“We have eyes and ears everywhere, miss L/n.” She states, gaze cold and unwavering, “You’ll find it is impossible to hide anything from us for long. Especially when your sorry excuse for a mother is married to one of the most successful men in the wizarding world.”

You find that the shame that’s been building in your gut shifts, anger flaring hot and bright in its place. Your eyes darken and your gaze hardens, spine straightening as your anger gives you a new found sense of confidence.

“You have no right to speak of my mother that way.” You state, tone firm and deadly. It almost dares her to do it again, to see what happens.

She quirks a brow at you, face screwing up into a scowl, “Talking back to your elders. Has no one taught you respect?”

“Respect is a two way street, Mrs. Black,” You state, watching her scowl deepen, “Whether you’re my elder or not.”

“How dare you.” She hisses, and Sirius goes rigid beside you, grip tightening on your waisy, “I refuse to be disrespected like this in my own house! Especially not by a filthy mudblood like yourself.”

Your heart drops to your stomach and the anxiety that’s been building in your chest reaches a breaking point, each breath feeling shallower than the last.

“Leave.” She states, leaving no room for arguments, “I don’t ever want to see your face here again.”

“Gladly.” You glower, pulling away from Sirius and speed walking towards the door.

You hear him call your name but you pay him no mind, storming out of his house despite the fact that it’s now pouring. It takes mere seconds for the rain to soak through your clothes and wreck your makeup, though it’s unclear whether your mascara is running due to weather or your tears. You can hear Sirius calling your name over the sound of droplets showering the pavement, hear his steps splashing over the sidewalk. 

“Y/n, wait! Please!” He grasps your wrist and turns you around, face falling further when he sees the look on your face.

“What?” You ask, voice thick with tears, “What do you want? If you expect me to go back in there, you’re wasting your time.”

“I don’t. I came to see if you’re alright—.”

“Of course I’m not alright! Your mother practically ripped me apart in there!” You exclaim and he winces. You laugh wryly and stare off behind him, holding the sides of your head in your hands before running them down your face and letting them fall limp at your sides, “Y’know, there was actually a part of me that wanted this to work out. I thought that if they liked me, maybe—.” You stop yourself short, swallowing the lump in your throat.

He steps into your space and tentatively takes your hand, “Maybe what?”

You suck in a shuddering breath and shake your head, hair hanging wet in your peripherals when you lower your head to stare at the ground. 

“Hey,” His touch is as soft as his voice when he tilts your head up to look at him, “Maybe what?”

You stare up at him earnestly, eyes wide and glassy. When you finally speak, your voice is wobbly and barely louder than the rain falling around you, “I thought maybe you’d… I don’t know, maybe you’d want me? I thought if they approved, you might want to keep me around. Not just as your friend.”

“Y/n, I…” He wets his lips and seems to think for a moment before sighing with a small smile, “Fuck it.”

 In an instant his hands are cradling your face and his lips are on yours. You let out a small sqeak of surprise before you’re kissing back, hands sliding up to grip his collar and pull him ever closer. He chuckles through his nose and you feel the vibrations tickle your lips, his breath fanning over your cheeks in short bursts as his thumbs softly caress your cheekbones. The kiss is languid, almost overwhelming, the both of you savouring what you’ve denied each other for so long.

When he pulls back, he rests his forehead against yours, your heavy breaths mingling in the space between you. His hands leave your face only to settle on your waist to bring you closer.

“What was that for?” You ask softly and he snorts before throwing his head back and breaking out into a fit of laughter. You can’t help but laugh a little with him, “What’s so funny?”

“Merlin, how much is it going to take for you to get it?” He chuckles, his laughter dying down and being replaced with an almost unbearably soft smile. He tucks a few wet strands of hair behind your ears and cups your face again, voice soft but firm, “I already want you, Y/n. I’ve always wanted you.”

“Really?” You utter, and he can’t help but think that it’s entirely unfair for you to still look so beautiful with your makeup running and your face all flushed and blotchy from crying.

He guides your face closer to press a kiss between your brows before pulling back to look at you again, “Really.”

You beam at him and lean up to kiss him again before pulling back suddenly, “Oh.”

“What?” He frowns.

“I think we broke one of my rules.” You whisper and he chuckles.

“Yeah, I think we did,” He smiles, looking down at your lips again, “But really, when have we ever cared about rules?”

“We?” You quirk a brow and he laughs.

“Okay, when have I ever cared about rules.” he pecks your lips, “Better?” 

“Better.” You giggle, leaning up to press a few more soft and sweet kisses to his lips.

————

Just over a week later, you’re sat in the Gryffindor common room. With it being Saturday, you decide to spend a bit of time reading before your friends decide to finally drag you out with them.

You’re curled up against the arm of the sofa with your book, thoroughly lost in the story when you hear James and Sirius bickering about something as they come down the stairs, Peter and Remus following close behind.

