#FOR THAT LOVELY PERSON THAT SENT ME AN ASK YOUR REQUEST IS ON ITS WAY!! <3< /div>
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Day 1 of Jeongin's birthday week fanfics
Pairing: Jeongin x F!reader Genre: Slice of life, fluff, slow burn, romance, Idol!jeongin x Artist!reader, Idol x fan Warning: Romanticization of online relationships, potential power imbalance
One quiet evening, Y/N sat at her desk, putting the finishing touches on a commission. The soft glow of her desk lamp lit up the room, casting shadows over her scattered pencils and sketchbooks. As she leaned back to admire her work, her phone buzzed with a notification.
She glanced at the screen, her curiosity piqued when she noticed the message was from an unknown number. Hesitating for only a moment, she opened it.
Hi, I heard you take personalized requests?
The message was simple, but something about it made her sit up straighter.
Yes, I'm currently open for requests, she replied, her fingers lingering on the keyboard.
The response came quickly.
Is it possible for you to design a piece for this character?
Attached was a picture of FoxI.Ny, a fan-created character with a playful, almost enchanting aura. Y/N's lips curved into a smile as she studied the details. Something about the mischievous glint in the character's eyes sparked her creativity.
Sure! I can do that! Any specific requests for the design?
Not really. I trust your creativity.
Her heart gave a tiny flutter at the words. Trust wasn't something people offered so freely, especially in her line of work.
Alright! Iâll let you know when it's finished.
Excited, Y/N wasted no time, her pencil flying across the page. She imagined FoxI.Ny with a vibrant personality, a spark of mischief in its eyes, and a fluffy tail that seemed to curl with playful defiance. As she worked, she couldnât help but wonder about the person behind the request. Were they a fellow fan? Someone who loved art as much as she did?
Hours later, she finally leaned back with a satisfied sigh. The sketch was perfectâfull of life, personality, and charm. She snapped a quick photo and sent it to her mysterious client.
The sketch is complete! Let me know what you think.
The response came almost immediately.
Wow. This is incredible. Youâre really talented. Thank you so much!
Y/N felt her cheeks warm at the compliment, a sense of pride bubbling up.
I'm glad you like it! Do let me know if thereâs anything youâd like me to change.
No needâit's perfect.
The simple reply made her heart skip a beat. They exchanged a few more messages, chatting about the sketch and FoxI.Ny. Y/N found herself smiling at her phone more than she cared to admit, warmth spreading through her chest with every reply.
A few weeks later, Y/N stood in line at a Stray Kids fan meeting, her heart pounding in nervous anticipation. The room buzzed with energy as fans excitedly chatted about meeting their idols. In her bag was a collection of her best artwork, carefully chosen as gifts for the group. Among them was the FoxI.Ny sketchâa piece she'd decided to gift Jeongin.
When it was finally her turn, Y/N's heart felt like it might burst. She approached Jeongin, the youngest member of the group, her palms slightly sweaty as she reached into her bag. He greeted her with a shy but warm smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
âThis is for you,â she said, her voice barely above a whisper as she handed him the drawing.
Jeongin's eyes widened as he took the sketch, his expression shifting from surprise to awe. âYou made this?â he asked, his voice soft, almost reverent.
âYes,â Y/N replied, her cheeks flushing under his gaze.
He studied the drawing for a long moment before looking up, his eyes meeting hers with a spark of recognition that made her breath hitch. âThank you. It's⊠perfect.â
Something about the way he said it, the way he looked at her, felt differentâalmost as if he knew something she didn't. Y/N couldn't dwell on it, though, as the line of fans behind her nudged her to keep moving.
That evening, as Y/N curled up in bed, her phone buzzed with a notification. Her heart skipped when she saw it was from the same unknown number.
I saw you today.
Her fingers trembled as she typed back.
At the fan meeting? Were you there?
Yes. And I know who you are now.
A chill ran through her as she stared at the message.
What do you mean?
This time, the reply took longer. When it finally arrived, it made her breath catch.
It's me, Jeongin. I'm the one who asked for the FoxI.Ny sketch.
Y/N's hands shook as she read and reread the message. Was this a joke? But noâthe way he'd reacted to the sketch at the fan meeting, the spark of recognition in his eyes⊠it all made sense now.
Jeongin⊠as in Stray Kids' Jeongin?
Yes. I really loved the sketch, by the way. Youâre incredibly talented.
She stared at her screen, her mind racing. The Jeongin, her idol and the person she'd admired from afar, had been the one messaging her all this time?
I don't know what to say.
She typed, her thoughts a whirlwind.
You don't have to say anything. I just wanted you to know. And⊠I'd like to keep talking to you, if that's okay.
Her heart melted at the sincerity of his words.
Of course.
Their conversations became a constant in Y/N's life. Despite his fame, Jeongin was kind, thoughtful, and surprisingly down-to-earth. He asked her about her art, her favorite songs, and her daily activities. Y/N found herself opening up to him in ways she hadn't with anyone before.
One evening, after a long chat about their childhoods, Jeongin sent a message that made her pulse quicken.
Would you like to meet in person? Just the two of us?
Y/N stared at the screen, her heart racing. Was this really happening?
I'd love to, she replied, her cheeks flushing with a mix of excitement and nervousness.
When they met, it was at a quiet café far from the prying eyes of fans and cameras. Jeongin greeted her with the same shy smile she'd seen at the fan meeting, but this time, it felt more personal. They sat across from each other, the hum of the café fading into the background as they talked and laughed, their connection growing with every passing moment.
As the evening wore on, Jeongin leaned forward slightly, his gaze soft and unwavering.
âI never thought a simple sketch could lead to this,â he said, his voice low and warm. âBut I'm so glad it did.â
Y/N's heart swelled, her cheeks burning under his gaze. âMe too,â she whispered, her lips curving into a smile.
When they finally said goodbye that night, Y/N couldn't shake the feeling that something extraordinary had begunâa connection that felt as natural as breathing, as inevitable as the turning of the stars.
And as she walked home, her heart light and full, Y/N realized that her sketch of FoxI.Ny had been the start of a story she never could have imaginedâone that felt like it was only just beginning.
Taglist: @mihoonz, @toasty0703, @lplondynnwoo, @loxgirl2004
#skz#stray kids#stray kids fanfic#skz fanfic#stray kids x reader#jeongin skz#jeongin x reader#jeongin stray kids#jeongin#yang jeongin
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STUPID THING I MADE A WHILE BACK WHILE I WAS TESTING TOONSQUIDâŠIDEK
#PLS I WAS SO BORED#FOR THAT LOVELY PERSON THAT SENT ME AN ASK YOUR REQUEST IS ON ITS WAY!! <3#moon knight fanart#moon knight#moon knight animatic#khonshu#khonshu fanart#marc spector#marc spector fanart#steven grant#steven grant fanart#jake lockley#jake lockley fanart#moonymelly#my art
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we need shy freak I beggg, he ainât seen this comingđ
áŻâ
FREAK LIKE ME! â GOJO SATORU
SYNOPSIS...being the quiet girl sometimes has its perks and gojo satoru is in for a hell of a ride
INFO...gojo x fem!reader, quiet!reader, handjob, edging, kinda sub!gojo, dom!reader, establish relationship, reader reads smut/watches porn, overstim, not proofread
OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated
thanks for the request anon, I hope you enjoy!
Gojo Satoru was known for being the rich, handsome, popular kid who always had girls fawning over him everywhere he went. Heâd get any girl he want just by flashing a smile and before he knew it, theyâre panties dropped to the floor. College was fun when you were going out every other night, fucking this girl and that girl, because who cares? Surely not him. But one thing no one anticipated, not even Gojo himself, was getting a girlfriend who was quite literally the opposite of him. You were so adorable to him, different from the rest, too buried in your books and work to care about anything else going on.
Gojo noticed very quickly that you were the shy, quiet type. Everytime heâd try to kiss you, even compliment you, youâd turn away with a flustered look. âAwe, is my baby shy?â Heâd chuckle, kissing your cheek. It was something he wasnât used to at all, but he liked it.
Youâd bought a new dress from the mall and Gojo demanded that you show him, practically pleading on his hands and knees when you shrugged your shoulders. Eventually you gave you in, walking out from the bathroom, hands clasped together and head hung low. âDo you like it?â You quietly asked.
âLike it? Baby, I love it! Iâm resisting the temptation to just bend you over and fuck you right here!â His eyes widen in surprise. He chuckles at the way you turn your head away from him.
âToru! Donât say stuff like that! You scold him while hiding your face. Gojo thinks youâre the most innocent thing known to man, getting all shy over the smallest things. But what your clueless boyfriend didnât know is that you werenât some innocent, quiet girl who had zero clue about sex or intimacy in general. You watched porn, read smut, and fantasized about all the nasty things you wanted to do to your boyfriend.
It wasnât until one day you decided it was time to get over your fears and show your boyfriend what he was missing out on.
âBabyânnngh, ahâs-slow downâŠfuck!â His voiced cracked, head falling back into the crook of your neck as you pumped his cock from behind, his precum messily smearing over his length. âW-whereâmmphâdid this even come from?â He chuckled, hips stuttering when you squeezed the head of his cock tighter. His body slouched between your legs, chest heaving up and down. âYouâre gonna make me fucking cum already!â
You wickedly giggled in his ear and Gojo absolutely has no idea how to feel in this moment. Who were you and what did you do to his sweet girl? âYouâre leaking so much, Toru. Youâve been thinking about this, huh?â You darted your tongue out, licking a stripe on his skin. His entire body shuddered in your hold, eyes clenching shut when you ran your thumb over his throbbing red tip.
âYes, yes, Iâve been thinking about itâhah!â He nods his head, his nails digging into the plush of your thighs as you bring him on the brink of his orgasm before slowing down your movements. âNo, no, baby donât tease me like that!â He whines, bucking his hips into your hand.
âYouâre so needy! Does my pretty boy wanna cum?â You smirk against his skin, peppering small kisses from his jaw to his neck. He quickly nods his head, whimpering like a bitch in heat. Your hand firmly wraps around his throat and Gojo swears heâs sent to another planet. Where did you learn all this from? From who? From what? Itâs like you switched personalities. But he loves it, craves it even.
âOh my god,â he groans, eyes rolling back when you squeeze the base of his cock and slowly drag your hand up his shaft in circular motion. âPlease, please, please,â he begs. His cheeks flushed a baby pink while drool forms at the corner of his mouth.
âSuch a good boy, arenât you? Already begging to cum.â You began to pump your hand faster, his legs shaking and hips stuttering. You wrap your legs around his, restricting him from moving any more than he already is.
His abs tense up, body jolting while his lewd moans echo off the walls of your bedroom. âBaby, baby, Iâm gonnaâshit, shitâŠgonna cum,â he whimpers. His brows in a concentrated furrow, too focused on the way your hand is wrapped around his thick, veiny cock. âC-cumming,â heâs barely able to groan out, his entire body going limp when you squeeze his throat harder. Your mischievous giggles send the blood rushing straight to his dick and milliseconds later spurts of his cum shoot from his aching tip. âFuck, fuck, fuck!â His hips are shaking, globs of cum coating his abs and your hands, using it as lube.
âYouâre still cumming,â you chuckle, his hips writhing beneath you. Gojo has never came this hard in his life and his dick was still pulsating in your hand.
âS-so sensitive,â he cries out, gritting his teeth as tears form in the corner of his eyes. His breath hitches and he swears he could see stars in his vision.
âWant me to stop? Is it too much, baby?â Your sultry tone sends shivers down his spine. He shakes his head no, biting down on his bottom lip, a metallic taste filling his mouth. âThatâs what I thought.â
a/n: y/n is boughta make me bust and Iâm the one writing her lmaoo
taglist (comment to be added):
@valleydoli @zxnxy @screechingbasementprincess @lexluthorbutnotbald @lynxslokley @briyah0
#ââclassyrbf#anime#anime smut#jjk#jujustu kaisen#jjk x reader#jjk smut#gojo x reader#gojo x reader smut#gojo x you#gojo satoru x reader smut#gojo smut#gojo satoru smut#gojo satoru x reader#gojo oneshot#gojo smut oneshot#jjk x reader smut#jjk smut oneshot#gojo satoru#jjk gojo#gojo satoru x you
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"Hands in the hair of someone named marcus" | part ii
Marcus Acacius x f!reader
previous part
Summary: the cursed blood of Geta and Caracalla runs through your veins sealing your fate. However, General Acacius is willing to fight for you and you become his most important reason to live.
w.c: 6k.
Warnings: angst, smut (if you could call it that), power imbalance, violence, fluff.
a/n: Thank you so much for the love you gave to the first part of this one (I could cry). I literally loved General Acacius so much and he deserves better and all the flowers. With this part I don't know if a third one is necessary, so I hope you like it and enjoy it! Remember, reblogs and comments are always appreciated. Happy reading. đ
| dividers by @/saradika-graphics |
by the way, I'm working on some requests, I haven't forgotten about you. I'm just really busy. đ€âš
âYou make it sound so simple,â you murmured, your voice soft but laced with deep worry
Marcus smiled faintly, the corner of his lips lifting in a way that made your heart burst. âLove doesnât erase chaos, my lady,â he said, his tone carrying the weight of years spent in timeless battles. âBut it gives you something to dream ofâ
The peace you had found in Marcus words and presence, was fleeting as a storm passing by during a summer day. The soothing protections you felt under his stare was shattered the moment Geta and Caracalla noticed your absence.
Despite them not being as much loved as you by the people. Servantsâ loyalty fell on them and it was a matter of time for them to find the truth intentions behind the demeanor of the beloved General Acacius.
You barely had time to breathe before the heavy doors to the villa burst open, and there they were, Geta and Caracalla, flanked by their guards. Their faces were twisted with fury, their regal demeanor replaced by a feral madness that made your blood run cold.
There you were back the palace, locking gazes with the man your brothers had promised you to. And you barely had time to breathe before there was blood was dripping from the fallen gladiator who had been won the battle in the arena.
Yours felt in your ears, the rush, the bombing and the guilt.
Your hand was a fake prize for a foolish man dreaming of his freedom. Dreaming of belonging to the most powerful family of the empire.
You were speechless, so it was Acacius who stood by your side as a personal armored guard, swearing to protect you from the cruel madness your brothers had descended into.
"Do you think I do not love you, sister?" Geta asked, with a tone that sent shivers down your spine. "I wouldn't allow a man like that to marry you" he said referring to the now lifeless gladiator laying on the floor.
Geta walked closer to you, in a swift moment he raised his hand to caress your face, but before he could even reach your skin. Marcus stepped in front of you, defying the emperor
Geta froze, his hand lingering midair as Marcus placed himself between the two of you. The tension in the air was suffocating, the once-roaring crowd now silenced by the audacity of Marcusâs actions.
"Step aside, General," Geta hissed, his voice dripping with menace, though his expression betrayed a flicker of disbelief.
Marcus met his gaze with unflinching resolve. "With all due respect, Emperor, I will not."
Getaâs eyes narrowed, his nostrils flaring as he took a step closer, his face inches from Marcusâs. "You dare defy me?â
Marcus did not waver. "I swore an oath to serve Rome, and that includes its people. Your sister above all. She is not yours to intimidate, Emperor."
The crowd murmured in hushed tones, the audacity of the general spreading like wildfire among them. Caracalla rose from his seat, his expression one of cold calculation as he descended the steps toward the scene.
"Kill him," Caracalla shouted, his eyes burned with anger.
Geta ignored him, his focus locked solely on Marcus. "You think your rank protects you, General Acacius?â
Marcusâs jaw tightened, but he spoke with measured restraint. "I think my loyalty to Rome and its empire is unwavering. But I will not stand by and allow cruelty you bring to your sister.â
The words struck a nerve. Getaâs lips curled into a bitter smile as he finally dropped his hand, though his eyes never left Marcus. "Bold words, General," he said, stepping back. "Perhaps too bold for a man whose future depends on my goodwill."
He turned to the crowd, spreading his arms as if to dismiss the tension. "Let it be known," he declared, his voice echoing across the arena, "that my sister is under my protection. Any man who wishes to court her must prove his worth, not just to her, but to Rome."
His gaze flickered back to Marcus; his smile venomous. "Are you willing to stake your life on this, General? To face the arena in her name?"
Marcus did not hesitate. "I am."
The arena erupted in chaos, the crowd roaring with approval at the prospect of a new fight. Getaâs smile widened as he leaned closer to Marcus, his voice low enough for only the two of you to hear.
"Then prepare yourself, Acacius," he whispered. "Because I will make sure this fight is the hardest battle of your life."
He turned and strode away, Caracalla following closely behind. Marcus remained still, his shoulders rigid as the crowd cheered for the fight to come.
You reached out, your hand brushing his arm. "Marcus," you whispered, your voice trembling.
He turned to you, his expression softening for the briefest moment. "Do not fear, my lady," he said, his voice steady. "I will win. For you."
Your heart ached at the weight of his words, but before you could respond, he stepped away, his focus already on the battle ahead.
The days passed in agonizing silence, and ahead to the battle at the coliseum, you were confined to your quarters, guarded closely by your brotherâs guards. Two of the were stood just outside your door as a warning, even beyond all that, as a reminder of the power Geta and Caracalla held over you.
You hadnât had news of Marcus since the day you parted ways after he told your brothers he was going to fight for you at the Arena. The fear and worry consumed you, and even your own servants met with a soft indifference and dismissal. It was as if the world had conspired to separate you from the one person who had fought to protect you. You spent your days pacing the confines of your chamber, that now felt suffocating.
You imagined Marcus alone, preparing for the fight under the oppressive gaze of your brothers. Was he thinking of you? Did he share the same fear that gripped your heart? Or was he steadfast in his resolve, his mind fixed solely on the battle to come?Â
Would he have regretted it?
Not bearing the questions anymore, you got up from your bed determined to break your brothersâ orders and persuade the only desire fueling flames in your heart.
The moon hung low in the sky, its light spilling into your chambers as you slipped through the doorway, your heart pounding in your chest. The guards outside had been lured away with a clever diversion, and you moved quickly, draped in a simple cloak that hid your identity.
You held your breath, waiting, but the guards remained oblivious.
Wrapping a cloak tightly around your shoulders, you slipped into the corridor, moving swiftly but silently. The villa seemed to be a labyrinth of shadowy hallways.
The night air bit at your skin as you reached the courtyard. The sound of the guardsâ boots echoing in the distance urged you forward, and with grace, you mounted the horse, urging it into a gallop toward Marcusâs quarters at the edge of the city.
The journey was risky. The streets of Rome were alive even at this hour, the echoes of revelry and the whispers of the approaching battle filling the air. You kept your hood low, your heart racing with every shadow that moved.
Finally, you arrived at his villa. It was modest compared to the luxuriousness of the imperial palace, but it was guarded nonetheless. Two soldiers stood at the entrance, their posture rigid. You dismounted, your steps purposeful as you approached them.
âI need to see him,â you said, your voice firm despite the tremor of fear beneath it.
The guards exchanged a glance, their hesitation palpable once they noticed who you were. âThe general has ordered no visitors, my lady.â one of them said.
âI am not a visitor,â you countered, your voice rising slightly. âWill you stand in my way?â
They hesitated, but something in your tone made them step aside.
âIâll take you with himâ one of them offered.
You nodded. The guard gestured for you to follow, leading you through the dimly lit villa. You kept your hood low, your heart pounding in your chest. Every creak of the floorboards and every distant sound made your pulse quicken, but you refused to let fear deter you.
âThis way, my lady,â the guard whispered, stopping at the end of a long hallway. âHis quarters are just beyond this door.â
You nodded, slipping a small pouch of coins into his hand. âThank you,â you said softly.
He bowed his head. âI wish you both the best.â
As the guard retreated, you turned to the door. Your hand trembled as it hovered over the handle, the weight of the past days pressing heavily on your shoulders. You took a steadying breath and pushed the door open.
The room was warm, lit only by the glow of a hearth. Marcus sat at a sturdy wooden table, poring over a map with a furrowed brow. His armor was laid in the table beside him, the metal gleaming in the firelight. The sight of him dressed in a white tunic, so strong, made your chest tighten with longing.
The sound of the door closing behind you drew his attention. His head snapped up, and for a moment, his expression was unreadable. Then his features softened, his brow relaxing as recognition dawned.
âMy lady,â he said, rising to his feet. âWhat are you doing here?â
âI couldnât stay away,â you said, your voice thick with emotion as you stepped closer. âI had to see you.â
His gaze flickered to the door behind you, his shoulders tensing. âYou shouldnât have come. If your brothers-â
âI donât care what they think,â you interrupted, your voice trembling with resolve. âI needed to see you. To know youâre well.â
His expression softened, and he reached out, his hands settling on your shoulders. âYou took an enormous risk coming here. If they find out-â
âI donât care,â you interrupted, your hands gripping the front of his tunic. âI couldnât bear another moment without you. Tomorrow feels like a lifetime away from seeing you again.â
Marcusâs gaze darkened with an emotion you couldnât quite place, and his hands slid down your arms, pulling you closer. âYouâve always been braver than I deserve,â he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from your face. âBut you shouldnât have to be.â
He leaned down, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was both tender and desperate, as though he needed to memorize the feel of you. The weight of the world melted away in that moment, leaving only the two of you and the quiet hum of the night.
When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours. You were the closest thing he had to touch the moon that shine over you with his own hands, his heart felt at ease at the thought of you and now that he was looking directly at you, he felt alive and braver than ever.
âTomorrow, Iâll fight for you and for us,â he said, his voice resolute. âAnd Iâll win. I swear it.â
His words were a solemn vow, carrying the weight of his love and his unyielding strength of power. The warmth of his breath mingled with yours, and for a moment, the universe seemed to hold its breath, the stars outside aligning for the two of you.
âMarcus,â you whispered, âYouâre everything to me. I donât care about their rules or their power. All I care about is you.â
His lips curved into a faint smile; a softness rarely seen breaking through the stoicism that often cloaked him. âThen youâve already given me the strength I need,â he replied, his hands sliding from your arms to cradle your face. His thumbs brushed your cheeks, as if memorizing the feel of your skin beneath his calloused touch could save him from his duties and just sacred himself to serve and adore you.
âIâll return to you,â he said, the conviction in his tone leaving no room for doubt. âNo force in this world could keep me away.â
The sheer intensity of his gaze sent shivers through you, and you found yourself leaning into him, finding solace in his unwavering presence. âIâll be waiting,â you promised, capturing his lips in a desperate attempt to feel like he wouldn't die for you in the arena.
You didn't want to become the wife of a dead husband; you didn't want Marcus to die for you. You just wanted him and all the love he had to offer.
Marcus deepened the kiss, his hand pressing against the small of your back to hold you closer, as if he too feared the distance that tomorrow might bring. His other hand cradled your face with a gentleness that contrasted the ferocity of his actions. For a moment, time seemed to halt, the world outside fading into oblivion. It was just the two of you, locked in an embrace that spoke of love, desperation, and promises yet to be written.
âAcaciusâ you whispered, feeling the fire burning inside you.
Marcusâs name on your lips was a melody he never wanted to stop hearing. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes searching yours, his breath mingling with yours as though he couldnât bear even a whisper of space between you. The fire you felt inside was reflected in his gaze, a raw, unyielding passion, tempered by the tenderness of a man who loved you more than life itself.
"Say it again," he murmured, his voice low, rough, as if your words were the only thing grounding him.
âAcacius,â you repeated, your voice trembling at the feeling of his hands roaming all over your body as a delicate map of Roma itself, the same Acacius had sworn to serve and protect.
His hands traced your skin with reverence, as if he were mapping the contours of not just your body, but your very soul. Each touch was delicate, as though he were imprinting his essence into every inch of you, claiming you in the most intimate way possible.
"Your name," he breathed, his lips brushing against your ear, "is the only thing I need to hear. The only thing that matters." His voice was like a caress, both tender and desperate.
You closed your eyes, feeling the warmth of his breath on your neck, of his touch, the steady rhythm of his heart beneath your palm. âAnd I, you," you whispered back, your hands exploring the firm planes of his chest, his heart beating in sync with yours.
His actions hit a chord inside you that you didnât know existed. The weight of his promises and devotion, the depth of his feelings, was overwhelming. You leaned closer, wrapping your arms around him, needing to feel him against you, to feel that he was real.
"I need you, Marcus," you whispered, your lips grazing his jaw, trembling with the depth of your words. "I need you to come back to me. Please, donât let anything happen to you."
He pulled you into him, his hands framing your face as he kissed you, slowly, deeply, pouring all of his promises into the kiss. "I swear it," he breathed against your lips, his hands sliding down your body, his touch fierce with resolve. "I will come back. No matter what. I swear it on the gods and on my heart."
With those words, he kissed you again, and in that kiss, you could taste the sweet desperation, the love, the unspoken promises. And as the world outside faded away, you knew that nothing would ever be the same again. He was yours, and you were his. And nothing, not even fate itself, could break that bond.
âLay on the bedâ he ordered, softly. Still caressing your jaw and neck with the touch of his lips on you.
Under the spell he seemed to have you under, you obeyed him, lying down carefully on his bed, not breaking the gaze between the two of you. He came towards you, with a look that seemed to burn you, but with love and adoration, to which you could give yourself without thinking of the consequences.
With his body over yours, he kept looking down at you as if you were the greatest treasure in this empire. His lips drew maps over you, on your cheeks, on your lips, on your neck. When his hands rested on your breasts, it felt like the air in your lungs didn't know where to go. The feeling was something you hadn't experienced, but you wanted to dive into it.
His fingers worked with your dress, leaving you completely bare under his stare. You turned your head to the side, embarrassed to be seen this way, but he with his fingers held your jaw, delicately.
âYouâre the most beautiful woman, my ladyâ he whispered, kissing your lips, as his hands returned to your breasts, eliciting whimpers from your mouth.
His lips began to move down from your lips to your chest, planting kisses on where your heart was beating rapidly for him and the love you felt. Then, he delicately grabbed one of your nipples with his mouth, savoring the way your body reacted under his actions, your back arched for him, and his hands caressed your waist, trying to hold you in place.
Under him, under his actions, but not under his possession.
âAcaciusâ you moaned, softly. The way he was making you feel was something foreign to you, something you thought you would never feel.
His hand travelled up to your lips, his thumb tracing delicate patterns on your lips, as you kiss it with the same intention despite the fire burning inside you, your mind felt void and your body felt limb under Marcus orders.
With his hand on your lips, his detached from your breast, planting kisses down, leaving a hot patch down until he reached your stomach.
âGodâŠâ you whispered faintly.
His hands intertwined yours in attempt to hold you, as he kept kissing down your stomach, going even lower, until you could feel his breath where you needed him the most.
"I want to give you all I have," Marcus whispered, âBut tonight I cannot.â
Before you could even respond, you felt his lips on your thighs, soft and delicate working up on you. Your breathing seemed to catch, until he reached the place where you needed him most.
Releasing a long sigh, your body seemed to gave up to him âAcaius...yes, just there.â you murmured faintly.
His lips seemed to know every part of you and nothing ever felt as good as it felt now. Your back arched as his mouth seemed to be taking you to the stars. In every kiss, in every touch, in every foreign sensation that was becoming familiar.
Acacius was starved, hungry for you. âYou taste like heaven, my ladyâ he murmured.
Your hands let go of his, reaching up to his curls, bringing him even more impossibly close. You could feel his breath on you and how his tongue worked to please you.
Before you could even cry out, he detached his lips from your cunt, grabbing your mouth with his fiercely. His hands roamed over you, pulling you closer to him, as if he couldnât get enough. Your legs instinctively crossed around his middle, anchoring him to you, and for a moment, the world outside seemed so distant, so unimportant. It was just the two of you, entwined in a way that made everything else fade away.
His lips left yours for a moment, trailing soft kisses down your neck as he whispered sweet things to you, his voice hushed and filled with the kind of devotion that left your heart racing.
âIâm sorry my lady, I shouldnât have- â
âIâm yours,â you interrupted, locking your gaze with his.
His eyes softened as he gazed down at you, his hands now resting gently on your waist.
âAnd Iâm yoursâ he murmured against your skin, his breath warm against the delicate curve of your neck. âEvery part of me, every breath, belongs to you.â
âI want thisâ you reassured.
âAnd I do want this too, my lady. But after I win, after I marry you. I will take you with no fear inside me.â He replied. There was no need for more words; everything had already been said. The love, the longing, the passion was there.
With a final kiss, Marcus slowly pulled away, his forehead resting against yours once more. "I'll be back for you," he whispered, his voice heavy with emotion. "I swear it."
And you, holding him in your arms, closed your eyes, trusting him, knowing that no matter what, you would always find your way back to each other.
You gazed into Marcusâs eyes, your heart still racing from the intensity of the moment, but his words pulled you back to reality. There was no escaping what tomorrow would bring.
"Rest?" you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "How can I, knowing what you're about to face?"
Marcus smiled, his expression softening with a warmth that made your heart swell. âBecause, my lady, you need your strength for the days ahead. And because I promised you I would return.â He gently brushed a strand of hair away from your face, his fingers lingering for a moment longer than necessary. "Sleep, knowing that I am fighting for you. For us."
Your throat tightened as you nodded, unwilling to argue any longer. You needed to let him go, if only for a short while. You kissed him one last time, a lingering promise between you both, before pulling away reluctantly.
"I'll be waiting for you," you said, your voice steady despite the storm inside your chest. "I know you'll win.â
With a final, lingering look, Marcus kissed your lips for the last time. âGo back to the palace before they find out you are gone.â
You nodded, your heart heavy with the weight of his words. The reality of the situation hit you all at onceâtomorrow would change everything. Marcusâs life hung in the balance, and there was nothing you could do but wait and trust in him.
âIâll go back,â you whispered, pulling away from his embrace reluctantly. The cold air of the room seemed to hit you all at once, and the walls felt smaller, enclosing around you as you stepped away.
Reluctantly, you turned to leave. The door closed behind you with a quiet click, and the silence that followed felt like a weight pressing down on you. Every step away from him was a struggle, but you had to return to your brothers' watchful eyes, to the prison of the palace where they kept you safe, yes, but at what cost?
The night felt endless as you made your way back, every sound magnified in the stillness. You slipped inside your quarters, the shadows of the room wrapping around you like a cloak.
The dawn arrived far too quickly, casting a pale light through the narrow windows of your room. The silence of the early morning felt suffocating, the weight of the coming day settling over you like a thick fog. You lay still, eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling, unable to summon the strength to rise.
What if he doesn't make it out alive?
The day of the fight arrived, the arena packed with eager spectators. The air buzzed with excitement and bloodlust as the crowd roared for their favorite gladiators. You sat in the imperial box, your heart pounding in your chest as you watched Marcus step into the arena, his armor gleaming in the midday sun.
He looked up at you, his gaze steady and unwavering. For a moment, it was as if the crowd didnât exist, as if the two of you were the only ones in the world.
Geta leaned toward you, a wicked grin on his face. âEnjoy the show, dear sister. It may be the last time you see him standing.â
You ignored him, your eyes fixed on Marcus as the gates to the arena opened, and his opponents emerged.
Two gladiators, seasoned and ruthless, stalked toward him, their weapons glinting menacingly. The crowd erupted in cheers, their voices deafening as the fight began.
Geta's smug expression faltered as the fight progressed. Caracalla leaned forward, his lips pressed into a thin line. They had underestimated Marcus. He wasnât just their general; he was a force of nature, unrelenting and unyielding.
Your heart raced with every clash of swords, every grunt of exertion. When one opponent fell, another rose to take his place. It was as though they were testing Marcus, pushing him to his limits, but he didnât falter.
A particularly vicious challenger came at him with a spear, forcing Marcus to dodge and roll. The crowd gasped, and your breath caught in your throat as the blade skimmed his armor, drawing a shallow line of blood.
âDo you see how much he bleeds for you, sister?â Getaâs voice was low, meant only for you to hear.
You didnât answer, your eyes glued to Marcus. His movements slowed for a brief moment as he wiped the sweat and blood from his brow, but when he straightened, his resolve burned brighter than ever. He caught your gaze, and in that instant, it was as if the rest of the arena disappeared.
He fought for you, for the life you both longed for.
The final opponent stepped forward, a hulking brute armed with a massive sword. The crowd fell into a hushed silence, the tension thick in the air.
âCome on, Acacius,â you whispered under your breath, gripping the fabric of your gown so tightly your knuckles turned white.
The battle was brutal, each strike echoing through the arena like a drumbeat. Marcus moved with precision and strategy, using his smaller size and quicker reflexes to outmaneuver his opponent. The fight dragged on, the bruteâs strength clashing against Marcusâs endurance.
Then, with a burst of speed, Marcus ducked under a wide swing and plunged his sword into the manâs side. The brute fell to his knees, and the crowd erupted in deafening cheers.
Marcus stood over his fallen opponent, his chest heaving, his armor streaked with blood. The herald stepped forward, announcing his victory to the roaring masses.
Geta scowled, his hand tightening around the armrest of his throne. âSo, he wins,â he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.
Marcus turned to face the royal dais; his sword lowered but his gaze unwavering. âEmperor Geta, Emperor Caracallaâ he called out, his voice carrying across the arena. âI have won this fight, as promised. Now I claim my prize, your sister as my wife.â
The crowd fell silent, awaiting Getaâs response. He rose from his seat, his face a mask of reluctant acceptance. âVery well, General Acacius,â he said, his tone clipped. âYou have proven your worth. Take her.â
The silence that followed Geta's words felt like an eternity, heavy with the weight of what had just been declared. The air was thick with anticipation, and every eye in the Colosseum seemed to be on you. You stood there, still in the royal box, your heart pounding against your ribs as the realization hit you. Marcus had won, but the price was not just his life, it was your freedom.
Freedom was wherever he was.
You had been raised to understand the weight of loyalty, of duty, of family. But the fire that had burned between you and Marcus, the undeniable connection, had created a chasm between you and your brothersâ demands.
With each step Marcus took toward you, you could feel the eyes of the crowd on you, the pressure mounting as Getaâs scowl deepened.
âDonât make me regret this, General Acacius.â Geta sneered as Marcus reached the steps, his voice laced with venom.
âI will not,â Marcus replied, his voice low. He climbed the steps of the royal box, his eyes never leaving you. When he reached you, he extended a hand toward you, strong and yet gentle, as if offering you not just a way out, but a promise of something more.
âCome with me, my lady.â he said softly, his voice breaking through the tumultuous emotions swirling inside you.
You hesitated for a moment, looking between your brothers and Marcus. Caracallaâs gaze was colder than ever, while Getaâs expression was twisted with frustration. It was clear neither of them had wanted this outcome. But they had given their approval, and now, there was nothing left for you but to make your choice.
Without a word, you placed your hand in Marcusâs. His grip was firm and reassuring as he helped you down from the royal box and onto the arena floor. The crowd erupted into cheers, their admiration for the general evident, but all you could hear was the steady beat of your heart.
âI do,â you whispered, the weight of everything, your family, your duty, your past, melting away under the intensity of his gaze.
âDo you truly wish to be mine, my lady?â Marcus asked, his voice a mix of challenge and tenderness as he gazed down at you, his hand still holding yours.
The days following the battle were a whirlwind of preparations, but not the kind you had ever imagined. While the Colosseum was still abuzz with the echoes of Marcusâs victory, the grand celebration your brothers had envisioned was coming. Servants ran through the villa, gathering flowers, arranging fine fabrics, and preparing for the grand ceremony that would take place the following day. But amidst all the anticipation, Marcus had quietly arranged something more personal, a moment just for the two of you, away from the expectations, away from the people, and away from the watchful eyes of the world.
A ceremony where only the two of you would be able to be part of.
No witnesses, but only the eyes of God.
The morning sunlight poured into the room, illuminating the soft hues of your garments as the servants busied themselves around you, adjusting folds and fastening clasps. You stood still, gazing out the window as they worked, your thoughts swirling between the ceremony last night and the new reality of soon-to-be Marcusâs wife.
The quiet hum of their chatter stopped abruptly, drawing your attention to the doorway. Marcus stepped in, his eyes locking onto yours with a look that seemed to quiet everything around you. He was dressed simply, not in the regal finery expected of a groom, but in a dark tunic that spoke more to his strength than his status.
His presence commanding yet calm. The servants turned to greet him, bowing their heads respectfully.
âMay I have a moment with my lady?â he asked, his voice steady but kind.
The servants exchanged glances, then nodded, bowing their heads again before retreating from the room. As the door closed behind them, Marcus crossed the space to you, his steps unhurried.
âYou seem a vision of grace this morning,â he murmured, his eyes taking in the sight of you.
You turned to face him, a faint smile tugging at your lips. âYou flatter me, my general.â
His hand reached out, fingers brushing against the fabric of your dress. âIt seems they left a task unfinished,â he said softly, gesturing to the loose lace at the back of your gown.
Before you could respond, Marcus stepped behind you, his hands deftly taking the lace and beginning to knot it. His touch was gentle, yet firm, the brush of his knuckles against your back sending shivers down your spine.
âThere,â he said, his voice lower now, almost a whisper. âPerfect.â
His hands lingered for a moment before he leaned forward, pressing a tender kiss to your shoulder, where the silk of your dress met your skin. The warmth of his lips lingered, leaving your heart pounding.
âYouâre beautiful,â he murmured against your skin, his breath sending a thrill through you.
You turned slightly, your gaze meeting his. âMarcusâŠâ you started, but the words seemed to fail you.
He straightened, his expression softening as he cupped your cheek with one hand. "Are you ready?" He asked gently.
You nodded, though your heart beat faster at the thought of what he had planned. âWhat are we doing?â you asked, curiosity stirring within you.
With a smile, Marcus held out his hand, the familiar strength and tenderness in his grip making your heart swell. "Come with me," he said softly, leading you out of the room and down the hallway, away from the bustle of servants and preparations.