“You are so, painfully wrong, prongs.” Sirius laughs before spotting you and practically draping himself against your side. He pulls you close with the arm around your shoulders and you lean into him when he pecks your cheek, “Hello, love.”

“Hi.” You smile, shifting to lean against him instead of the sofa. You catch James looking between the two of you suspiciously and frown, “What?”

“What is this?” He asks, gesturing between the two of you with his pointer finger.

You turn to Sirius to find an amused look hung on his face, “You didn’t tell him?”

“Tell me what?” James asks, looking thoroughly confused.

“I wanted to see how long it would take for him to figure it out.” Sirius says, watching the look of realization dawn on his best friend’s face, “Looks like the answer is a week.”

“Oh my god!” He exclaims, “Fucking finally! Merlin, we were all so sick of watching you two pine over each other like love sick puppies.”

“To be fair, one of them is a love sick puppy.” Remus smirks and you chuckle at the halfhearted glare Sirius aims at him.

“Sod off, Moony.” He laughs.

“So, how’d it happen? Did he finally confess his undying love for you?” James asks and you chuckle, sharing a look with Sirius.

“It’s kind of a long story.”

#sirius black fluff #sirius black x reader fluff #sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x reader #sirius x reader #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black imagine #sirius black #the marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders headcanon #marauders x reader #marauders era #marauders

[sixtypackofcrayola]

Wukong and Macaque with an innocent reader?? and reader likes cuddles

haha more monkey men

✰ Sun Wukong and Macaque x Soft!Reader ✰

Fandom; LEGO Monkie Kid Character List; Macaque, SWK Genre(s); FLUFF, lil' bit of Angst TW/CW; A little blood A/N; i accidentally lost all of this once so i had 2 rewrite it</3 but anyways i had to put on my most sickeningly sweet playlist while writing this ofc,, hope you like ! wukong's is a bit longer bc tbh i didn't mean to make a whole ass scenario but here we are,,

☀️ Sun Wukong

-This man is absolutely in love with you -You're his partner so of course he loves you! BUT BRO -You were like his literal sunshine, so bright and sweet and fun. How could anyone not like you? -If you call him any sweet petname, his tail is always swishing around with a proud smile on his face -Yeah!! That's him!!! -He likes holding your face when he kisses you -If you like to bake, he's gonna wanna be in the kitchen with you, watching what you do -Tell him he can help! He might not be that good, but it's okay because you two always have fun making things together -If you cry easily, he'll always be there to hug you and calm you down. He absolutely hates seeing you cry -Have stuffed animals? Get matching ones with him! He'll keep his somewhere he can always look at it -He likes when you hold onto his arm. It lets him know you trust him :) -You love cuddles? So does he! -Will never pass up an opportunity to cuddle you. He loves holding you or when you cling to him, and if you hold him he's gonna melt -If you let him lay his head on your lap, he will fall asleep, just sayin' -You're his comfort, his happy place -One time he came back to the mountain only to find you playing with his little monkey friends! You were petting them and talking about how cute they were as a few gathered near you. You giggled and said hi to every one. -Wukong's heart is doin' flips rn -"Heyy, peaches! What are you, the monkey whisperer?" -You snort at his question as he sits next to you, the end of his tail thumping against the ground -One of the monkeys leaps onto his shoulder and you both laugh a little -How'd he get someone as amazing as you? He was one of the coolest people he knew, but you,, -He could never get enough of you. Your smile, your laugh, you kindness and the way you always tried to see the best in people. The way you waved to him when he had to leave for a bit, the way you tried to hold in a laugh and shoved his shoulder when he made a joke, your soft and loving voice-- -Your love made him feel something he hadn't felt in many, many years. Your softness makes HIM soft bro -Wukong will listen when you tell him about little things that make you happy. A certain animal, a certain flower, certain weather. Anything! -And if you're easily flustered he will totally take advantage of that, reminding you every day of how beautiful you are to him and telling you how pretty your outfit is! And of course he'll tease you a bit just for fun -If you happen to compliment him back, MAN DOWN

-Wukong wants to protect you as best as he can. If you can't protect yourself, he wants to be your protector -If demons come after him, he doesn't want them to come after you -He always wants to know that you're safe. Teach this man to use a phone so you can text him! Might take a while though -And if a demon ever does come after you... ohu boy -He is beyond angry -Nothing is gonna stop him from getting to you. Anything to get you back, safely in his arms -And once he locates you and the demon,, -That monster will never see the light of day again -But his light, however, is safe. And that's all he cares about right now -You cry as he bursts in and absolutely destroys that demon in like 3 hits -You knew Wukong would come to aid you, but still, you were so scared of what would happen to you before then. You try to wipe your tears, but they just keep coming -Wukong looks back at you, and his gaze immediately softens, any sign of anger leaving his features -He hurries to you, and you don't hesitate to practically leap into his arms, sniffling and thanking him -He wraps his arms around you tightly and assures you that everything is okay now. Your amazing boyfriend was here! Nothing else would hurt you now -"..Hey, don't cry, sunshine. It's safe, you're safe now, okay? Yeah?" -He doesn't want to, but he pulls away so he can summon his cloud and get you both outta there -He smiles at you to reassure you, but his smile falls upon seeing the blood on your face,, and your arm? -Had he not noticed before? Being so happy to see you,, -The injuries stung, but you weren't paying much attention to them right now. The distress was clear on Wukong's face, however -You were about to say his name, but he quickly pulled you close again and hopped on his cloud, holding you tightly as you both soared back to Flower Fruit -Once you were back, Wukong was patching up your injuries as best as he could. He was uncharacteristically quiet while doing it, only speaking to ask if something hurt or if he was being too rough -You looked at him with a hint of worry -"Wukong, are you okay..?" -"..Huh- Me? Oh, no, I'm fine-! I just..Are you okay?" -He was just real worried about you :( Especially after seeing that the demon had actually injured you before he could bash its face in -After reassuring him that you were okay, just a bit shaken up but grateful he came to get you, he smiles -He's never gonna let a demon capture and hurt you like that again. Never. You don't deserve to go through that. You deserve to smile and laugh and pick those flowers you like and see all the things that make you happy! -The rest of the day he's just a little more touchy with you than usual, wanting you close, and it's understandable -Kiss him on the nose or forehead before you go to sleep, he loves it -And in the morning he'll wake you up by kissing your neck a bunch, and he'll laugh if you push his face away -Give him a gift and he'll gasp -"A gift? For me? Awh, ya didn't have toooo! You must love me a whole bunch!" -Genuinely appreciates anything you give him! -What he appreciates the most, though, is you. What would he do without you?

🌙 Macaque

-Initially took your softness for plain weakness -But once he unexpectedly started falling for you, he thought maybe it was a facade. Maybe you're just that good and you're up to something -And then you started dating, and he just found it cute -Guess opposites really do attract -If you call him with a sweet petname instead of his name, he'll answer normally, but you can see his tail swaying -You kinda bring this new light to his life, something he didn't know he needed anymore -He's not too good with crying, but if you ever cry he'll quietly hold you and rub circles on your back -"Shh, you're alright. ..Somethin' happen?" -If it was someone who made you cry, they better pray to whatever god they believe in -He's actually pretty good at cooking/baking. If you ask him he'll gladly bake something with you if he's not busy -Would put icing on your nose and laugh a bit -He likes cupcakes the best and if you made some for him he'd just,, he's very thankful -"You made these for me? Seriously? ..Aren't you sweet? Heh, thank you-" -If you happen to get him a stuffed animal, he'll certainly keep it. He won't react as excitedly as Wukong, but he really does appreciate it because it's from you. Plushies aren't his thing, but it'll sit by his bed and remind him of you -Leaves a note with a flower you like if he leaves without you knowing -Hold his face and smile at him, he will melt inside -Touch starved but doesn't like touch that much. It took a little while for him to be completely comfortable with going to cuddle you. Not that he didn't want to, he was just a bit iffy with such close contact,, -Your touch is warm, inviting, kind. He ends up loving when you curl up next to him and if he's upset that day he might come up next to you. Pls hold him -You're always so affectionate with him, he almost can't believe it. But it's just in your nature. You're a caring and soft person with a lot of love to give -Likes kissing your neck or forehead if he leaves or before you sleep -Will tease you if you fluster easily, seeing you blush makes him smile -Everytime he hears you laugh it feels like he's falling for you all over again. How did someone as bitter as him get someone so sweet, he wonders

-Of course he's gonna protect you -He tries to keep you out of anything dangerous he might do, but he always makes sure he'll come back to you -He always seems to know if you're in some sort of danger. It doesn't happen too often, but when it does you know you'll be okay when you see a familiar shadow creep up behind whoever's endangering you -"Hey, sweets, miss me?" -You waste no time clinging to him and thanking him for saving you, tears threatening to fall -He puts an arm around you, "No one's gonna hurt you like that anymore.. alright? I'll be here quicker if it happens again. They won't get the chance." -Macaque likes shiny things or things that glow. Some things like that he picks up he'll give to you randomly -He loves when you're happy to see him when you two see each other again. It feels so good to be wanted by you -Anytime you say you love him, or pet his head, kiss him or smile at him, he's reminded of just how in love he is -Everything feels a bit more whole with you there. You warm his heart by just being near him -He loves you to death bro ( Fin. ~ ✰ )

#relatable username #lmk #lego monkie kid #lego monkie king #macaque x reader #monkie kid macaque #sun wukong x reader #sun wukong #lmk sun wukong #lmk macaque #lmk headcanon #monkie kid sun wukong #macaque #lmk x reader

[emk4444]

ONCE-LER VALENTINE'S SPECIAL:

It's been another long day. Despite the celebration that's intended for lovers, there's still plenty of hustle just like in any other occasion. The hustles, the usual come-and-go. An unsolicited feeling of boredom with the burden of mundanity is lingering throughout. You're lost in the Limbo of your mind.