You followed him through the villaâs quiet halls, your feet barely making a sound on the marble floors. Finally, you reached the private garden at the rear of the villa, a secluded spot surrounded by towering columns and vines heavy with flowers. The air here was cooler, calmer, and the scent of blooming jasmine filled the air.
This was where he had chosen to steal a moment for the two of you, where there would be no prying eyes, no expectations, just you and him.
"Acacius, what are we doing here?" you asked, your voice filled with wonder.
He turned to face you, his eyes shining with something deeper than just love, a sense of peace, perhaps, or gratitude. âBefore we stand in front of everyone tomorrow, I wanted to share this moment with you.â he said, his tone low and sincere.
He reached for your hand, gently pulling you towards him. âThis is our wedding, our vows,â he continued, his words soft but filled with unwavering emotion. âI donât need the crowds to tell me Iâm making the right choice. I just need you.â
A tear welled up in your eye at his words, the depth of his love and devotion overwhelming you. Marcus cupped your face with his hands, the touch warm and grounding.
âI know we canât avoid the grand ceremony tomorrow,â he said, his voice tinged with regret. âBut here, in this moment, with no one else around, I want to give you all of me. You are my heart, and I want to vow myself to you, not in front of an emperor, not before the masses, but just to you.â
With his words, Marcus dropped to one knee, the powerful general you had come to admire now humbled by love and sincerity. "I stand before you today, not as a general, not as a man of Rome, but as a man who has found his purpose in you. You are my courage, my calm, and my reason to fight for something beyond duty. I vow to protect you with my life, to honor you with my actions, and to cherish you with every breath I take. Whatever battles may come, I will face them with you by my side. From this day forward, my heart belongs to you, and you alone."
"I..." you whispered, your voice trembling as you stepped closer, your hands trembling as they reached for him. You cupped his face in your hands, your eyes searching his for any trace of doubt. But there was none. There was only a quiet strength that matched your own, a promise you could hold onto for a lifetime.
"Acacius," you breathed, and this time, it was your turn to drop to your knees before him, your heart too full to be contained. You touched his face gently, as though afraid the moment might shatter if you touched him too hard.
"I vow to you as well," you said, your voice gaining strength with each word, your heart swelling with an emotion that could no longer be contained. "I vow to stand by your side, no matter what comes. I will be your strength when you need it, your peace when the world feels too heavy. I will love you beyond all else, in every way, in every moment. You are my heart as much as I am yours, Marcus. And I will spend every day proving it to you."
Marcus took your hands in his, his thumb brushing across your skin in a gesture so simple, so intimate, that it felt like a promise in itself. "You are everything to me," he whispered. "And from now on, your protection is my biggest battle to fight.
#marcus acacias x reader#marcus acacius fanfiction#marcus acacius x f!reader#marcus acacius x you#marcus acacius x reader#general marcus acacius#marcus acacius fic#marcus acacius#gladiator 2 fic#gladiator 2#gladiator 2 fanfiction#pedro pascal#marcus acacius smut#general acacius x you#general acacius
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Love Bites (NSFW)
See Me Through You Blurb
Synopsis: You bite your husband out of affection that leads to something else
Pairing: Husband!Joe Burrow x Wife!Reader
Requested by a gorgeous anon đ
Series Masterlist
Do not engage if you are underage
Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere
âDid⊠babyâŠ. Did you just bite me?â Joe asked as he glanced over at you noticing that you had now moved your position and was laying your head on his shoulder.
After you had bitten it of course.
âNo.â
âThen what did I just feel on my shoulder? You know⊠the one that you're laying on?â
âI don't know. Beats me.â You replied as Joe was still eyeing you.
âI don't believe you.â He told you as he turned back to the movie that was playing on the television.
âOkay? And what am I supposed to do with that information?â You asked him as you picked your head up to slowly bite down once more. This time on his upper arm.
âBABY!â
âI can't help it! You look so biteable today! Well everyday but I have to stop myself because I would literally bite you for hours. I watched your presser and went FERAL.â
âYou literally go feral from the moment you open your eyes. And is that why you sent me a text calling me a whore?â
âSays the person who got me pregnant. And yes those are MY ARMS not anyone else's!â You told him as you softly bit down again except this time leaving a kiss on the same spot in your path.
Joe didn't say anything in response except slip his tank top over his head and throw it across the room as he eyed you.
âGet over here and sit on my lap.â
âOh?â
âAre you going to continue to stare at me or do what I told you?â Joe asked as you felt a light smack to your ass since your body was already slightly turned towards him.
He didn't even bother waiting for you to move before he literally pulled you onto his lap.
Several kisses were placed on your lips as he reached underneath the t-shirt that you were wearing and started to play with the waistband of your thong.
To give him easier access, the t-shirt was pulled over your head and added to the pile that Joe had originally started. Seeing you weren't wearing a bra, Joe smirked and began to place kisses on both of them, but before he did, little bites were placed on your sensitive skin first.
The wetness between your thighs began to increase and you knew on days like this that you needed for your husband to give you his undivided attention.
Joe's mouth found its way back to yours as your thong was pulled to the side and his fingers started to lightly graze across your folds making you moan as one of his fingers was placed inside.
He wasted no time in breaking the kiss and telling you to stand up so that he could get rid of the rest of his clothes along with the last piece of clothing that was covering you.
As he put you back in your original spot on his lap, your arms wrapped around his neck as you slowly eased your way down making a moan escape from both of your mouths.
When you got into a comfortable pace and began to ride him, Joe took this opportunity to leave small bites accompanied with kisses all across your body where he could reach.
âMmm, baby.â You breathed out as you threw your head back in pleasure and Joe held onto your hips tighter.
He then placed one of your nipples in his mouth and bit down lightly before he began to suck on it making the moans escaping from your lips grow louder.
âShiiiit.â
âYou better ride me and act like you want it. How bad do you want to cum, baby?â Joe whispered in your ear and your only response was riding him faster.
âThat's what I fucking thought.â He told you as you felt another light smack to your ass.
Joe could tell you were tiring out and decided to help you from underneath. After a while his movements became sloppy and both of you hit your peak at the same time.
Your arms were still wrapped around Joe's neck as you were trying to catch your breath and moved to rest your head on his shoulder.
As he was rubbing small circles along your back, you lifted your head to kiss him, but as you did, you also bit down at the same time and could feel Joe smirk as you continued to kiss him.
âIf this is the result of me biting you, I need to do it more often.â
âBe careful what you wish for, baby. Now lay down because I'm nowhere near done with you.â
#joe burrow#joe burrow smut#joe burrow fanfiction#joe burrow fanfic#joe shiesty#nfl imagine#cincinnati bengals#joe burrow x reader#joe burrow x black reader#joe burrow imagine
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ik you just wrote for Kurt but if I could request some sfw headcanons for him? đđœđđœ he'd be such a cuddly man especially with that tail of his
Sfw! Nightcrawler/GN!Reader
YES OFC!!! I was just thinking about this !! With how cuddly he was in the latest episode it had me all giddy and shit AAUGHH!! THIS MAN!!!
I also may or may not have gotten carried away with the fic half of this because I'm actually in love with him.
-Ps- @bl1ngringz You sent an ask for more Kurt, and I'm working on more but I figured I'd tag you in this one!
TWs: none that I can think of atm.
Touch is 100% one of Kurtâs love languages. If you're close to him, he's going to be touching you in one way or another
He really likes to wrap his tail around your waist to pull you closer to him, and it's always surprising because how is his tail that strong?? The sensation of his tail being wrapped around you in one shape or form starts to become such a comforting sensation.
If you're anxious and picking and your fingers in a social situation, he'll take hold of your hand and press a kiss to your palm, and if you're less comfortable with pda, he'll snake his tail in between your hands instead. Afterwards he always checks your hands and cuticles, just in case.
Sometimes he'll have really rough days and will just really need you to hold him. He'll teleport you out of your office if he feels like you've been gone too long and he starts to worry about you. It's surprising at first, but you quickly get over it when the furball snuggles into you, quietly pouting about how long you've been gone. It's easy to tell other things are on his mind, but you know he enjoys the silence when you choose not to press him, and simply hold him tightly.
Kurt isn't just a cuddle bug. He's a cuddle MONSTER. On the couch? He'll plop down on top of you, falling asleep on you like a cat who only ever manages to fall asleep right when you need to pee. In bed? Again, no pee breaks. He usually has such a tight grip on you, only able to fall asleep buried in your arms. It doesn't matter how hot it is, if you roll away he'll feel bad. He knows you don't hate him and that you're just moving in your sleep but :( come back. He can't sleep without you!
You wouldnât consider yourself a morning person, but sometimes youâd wake up and simply be too restless to fall back asleep. Sometimes it was anxiety, other times excitement, but today you woke up simply content. Kurtâs arms were wrapped around you loosely, which was a surprise. Heâs normally fully wrapped around you, limbs tangled tightly with your own, tail wound around your wrist, ankle, or hand in his sleep. You smile as you turn around, brushing hair out of his face. He doesnât even stir, nor lean into the warmth of your hand. Youâd be freaking out if it werenât for his steady breathing, but the two of you had a rough couple of days. If heâs sleeping this deeply, he deserves the rest.
Itâs easy to slide out of his arms, quietly padding out of the bedroom barefooted. You flinch when you reach the cold wood floors of the hallway, early spring still inconsistent with its bouts of cold weather. After quietly closing the door, you make your way to the living room on the search for a pair of slippers. You had a bad habit of losing them, sometimes stealing Kurtâs instead, but you find yours set aside neatly. You smile as you slip them on, knowing that you most certainly werenât the one who put them there.
Itâs still dark outside when you start to preheat the oven, and you know you must be up way too early. You laugh a little, with how early Kurt tends to rise, you can only imagine the time. You glance at the oven clock and notice itâs a little after 5 am. You grimace just a little, deciding to ignore it for now. Might as well make breakfast.
You feel like youâve forgotten how to make breakfast food. Kurt always manages to beat you to it, waking you up in the morning with the smell of coffee and baked goods. You used to feel bad about it, telling him that he didnât have to. That he didnât have to go through with the effort. You felt guilty about such a simple thing, feeling like an inconvenience to him. That feeling didnât last long, however. Kurt had insisted that you were worth the effort, worth his love, and much more. You donât fight him on it anymore, having taken over lunch preparations instead. He still tries to beat you to that too, though. Itâs become a competition as of late, and you smile in a giddy manner, excited to see his pout when he realizes you managed to beat him to breakfast.
    The sun has risen by the time youâve finished the biscuits and set them out to cool. Youâre scrambling some eggs when a tail wraps around your waist and a warm chest presses against your back. Kurt nuzzles into your shoulder, pressing a chaste kiss to the skin.Â
    âGuten morgen.â His morning voice is groggy, and to be honest, he sounds like heâs about to fall back asleep right here in the kitchen, holding onto you like a pillow.
âGood morning,â You giggle, turning your head to kiss him sweetly. Heâs pouting when you pull away, leaning his cheek on your shoulder.
âYou werenât in bed when I woke up.â Kurt mopes. You mimic his pout with a poorly hidden smile, kissing him a few more times. They were chaste, as you didn't want to get distracted and burn the eggs.
âIâm sorry. I couldnât sleep, and I didn't want to wake you up.â You turn your attention back to the eggs in the pan, and Kurt sighs dramatically at your words, beginning to smile a bit himself. You see an arm sneakily reach over to take the spatula out of your hands, but youâre quick to hold it away from him. He smiles widely when heâs caught, pulling you flush to his chest as he tries to snatch it again with his other hand.
âNo!â You giggle. âKurt, stop it! Iâm not letting you finish the eggs!â You may have the willpower to keep the spatula away, but Kurt still has the upper hand with longer arms and an extra limb. His laughs are infectious and he fights you for the utensil.
âPenance, then! For leaving me in a cold bed, I could have gotten sick, you know?â You gasp as Kurt manages to slip the spatula from your grasp. He rejoices in victory, holding it above your head as he turns back to the eggs. He kisses you on the cheek, holding you squarely in his grasp as he finishes breakfast for you, as he always does.
Today was a good morning indeed.
#x men 97#x men#x men comics#x men 97 x reader#x men headcannons#nightcrawler x reader#nightcrawler#nightcrawler Headcannons#kurt wagner x reader#kurt wagner#kurt wagner headcannons
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Reader and Luigi basically being the old married couple of the group. A newcomer finds out that they arenât actually together and it feels like breaking news because itâs basically assumed by most that theyâre together. Maybe it isnât until one of them starts getting actively pursued by someone else when it starts clicking why it makes them uncomfortable at the idea. Trying to leave this open ended for you.
The Jesterâs Fucking the King â {Luigi x Reader }
Content: Iâm gonna call this one NSFWâ MDNI, friends to lovers, confusing feelings, Luigi has a physical touch fixation, youâre his fidget toy, fr tho, emotional manipulation lowkey, just a pinch (if you squint) of dirty talk, kinda love triangle
Wc: 3,458
Notes: yourself and Luigi have been Inseparable for six years, and the introduction of a new friend into the group throws a wrench into everything.
Before we start, I wanna make a quick note about the title, and where the hell it came from (lol). I was inspired by a tumblr post I came across awhile ago, and it stuck with me, I guess, because I randomly thought of it while I was writing this. Thatâs all. Enjoy xo
I took this and ran with it.
As usual.
"Who's this guy that she's bringing again?" you ask to the car at large, slumped in the backseat between your roommate Scarlett and the window. Your thumb swipes across your phone screen, watching Chloeâs location dot inch its way across the map while Luigi maneuvers through traffic and Ben fidgets with the radio from the passenger seat.
"I dunno, some guy she met in her new sculpture class this semester," Luigi mumbles through a barely-concealed grimace. The thought of adding another person to their carefully balanced social ecosystem clearly weighs on him. You know he's already mentally rehearsing his nice to meet you smile, the kind that takes more energy than he's willing to spend on a random Tuesday night.
"It'd better not be that kid Cole," you mutter, already dreading the possibility.
And because the universe has a cruel sense of humor, it was absolutely, undeniably, that kid Cole.
It hardly mattered what preconceived notions youâd had about him; they dissolved over time as Chloe started bringing him around more often.
The traits you once found annoying gradually morphed into something oddly endearing.
Still, he never quite seemed to understand the dynamic between you and Luigi.
On movie nights, when the six of you crammed into the living room, a messy sprawl of friends and blankets overtaking the couch and floor, you naturally claimed your usual spot; sprawled out across Luigiâs lap. Tonight was no different. You laid there with your back propped against the arm of the couch, scrolling through Instagram while your bottom half stretched longways over him, as if his lap had always been yours to occupy.
Every so often, youâd interrupt the movie to show him a meme or a video a mutual friend had sent. Youâd lean in close, shoulders brushing, stifling your laughter together so as not to disturb the others watching John Wick. âThatâs fucked up,â he muttered through a barely-contained chuckle, his eyes still on your phone screen.
Madison lives at home, her daily subway commute to campus a small price to pay for access to her parents' sprawling estate. Their backyard is a mediterranean dream, with a pool large enough to host the entire group of misfits, with room to spare.
You're draped over Luigi as he meanders around the pool's edge, both arms curved naturally around your waist beneath the waster. It's the kind of casual intimacy that comes from years of friendship, comfortable and worn-in. "Cole's actually pretty cool," he muses, tilting his head back expectantly.
You comply with the wordless request, holding the La Croix to his lips so he doesn't have to lift his hands from the water.
"Yeah," you agree, your eyes drifting across the pool to where Cole is pretending not to watch this whole exchange. His gaze darts away the moment yours meets his, like a kid caught stealing. "I really did think he was annoying at first, though."
Scarlettâs birthday party, your arms wrapped around Luigiâs waist, your head tucked beneath his arm as you swayed together and sang happy birthday. The whine as you shared a piece of cake, something about how âLuigi wonât even kiss me in public.â When someone said the two of you would have won prom king and queen if you went to the same high school.
Benâs party followed just weeks later, the night still young and champagne bubbling through your veins. Luigi's hand clamped desperately over your mouth, but your eyes danced with mischief as you nodded enthusiastically at the circle gathered around you. "Yeah, Lu's got a PhD," you managed to say, and before he could stop you, the words tumbled out against his palm: "A pretty huge dick."
Cole watched.
"Did you know Cassie is seeing Dylan?" Cole asked, matching your frantic pace across campus. The morning fog swallowed your mumbled recitations as you mentally rehearsed your presentation for the hundredth time.
"Yeah, Cole, and I'm fucking Luigi.â you scoffed, the sarcasm dripping over every word like sticky molasses as you rolled your eyes. You yanked open the auditorium doors, disappearing behind them without a backward glance, mind already racing ahead to bullet points and transitions.
The very idea that Cole would believe such obvious campus gossip had you shaking your head as you slid into your seat.
But he did believe it.
He stood frozen in the hallway you'd left him in, staring at the closed doors like they might offer some explanation. "Yeah? I know.â he mumbled to your ghost, the words settling confused and heavy in the empty corridor.
The absolute certainty in his voice would have made you laugh, if you'd been there to hear it.
The seasons had shifted, and with them, Cole's hope had quietly ebbed away. After months of watching you, he'd finally accepted what everyone else seemed to know instinctively â even if Luigi wasn't in the picture, you were simply out of reach.
Saturday night found your usual crew at your claimed table in Madisonâs backyard, the surface cluttered with emptied drinks and scattered Uno cards. Luigi absently twisted the rings on your fingers â a mindless habit he'd developed somewhere between freshman year and now â while chaos erupted around you.
The familiar symphony of shouted accusations about who was hiding the Draw Four cards mixed with the glow of phones being passed around, TikToks and screenshots sparking new waves of laughter.
Cole watched the way Luigi's fingers danced over yours, and for the first time, the sight didn't sting quite so much.
âI still can't believe Dylan and Cassie are dating," Cole mused through a cloud of smoke, beer bottle dangling precariously from his left hand while a joint was stuffed between the fingers on his right.
The table fell silent, five pairs of eyes fixing on him with varying degrees of confusion and amusement.
"Who told you that?" Scarlett's voice cut through the stunned silence and the resurrection of a dead and gone campus rumor, her phone screen illuminating her face as Dylan's name flashed across it. "Where did you even hear that?"
Cole's eyes pinballed around the table, finally landing on you and Luigi.
Your hand was caught in one of Luigi's absent-minded gestures, knuckles pressed against his lips while he listened â a habit so commonplace to everyone else that they'd stopped noticing years ago. "Uhâ waitâ" Cole fumbled, taking a desperate pull from the joint as if the answer might be hiding in the smoke. He passed it to his left and asked through a cough, "Are they not?"
âNo, you idiot.â Scarlett threw a lighter at him, which he narrowly dodged.
"Well- why did- âCole's words stumbled over each other as he locked eyes with you across the table. Your brows knitted together, genuinely bewildered by his desperation. "I- you said they were," he insisted, hand gesturing vaguely in your direction like a drowning man reaching for a life raft.
Scarlett's head whipped toward you so fast her earrings clinked, a new lighter in her hand that was suddenly transformed into a weapon of interrogation, the flame pointed in your direction. "You what?"