After the eternal has subsided, it is finally time to be off from your part-time job at an instrument repair... A few hesitant taps catch your attention.

Before you, The Once-ler himself - albeit it might as well be a statue of him considering his petrified state. The gaze of his azure irises dart all over, occasionally meeting your own, the sanguine blush of his cheeks make his freckles more prominent

The guy has been lingering in the back of your mind for a couple of hours and even days prior, though given that you two aren't much more than working partners it could feel unwarranted to have made the approach yourself. You can't dwell on thought too long before he begins

Once-ler's brows curl up as he hands you the bouquet he didn't bother hiding well at all.

His speech is tender yet thrilled as he makes the confession:

If it hasn't been clear enough with the amount of personal issues he's been sharing recently, he's had feelings for you for a while. There's a lot of hustle in his life as well, having to get around various part-time jobs to sustain himself; the disapproval and mockery of the townsfolk upon him offering his Thneed publicly haven't exactly been a source of comfort. But you have. There's still plenty to consider, and he makes it clear that understanding his feelings―platonic or romantic―for you is rather confusing. Yet there's no denial that his affection is genuine.

You don't notice, but the palpitations of his heart bursts and flutter underneath his clothes. The soothing scent of roses flutters about too, gently scattering the two of you as you stand in proximity...

Eight roses, carefully picked... There's a chance that he might been the one who gathered them from a bush... He's been known for cutting on plants anyway. Their petals bend and twist in an endless twirl, their spines have been thoughtfully cut away. You lean closer to inhale their enchanting perfume. Your eyes glistening at the sight...

Huh, what's that?

He's also brought chocolates?

You're aware that Once-ler tends to be short on money to spend, you know, given that his Thneeds are currently very disregarded...

Once-ler's face begins to brighten up, not only from a smile but as he's slowly getting confident with this interaction. He tries to control his timid grin as you receive the golden box. They're not the cheapest kind. He's certainly giving a lot here.

For a while, you're left speechless... What could be said anyway? You've gotten too caught up with your own worries, and now him pouring out his heart in that way just makes it all hard to process.

You begin by expressing gratitude: not only for the devoted gesture, but for his determination too. It's definitely a bold move and, of course, there's the need to consider whether you could work out well together. Neither of you are familiar with closeness. Regardless, you're willing to give it a go. You express that this all feels like the plot of a carefully constructed dream.....

In that case, YOU must really be the guy of my dreams!!

...

That was the last straw. He hides away as you chuckle at his dorkiness. It's all so corny, but the way you compliment Once-ler's essence it makes it completely worthwhile.

End 🌹

Wow that was goofy. Anyways, here's some extras!!

~ You two decide to go out for the day. You offered to take a photo of him along with his gifts. The moment of his smitten gesture is now forever sealed in time.

Oh, that derpy little smile is what was missing !

~ You invite him to have a couple of chocolates. He refused and was adamant about you having all of them. In the end, he did try one or two...

~ After teasing him jokingly about the vast amount of times he stuttered whilst expressing his feelings, you pucker up and lean closer... He gets more flustered than ever

Perhaps, in the possible future you too might share together, a full-on lipstick kiss attack would be an appropriate way to proceed - after all, his silly reaction is to die for !

(quite literally. Bro looks unhinged yo)

Happy late valentine's to all my folks 💞

#onceler #lorax 2012 #valentines day #first person pov #goofy #narrative

[httpsdana]

hi!!! thanks so much for writing for eric garcia, could i please request him with propmts 15, 49, and 63 ? thank you!

Flirt~Eric Garcia

*GIF isn't mine. credits to the owner*

@ericgarcias is slowly making me fall for Eric blame her

I'm glad I'm getting requests for him. the lack of Eric content is slowly killing us . anyways enjoy <3

you can request from my prompt list

this is master list

players/drivers I write for

15-"good morning sunshine " " fuck off"

49-"How is my gorgeous girlfriend doing today ?" "What did you do?"

63-"is this what you call flirting?" "you fell for it the first time, though."

Eric was known to be a huge flirt. Whether it was with his teammates or girlfriend. He just liked complimenting people, even if they were his teammates.

Though, after he started dating y/n, his flirting with other people decreased, but increased with his girl. He just always had to shower her with compliments to remind her how much she means to him.

Eric had an early training session. After waking up on his alarm, that didn't wake up y/n who was laying next to him, he glanced at the screen of his phone, seeing that this early session was cancelled.

He let out a sigh knowing he wasn't gonna be able to sleep again. But then he decided to prepare some breakfast for his lover. He felt like spoiling her all day that day.

Getting up from his bed, he pressed a kiss on y/n's forehead before slipping on a shirt and walking to their kitchen.

He was always such a good cook. He made some of y/n's favorite pancakes, making sure to shape them as hearts. He cut some fruits and designed them on the plate.

He filled a glass of orange juice and put some honey over the pancakes, before carrying the plate and cup of juice to their room

y/n was still in deep slumber, making Eric smile at the sight of her. Sleeping was sacred when it came to y/n. She cherished her sleep more than anything (except for Eric for sure)

Setting the plate and cup on the nightstand, he sat down on the bed, leaning on his elbow so his face was hovering over hers

He started by pressing a kiss on her forehead, then on her right cheek, then left cheek, then on the tip of her nose, before his lips settled on hers.

She groaned against his lips, making Eric smile against her mouth. He pulled away, glancing at her eyes that were now half open

"good morning sunshine" he muttered in a low voice

"fuck off" she groaned again, rolling so her back was facing Eric

"come on baby. I made you some of your favorite pancakes" he ran his fingers through the strands of her messy hair

She turned around again, peeking through one eye to look at him. He chuckled and turned to grab the plate

Meanwhile, y/n stretched her arms over head, letting out a sigh as her muscles relaxed

Eric placed the plate on her lap, pressing a kiss on the side of her head in process

"so...how is my gorgeous girlfriend doing today ?" he grinned, making her chuckle

"What did you do?" she said with a mouth full of pancakes

"other than breaking an egg on the floor and almost burning your pancakes? nothing" he shrugged, the grin still plastered on his face

"aren't you supposed to be at training anyways?" she asked, taking a sip of her juice

"it was cancelled" he laid back down on the bed, turning his head to look at her

"and what's with the breakfast anyways?" she stuffed her face with pancakes, hummed in satisfaction making Eric chuckle

"just felt like spoiling my girl" he shrugged making her look at him with an amused look

"oh did you?" she teased, making him turn red

"yeah yeah. just felt like making some delicious breakfast for my delicious girl" he said with a smirk, making y/n burst out of laughter

"is this what you call flirting?" she asked, still alughing at his attempt

"you fell for it the first time, though." he pointed out making y/n nod

"yes I did. don't make me regret it though" she put a warning finger in his face

"you will not. and I wouldn't let you anyways" he leaned in closer to her face

"I know you wouldn't" she mumbled before leaning in too, closing the small distance between them

#football #football blurb #football imagine #football one shot #football x reader #footballer imagine #barcelona #fc barça #fc barca #fc barcelona #eric garcia blurb #eric garcia imagine #eric garcia x reader #eric garcia #eric garcía

[jayteacups]

A Failed Attempt

The two of you are happily in a relationship, and have been for several months know. But even so, Levi can't help but feel like he should be more traditionally romantic.

Little does he know just how bad at that he is.

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x fem!Reader

Tags and warnings: Fluff and silliness, established relationship, he can’t flirt nor can he give compliments properly lmao pls help him

Word count: 0.7k

A/N: Have this dumb little blurb that came to me as I was getting ready for bed. his is extremely stupid and unedited but anyway. enjoy ig lol

Say something. Just say it, you silly coward. 

The first thing that comes to mind blurts out of his mouth before Levi can think it over. “Your hair smells nice today. It’s looking very... uh, clean. And shiny. That’s... that’s good.”

No! Not that! What the actual fuck was that? No!

Puzzled, you turn around from the snack you are preparing, raising an eyebrow. “Uh... thanks? I washed my hair last night before going to bed... and you were literally in the shower with me, so you already know that.” 

For fuck’s sake, I should never try to compliment anyone again. “Forget it,” Levi scowls. 

“No, baby, hang on,” you catch him by the sleeve before he can flee this disastrous conversation, “were you... were you trying to flirt with me just then?” 

“No.” Heat rushes to his face.

You lean a little closer. “My hair smells nice today? I sure hope it does, considering you were the one to gift me that particular shampoo I’m currently using,” you smirk. Gods, you are so annoying. Why the fuck is that smirk of yours making his heart fucking spasm? “Did Miche give you flirting tips or something?” 

“Stop.” Levi is ashamed that the plea comes out like a whine and turns away from you. For the record, no, he would not stoop as low to ask his comrades (friends, he thinks begrudgingly) for something so trivial as helping him flirt with you. “Forget I said anything.” 

“Awww,” you coo. He wants to wipe that smug shit-eating grin off of your face. Preferably with his own lips. His face is so hot he thinks he might combust. If he’s being honest, he’d rather explode in a spontaneous burst of flames than continue with this conversation. 

You tilt your head, approaching ever closer, one hand settling at the curve of his waist. “You’re so cute.” 

“I am not,” he counters, and curses that his voice had chosen that very moment to break mid-sentence. “Let me go, I have a strategy meeting right about now.”