"I didn't say that!" Your hands flew up defensively, face flushing as you ransacked your memory for any conversation that could've led to this moment.
But your mind offered nothing but static.
"I asked you if you could believe they were- and-âCole gestured helplessly at Luigi, who was studying your profile with the intense focus of someone who'd stopped processing verbal language three hits ago. His fingers hadn't stopped their absent dance with your rings once you lowered your hands again from your surrender to Scarlettâs mercy, muscle memory outlasting coherent thought.
Cole felt like he'd stumbled into an alternate dimension where everyone spoke a language he'd never learned while those same pairs of eyes dissected him with the kind of judgment only drunk twenty-somethings could muster, making him feel about two inches tall. "And you said 'yeah, and I'm fucking Luigi,'" he defended weakly, the words sounding more ridiculous with each passing second.
"Yeah!" You practically launched across the table, laughter threatening to bubble over as understanding finally dawned. "Because I'm not!" The force of your declaration nearly knocked over someone's beer, but you were too busy watching Cole's face transform as the shoe finally, finally dropped.
Luigi, for his part, just kept twisting your rings, lost somewhere between the fourth dimension and your knuckles.
Cole's jaw went slack, his eyes darting around the table again where this time everyone had suddenly developed an acute interest in hiding their smirks behind their hands â a masterclass in delayed politeness. "What?" He practically shoved the joint away when it circled back, as if too-late sobriety might make this make more sense. "But- but the dick size jokes and- and you tell everyone he won't kiss you in public."
"Oh, you poor thing." Chloe dabbed at her eyes, tears of mirth threatening to ruin her mascara. "She's always done that shit." The words came out half-strangled by suppressed laughter.
Months passed, and Cole transformed into your personal guardian angel. One desperate NEED SUGAR NOW OR DEATH text to the group chat, and he'd materialize with your favorite convenience store candy before anyone else had even read the message.
He collected details about you: the way your nose scrunched at certain perfumes, how you could quote every line from that one movie, the specific shade of purple that made your eyes light up. When he finally told you he liked you â really liked you, more than he'd ever liked anyone â you said you liked him too.
The gravitational shift was subtle at first â like planets realigning. Your usual perch in Luigi's lap gradually migrated to the chair beside Cole, a transition so natural that few noticed, not even you.
It came to a head one Saturday when Luigi texted his absence from movie night, claiming a sudden illness.
The excuse was paper-thin, and you both knew it.
You stood outside his building, jabbing the buzzer with the familiarity of someone who'd done this a thousand times before. "I know you're not sick, Luigi." Your voice crackled through the intercom, bouncing off the walls of his apartment where he lay curled into himself on the sofa, rigid as rigor mortis. "I can see your Oura ring stats." The betrayal of technology made him groan, and the offending ring went sailing across the room, a tiny meteor of exposed lies.
His father knows the developer.
That's the only reason he'd agreed to wear the damn thing â a circular shackle of obligations that now betrayed him from somewhere under his coffee table.
Your finger finds the buzzer again, gentler this time.
"C'mon, bub. I miss you." The sweetness in your voice hits him like a sucker punch, memories of simpler times wrapped in those words. "It can be me and you tonight. We can have a bestie night." The offer dangles like a Time Machine to the past â back when your world was just two planets in perfect orbit, before it expanded into a solar system of friends.
Before Cole ever came around.
Luigi appears in the doorway like a ghost, just as you're about to admit defeat. Your face splits into a grin, but it falters when you really look at him. "God." Your eyes track the sharp edges of his collarbones beneath his shirt. "Have you been eating?" The question trails behind you as you follow him up the familiar path to the second floor.
The apartment feels wrong â like walking into a black and white version of a color photograph you know by heart. Every blind drawn tight against the afternoon sun, as if he's been developing emotional negatives in the dark. "Hey, what's going on?" Your fingers find his forearm, anchoring him before he can drift away again. "This is kinda giving me flashbacks to when you failed your final."
He flinches like you've pressed on a bruise, eyes scanning his self-made darkness as if seeing it for the first time - the familiar choreography of his pain laid bare by your observation. "This definitely feels different from that." His voice comes out hollow, each word carefully chosen to dance around the real issue.
"Better, or worse?"
"I don't know."
He sinks back into his spot on the couch, the oversized blanket making him look smaller than you've ever seen him. His eyes fix on the half-finished Lego set on his coffee table â the Millennium Falcon he'd started weeks ago, now collecting dust mid-construction.
Three hundred pieces still sealed in their bags, waiting.
"Is it your mom?" you try, but Luigi shakes his head. "Is it school?" Another head shake. "Work?" No. "Was it your aunt Lisa again? That bitchâ" He cuts you off with another shake. "Is it me?"
The question hangs there, and Luigi pulls the blanket tighter around his shoulders, refusing to meet your eyes.
He lets out a long breath, knowing he's trapped himself here â in this moment, in this conversation, in this truth he's been avoiding.
No way out.
"What?" You cross the room in three quick strides, dropping beside him and tugging at the blanket he's using as camouflage. "What do you mean, Lu? C'mon." Your hands search for any part of him that isn't wrapped in fleece, but he's determined to stay hidden. "What did I do?"
Luigi's eyes catch yours for a fraction of a second before darting away. "I really just want to sleep." The words come out muffled as he tries to fold himself smaller, but you're faster, yanking the blanket down before he can disappear completely. "Please."
"Luigi.â Your voice cracks, and you don't try to hide it. You've never had to beg him for anything before, not in all your years of friendship. "I can't leave knowing you're upset with me." It's the rawest truth you have, stripped down to its bare bones on the couch cushions between you. "Come on. Talk to me."
The silence grows so thick you could suffocate in it, until Luigi finally breaks it with a mumble. "How come you only make jokes about fucking me?" His throat works visibly before he adds, "And not anyone else?"
The question hits you like a slap. Your eyes drift across his coffee table, taking inventory â the joint still smoldering in the ashtray, his anti-anxiety meds beside it, a forgotten Gatorade from the night before.
Everything a testament to hours spent alone with his thoughts.
You drag in a deep breath, searching for words you've never had to examine before. "I mean â that's what we do, you know-"
"No," he cuts you off, voice sharpened. "It's what you do."
"Lu." Your spine straightens as confusion settles in. "Why is this suddenly an issue? I've always- I've always made those kind of jokes about us. How everyone thinks we're dating all the time." You stretch yourself forward, trying to catch his eye, but he keeps his gaze fixed somewhere on the floor. "I just lean into it, I guess. I didn't know it bothered you."
He sighs, the sound muffled as he drags his hands down his face. "It doesn't bother me."
"Then," frustration bleeds into your voice as you throw your hands up, lost in whatever conversation he's having three steps ahead of you. "What do you fucking mean?"
"I- I mean-" His tongue clicks against his teeth, each word coming slow like he's translating from another language. "It doesn't bother me in that way."
"In what way?"
"In the way that means you saying you'd fuck me bothers me."
"But you just said it bothers you."
"No,â he says, âI didn't."
Heat rises up your neck as your patience frays.
Your mind twists itself into knots trying to decode whatever puzzle he's laying out between you. "Look at me." The command comes out sharper than intended as you try to yank the blanket away from him. "Fucking look at me!"
The blanket rips from your hands with unexpected force, sending you sprawling onto his hardwood floor. Your oversized sweater is the only thing saving your tailbone from a bruising. "You fucking asshole." The words come out hot as you fumble for your boots to put over the socks that betrayed you in their slipperiness, and just as you manage to wrangle one on, Luigi emerges from his cocoon, fixing you with a look that stops you cold.
"I mean I guess-â He clears his throat, looking down at you with that familiar steady gaze, but there's something different layered over it now, something raw. "I mean- Why wouldn't you fuck me?"
The question hits like a fist to the cheekbones.
You freeze, one boot half-laced, mouth hanging open as heat floods you to your temples.
Of all the directions this could have gone, you never expected this brand of brutal honesty, delivered while you're sprawled ungracefully on his living room floor and wrestling with your shoelaces.
Your eyes dart between the coffee table and his face, pieces clicking together with nauseating clarity. "What kind of question is that?" The words come out sharp as your fingers hook uselessly around your boot laces.
"Well, what kind of joke is it to go around telling everyone we fuck?" He throws your logic back at you with devastating precision. "What's so funny about that?"
You bury your face in your hands, a groan muffled against your palms. Every memory floods back at once â all those times he tried to stop you from making dick jokes, all those moments people assumed you were dating and you played it up while he went quiet.
Six years of friendship viewed through this new lens makes your stomach lurch, and another heavy sigh tears from your chest.
"Can you at least tell me?" Luigi's voice comes out barely above a whisper, watching you curled up on his floor like a wounded animal.
You finally lift your head, meeting his stare head-on. "Do you want me to say I'd fuck you?"
The silence wraps around you both like a physical thing, but his eyes stay locked on yours even as color floods his cheeks. "Huh?" You arch an eyebrow, challenging. "Want me to say how hard I'd do it?" Your discarded boot connects with his shin. "How I know you whimper."
As if on cue, a small sound escapes him â half whine, half breath. He's still staring at you like you've knocked all the air from his lungs, struck speechless while you press your newfound advantage.
You move closer, settling between his knees as the blanket slips from his shoulders. With gentle pressure, you ease him back against the couch. "Want me to tell you how none of it was ever really a joke?" Your hand rests against his chest, feeling his heartbeat race beneath your palm. "How every time that you felt me push my ass against your dick wasnât just your imagination?â
Luigi reaches for you then, fingers trembling as they find your skin â reverent and careful. He's always been tactile with you, always finding excuses to be close. He knows the map of your hands better than you do, how your breathing changes when you drift to sleep, all the little things that make you who you are. "I knew it," he whispers as you settle against him, both of you finally exactly where you're meant to be.
You'd spent so long pushing these thoughts away, rationalizing every touch as just his nature â absent patterns traced on your skin during movies, fingers intertwined during conversations, gentle pressure points mapped across your arms during lengthy lectures.
Each gesture filed away as mindless habit.
But this was different. Every point of contact now carried weight, intention.
"I'd fuck you too," Luigi murmurs, drawing you closer, face pressed against your sweater. His hands spread warm and steady across your back, holding you like something precious, something he's afraid might slip away. âAnd Iâd whine as much as you wanted.â
The next week comes floating by once again, Cole hurrying beside you as you rush to your next lecture, desperately trying to untangle your earbuds, hearing Luigiâs voice echo in your mind, laughing at you for your resistance toward Bluetooth devices. âI - I wanted to see if maybe you wanted to-â
âIâm fucking Luigi.â You turn to Cole, your expression deadpan but fixed, serious but not all that concerned before the doors of the auditorium are flung open, and once again, you vanish behind them.
Cole bursts into a fit of giggles at the thought, realizing now that believing such a thing would be mean he was naive â heâs since learned from his mistakes. âYeah.â He murmurs to himself, âAnd Cassie and Dylan are still dating.â
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heyy girlypop đ
can i request a skz and how/what partner privilege they give you?? đ
partner privilege âĄ
a/n. girlypopđđđđđ will do đ€ sorry for such a long wait bestie đ€§
i wrote something similar with svt if anyone is interested ^_^
âćœĄ CHAN [ ì°Ź ]
everyone, including you, thought that whenever chan has a song idea or has written lyrics he shows it to the boys first. whether 3racha or felix or the others if theyâre nearby. only then the producers and then you. but one day, after chan gave you a new song to listen, you were sitting in the kitchen and reading a book. han and changbin walked in, chatting about something. subconsciously you listened to the convo, which happened to be about the song. âyeah, i wonder what itâs like. or if he used the thing i told him aboutâ han nodded and you rose your head. âoh the adlibs? the song is a banger, iâm sure stays will love itâ you hummed and sent them a smile. âhow do you know how it sounds?â changbin asked. âchan let me listen to it⊠am i the first one? i thought you wereââ you halted. âand we thought we were firstââ han mumbled, dialling chanâs number. blush crept at your cheeks, a sudden feeling of butterflies in your stomach. were you always the first listenerâŠ?
âćœĄ MINHO [ ëŻŒíž ]
âhey, weâre backâ!â felix hummed and was met with your quiet shh! looking at chan in surprise, they walked closer and noticed minho napping on your lap, quiet snores leaving his mouth. you were caressing his hair gently, giving them a silent warning to be quiet. âoh wow. first time in years i see this man asleep on someone elseâ chan grunted and they went to unpack the groceries. you continued running your fingers through his hair, warmth spreading across your heart. minho is truly like a cat; only falling asleep on a person he fully trusts and loves wholeheartedly.
âćœĄ CHANGBIN [ ì°œëč ]
you pop into the room, peaking your head and seeing your boyfriend engrossed in a lively discussion. âhey, binnie, ready to go?â you ask, drawing attention. he smiled wildly and proudly, standing up with a âsure, letâs goâ. that causes hyunjin to gasp dramatically and jeongin side eye seungmin. âyou literally told us your car just brokeâ seungmin murmurs and you frown. âwell, whatever y/n wants, she gets. which includes ridesâ he chirps happily and drags you out before they start shouting. âyou told them your car broke?â you laugh as he opens the door for you. changbin just winks and points at the aux. âshhh. you can play some musicâ he grins and hopes they donât see it from the dorm window. because theyâre absolutely not allowed to touch anything in the car.
âćœĄ HYUNJIN [ íì§ ]
hyunjin stops in his tracks once you kneel down and start tying your shoelaces. âoh, you donât have toâ you mumbled, looking up and smiling at him. your boyfriend shakes his head and mirrors your smile, kneeling down too. âhow could i not?â he hums and waits for you to finish. changbin turns around once he realises he didnât hear hyunjinâs laughter in a while and gasps. noticing you two are far behind, he grunts: âhe never waits for me when i tie my shoesâ. once youâre done, he stands up with you and grabs your hand, swinging it back and forth dramatically. jeongin suddenly kneels and ties his shoe⊠only for hyunjin to pass him by, chuckling. changbin sighs as if to say âsee, this is what i meantâ.
âćœĄ JISUNG [ ì§ì± ]
âno, go away!â youâre met with jisungâs growl when you enter the room. lino pouts and leans away, rolling his eyes. they greet you, hanâs mouth stuffed with food. you smile and sit next to them. after heâs chewed, he pokes your cheeks. âhi baby, how was your day?â han asks and slaps linoâs hand that made its way to his bento box. âitâs was decent. i missed youâ you hum and peek at his lunchbox. it looks delicious, with the fried rice and chicken andâ âyou want some?â. you nod shyly and in no time han gives you it, along with a pair of chopsticks. minho gasps, punching jisungâs arm. âiâve been begging you for a bite for half an hour and youâ! hmpfâ minho grunts and waddles away, offended. âignore him. if you want, you can finish it. itâs delicious, isnât it?â your boyfriend asks and laughs when you nod energetically. eyes staring at you lovingly when you take another bite, han smiles.
âćœĄ FELIX [ íëŠì€ ]
han walked into the room, letting out the loudest gasp ever. you turned around slowly, still busy with chewing the apple. both of you frowning, shock on your faces. âwhat?â you ask and han rushes to you, trying to push you off the chair. âare you crazy?! felix doesnât allow anyone to touch his gaming set! get off or heâll kill you like he tried to choke me when i touched his computer for a split secondââ jisung panics and you just shove the apple slice into his mouth to silence him. âhe allows me to play on his set, though? look, hereâs a house i built in the sims!â you chirp and show them the building, leaving han speechless and with flashbacks of the pure purge once felix found out one of them even tried thinking about logging into his accountâŠ
âćœĄ SEUNGMIN [ ìčëŻŒ ]
chan sighs heavily and passes you in the hallway. you give minho a questioning look but he just shrugs, returning to his phone. you plop down on the couch, next to your boyfriend when a sudden gasp rips from your lips. âdang, i forgot to take my phoneâ you grunt and are about to stand up when seungmin places a hand on your thigh, standing up himself. âiâll get it for you, i was on my way to kitchen either way. do you want something cold to drink too?â he asks softly and you send him a wild grin, nodding. seungmin startes at you lovingly and off he goes. chan comes back and sits at his place, mumbling something underneath his breath⊠âof course heâll get y/nâs phone but when i ask him, suddenly heâs asleepâ. a blush creeps on your face, minho giggling at chanâs misfortune.
âćœĄ JEONGIN [ ì ìž ]
ââand then he proceeded to slap my arm because i just borrowed his hoodie!â chan whined, crossing his arms. you laugh softly, patting his arm. âno, donât worry. itâs nothing personalâ you hum and see a text notification from your boyfriend announcing that heâll be there in a second. chan looks at you, almost hugging a thanks when his eyes widen. âisnât that his hoodie though? and his⊠shoes? and the cap too?!â he gasps. âyeah! he allows me to wear his clothesâŠ? i didnât want to say anything because youâd feel bad butâŠâ you stopped once i.n entered the room. before chan starts to argue, jeongin simply reasons: because they look better on you than on chan.
[ masterlist <3 ]
taglist. @geniejunn ,, @luvhyun3 ,, @starlostseungmin ,, @elviransworld ,, @jnks6r ,, @sieunsgf ,, @ethereallino ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @duolingofanaccount ,, @slytherinshua ,, @stxrseungs ,, @ka-ni-ma ,, @iliveforlixie ,, @ameliesaysshoo ,, @dazzlingligth ,, @mark-geolli ,, @l3visbby ,, @w3bqrl ,, @ddeonudepressions ,, @yourfavoritefreakyhan ,, @mirxzii ,, @kazmura ,, @primoppang,, @nfrgirl
#blue jisungs's requests#skz fluff#stray kids#skz#stray kids fluff#stray kids imagines#skz reactions#skz hyunjin#jisung skz#skz jeongin#skz lee know#skz bang chan#skz changbin#skz seungmin#skz felix#skz x reader#skz x you#skz x y/n#skz requests#skz imagines#skz scenarios#skz soft hours#skz boyfriend
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đ±đ3 đ»đđđđđ âż đđđđđ đ¶đđđ
Note: I love you all for your support for my Bg3 headcannons and I want to let everyone know my requests are open (also open for TLOU and Yellowjackets)!! Also, comment if you would like to be added to the bg3 taglist! I love you all!
Laeâzel
-She finds it ridiculous when the two of you stumble into a pleasure house.
-She hates outward displays of desperation for sex or yearning outside of the person you are trying to lay with. She was a steel face as your party looked around the rows of items. She is not interested in any of them.
-behind her back, you couldnât get anything without a sharp look sent your way. There are more critical things to do instead of istiks desperate need for a flesh bond.
-You are scared to tell her you had bought a strap-on. It wasnât anything crazy, but it was just something that had tickled the back of your head. So, you saved it for the right moment for you to introduce something new to your sex life with your overly serious githyanki lover.
-After a hard day of fighting, covered in sweat, blood, and dirt. She came to you. Her eyes are sharply intense as she looks over your form. She says, âI want to lick every inch of your skin of your scent. Tell me, do you tease me on purpose or just to make my hunger for you to grow?â
-You smile and play coy, knowing now that it does rile up Laeâzel, and say, âI am guessing I am not bathing tonight?â
-âNo.â Laeâzel says as she holds her arms across her chest. She stares you down and doesnât say anything else. She doesnât have to.