“No you don’t,” you say, your thumb rubbing patterns into his flesh. He shivers. 

“No he doesn’t,” Hange echoes breezily as they waltz into the kitchen with an empty mug in hand. Probably refilling their coffee. He simultaneously is relieved and disappointed that you withdraw your hand from his waist, taking a step back. “Sorry, what are we talking about?”

“Nothing,” Levi says quickly. The last thing he needs is Hange finding out about his disastrous attempts at being more traditionally romantic, and how you had managed to turn the tables on him in less than five bloody seconds. 

“Sure...” they mutter, giving him a teasing look, but choosing not to say more on it. 

Glaring at them as their back is turned to him, Levi huffs. This is all their fault anyway, they’d suggested this in the first place. He hadn’t even asked - and they have no idea that one offhanded comment had wormed deep into his thoughts to the point where he’d say something so clumsily awkward in an attempt to flirt. 

‘Did you flirt with her?’ Hange had said, trying to pry details about how you two had gotten together out of him. ‘Women are into that, you know. A little bit of flirting here and there. Get her flustered a little bit. Did you do that? Fluster her? I bet she’d like it.’

‘Quit it. I’m not looking for relationship advice, Hange. Nor am I going to tell you every tiny detail about my love life.’

He’s made a few comments here and there about the stupidity of the new, rowdy teen recruits.

Really, though, he’s no better.

You give him a brief kiss. Your lips are soft, inviting. Once more, he wishes Hange hadn’t walked in so he could kiss you for longer without worrying about prying eyes. “I’ll see you later, Lee.” You grin, and lower your voice as you teasingly say, “and by the way, your hair smells nice as well. Clean, too, but obviously, nobody’s expecting any less from you.”

Hange chokes. 

You pick up your plate with your snacks and wave him goodbye (he buries his burning face in his hand) before leaving the private kitchen. Almost immediately, Hange is turning on their heel, undoubtedly about to bombard him with questions that he absolutely is not willing to answer.  

“Shut up.” 

They raise their hands in mock surrender. “I didn’t say anything!” 

© jayteacups 2022 | do not repost, modify or claim as your own work

Masterlist

#levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi x you #levi ackerman x you #levi x y/n #levi ackerman x y/n #levi fluff #he's trying to flirt n fluster but the tables get turned on him...... so quickly might i add #aasldkjfds sweet boy someone help him

[natalynsie]

The Best Thing (Gustholomule Oneshot)

Matt's least favorite event had to be Grom.

Or, at least, that's how it was the last two years.

“Bro, I don't wanna be the fifth wheel again,” Gus complained to Matt as they sat in Matt's room doing homework. Matt layed stomach down on his bed, writing his essay on dual tracks. Gus was working on full-room illusions for his advanced class, so if Matt's essay turned into a book on Gusology, he knew why.

“Yeah?” Matt responded. At least he got to be a wheel. If Matt was anything, it was a unicycle.

“Last year was all, 'oh my sweet potato' and Hunter awkwardly flirting with Willow. Made me miss announcing. But now that's King's full time thing.”

“Okay? What are you getting at?”

“Wanna go with me?” Gus asked, looking at Matt, whose stoic expression quickly burst into flames.

Gus seemed to regret all of his life choices as he waved his hands in front of his face.

“No, no no no, as a friend! Titan, that wording was bad.”

“Oh, oh, okay,” Matt calmed down. Not that he wasn't a little disappointed. But wait– he got to go with a friend this year! Something other than a random date that would ditch him in the first ten minutes. Hopefully Gus wouldn't ditch him.

Gus wasn't like that. He hoped.

Sometimes he felt like Gus was just playing a giant prank on him. Bria used to do things like that, ask him to do things with her and never show up. It was so embarrassing, even before she went bad she did things like that.

But Gus was different.

“Sure, I'll go with you,” Matt responded.

“Great!” Gus chirped. “It's settled. I'll pick you up at 6:30.”

“Sounds great.”

Even after Gus left, Matt worried. It was crazy, he knew Gus was his friend for real. Gus never did anything to hurt him. He stopped calling him Matty when asked, even though Matt kind of liked it (something Gus picked up on and started calling him Matty again). He let him sit with him at lunch without Matt having to convince him. He kept his promises and he never genuinely insulted him.

But the thought still haunted his mind.

He shook his head. Gus was amazing. Really amazing.

Matt couldn't deny it. Every time Gus called him Matty, or rested his arm on Matt's shoulder, or complimented Matt, even if it wasn't even a huge compliment, Matt's heart raced and his stomach filled with butterflies.

It felt kind of wrong. Gus was his best friend, and daydreaming about holding hands and kissing him would be so weird if Gus ever found out. He could only imagine Gus's reaction– disgusted and repulsed. He would never want to see Matt's face again.

Matt couldn't ever tell him. It was such a big risk. The tiny chance Gus felt the same, or losing his only friend.