-So, you slip away and grab your bag whenever everyone is asleep. When you reach her, she gives you a stern look of confusion and dislike at you doing something unexpected.
-You sit down beside the bag and pull it out. You explain to Laeâzel that it is just for sex and that it is only needed to have sex differently.
-âAm I not pleasurable enough for you, then?â She asks in a defensive tone of venom, and you just smile and look up to her from your spot.
-âNo, the opposite. I wanted to know how it would feel if you had a penis.â
-âBut I donât.â ????
-You chuckle as you look up to her, âHave you never wondered what it would be like if you could be inside me? Like, claim me differently, my champion?â
-The comment of claiming clicked in her mind. She insisted she would be wearing it and using it on you.
-You help her put it on when she gets frustrated with the straps.
-Laeâzel doesnât even let up for a moment after hearing the whimper out of your mouth when she entered you. It was like something primal clicked in her head. She was going to claim your body and soul.
-Laeâzel licks your neck and chest with a soft growl, her hips slapping into yours without mercy. She hums low, moans in her breath as she thrusts into you. Your hands tangled into her hair and small braids, your breasts push against her lips as your back aches.
-Laeâzel becomes obsessed with the sounds out of your mouth. She holds your head down as she looks over your face intensely when you cum. She nearly cums against the strap when your name comes out in a shuttered breath.
-Laeâzel fucks you with the strap that night until the night sky crawled its way out of the sky. She groans at the fact she has to stop fucking you. She smells herself and you all in the air.
-Laeâzel will steal the strap and keep it with her. She may or may not smell it when she wants to smell you when you arenât near.
-Laeâzel will not be using the strap often, but she will use it when she wants to have a little more dominance over you. To show you that she was the source of every bruise and ache in your body.
-Her strap would be flesh-colored, or she would have never had it near her body. What do you mean that she can have a glittery purple strap???
-She is a Mean Dom who praises your good behavior. She is always razor-focused, always on top of everything in her life, and ready for battle at a moment's notice. She has no problem correcting you or making you understand the consequences of subordinates. Expect to have a few marks on your way out.
Karlach
-The second she enters the pleasure house with the party, she wanders off on her own. Searching, wondering, fantasizing. She doesnât want to get too pent up, so she leaves a little earlier than you do, not noticing you seeing her eye the strap on with blush on her cheeks.
-A devilish thought came to mind, and you got the one she was eyeing. It was a larger one that made you blush at the thought of it being stuffed inside you.
-But, because Karlach and you canât have sex until her next upgrade and a miracle, the strap is long forgotten in your crest.
-Once Karlach got her upgrade, IT. WAS. POUND. CITY!
-You and Karlach fucked in your tent, on the tent, by the campfire, by the campfire with your friends around you (very difficult to be quiet), in the river, in ruins, in the forest. There wasnât a moment that went by that Karlachâs hands were not trying to touch you.
-One night, while eating dinner at the party, you remembered what you had bought a few weeks earlier. You stay quiet as a blush comes over your face at the memory.
-When everyone retired to their tents, you entered your shared tent to find her humming away to a love song and sharpening her axe.
-âHey, soldier, I have been waiting for you all day.â She puts down her axe with a great smile to look at you. She notices the way you coyly stand. She leans back on the tent wall with a slight smirk growing, âWhat brings you around?â
-You melt to her face immediately and crawl closer to her with a devilish smile, âI missed you today. I wanted to give you something.â You say as you crawl in between Karlachâs legs. Inches away from their lips.
-âOh yeah, baby, whatâs that?â Karlach asks, clearly lusting after you again, and watches you intently.
-You run a finger up her stomach and to her heart. It burned like a cup of hot water, and you let your eyes worship the woman you love. âYou remember when we went to that pleasure house?â
-Karlachâs breath hitches when she feels you touch her. She only says shakily, âYeah?â
-âWell, I noticed what you were eyeing and bought it. I was wondering if you wanted to use it on me?â With your eyes meeting her, you asked her, and your hand planted itself on her strong shoulder.
-The same shoulder you hold on her for dear life as she fucks you standing up with the strap. She trusts you with the growls she uses in battle. She ferally fucks you as you cling onto her with yelping moans.
-Karlach looks down to see the black strap disappear into you like a magic trick. She had a big, goofy smile on her face.
-Karlach has you screaming, writhing, and desperate. You become lust drunk quickly, even have a moment where you just stare at her in reverence in the way she fucks you to bliss.
-Karlach didnât know her strength most of the time with you and didnât mean to manhandle you when she did. You never complained, though. You liked the feeling of her effortlessly lifting you up and down with her biceps under your thighs, or the way her hand completely covered your throat if she held you there, or when she grabbed your chin firmly to kiss you.
-âGods, I fucking love you- I am never letting you go! Fuck baby, look at me like that.â
-Karlach cums the moment you start to shake when your climax approaches. She shivers and ruts the strap into you like she was trying to push cum out of it.
-You are a writhing mess for her as you are placed on the floor, your toes still curling even after they have left your body. It was a delicious feeling. You bite your lip as she stares down at you, still standing and panting. The strap still in the air.
-âDid I do alright?â She asked. She wiped the sweat from her brow.
-You look up at her towering form and massive fake cock staring you down and say, âKarlach, you are a fucking amazing. Please- Please, will you fuck me again?â
-And she did.
-That was the night Karlach discovered she was the STRAP GOD.
-Karlach would get a big black strap if she had any day in what she wanted. She wanted something that seemed to fit her body, which happened to be big.
Shadowheart
-Shadowheart blushes when she comes inside the pleasure house with you and sees all the items for sale.
-She looks on with wonder and excitement at items for pain that caused pleasure. Nipple clamps, bondage rope of satin and silk, or wands made for shocking a person with a command word. It was all interesting to her, although she kept calm as she walked beside you.
-You look at her, and she meets your eyes silently. Your eyes point to a strap-on and back at her. You secretly speak to her about your wants.
-Shadowheart blushes and looks back at you. You can tell she says yes back to you. She loved this new secret language you two have created to speak intimately in public.
-You sneakily buy the strap-on without Laeâzel or Astarian noticing, keeping this secret for her. Which she dramatically approves of.
-You two act as though nothing has happened, and it is an ordinary day, an average day of adventuring through your quest. Shadowheart watched your behind all day, wondering what taking you from the back would be like. It excited her and made her happy.
-The day ended with conversation and planning the next move, where you will go tomorrow, and who to kill. You finally come over to her tent.
-Shadowheart smiles and asks, âI have been waiting for you this evening. Do I have you to myself now?â
-You didnât even say anything else before you kissed her lips. You softly push the two of you into your shared tent and want to use this now. The anticipation was killing you.
-The two of you make out on the sheets of the ground passionately, but you two fail to stop kissing each other when you move to open your bag.
-Shadowheart surprisingly wants to use it on you first as she takes it from your hands and puts it on herself. She looks down at you as she puts herself together, âI want to have you. First, I want to see your face twist for me,â she says as she slowly lowers to kiss you again.
-She flipped you around out of nowhere. As she grabbed onto your hips, she kissed the back of your neck. She rubs herself against you as she gently enters you from behind.
-She watched in fascination at the way your ass jiggled and bounced with her thrusts, she liked the way your thighs slapped against hers, and she could just watch it all. Watching your wetness spread on your cheeks and thighs as she fucks you passionately.
-When you have cummed on the fake cock, she kisses your neck and begs for you to do the same. She takes it off, helps you put it on yourself, and lays it down for you to be on top of her. You passionately kiss her and fuck her back as her soft moans filled the tent.
-You take turns with the strap; sometimes itâs her using it, or you are using it on her. It was a reoccurring character in your sheets, and it becomes beloved very quickly upon both of your first climaxes with it together.
-Shadowheart would get a purple glittery strap if she had any day in it because it was simply pretty and did its job while being pretty.
Minthara
-Minthara doesnât react much to the pleasure house or the inside items. She glanced over the items with a carefree attitude that made your heart beat fast in your chest for some reason. She surprises you by asking the employee to let her see this item beyond the display case, and she, without shame, â(Y/n), come here.â She softly orders in front of your party. You blush softly as you do as she commands, and she asks to see the different sizes and colors.
-Minthara Baenre was raised to be a proud Matron of Menzoberranzan and has the qualities similar to nobility of Faerûn, She was bold with her sexuality and desires. She actuallly gets a kick out of embarrassing you in a manner like this, to her it was amusing how people without status acts towards sex.
-She asks you for the size you would like and smirks as she asks for one a size bigger. She picked a deep red strap with satin ropes and added it to her bag like it was nothing at all. You leave the interaction and shop with heat pooling in between your thighs.
-Minthara doesnât waste time with her new item. She waits for that night. It doesnât matter what happened or what needs to be discussed with the party members, and you need to gag on her cock.
-Minthara waits in your shared tent and has it proudly on herself, adjusting the straps as you walk in.
-she has you on your knees in obedience and has her hands running through your hair as she thrusts into your mouth to see how it looks.
-Minthara says, âSuch a good lover, so obedient with those eyes looking at me, just like that.â As she bucks her hips into your open mouth.
-Minthara has you propped in her lap in a death grip on your hips, thrusting up into you with the strap. Minthara had her eyes fixated on your face, watching it twist in helpless pleasure to her manhandling.
-Minthara kisses and sucks on your breasts as she listens to you writhe. She wanted to be covered in you, wanted to be stained in you, forever scarred by your love and lust.
-Minthara is the queen of overstimulated and mocking pouts, âI know, Ust-nor, I know. You got a little more to give me. I want it.â
-Minthara has you cum on the strap a total of four times before she feels settled and ready to let you off her strap. But she would steal one more after seeing your spent face as you lazily lay on the pillows of your bedroll
-Minthara happily cuddles you after. She loves you intensely and lays her head on your chest. She pets your body tenderly as she whispers to you about how well you did, how powerful she feels after, and how the two of you will dominate the under dark hand in hand.
-There is no surprise that Minthara is a brutal mean dom without mercy. She likes to be in power and be actively
#bg3#bg3 x reader#lae'zel x tav#lae'zel x durge#lae'zel x reader#lae'zel headcanons#lae'zel#shadowheart headcanons#shadowheart x tav#shadowheart x durge#shadowheart x reader#shadowheart#karlach headcanon#karlach x durge#karlach x reader#karlach x tav#karlach#karlach cliffgate#minthara baenre x reader#minthara x durge#minthara headcanons#minthara baenre#minthara x tav#minthara x reader#minthara#baldur's gate 3#baldur's gate 3 x reader#lesbian
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Hi dear! I would like to appreciate your works. I really enjoy everything you wrote, Wish you have a great day! đ
Since you're taking requests, could you please write Wade with a polite, sweet and delicate partners. He's with a person who's the definition of "Too pure for this world and MUST be PROTECTED at all cost" His partner showers him with love and validation, and always love to listen to him! Thanks! đ
possibly based on real life events.
Wade Wilson is so in love, it must be sickening to everyone around him.Â
In fact he knows it is and he does not care. Heâll say âlook at this meme the love of my life sent me!â and the person who he shows will roll their eyes, as if you donât have incredible taste in cat pictures. Heâll monologue constantly about how cute you are and how much he loves that scrunchy thing you do with your nose. Heâs recited committed-to-memory facts about you so many times that his friends can parrot them too.Â
âYes, I know what their favourite film is, I know you took them to a special viewing of it for their birthday. Itâs cute, Wade,â says Laura, patting him on the arm condescendingly. Well, itâs not his fault youâre so wonderful! There isnât a single thing about you thatâs not perfect. Heâs constantly bowled over about just how much affection he can fit in his body for you. The other night he was going on about something stupid - he canât even remember what now, maybe it was about the new Taco Bell menu? - and then realised you hadnât interrupted him once to shut him up like most people would.
Youâd looked over the top of your magazine at him when heâd pointed this out, brow cocked.
âWhy would I want you to shut up? I like listening to you talk, Wade.â
Marry you. Heâs going to marry you. Every day, then divorce you every day too so he can marry you again.Â
You are probably too good for him. Most of his social circle thinks so. Youâre patient and kind, when youâre not at your job - where you work at a charity adopting out senior animals, as if you could be any more of a fucking angel - you like to spend your time in his shitty little kitchen, baking desserts for him to get home to. Heâll find you getting Al to taste test for you and his apartment full of laughter and joy.Â
Man, heâs definitely put on like, six pounds since the two of you started dating. He needs to be stronger in the face of your cupcakes.Â
They are really fucking good though.Â
He walks in that night with a plushie under his arm. Itâs a cow. He remembers you mentioning offhand how cute you thought cows were, so he decided to grab the biggest one the toy store one the way home had just because he knows itâll make you smile. You donât need any more stuffed toys; you sleep with them all in the bed and theyâre pushing him off the side at this point because of their sheer number but, well, he likes seeing you happy.Â
And then he hears sobbing.Â
âSweetheart?â he asks, immediately panicked. Are you injured? Has someone come to hurt you - has he painted a target on your back because of his job? Bile fills his throat as he stumbles forwardâŠ
âŠand there you are, sitting in front of the TV, PlayStation controller in your lap as tears run down your face while the end of the game plays out. Wade has never felt such relief in his life, laughing as the ache of it is taken from his chest. You turn to him with wide, watery eyes.Â
âDonât you laugh at me, Wade Wilson!â
âIâm sorry, Iâm sorry. But babe⊠are you crying at the end of Kingdom Hearts?â
âNo!â you lie, trying to mop your face off with your sleeve. Then the music hits its crescendo from the crappy speakers and you start wailing all over again.Â
He loves you. Heâd kill a million billion people for you. It would take a hell of a long time but hey, one word and heâd do it. If anyone even lifted a finger to hurt you heâd execute them so thoroughly that every generation of their family would be wiped out of existence too.Â
To put it in terms youâd approve of, heâd do anything for you. But he also knows youâd never ask him to. Youâre just that wonderful.Â
â⊠would it help if I got us take-out and you started playing the second one?â
âUh-huh,â you manage to confirm.Â
âI could be in this fucking game, beat Donald Duckâs little feathery ass. Disney, make it happen.â
âWhat?â
âDonât worry about it. Pizza or Chinese?â
Taglist: @falsewordz @malfoys-demigod @belilwen @mildly-salted @tvwebs @childeslegstrap @getmeoutofhell @s1eep-o @just-a-beatlemaniac69 @yrthr @momopad @sugarplumz100 @captainjinkx @madspads @acrosstheunivcrse @yeethaw13 @na-is-salty @florduarte @hunterispunk
#My writing#mcu x you#mcu x reader#mcu imagines#mcu x y/n#mcu imagine#marvel x you#marvel x reader#marvel imagine#marvel x y/n#deadpool x you#deadpool imagine#deadpool x reader#wade wilson x reader#wade wilson imagine
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seeing you use their merch
â nct dream ᥣđ©
cw : none! 100% fluff <3
a/n : gn reader as alwaysss <3 i have no more drafts after this so requests are opennnnn!! other than the whole ass sns au in there but i don't think it's leaving anytime soon HAHAHAH
mark:
sent you a selca of him on the plane so you sent one back
took him a while to notice that you were wearing his name around your neck
was down on his knees because that is his name on your neck!
tried to act cool ofc because he doesn't want to act like a fool in front of you
"yoooo is that a new necklace?"
couldn't stop thinking about it the whole plane ride
went directly to wherever you were because he couldn't wait anymore
can't stop smiling every time he remembers that you have his name basically on you
probably boasts about it to other members because he can't get over it
would ask if you're down to get couple rings next
also would make a promise that it'll be replaced with wedding rings in the future
both of you are equally down bad for each other tbh
renjun:
asked if you could come by practice with snacks and drinks
you agreed and just grabbed a random hoodie from your closet
it was the hoodie he designed for nctzens
first thing he noticed when you stepped in the room
couldn't focus because he was too busy looking at you
chenle and haechan teasing him for being whipped for you
every time you use the hoodie he will be taking hundreds of photos
i mean you are wearing one of his designs so you can't blame him
already has a few more designs ready because he loves seeing you wear what he creates
became your daily hoodie too since you know how much he loves seeing you in it
jeno:
came over to your place one day without giving you a heads up
smiled when he noticed you wearing his jersey
directly askes you how you got it without even saying hi or hello
your cheeks started heating up because you realised what you were wearing
kisses your forehead because of how cute you are
"don't be shy, it's just me"
you stopped wearing it since you felt embarrassed after getting caught
he asks about the jersey one day and said that he likes seeing you wear it
it makes his stomach turn in a good way
you wore it again the next day and he was sooooo happy
couldn't stop smiling because of how good the jersey looks on you
"you look so perfect in my jersey, never stop wearing it"
you folded right then and there
haechan:
wanted to surprise you for your birthday so he came sometime before midnight
you were so confused on why someone would visit you so late
saw you in his sanrio pyjamas and forgot the main reason why he came over
"cute pjs, where'd you get them?"
of course he'd tease you
wouldn't stop telling you how cute you look right now
became the clingiest person known to man
forgot about the cake he bought and accidentally squished it while hugging you
you look so adorable in his eyes so you can't really blame him
luckily the cake was still in its box
he apologises while trying to act cute and you roll your eyes jokingly at him
the night ended with both of you eating a smashed cake on the couch.
jaemin:
the biggest smile ever was plastered on his face when he saw you in the narcissism hoodie
didn't say anything for a while because he just wanted to admire you
you. in his hoodie.
that was enough to make him go crazy
doesn't shut up about how adorable you are
would just stare at you because you're just so perfect in this moment
takes a lot of pictures of you to make the moment last longer
not much to say other than the fact that he LOVES seeing you wear the hoodie
"forget what that hoodie says, you're my number 0"
it was your turn to smile like an idiot
chenle:
was just looking around your room while you were gone
spotted dehet on your desk and made a mental reminder to bring it up later
by later he meant the moment you got back from the bathroom
didn't even give you the chance to fully enter your room again
asks you about the yellow plush sitting on your desk
you shrug and tell him its cute and it looks like him so you had to buy it
only caught the part that you said it looked like him he has selective hearing i swear
"you're sooooo in love with me"
he keeps on randomly teasing you about the doll mid conversation
you forgot that chenle can't be normal about anything
he's lucky that you love him
jisung:
both of you were heading out
you asked him to help you get your bag from your room whilst putting on your shoes
while waiting for you he took the chance to look at each of your keychains
turned pink when he saw the walnut keychain
he had to take a picture because of how precious it was to him
you asked him why he randomly took a picture of your bag and he just smiled and shrugged
didn't think much about it until he kept smiling to himself the whole day
you questioned him about it and he replied that he thinks your keychains are cute
was confused for a second till you remember the walnut keychain
you got shy about it because you didn't think that he'd notice it
tells you how happy it makes him feel when his lover supports him
#nct dream#nct#nct dream x reader#nct x reader#nct dream reactions#nct reactions#nct dream scenarios#nct scenarios#nct x you#nct dream x you#nct dream imagines#nct imagines#nct dream headcanons#nct headcanons#nct fluff#nct dream fluff#mark x reader#mark lee x reader#jeno x reader#renjun x reader#haechan x reader#jaemin x reader#chenle x reader#jisung x reader#park jisung x reader
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His Girl
Luke Castellan x female!reader
Description: Luke spends a moment with his favourite hot tempered darling.
Gif is not mine, credits to the creator.
*****************************************************************************
It was an agreed upon opinion that battle axes were incredibly unconventional but you had decided from the moment you had it made that this would be your weapon of choice. And by the gods, did you have a temper. You'd joke that at least your brutish rage would match your brutish weapon. It was extremely ironic when the owl symbol burned brightly over your head and not the symbolic blessing of Ares.
Luke always thought you were a fascinating person: soft features sharply contrasted with fiery eyes and an axe. All that righteous rage never looked so beautiful. He'd received a very limited amount of blessings that were for him alone, but you were satiating and comforting and the hollowed feeling in his chest filled when you let him reach out and accept him in your hands and heart.
And sometimes he'd think, okay maybe there's some salvation and goodness for me.
"Luke? What are youâ"
"Justâ let me, okay?" He asked as he traced his thumb across your brow and cheekbone, his other hand cupping the back of your neck, cradling you closeâ admiring, imbibing, "the twins tried to prank you again?"
You rolled your eyes, "would've been funny if I didn't see it a mile away."
"Is that so? Is that why they had me hide your axe?"
He laughed, drawing you close, kissing away the claims of betrayal and conspiracy.
"Gods, you're so beautiful," He sighed.
Sooner or later things were going to change. Luke had a feeling that the summer solstice would truly stir the pot and for all your anger, he knew that when it came down to it, you might not side with him always. In a way, Athena cannot be trusted and hence, neither could you or even Annabeth for a matter of fact.
That wasn't going to change his mind or the skeleton of a plan he'd created but it did make him begin to miss you already, and he knew that he'd covet you even more as the time passed and he'll miss your precious righteous anger and the bittersweet taste of salt and sweat that he kissed off your lips and cheeks after strenuous tasks or games.
His girl with fiery eyes and an axe.
"Yeah, yeah; you keep complimenting me while aiding and abetting the twins. Cancels each other out."
You grinned, tucking your head into the crook of his neck, sneaking your thumbs under his shirt, brushing his sides. You know Luke'll return your weapons and Travis and Connor will be sent for their showers after the entire Hermes cabin finishes theirs for the next week. All in all, dating Head Councelor has its perks.
"Your birthday's coming up, got any requests?" He asks, pressing a kiss to your hair before leaning back to look you in the eye.
"Nah, maybe we can spend the day sparring. I can show you this technique I've developed."
"Sparring, huh?" He smirks, "sure, I'd love to see this technique of yours."
"Wow, leave me alone," you roll your eyes, swatting at him.
He catched your hand and presses two kisses between your knuckles and as always, almost love a traditional practice you do the same to him.
"Alright I gotta go, the new kids got their Greek lesson now," you say.
"Wish I had such a gorgeous tutor back in the day," he teases, grinning as you stick your tongue at him, "I'll see you later."
"Yeah you will. I love you."
"I love you more.'
His girl with fiery eyes and an axe.
*****************************************************************************
#luke castellan x reader#percy jackon and the olympians#pjo fandom#pjo fanfic#percy jackson#luke castellan#charlie bushnell#lc
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Love is Blind
âââââââ · · A Smosh FanFic
Pairing: Spencer Agnew x gn!Reader
â · · SUMMARY: Smosh Games is making another title in the smash hit board game series, love is blind, but is it all fun and games- or will you actually end up winning something worth a lot more?
â · · TAGS: gender-neutral pronouns, super tooth-rotting fluff, part social media au, suggestive themes, attempt at humour, a bit chaotic but the vibes are there.
â · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 1,570
â · · A/N: let us all thank the anon that sent this request it! đ
âââââââ · ·
"Hello everyone and welcome to the Smosh Games channel today we will be finding out is definitively, is love truly blind? And as you can all see, I am joined here with (name), Amanda, Arasha, Olivia, Spencer, Chance, and Trevor for the first time in this shows history!" Angela introduces the viewer as you all way and cheer for Trevor who hides behind his wine glass with a playful smile.
"How are we all feeling today?" Angela asks the table and Amanda leads first. "Heyyyy, My names Amanda I'm 25 and my friends told me to come on this show. I ummmm, am from New York, yaaa! And I love to party, I work as a marketing assistant!"
"Hi, I'm Olivia, 44, I was told we win money on this show-?" Amanda leans over whispering a loud no, and you laugh as her shoulder drop. "Well, I was going to be on this show to win but now I'm just here for the drama and if I find love, great, whatever- I work as a scientist, can make more money."
"Hello, Name's Trevor and I work in digital media, I-uh am 20-something and love to cook!"
"Its Arasha and I am 20, this is being filmed and Europe so don't you dare take this glass away from me! I work in Digital media as well and if my first date is a walk on the beach, just know that there won't be a second date, m-kay?"
"Sup, I'm straight-Chance and you all have no-chance if I'm the other one in a love triangle. I am 22 and work as an actor, catch me in films you never knew about!"
"I'm Angela, 50, sales, have been divorced thrice and am looking for my fourth special-someone."
"Ummm, hi? I'm (name) i'm (age), and work also in Digital Media. I-uh love table-top games and yeah"
"Hi, I'm Spencer, 33, and also love table-top gaming..." You and Spencer both look at one another with a smile before looking towards Angela as she quickly goes over the rules and the game commences.
âââââââ · ·
Early on, you were not matching with anyone and that was making you nervous. Sure it was a silly game in all but you were competitive nonetheless and seeing as Olivia, Amanda, and Chance all had multiple connections while you had one and nearly a half, you knew that your odds didn't look great.
"Okay!" it was your turn to read out a question card. "For a date I would: A. Rather stay inside, B. Go out to Dinner. C. Go for a Walk-"
"Fuck the walk," Olivia slammed her card down before you could even show your decision, the cast erupted with laughter as you didn't bat an eyelash and turned over your card. "I said A. Stay Inside. I was thinking we could have a movie night at home or just order in. More intimate that way," you explain. Suddenly feeling the reality of the game come to life as you nervously waited on your peers answers.
"the results are in and only one A... hm" you commented, checking it off on your card with a small from. This unknown person was really running away with your scorecard, only one more point and you could propose- potentially winning the game. It was time to lock it in.
Round after round, question after question, you and this person were connecting effortlessly, it even had you questioning if you had both broken the game by how in-sync your answers were. So much so that the other members of cast started wiggling their eyebrows in your direction as your cheeks warmed.
"Okay guys! Its only just a game but a game I do intend to win!"
âââââââ · ·
So focused on creating a strategy to match your unknown match, you were none the wiser to Angela calling out your name multiple times.
"C'mon you are sounding like my ex-wives, never listening to me. Please stand up, I have something to say, no one else is playing the purple character" Angela yelled across the table, pointing in your face as you held your hands up and walked around to stand in front of the table.
"(name), even though we both have not known one another for long, I have fallen so in love with you. More in love than my other two, or was it three wives? and however many children I father... just know that I want to have you be mine. Please marry me?" Angelas voice cracks near the end, she conceals her laughter by biting her shoulder as you bring up your hands to your mouth to do the same.
Your eyes are clouding in tears before you burst out in laughter and say no, watching as she collapses to her side and bellows out dramatic cries before standing back up and asking Olivia to come over, they both end up getting engaged.
"I would actually like to call someone forward. If the blue character could greet me at the front, please." And to your shock (and internal horror yet delight), Spencer steps forwards, your eyes wide as saucers as he smiles at you. Forgetting what to do Spencer looks down, reminding you to propose much to everyones enjoyment and your embarrassment as Tommy shouts out from behind the camera, "Could love truly be blind???"
"Shut-up, please! Spencer, I-uh. Well we have connected a lot over this game, we see eye-to-eye and have formed a meaningful connection over these hours that have felt like years. I never knew someone could match my freak, so to speak and would you do me the honour of marrying me?" you take the ring out of your back pocket, presenting it to Spencer who appears to have the blush of his own.
You both stand their still in that moment, forgetting the cast, crew, and cameras, "yes, I do- I mean yes I will marry you." Standing up to place the ring on his finger, you both hug and hold each other for a moment too long for what should be a cut scene before taking to your seats.
In all honesty, you both forget that you are still holding each others hands after the cut-scene and it carries through to the end of the game.
âââââââ · ·
The drama continues yet for you and Spencer, it was smooth sailing as you both did not go out looking for a 'better connection' and end up making it to your wedding day. you keep having to remind yourself that this is a mere fantasy, a game but it feels too real as Spencer takes your hands in his own, smiling and whispering jokes for only you to hear as Tommy reads out your vows.
"And do you, Spencer, take (name) to be your lawfully wedded spouse? In sickness and in health? For richer or poorer? For both as long as you shall live always?"
"yes, I do," Spencer says, placing the ring on your finger, bringing it up to his face for a kiss as your face heats up more than it has all game. "And (name) do you take Spencer to be your lawfully wedded spouse? In sickness and in health? For richer or poorer? For both as long as you shall live always?"
"I do." And the cast and crew all stand and cheer as in that moment you both debate on kissing one another. "Are you playing?-"
"Never," Spencer eases your worries, "could I kiss you?" he asks in a soft tone, wanting to cherish the moment you both know to be real.
"Yes, please." And then his lips are on your own, the world silenced yet again, his had cupping your cheek as you lean into his touch.
âââââââ · ·
When the cameras cut, your lips still tingling and your face set with an unmoving smile that Spencer mirrors. You two are the only ones left on the set as Spencer leans against the table, "I know this seems a bit weird considering that we're married-" you laugh before asking him to continue with hopeful eyes as he reaches out to hold your hand, you accept, fingers intertwining.
"Would you want to go out sometime?"
"Yes, I would really like that."
âââââââ · ·
đ Spennser just posted, check it out!
âââââââ · ·
Liked by trevorevarts, ianhecox, co_mill and others
spennser first date and just married, quite the day! w/@.yourusername
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yourusername you forgot engaged too*
âł spennser sorry my bad đ
username24 if you two didn't end up going out after THAT episode, I would believe that love is dead, not blind... or well maybe both idk
Ianhecox this post is doing numbers, please make more videos together, we need these profit margins đ
co_mill you two are so cute, can't wait for when you actually get married! đ„č
âł spennser who says that that wedding was fake? đ€š âł co_mill no, you are correct. I have no idea what I was saying earlier, beautiful ceremony, now can I have your spouse? âł spennser no â€ïž
username88 no @.username01 comments?? What in the world is happening here??
trevorevarts cograts, cograts, congrats, and congrats (I think I got them all?)
anthonypadilla I leave smosh again for one day to go to the doctors and now another pair of you are getting married, wtf?
âââââââ · ·
â · · SPENCER AGNEW TAGLIST: @lisiliely @missflufffanfics @little-stitious-studios @thejourneyneverendsx @sibsteria @lizzylynch1 @babble2 @delaneyburghardt @thevintagefangirl @uniquely-haunting @maricarorp @sarahskywalker-amidala
#fanfic#fanfiction#simp-ly#simp-ly-writes#x reader#ask#fluff#ask asnwered#answered#spencer agnew fanfiction#spencer agnew imagine#spencer x reader#spencer agnew#spencer agnew x reader#smosh imagine#smosh games#smosh fanfic#smosh fanfiction#smosh#smosh x reader
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red string theory || lotte wubben-moy x reader
summary: the first time you see lotte wubben moy, you didnt actually see her.
your life was always connected because you are meant to be.
warnings: none, just fluffy fluff with my lotte girl
from this request
a/n: i hope its okay what i wrote it about lotte because i thought this request is so lotte coded
wc: 1,739 words
"Are you nervous about tomorrow?" my work colleague, who is also my best friend, Jules, looks at me with a focused expression.
A few years ago, I attended college in the USA, where I ran my own sports blog for the university newspaper. I especially enjoyed writing about the womenâs football team because I witnessed the sport gaining more popularity there.
It felt so empowering to see how all the girls were following their dreams, and I always wanted to share their stories so everyone could see their passion.
I was packing all my work stuff into my bag when Jules called out my name.
"Y/N, can you please help me real quick?"
I sighed but stopped what I was doing and walked into the salesroom.
"Can you make a latte macchiato real quick? Table 7 has a big order, and Iâm swamped. Sorry for interrupting you," she said.
I smiled softly at her before glancing at the girl who had ordered the latte. I barely registered her, only noticing how graceful her movements were.
It felt kind of ironic that my last customer of the day would be such a mysterious woman.
But life moved on, as it always does, and that moment faded into the countless fleeting, insignificant encounters you never expect to think about again. Until much later.
----
"Oh my girl, Jules, you made it!" I pulled her into a tight hug.
"Of course! It's your graduation today! I'm so proud of you, my little nerd."
After three years of hard work, endless studying, and way too much crying, Iâm finally done. Iâm now a certified sports journalist with a focus on womenâs football. I couldnât be happier.
"Now itâs time for you to introduce me to your girlfriend! I canât wait to meet the mysterious Alessia in person."
Her smile grew even wider as I mentioned her girlfriend. "Come on, sheâs right over there, chatting with an old friend from university she randomly ran into here."
----
Iâve checked my phone. 8:00. I arrived at the training ground of THE Arsenal Womenâs Football Club.
When I sent my application to a few football clubs as a media coordinator, I never thought my childhood club would hire me. I spent the last few days looking for an outfit and stayed awake the whole night out of nervousness.
Itâs already my second week, and Iâm still not used to being around all these inspiring and energizing women. You werenât exactly starstruck, but there was something about being around people youâd admired from afar that left you feeling slightly unsteady.
But itâs different with Lotte. From day one, she helped me with everything. Lotte, however, had a way of disarming you with her easy demeanor. When she introduced herself, it was as if you hadnât spent the last three days binge-watching match highlights featuring her perfect tackles and precise passes.
Over the weeks, you got used to seeing her around the training ground. She always made an effort to say hi, even if it was just a quick wave or a casual âHowâs it going?â Each interaction was brief, professional, andâyou told yourselfâentirely inconsequential. Except that, somehow, you found yourself looking forward to them.
She had this smile and the way she cared about everyone around her that sticks in my mind, and I canât stop thinking about her even after work. Itâs like weâve known each other for years.
---
Today was Media Day, and even though I love the girls, I was relieved to have a moment for myself in the cafeteria. Suddenly, someone asked, 'May I join?' At first, I didnât realize they were talking to me, but when my eyes met my favorite defender's, I knew Lotte was the one addressing me.
'Not at all,' I replied, gesturing to the empty seat.
I donât want to admit it, but knowing I wasnât paired up with Lotte for todayâs interviews made me a bit sad. Thatâs why Iâm even happier to spot her here during my little break.
She set down her tray, which held a steaming bowl of soup and a sandwich that looked far too healthy for my taste. 'So, howâs life in the media world? Still surviving?'
I chuckled at her words. 'Itâs going well. After today, I have a lot of videos to edit, and I still write a blog for a college newspaper, with the deadline coming up, so Iâm a bit stressed. The time difference with the USA makes it even harder. But who am I complaining to? Iâm sure your schedule is even more packed.' I babbled, feeling a bit embarrassed that I hadnât stopped talking. It was just a simple questionâno need to turn it into a whole essay.
She listened closely the entire time, trying to keep up with me. "Really? Youâre very ambitious about your job. I like that. You mentioned the USA. Are you writing for an American college?"
I felt seen, and it made me feel special. I adore her so much. I gathered my thoughts again to answer her.
"Yes! I went to the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill and have always had a passion for writing. They had a womenâs football team that was still in its early stages. They inspired me so much that I decided to write about them in the weekly college newspaper. Sorry for beating around the bush, yes, I write for an American college." My cheeks turned red because, once again, I rambled on.
I noticed the sudden change in her behavior. "Wait, really?" She looked at me, kind of stunned and questioning. "Iâve been to UNC too, before signing professionally for Arsenal. Do you mean the North Carolina Tar Heels? I played for them while you were writing for them."
I widened my eyes in disbelief. "That caught me off guardâwow. Weâve been so close and never talked to each other."
âItâs like we were orbiting each other,â she said one day, her voice thoughtful. âLike we were always meant to meet, but the timing just wasnât right.â
Her words stuck with me, replaying in my mind long after sheâd said them.
---------
Over the next few weeks, sometimes Lotte would bring me a coffee. A few days later, I noticed something as she handed me the cup. "Since when do you get your coffee from that shop near Covent Garden? The one with the green awning?" She looked confused and stuttered, "Since forever. It's my favorite coffee shop. Do you know it?"
"Are you joking? I worked there a few years ago."
âI canât believe this. Itâs like weâve been circling each other our whole lives.â
This connection with Lotte feels so magical, I canât even process how life always seemed to bring us together.
âMaybe itâs fate,â you said softly, the words slipping out before you could stop them.
She smiled, a slow, knowing smile that made your heart skip a beat. âMaybe it is.â
-------
As the weeks turned into months, your relationship with Lotte continued to grow stronger. The bond you shared deepened, built on a foundation of shared history and the undeniable pull you felt toward each other.
One evening, as you sat on her couch with a cup of tea in hand, she reached over and intertwined her fingers with yours.
âYou know,â she said softly, her voice quiet, âIâve always believed in timing. That everything happens when itâs meant to.â
You looked at her, your heart full. âAnd what about us? What does this timing mean?â
She smiled, her eyes warm and steady. âIt means weâre exactly where weâre supposed to be.â
And for the first time, you believed her.
#arsenal#woso community#woso imagine#woso x reader#woso#lotte wubben moy#lotte wubben moy imagine#lotte wubben moy x reader#lotte wubben moy fluff#woso x y/n#woso fanfics#woso appreciation#woso fluff
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Hiii! How would slashers react if their usually soft s/o ask them to kill someone for whatever reason?
OOOOHH I LOVE this idea!! give me a sec to whip something up!! (Post production edit: I'm so sorry it took so long! I had a long spell of creative rut!)
VARIOUS SLASHERS WITH SOFT S/O ASKING THEIR PARTNER TO KILL SOMEONE FOR THEM!
Includes: Jason, Micheal, Vincent Sinclair, Lester Sinclair, Bo Sinclair, bubba Sawyer, Thomas Hewitt, Charles Lee Ray, Freddy Krueger
AS ALWAYS MDNI! I AM AN 18+ PAGE! THANK YOU!
Jason Voorhees:
Jason was confused to say the least- you WANTED him to kill someone? What did that bastard do?
When you first come to Jason, your usually cheerful face set in grim determination, and almost resignation- he feared the worst, that you wanted to leave him.
But when you uttered the question, when you asked him to kill someone- his already dead heart felt like it may break again- what did they do? Why did you feel the need for him to kill them?
Does he need to make them suffer? How badly did they hurt you?