Maybe Matt should change that "tiny chance" to zero percent chance. Why would Gus like him?

Gus was confident, and pretty, and funny, and cool, and nice, and talented, and Matt was none of those things. The only thing he had going for him was his art, maybe his writing, but those traits were unknown to Gus anyways.

Sometimes, Matt wondered why Gus even bothered to hang out with him.

“Matt!” Steve called from downstairs, knocking Matt out of his thoughts. “Dinner!”

“Coming!” Matt yelled back, putting his pencil down and racing down the stairs.

He sat across the table from his brother, immediately eating his food.

“So, what did you and Gus do?” Steve asked.

“Just hung out. He asked me if I wanted to go to Grom with him and his friends.”

“Man, you should just ask him out already,” Steve suggested.

“No way! He'd be so grossed out. He'd never want to hang out with me again.”

“Matt, how long have you been crushing on this kid? Like ten months?”

“A year.”

“Right. An entire year. I know you're scared, but I think you should go for it. From what I've seen, he likes you back. Plus, he's way too nice to give up being your friend anyway.”

Matt frowned. “Augustus may be nice, but he's not going to stay friends with me for pity points. My stupid crush is gonna be the end of me!”

Steve rolled his eyes. “I'll never be able to convince you, will I?”

“Nope,” Matt smirked.