It may be overwhelming how many questions he asks (signs) you.
Of course in the end he will of course kill the person- if for nothing else than because he cares for you and your mental health.
He will set you up all cozy before he leaves to do the deed, leaving you with blankets and movies and hot cocoa.
Michael Myers:
No questions asked- he is out the door.
dont even expect to be able to explain WHY you want this guy/girl dead- he will already be grabbing his weapon and heading for the door.
Of course he will make it especially painful- they hurt his S/O after all.
But once its done, he'll slink home, wrapping his arms around you from behind and burying his face in your neck, still bloodied from the asshat who DARED make you upset.
And of course he would cuddle you close, silently holding you and stroking your tummy, low growls are expected if you try to get up at all.
he probably will keep you home for the next few weeks- for your 'protection'
and he does mean it!!!
he wants you safe!!
Even in his own fucked up way <3
Vincent Sinclair:
Vincent will pause- eyes scanning you- thinking perhaps it was a joke
you HAD to be joking right?
but when he realized you weren't his stomach turned-
what the hell had this bastard done? clearly he didn't DESERVE to be immortalized- so of course Vincent wouldn't use him at all in his art
rather making Lester 'dispose' of the body quietly
he would make it painful- violent; much more than usual
Once the deed is done he will coddle you, showing you little sculptures, or if you are interested in art- draw and paint with you, his watchful gaze never leaving you- you were his messiah, his god/dess you were his everything-
he would make sure you were safe.
even though he would usually leave this to his brother, it's personal now
Lester Sinclair
Now Lester, he's taken off gaurd by this request, you his sweet lil angel cakes are asking him to off someone?
But of course he won't tell you no.
He will make sure to get his Bowie knife all ready to 'take ojt the trash'
He will ask how painful it should to be
If your crying when you ask, even more reason for him to make that bastard suffer worse than they made you suffer.
Bo Sinclair
Bo doesn't ask anymore questions.
All he needs to know is when where and who.
Of course he will make it painful
And of course he will make the fucker suffer, maybe he will even remove a few fingers to torture them.
He wants his partner happy, so hearing you ask him to kill someone sent him off the fucking rails.
Bubba Sawyer
Bubba sees red
Why would you of all people want someone dead?
Unless they hurt you real bad.
That makes him really angry
He doesn't like the idea of you being hurt, let alone someone else hurting you so bad you don't want them alive anymore.
It will be painful
And slow
He knows how to kill fast, so it stands to reason if he doesn't hit vital points he can make them suffer longer
Thomas Hewitt
Tommy sees red, very similar to bubba
Except he will put on a full on manhunt for the fucker
Using more phycological methods first, stalking them like prey
Before snatching them up and ending them brutally
Charles Lee ray
An excuse to kill some sad mother fucker? Gladly.
But when he sees the tears in your eyes, the way you are shaking, it's personal.
It isn't any longer something to waste time.
This fucker hurt his partner.
This bastard dated touch what was his.
Honestly he will probably fillet the fucker
Freddy Krueger
He won't make it easy.
He will torment the bastard for weeks in their dreams before finally striking.
And of course he won't let you forget that you asked him to kill someone
Of course he is worried, he doesn't fully grasp what the sudden change was about, but he doesn't mind killing for you.
#slasher fucker#slasher boyfriend#slasher x reader#slasher hcs#slasher headcanons#vincent sinclair x reader#lester sinclair x reader#lester sinclair#vincent sinclair#bo sinclair x reader#bo sinclair#micheal myers x reader#micheal myers#jason vorhees#jason vorhees x reader#bubba sawyer#bubba sawyer x reader#thomas hewitt#thomas hewitt x reader#charles lee ray#human chucky#charles lee ray x reader#freddy kruger x reader#freddy krueger#18+ mdni#mdni blog
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To the Sky and Back
SUMMARY: After a falling-out with Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, reader tries to piece her life back together, avoiding every place and routine that reminds her of him. But when Bradley faces a high-risk mission, a visit from Natasha "Phoenix" shatters her fragile peace, forcing her to confront the depth of her feelings. With Bradleyâs life hanging in the balance, she must decide whether to risk her heart again and let him know just how much he means to her before it's too late. A story of love, loss, and second chances, To the Sky and Back explores the courage it takes to hold on to what truly matters.
A/N: This was a combination of two different asks that I received! One was requested for the prompt and then the other was requesting some angst with Bradley where the angst is a little more prolonged. Thanks to both of the people who sent the request for this in! Hope you enjoy it!
PROMPT: "I'm sorry I'm not the person you want me to be."
WARNINGS/TAGS: Angst. Some more angst. And then some fluff.
WORD COUNT: 7.4K
TAG LIST: IN COMMENTS
If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added! Below are the fandoms I currently write for.
Glen Powell: Himself (RPF), Characters He's Played
Twisters: Tyler Owens, Boone, Scott, Javi
Top Gun: Maverick: Rooster, Hangman, Bob
Marvel/MCU: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers
WWE/Wrestling: Cody Rhodes, Corey Graves, Damian Priest, Drew McIntyre, Finn Balor, Jimmy Uso, Jey Uso, Kevin Owens, L.A. Knight, Pat McAfee, Roman Reigns, Seth Rollins (if there is someone you're thinking of from WWE and they aren't on the list feel free to ask! There are so many guys on the roster that these were the ones that came to mind.)
The Hard Deck hummed with its usual Friday night energy. Glasses clinked, laughter rose in waves, and the jukebox crooned an old Tom Petty song. You sat at the bar, absentmindedly tracing the condensation ring your drink had left on the wooden surface. It had been four months since youâd seen Bradley Bradshawâfour long months of waiting, wondering, and overthinking. You couldnât decide if the knot in your stomach was from excitement or the growing anxiety about what, exactly, you and Bradley were.
Your heart jolted when you heard itâthe unmistakable low rumble of the Broncoâs engine pulling into the parking lot. Your pulse quickened, and you felt every nerve in your body go on high alert. Turning toward the door, you saw him.
There he was. Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, in all his casual, rugged glory. Light wash jeans clung perfectly to his long legs, paired with a simple white undershirt under an unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt. His aviators, always a part of his signature look, were perched on his face, but as he stepped inside, he slid them off, tucking them into his shirt pocket. The room seemed to dim around him, your focus narrowing solely to the man youâd spent countless nights thinking about.
His eyes scanned the bar, and the moment they found yours, a lazy, lopsided grin spread across his face. He didnât break eye contact as he ordered his beer from Penny. Then, beer in hand, he made his way to you.
âHey, gorgeous,â he said smoothly, his voice low and warm, like a melody youâd missed without realizing it.
A soft laugh escaped your lips as you slid off the stool, your arms wrapping around him instinctively. The tension of the last four months meltedâif only for a secondâas he looped an arm over your shoulders and pulled you in. He smelled of salt and sunscreen, the lingering scents of the ocean clinging to him.
âMissed you, sweets,â he murmured near your ear.
Your throat tightened at his words, but you forced yourself to play it cool, smiling up at him. âMissed you too.â
For a moment, you were lost in the way he looked at you, the warmth in his hazel eyes making your chest ache. But then, with a slight squeeze of your shoulder, he pulled away.
âI should go say hi to the gang,â he said, gesturing toward the pool table where Phoenix, Bob, and Coyote were gathered. âYou donât mind, right?â
âOf course not,â you replied quickly, shaking your head. âGo catch up.â
He gave you another of his disarming smiles before walking off, his long strides carrying him toward his friends. You watched him go, heart sinking slightly as you turned back to the bar.Â
The reality of your situation hit you again: you didnât know where you stood with him, and the months apart hadnât brought any clarity.
The laughter from his group reached your ears, and you sipped your drink to distract yourself. You wanted to be happy just to see him again, to feel his arm around you, to hear him call you âsweets.â But in the pit of your stomach, the question gnawed at you: What are we?
The night had deepened, and the cool ocean breeze filtered into the bar as the laughter and music continued around you. Bradley had been with his friends for most of the night, his easy smile and quiet laugh lighting up the group. You didnât begrudge him the time to reconnect, but your heart weighed heavier with every passing minute. You couldnât wait any longer.
When he came back to the bar to grab another beer, you saw your chance. Before he could return to the others, you touched his arm, stopping him.
âBradley,â you said softly, your voice almost drowned out by the jukebox. His hazel eyes met yours, warm but questioning. âCan we talk? Just for a minute.â
His brows knitted slightly, but he nodded. âYeah, of course. Whatâs up?â
You gestured toward the patio doors. He hesitated for a beat, then set his beer down and followed you outside. The night outside was quieter than inside the bar, the faint crash of waves filling the space between you.Â
Bradley leaned casually against the patio railing, but there was tension in his shoulders that hadnât been there a moment ago. He seemed almost hesitant as he met your gaze.
âWhatâs on your mind, sweets?â he asked, his voice warm, though a flicker of unease crossed his features.
You exhaled deeply, gathering the courage to say the words that had been circling in your mind for months. âI need to talk about us, Bradley. I need to know what weâre doing.â
His expression faltered, confusion laced with discomfort. âWhat do you mean?â
âI meanâŠâ You took a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself. âWeâve been doing this for a year. And Iâve been happyâreally happyâwith you. But I canât keep pretending Iâm okay with not knowing where I stand. I need to know if this is going somewhere.â
He shifted his weight, dragging a hand through his hair. âI didnât think we needed to put a label on it,â he said, his tone measured. âI thought we were good.â
âThatâs the problem,â you replied, your voice trembling slightly. âI might have been okay with that before, but Iâm not anymore. I want more, Bradley. I want to be yours, and I want you to be mine. Officially. Exclusively.â
He frowned, the lines on his forehead deepening as he crossed his arms. âI donât see why we canât just keep things the way they are. I like what we have. It works.â
âDoes it work for you? Because itâs starting to tear me apart,â you shot back, your voice louder now. âIâve spent the last four months not knowing if I was the person you missed or just someone to pass the time with when youâre here.â
Bradleyâs head snapped up, his hazel eyes burning with something between guilt and frustration. âYou think I donât miss you?â he asked sharply. âYou think I donât care about you?â
âI donât know what to think, Bradley!â you admitted, throwing your hands up. âYou never tell me how you feel, and you keep everything so damn vague. I donât even know if youâve been with anyone else, because weâve never talked about it!â
His jaw tightened, and he stepped closer, lowering his voice. âI havenât been with anyone else. Itâs only been you.â
The sincerity in his voice made your chest ache, but it didnât ease the tension coiled tightly inside you. âThen why canât you just say it? Why canât you call me your girlfriend?â
âBecause it scares the hell out of me!â he snapped, his voice breaking slightly. He turned away, bracing himself against the railing. âIâve seen what this life does to people. My dad left my mom behind, and it destroyed her. I canâtââ He exhaled roughly, his broad shoulders rising and falling. âI canât do that to someone. To you.â
Tears stung your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. âYou think youâre protecting me by keeping me at armâs length? You think it doesnât hurt to feel like Iâm asking for too much just to be something more to you?â
He turned back to you, his hazel eyes filled with regret. âIâm sorry,â he said quietly. âIâm sorry Iâm not the person you want me to be.â
His words cut deep, and a tear slipped down your cheek before you could stop it. You swiped at it angrily, stepping back. âIâm sorry, too. Because I canât keep doing this. I canât keep pretending this is enough.â
âWait,â he said quickly, reaching for your hand. âDonât go. Please. We can talk about thisâfigure something out.â
You shook your head, pulling your hand away. âWeâve been âfiguring it outâ for a year, Bradley. I canât keep waiting for you to decide Iâm worth the risk.â
âDonât say that,â he said, his voice breaking. He stepped closer, desperation flickering in his eyes. âYou are worth itâI justââ
âYou just donât know if youâre ready to admit it,â you finished for him, your voice trembling. âAnd I canât keep waiting for you to be ready.â
The silence between you was deafening. He looked at you like he wanted to say somethingâanythingâthat would make you stay, but the words never came.
Finally, you turned and walked away, tears blurring your vision.Â
âWait!â Bradley called after you, his voice raw. âLet me at least drive you home. Please.â
You stopped but didnât turn back.Â
âNo,â you said firmly, your voice barely above a whisper. âDonât follow me, Bradley.â
As you reached the parking lot, Jake Seresin stood leaning against his truck, his arms crossed as he watched the scene unfold. When your tear-streaked face came into view, his expression softened.
âYou okay?â he asked, his voice low.
âCan you drive me home?â you asked, wiping at your cheeks. âJust drop me off and come back.â
Jake nodded, his usual cocky demeanor nowhere in sight. He opened the passenger door for you without a word, and you climbed in.
As Jakeâs truck rumbled to life, you glanced back. Bradley stood on the patio, his hands on his hips, his face a mix of heartbreak and confusion. The sight of him cracked something deep inside you, but you forced yourself to look away as Jake pulled out of the parking lot.
The weight of what had just happened settled heavily on your chest, and for the first time in months, you felt the full brunt of the unknown youâd been living with.
The hum of Jakeâs truck filled the silence as you stared out the passenger window, the cool night air brushing against your face from the barely cracked window. You gave him quiet directions when needed, your voice soft and distant. Jake didnât press, didnât ask what had happened right away, and for that, you were grateful.
But the silence couldnât last forever.
âYou wanna talk about it?â he asked finally, his voice even but cautious.
You shook your head, your eyes still fixed on the darkened streets. âThereâs nothing to talk about.â
Jake glanced at you briefly, the furrow of his brow barely visible in the dim light of the dashboard. âDoesnât seem like nothing,â he said carefully. âYou looked pretty torn up back there.â
Your jaw tightened, and you exhaled sharply through your nose. âIâm fine,â you said, though the crack in your voice betrayed you.
Jake didnât push, but he wasnât ready to let the conversation drop entirely. After a moment, he said, âYou know, Rooster talked about you while we were deployed.â
Your head turned sharply toward him, your stomach twisting. âWhat?â
âYeah,â Jake said casually, his hands steady on the wheel. âNothing too specific, but⊠you came up. Enough to know you were on his mind.â
The words stung more than they soothed. If youâd been on his mind, if heâd thought about you during those long months apart, then why couldnât he just give you what you needed? Why couldnât he make things official?
âGreat,â you muttered, crossing your arms. âThat makes it so much better.â
Jake glanced at you again, his lips pressing into a thin line. âLook, Iâm just saying⊠the guy cares about you. He might not say it the way you want, but he does.â
You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. âCaring about someone isnât enough if you canât show it. If he cared, he wouldnât make me feel like Iâm asking for too much just to have some clarity.â
Jake didnât have a response for that, and the silence returned, heavy and thick.
A few minutes later, he pulled up in front of your place. The truck idled quietly as you unbuckled your seatbelt and reached for the door handle. âThanks for the ride,â you said, your voice softer now.
âAnytime,â he replied, his tone sincere. âYou sure youâll be okay?â
You nodded, though the tightness in your chest said otherwise. âYeah. Iâll be fine.â
Jake didnât look entirely convinced, but he didnât argue. âIâll wait till youâre inside,â he said, his voice firm but kind.
You gave him a small, grateful smile before stepping out of the truck. The cool night air hit your face, grounding you for a moment as you made your way to your front door. You fumbled with your keys, finally unlocking the door and stepping inside.
As you turned to shut the door, you glanced back at Jake. He gave you a short nod before driving off, his truck disappearing into the night.
The quiet of your home wrapped around you as you leaned against the door, your chest tightening with the weight of everything that had happened.
For the first time in a long time, you felt completely alone.
The silence of your home was interrupted by the sharp buzz of your phone on the counter where youâd dropped it. You hesitated before picking it up, already guessing who it might be.
The screen lit up with Bradleyâs name. The first message was simple, almost hesitant.
Bradley: Just let me know when youâre home safe.
You stared at it for a moment, your chest tightening. A second buzz followed.
Bradley: Can we talk? Please?
Then another.
Bradley: I shouldnât have said what I did. I justâI didnât know how to handle it.
And another.
Bradley: You can put the label on it. Whatever you want. I donât care. Just⊠donât shut me out.
You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat growing with each buzz. His words were frantic, almost desperate, but that only made the ache in your chest deepen.
He didnât want the label because he wanted it. He wanted it because he thought it would keep you from walking away. That wasnât what youâd asked for. You wanted him to want you, fully and without hesitation. But this? This was him trying to patch things up without really understanding what had broken.
The phone buzzed again, another message lighting up the screen.
Bradley: I care about you. You know that, right?
You sat down on the edge of the couch, the weight of everything settling heavily on your shoulders. Your thumb hovered over the screen, debating whether to respond.
But you didnât. Not to this. Not to him trying to fix things for the wrong reasons.
Instead, you set the phone down on the coffee table, face down, and leaned back, closing your eyes. If he really wanted to know you were home safe, he could ask Jake. The thought was petty, maybe even cruel, but right now, you donât have the energy to be the bigger person.
You needed space. Time to think. And if Bradley wanted to prove he cared, heâd have to do more than send a flurry of panicked texts.
Your bedroom was dark except for the soft glow of a streetlight filtering through the curtains. You kicked the door shut behind you, your chest heaving with the weight of unshed tears.
Stripping off the shirt and jeans youâd worn to the bar, you rifled through your drawer for something comfortable. You yanked out a pair of sweatpants and an oversized T-shirt, tugging it over your head in a rush to get comfortable.
The scent hit you before the realization. That faint mix of salt air, pine, and his cologne.
Your heart plummeted.
It was his shirt.
You froze, staring down at the faded Navy insignia printed across the chest. A lump rose in your throat, thick and unrelenting. Without thinking, you ripped it off, balling it up in your fists.
The scream tore from your throat, raw and full of anguish as you hurled the shirt across the room. It smacked against the wall and slid to the floor like it had no right to exist, like it hadnât just unraveled you completely.
"I hate you," you whispered, your voice trembling as you sank to your knees. "I hate you, Bradley Bradshaw."
But even as the words spilled from your lips, you knew they werenât true.
You hated the way he made you feel. The way he held you so close but never close enough. You hated the way he smiled at you, like you were the only person in the room, and the way your heart betrayed you by falling for him.
You hated that you werenât enough for him.
Tears streamed down your face as you pressed your palms into the carpet, curling over yourself. He wouldnât put a label on it to protect you, but what good did that do now? You were already in too deep. The dates, the late-night conversations, the stolen kisses, and the nights spent tangled in his sheetsânone of it had been casual for you.
God, you were in love with him.
The sob broke free before you could stop it, wracking your body as you crawled onto your bed. You grabbed your pillow, clutching it against your chest as if it could anchor you, and let the tears fall.
It hurt. It hurt because the label didnât matter in the grand scheme of things. Whether he called you his girlfriend or not, it wouldnât stop the fear you felt every time he flew. It wouldnât protect you from heartbreak if he didnât come back.
And yet, the label was everything. Because it meant he chose you. It meant he wasnât holding back, wasnât keeping you at armâs length because of his own fear.
The pillow muffled your cries as you curled into the fetal position, trembling from the force of your grief. You hated him, but only because you loved him so much more.