Steve sighed. “You are such a handful.”

~~~

The day of Grom came too fast. The queen was revealed to be Willow, and Luz and Amity were no doubt ecstatic to cheer for her.

Matt was in his room, fixing his hair. He was wearing white suit with a red shirt, and he spent way too much time doing his makeup, which was just red eyeshadow and black mascara. He just wanted to look perfect.

Knock knock knock.

Matt ran down the stairs to see Steve already talking to Gus. Gus was wearing a newer blue suit, which was paler in color and had the slightest hint of green.

“Hey Augustus,” Matt greeted.

“Matty! You look awesome! Are you ready to go?”

Matt blushed slightly. “Yeah. Let's go.”

Gus smiled, waving goodbye to Steve as he closed the door.

The two began walking towards the school. It was only a five minute walk from Matt’s to Hexide, so they didn’t even need their palismen.

“Your brother was telling me–” Gus began, but was cut off.

“Spare me my dignity and don’t tell me, will you?” Matt replied.

“Fair response, your brother always tells me the most embarrassing stuff about you.”

“I should start telling his girlfriend embarrassing things about him,” Mathholomule suggested. “See how he likes it.”

“His girlfriend? Why not his friends.”

Matt blushed, realizing what he just compared. “Um, I mean, because his girlfriend is really close with him and I’m really close with you– but not in a girlfriend way! Oh my titan, I’m sorry, I just–”

Matt screamed into his hands and he heard Gus giggle. “It’s fine dude, talking is like that sometimes.”

“This time it wasn’t talking, it was just me,” Matt complained. “I should learn how to not do that.”

“Hey Gus!” A shout was heard from above. Matt and Gus looked up to see Willow and Hunter flying to the school.

“Is that your boyfriend?” Hunter asked.

“He’s not my boyfriend!” Gus yelled back.

“Keep telling yourself that,” Willow said, flying closer to ground level.

“Wow, you are very calm, considering you’re about to battle Grom,” Matt commented, trying to change the subject.

“I think I’ve got it. I’ve conquered my fears before, I can probably do it again.” Willow shrugged, looking away.

She couldn’t do it again.

It wasn’t even fifteen minutes into Grom when Willow ran off screaming, a figure Matt couldn’t make out chasing her.

On a less terrifying note, the first fifteen minutes were okay. Actually, they were great. Hunter, Amity, and Luz spent their time cheering for Willow while Gus and Matt dramatically lip-synced to the music in the background. There was some teasing from Luz and Amity, but it wasn’t anything he wasn’t used to.

But getting shoved through a crowd and into the hole Grom came out of was something he wasn’t used to.

His screams as he fell were drowned out by the screams of everyone else.

When he hit the ground, stopped rolling, and looked up, he saw no light. There were dim orbs of light illuminating the caverns he had fallen into, but he still could barely see his feet.

Meanwhile, above the chaos, Gus was busy calling out for Matt.

He knew Matt had probably ran off with the crowd, but he was better safe than sorry.

When everyone was gone, he expected silence to be heard, but there was a faint sound coming from the caverns. Gus’s heart dropped as he dropped himself into the hole under the school.

In the darkness, Gus couldn’t see much, but he saw small parts of Grom swarming together in one spot far down the tunnel. Gus followed quickly after.

“Matty?” He called out, to no answer.

He heard faint whispers down the tunnel, and slowed down.

“Matt?”

The whispers got louder.

“Did you really think you could get away from me?” Gus heard a voice that resembled Bria’s ask.

Gus creeped down the hall, following where the voice had come from.

“I wish you were never born, I’ve lost my entire youth because I had to deal with you,” Steve was heard, louder than Bria had been. Another voice began to whisper, and Gus froze as his heart stopped.

That was his voice.

“You really thought I wanted to be friends with you?” It began, and Gus started running as fast as he could toward the sound. He peered over a corner to where he saw Grom, a form of Gus with a death grip on Matt’s head. Gus could see the tears running down Matt’s face through his closed eyes, completely helpless and alone. “You’re useless, I just kept you around for laughs. I never wanted to be your friend, nevermind your bo-”

Gus screamed and jumped at Grom. Maybe Gus wasn’t exactly strong or had practical magic for this type of situation, but his anger took a hold of him. He punched the fear bringer as much as he could before it slipped through the cracks of his fingers and formed itself next to him.

Matt was frozen, but Gus couldn’t pay attention right then. Luz had given him glyphs in case of this type of situation, so he folded a fire glyph in half and pointed it at Grometheus, who would morph into Adrian Graye if given the chance. But Gus wasn’t willing to give those chances.

“Augustus…” Matt whispered, but Gus couldn’t hear.

Gus opened more plant and fire glyphs, even though he knew he was starting to run low.

“AUGUSTUS!”

Matt pulled Gus out of the way of a giant arm flying through the air towards Gus, taking his hand and running. Gus threw some ice glyphs down the tunnel while Matt dragged him up the stairs and out of the pit.

The two sprinted out of the school and into the forest behind it. Matt created a little dome with magic to hide them from Grom.

Gus let out a sigh of relief and looked up to Matt, whose face was buried in his hands.

“Matty, are you okay?” Gus asked.

“No? I just watched all my worst fears come to life,” Matty responded, not daring to look up.

Gus slid over to him quietly, looking at the barren wall in front of them. “I’m sorry, Matt.”

“Thanks for helping me,” Matt mumbled. “I would still be down there if not for you.”

“Of course. You’re my friend.”

Gus heard Matt let out a sob, and take in a shaky breath.

“I mean it. No matter what Grom said. You’re my best friend.”

“Why?” Matt croaked.

That simple word pained Gus to his very soul. From the tone to the question, it wasn’t right. No one should have to ask that.

“Because you’re awesome,” Gus began. “Honestly, you’re so much more past surface level. You’re really smart when it comes to literature. I like how you talk a lot, and no matter what happens to you, you persevere. You’re always there when I need you and you’ll do anything for people you love. What more could I ask for?”

Matt looked at Gus with teary eyes and a soft smile. His mascara, and makeup and general, was ruined but Gus still thought he looked great. Matt choked and cried again, but this time of happy tears.

Gus pulled him in for a hug, and Matt dug his face into Gus’s shoulder.

“I’m so glad I have you,” Matt stated simply, and Gus felt his heart skip a beat.

“I’m glad I have you too,” Gus responded as Matt rose back from his shoulder, wiping his final tears away.

“Do you think Steve really hates me?” Matt asked, looking away.

“No,” Gus replied. “He was just talking about how proud he was of you when I knocked on your door. Though he did add a comment about it being a ‘date’.”

“Oh my gosh, he’s so embarrassing,” Matt groaned. “But I still love him.”

Gus smiled.

“I feel like I’m such a burden right now,” Matt half-joked. “To you and Steve. But I think I know you guys care for me a lot. Just tell me if I’m being too much.”

“You’re never too much,” Gus comforted. “You’re not a burden, and you’re right, I do care about you. A lot.”

Matt pulled away from the hug and leaned against the wall of the dome.

“Can I tell you something?” He asked.

“Yeah, what?” Gus asked.

“Well, before I say, I just want you to know that it’s okay if you… don’t want to be friends with me anymore. We had a good run.”

“What?” Gus questioned, voice cracking. Nothing would ever make him not want to be friends with Matt.

“I… kinda have a crush on you…”

Gus froze, processing the overload of information he had just received.

Matty? Like me? Oh titan, oh titan, oh titan, I’ve lost the ability to speak. Focus, Gus, focus!

“I’m so sorry,” Matt apologized.

“Don’t be,” Gus managed to say. “I think I like you too,” He lowered his head shyly, but kept looking at Matt.

Matt’s eyes grew wide as he looked at Gus. “Really? You’re not messing with me, right?”

“I’d never mess with you over something like this.”

Matt’s open mouth morphed into a smile and he hugged Gus.

“You’re one of the best things that’s ever happened to me,” Matt mumbled, and Gus melted.

“You too.”

#gustholomule #augustus porter #mattholomule #willow park #hunter toh #steve tholomule #grom #the owl house #post-canon #Grometheus the Fear Bringer back to bring another gay couple together #oneshot #fanfiction #fanfic #gusxmattholomule #mattholomulexgus #toh mattholomule #toh gus #natie fics