The light from the morning sun filtered through the blinds, casting warm, golden hues across the room. You woke with a start, blinking against the brightness, your head heavy from the weight of last nightâs tears. It took a moment for your eyes to adjust, the remnants of your sobs still echoing in your mind, the sting in your throat lingering.
You sat up slowly, the tightness in your chest reminding you of how broken you had felt when you finally gave in to the exhaustion and let sleep claim you. You hadnât expected to wake up with this much pain still sitting in your bones. The weight of everything felt heavier today, more unbearable.
Then you heard it.
A knock.
A sharp, insistent pound against your front door.
You flinched, the sound jerking you from your thoughts. Your gaze flicked to the alarm clock on your nightstand. Barely eight in the morning. Who would be knocking at your door this early? You pulled the blanket off your body and swung your legs over the side of the bed, feeling the dull ache in your limbs from the previous nightâs emotional rollercoaster.
With trepidation, you padded down the hallway, the floorboards creaking beneath your feet. Your mind raced with thoughts of what could be waiting for you on the other side of the door.
You reached for the handle, taking a deep breath before opening it.
And there he was.
Bradley Bradshaw.
Standing there, one hand raised in the midst of another knock, his eyes wide, full of uncertainty and something else. Something deeper. His jaw tightened when he saw you, and for a moment, neither of you moved, the air between you thick with the unspoken.
He was still in the clothes heâd worn to the bar last night, like he hadnât bothered going home first. His expression was a mixture of regret and frustration, but there was something else tooâguilt, maybe. Or maybe it was just that damned vulnerability that had always been so hard to read with him.
âHey,â Bradleyâs voice was softer than you expected, rough around the edges, like heâd barely slept.
You didnât respond right away, your eyes flicking over his face, searching for something. What did he expect from you right now?
You werenât sure you even had the energy to be angry with him. The night before had drained you, and the last thing you wanted was to face him again.
âI⊠uh, I wanted to talk.â His voice cracked, and it sent a shiver down your spine.
You stood there, frozen, still not sure if you were ready to hear what he had to say. Last night had hurt too much, and you werenât sure if you were willing to put yourself through more of it.
But, against your better judgment, your mouth opened. âAbout what?â You didnât mean for it to come out like that, but the words slipped from your lips, laced with a bitter edge.
Bradley shifted his weight, his eyes dropping to the ground for a brief moment before meeting yours again. There was something desperate in his gaze now, something that mirrored the pain youâd felt last night.
âI screwed up. I know I did.â He spoke like he hadnât planned the words but theyâd come out anyway, raw and real. âI just⊠I didnât think youâd want a label, but I get it now. I see that Iâve been messing this up for both of us.â
Your chest tightened. The familiar ache in your heart was back, that throbbing reminder of how close you were to breaking. He was standing there, telling you everything you needed to hear, but it didnât change the fact that it was too late.
âI didnât want to pressure you into something you didnât want, but if Iâm being honest⊠I donât want to lose you.â His voice softened, and there was a flicker of something that could almost be called regret. But the words didnât feel right. They didnât feel like they were coming from the heart. They felt like something he was saying out of guilt.
The silence stretched between you. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears, feel the weight of the decision that had to be made in the pit of your stomach.
You opened your mouth to say somethingâanythingâbut nothing came out. It was all too much, too soon.
Bradley stepped closer, closing the space between you, his expression pleading now, vulnerable in a way that made your chest ache.Â
âI want this with you, I do. But Iââ He stopped himself, breathing out like the words were caught in his throat.
You looked at him, really looked at him. You could see the cracks in his façade, the uncertainty that was so unlike the confident man you knew. But even with that vulnerability laid bare, you couldnât shake the feeling that it was all just words.
âI donât know if I can do this anymore, Bradley,â you whispered, shaking your head slowly. âI donât want to be some maybe or could be. I need to know where I stand.â
Bradleyâs face fell, his lips parting as if he were about to say something else. But nothing came. He just stood there, looking at you like he was piecing together what he should say next.
âIâm sorry,â he said softly, and for the first time, you saw the true weight of regret in his eyes.
You bit your lip, trying to hold back the emotions that threatened to spill over again. âI donât think you are, Brad. Not really.â
The air between you both thickened, and you couldnât take it anymore. Without another word, you stepped back, closing the door gently in his face.
You leaned against the wood, closing your eyes as you heard his footsteps retreat, his presence now a memory.
You were alone again.
And maybe that was how it was always meant to be.
* * * * *
The days dragged on in a haze of quiet frustration and longing. Each morning you woke, the weight of the nightâs emotional unraveling clung to you like a second skin. The sun would shine through your window, the world would move forward, but you felt paralyzed by your own hurt, by the thought of Bradley, by the pain of what could have been and what never would be.
You tried to get yourself back on track. You tried to act normal, to resume your routine, but everything seemed to remind you of him. His absence was like a wound that wouldnât heal, reopening with every corner you turned.
The grocery store was the first hurdle. You knew Bradley went every Monday, and it used to be something the two of you did together. It felt like some unspoken tradition, something that was both ordinary and deeply comforting. But now, it just felt like a reminder of everything that had gone wrong. So you avoided it, switching your shopping day to Tuesday. Even though you knew he wouldnât be there, the thought of running into him in that same mundane space, where everything felt like a memory, was too much to bear.
The Hard Deck was the next obstacle. The bar where youâd spent so many nights with him, the place where you laughed, argued, and shared quiet moments between chaos. You knew there was more than a 50% chance Bradley was there any given night. The bar, the music, the dim lighting that you once enjoyed felt suffocating now. You could hear his laugh in your mind, could see the glint of his eyes as he grinned across the room. But you refused to risk seeing him, to risk letting the pieces of your heart shatter again. Even when you drove by a few nights, when his Bronco wasnât parked in its usual spot, you still didnât stop. What if he had caught a ride? What if he was inside, and you just didnât know? You couldnât take the chance. Not when every interaction with him had the potential to destroy you further.
And the texts⊠the texts never stopped.
At first, they were constantâhis messages coming in one after the other, in a rhythm that mirrored his thinking. Morning, noon, and night. He texted like he couldnât bear the thought of you not knowing what he was doing, where he was. He sent them as soon as he woke up, like he needed to remind you that he was still thinking about you, even if he hadnât quite figured it out himself. Those morning messages were the hardest to read, because you knew he hadnât forgotten you. He was still holding on in his own way, but that didnât change the fact that he hadnât fought for you when it mattered.
And then came the late-night ones. The ones that were sent in the early hours, long after the world had gone quiet. You would wonder if he was sober when he wrote them, or if he had been drinking, a little too far into his own thoughts and regrets. Those messages were the ones that made your heart ache because they felt like half-baked apologies, like words spoken too late. They didnât fix anything, they just twisted the knife.
But the ones that hurt the most were always in the middle of the day. The ones sent out of habit, when he was about to head into the sky, the ones that used to bring you a sense of safety, a quiet assurance that no matter what, Bradley always had a way of telling you what he was doing. âHey, Iâm headed up. Iâll be in the air for a couple hours, but Iâll let you know when Iâm back on the ground.â It was something that had become routine between the two of you. You never asked for it, but you always appreciated it.
Now, those messages made your stomach drop. You hated the anxiety that came with the first text, the one that told you he was headed into the sky. And you hated the sense of relief you felt when the second one came, telling you he was safely back on the ground. It was stupid. It was pathetic. But no matter how much you tried, you couldnât stop caring. You couldnât stop the gnawing feeling in your chest, the pull of wanting to make sure he was okay.
And thatâs what drove you mad.
You hated that you still cared. You hated that despite everything, despite his distance and his indecision, you couldnât make yourself stop thinking about him. You couldnât make yourself forget Bradley Bradshaw.
Even as you tried to rebuild your life, to find new routines, new places, new things to focus on, it all felt like an illusion. Nothing felt normal anymore. Your world had become a strange, hollow echo of what it used to be. And no matter how hard you tried to avoid him, to erase the pieces of him from your day-to-day life, you couldnât escape the truth.
You were still in love with him. And you were still waiting for him to make a decision.
But you knew you couldnât wait forever.
You just didnât know how to stop.
* * * * *
Two months had passed since that early morning when Bradley stood at your door, and in that time, youâd learned to carry on without him. It wasnât easyâsome days were harder than othersâbut you were slowly learning how to exist without waiting for his texts, without hoping for him to just show up at your door again.
You still thought about him. Not every day anymore, but almost. And that, you decided, was progress. It didnât feel like much, but it was something. There were days when the memories of his laugh, the warmth of his hand in yours, didnât sting quite as badly. And then, there were days like today, when the past came rushing back to you in a way you couldnât avoid.
It was just a knock on your front door. You werenât expecting anyone, and yet, when you heard it, you knew something was about to change.
When you opened the door, there she wasâNatasha "Phoenix," standing in front of you. Her usual confident demeanor was a little softer today, like she was carrying something heavy that she didnât want to talk about.
"Hey," she said, her voice low but steady. "Can I come in?"
You nodded, stepping aside to let her in. Something about the way she stood at your door made your chest tighten. It wasnât just the fact that it was herâit was what she was about to say. You didnât know how you knew, but you did. You couldnât remember the last time youâd felt this anxious.
The two of you made your way to the kitchen, where you offered her a drink. She politely declined, settling down at the table. You sat across from her, your hands fidgeting in your lap.
"Everything okay?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. You werenât sure why, but you already had a sinking feeling that you werenât going to like what was coming.
She hesitated for a moment before speaking, her eyes meeting yours. "Thereâs a mission coming up. I canât tell you muchâitâs classified. But I wanted to let you know that Bradley might be flying it."
Your breath caught in your throat, your heart skipping a beat. You knew this was bad. You could feel it.
"Bradleyâs been flying high-risk missions for years," Phoenix continued, her voice steady but firm, "but this one is different. This is the most dangerous mission heâll have flown. The odds⊠theyâre not good. It will take two miracles happening at the same time for him to get home safely."
You couldnât breathe. You wanted to stop her, to tell her that you didnât need to know all the details. But you couldnât. The words had already come, and they were burning through you.
She leaned forward slightly, her eyes serious. "But thereâs something else. Something I need to tell you, woman to woman."
You swallowed hard, trying to brace yourself, though you already felt like you were crumbling.
"Bradley hasnât been flying with a clear head," Phoenix said, her voice dropping to a more quiet, urgent tone. "Not since the last mission. Heâs been distracted, pulled in a thousand different directions. And if he doesnât fly this one with a clear head⊠I donât think heâll make it back."
The words hit you like a physical blow, and you felt your chest tighten, the air suddenly impossible to breathe.
Bradley hadnât been okay. Heâd been struggling, and you hadnât even known. You hadnât been able to help him, to fix whatever had been broken inside of him. But this⊠this was worse than anything you had imagined.
You stared at Phoenix, your mind reeling. All you could think about was the possibilityâthe realityâthat Bradley might not come home. You had never imagined a world where that could happen. Where you could lose him forever.
And then it hit youâthe realization that it was never just about the label. It was about so much more. About how, no matter how much you wanted to be enough for him, you werenât the one who had mattered enough to him for him to put everything aside, to fight for you. And that was painful. But the thought of him not coming home? That ripped you apart in ways you didnât know you could be broken.
"Please," you said, the words breaking through the suffocating silence. "Please tell me heâs going to be okay."
Phoenix didnât answer immediately, her gaze shifting away as if she was trying to find the right words, the right reassurance. But there was nothing she could say.
"I donât know," she finally said, her voice so low you could barely hear her. "I wish I could tell you otherwise, but Iâm not sure. I donât know if heâs going to be okay."
The words hung in the air between you, suffocating you in their weight. And all you could do was sit there, trying to grasp onto the fragile threads of hope that felt so far out of reach.
It was the hardest thing youâd ever had to hear. The thought of him not coming home, of him being lost to the sky foreverâit made your entire world feel like it was unraveling.
You thought you were past him. You thought you could move on, heal, and put him behind you. But now, all you could think about was the future, the one where you would never get to see him again.
It was too much to bear. And you hated it. You hated that you couldnât walk away from him, that you couldnât turn your back on the love you had for himâeven if it was unspoken, even if it was unfinished. You hated that you couldnât fix him, couldnât make him see you the way you needed him to.
But worse than anything, you hated that you might never get the chance to tell him how much you loved him.
Phoenixâs voice cut through the overwhelming weight of your thoughts, pulling you back to the present. "Theyâre getting on the aircraft carrier at 7:00 a.m. tomorrow," she said, her words steady but carrying a weight you couldnât ignore. "Iâm not asking you to come. Iâm not asking you to talk to him. That decisionâs up to you."
You felt a lump rise in your throat, the tightness in your chest making it hard to breathe. She wasnât asking you to go to him, but she wasnât telling you not to, either. The choice was yours, but it felt more like a trap than an option.
For a moment, the only sound in the room was the quiet hum of the fridge in the corner. Phoenix didnât seem to expect anything from you, but you could feel the gravity of the situation pulling you under. You didnât know what you wanted, what you were supposed to want. All you knew was that Bradley was flying, and there was a real possibility he might not come back.
You swallowed, blinking back the tears that threatened to rise. "Thank you for telling me," you said quietly, your voice betraying the emotional weight you were carrying. "IâI donât know what to do with this. But I appreciate you coming to me."
Phoenix gave you a nod, her face unreadable. "Just make sure you take care of yourself, alright? Whatever you decide."
You didnât know what that meant. Taking care of yourself? How were you supposed to do that when the person who had occupied every corner of your mind was potentially flying into danger?
She stood up, her movements deliberate. "Iâll leave you to think about it," she said softly, her tone still serious but warm. "Take your time. But just know, whatever happens tomorrow, youâre not the only one who cares about him."
You nodded, not trusting your voice enough to say anything else.
She left then, and the silence in the room was deafening. The weight of her words, the knowledge of Bradleyâs upcoming missionâit all settled like a stone in your stomach. You wanted to scream, wanted to run to him and beg him to stay, to take care of himself, to put everything on hold until he could figure it out. But you didnât know if that would even make a difference. You didnât know if anything would.
You sat there for a long while after Phoenix left, staring at the kitchen table as your mind raced, desperately trying to put the pieces together. Could you let him go again? Could you really do it?
Your phone sat on the counter, and you found yourself staring at it, knowing the texts from Bradley would come soon. They always did. But you didnât reach for it. Not yet. You couldnât bring yourself to open that door again, to let him back into your heart when you were still so unsure of everythingâof what he felt, of what you felt, of whether or not heâd make it home.
And then, as the evening wore on, you found yourself pacing the apartment. You didnât know what you should do. You didnât know what to feel. Should you show up tomorrow morning? Should you see him off? Should you do what youâd always doneâpretend like everything was fine, like nothing had ever changed? Or should you face the reality of it all, admit to yourself that you might never see him again?
The decision was suffocating. You were pulled in two directions, unsure of what the right choice was. Every part of you ached to see him one last time, to tell him what you had never said. But part of you wondered if you were just chasing something that had already slipped through your fingers.
And so, you sat with it, the uncertainty eating at you, and waited. Tomorrow would come, and with it, the moment when you would have to decide whether you could let him goâor whether you would risk it all to see him one last time.
* * * * *
The morning air was cool, but the nerves gnawing at you kept your body warm as you pulled into the parking lot at 6:15. You wanted to be here earlyâtoo early maybeâbut you couldnât take the chance of missing him. It had been two months since you last saw Bradley, and now, you had no choice but to face everything youâd been running from.
The lot began to fill as you sat in your car, watching people say their goodbyesâfamilies, friends, all of them hugging and holding on to each other a little longer than usual. Each goodbye seemed to break something inside you, a reminder of what could be lost, of what you had once had and might not again.
And then you heard it. The familiar rumble of an engine. Your heart skipped a beat as you glanced to your right and saw itâthe Broncoâpulling in next to you. You didnât even have to look twice. You knew it was him.
For a split second, your eyes locked through the windshield, the kind of silent exchange that spoke volumes. Neither of you moved for a beat, the weight of everything unsaid hanging between you like a thick fog.
You didnât know who moved first, but before you knew it, the car doors opened, and you were walking around the front of the Bronco to where Bradley stood.
There was a long pause, the air between you thick with everything you were both carrying. Your lips parted first.
âIâm sorry,â you said, the words coming out choked and raw. âIâve been⊠so messed up, Bradley. Iâve been pushing you away andââ You stopped yourself, your chest tightening as emotion swelled. âI didnât mean it. I just⊠I donât know what to do anymore.â
Bradleyâs jaw clenched, his gaze turning hard with guilt before he stepped toward you, cutting you off.
âNo, Iâm the one who should be apologizing,â he said, his voice low but raw, full of regret. âI took you for granted. I lost you.â
The tears you thought you had already shed seemed to fall again at the sound of his words, and before you could stop yourself, you felt the sting of them, hot and sudden, blurring your vision.
His hands were on you then, pulling you into his arms, warm and solid. He was trying to comfort you, but it only hurt more, the realization that he knewâhe knew it was his fault. The pain youâd been carrying had finally broken through, and you couldnât help it. You cried harder into his chest, unable to control it.
Bradleyâs arms tightened around you, his own breath shaky as he pressed his cheek against the top of your head. You could feel the way his body shook with something deeper than just the coolness of the morning air.
And then, between sobs, you whispered itâthe thing youâd been holding in, the thing you needed him to hear.
"I love you."
There was no hesitation. No stiffening, no pulling away, just him pulling you closer, if that was even possible.Â
His voice was rough when he replied, âI love you too, sweets. So damn much.â
The world seemed to stop then, everything else fading into the background as Bradleyâs words sank in. The walls youâd built around yourself felt like they were crumbling as the words youâd longed to hear washed over you, finally, finally making everything feel right again.
But even then, the worry gnawed at you, pulling you from the moment. Your voice trembled as you looked up at him, hands gripping his shirt tight, âCome back to me. Please⊠come back alive.â
His hand cupped your face, his thumb brushing away a tear that had slipped down your cheek. He hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching yours.Â
âI promise,â he said quietly, and you believed him.
But then, as if the weight of the moment suddenly hit him too, Bradley pulled back just enough to look at you fully.Â
There was something in his eyes, something that made your heart beat faster as he asked, âWill you be here when I get back? Will you wait for me?â
You nodded quickly, the answer spilling out of you before you could even think about it. âYes,â you whispered, breathless. âIâll be here.â
Bradleyâs gaze softened, a hint of relief flashing across his face, and then he leaned in, his lips finding yours in a kiss that was desperate and filled with everything you both had been holding back for so long. His arms wrapped around you tighter, and before you could process what was happening, his hands were lifting you off the ground, your thighs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he pulled you closer, his lips never leaving yours.
You heard the whistling before you could think about it, the sound of someone teasing. Maybe it was Jake. Maybe it was Coyote. Maybe even Bob, though it didnât matter. None of it mattered because all you could feel, all you could think about, was the heat of Bradleyâs kiss, the way his arms made you feel safe and wanted, the way he was home in a way nothing else could ever be.
In that moment, there was no questionâno more uncertainty, no more fear. You were with him. And that was all that mattered.
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