#and your idiot kids decide to marry each other

[tweedfrog]

This was how Alyssa Velaryon was looking in the background when Jaehaerys and Alysanne got married

[awriterinthenight]

"I Might Even Be In Love With You"

requested: anonymous

words: 1233

warning: swearing, that's really it besides the two idiots being oblivious af

summary: Fred Weasley is obsessed with you, a Hufflepuff student, but he's too afraid to admit it, and you're too afraid to admit you love him too

If you looked up the word 'obsessed' in the dictionary, you would find a very distressed picture of Fred Weasley. Fred was obsessed, and every synonym for the word. His entire day revolved around a Hufflepuff girl, who was now the only reason he believed the world still spun. Fred now truly believed nothing mattered before he met her. All that mattered was that she was here now and it was as if he was attached by a red string that kept him tethered to her.

You were everything to Fred and he made sure to keep a firm grip on you. He would be damned if he let you be the one that got away. He might've taken this a bit too literally, since he always had a hand on you.

When you sat together at breakfast when you snuck over to the Gryffindor table, Fred either had his arm around you, or his hand on your thigh, which was becoming more common the longer you knew him. When you hung out with your friends his arm was either around your waist, or he was holding your hand. In class together he would move your chair closer to his, once again resting his hand on your leg, or his arm on the back of your chair.

Fred was notorious for being late to class, but you didn't know that. Fred would walk with you, his hand on the small of your back to guide you through the corridor, to all your classes.

"Aren't you going to be late to your own classes?" you would ask, concerned he would be late, even though he'd rather skip class just to be with you, but this was his best option.

He knew you'd tell him to stop walking you to class if he told you the truth, so he continued to lie, "My class is just down the hall, it's fine, love," he would say, starting to call you 'love' more often.

You reluctantly accepted that he would walk you to class everyday as long as he wasn't late for his own classes. Fred had become your own personal shadow, which you didn't hate. You enjoyed Fred's presence, and how wherever he was you were immediately drawn to him. It was his laugh, or the way he made everyone around him laugh. The smile that was always on his face, or the way he put a smile on everyone's face. Everything about him was perfect to you.

He made you smile, laugh, feel safe around him, and every time he touched you in some way it gave you butterflies. You had the biggest crush, if it was even that anymore, it was more like you were irreparably in love with him. The only thing was that even though it seemed obvious, you still didn't think Fred returned your feelings for him. Anyone sane would say it was obvious, but to you Fred was always laughing and joking with everyone, the same way he was with you, just maybe less touchy, so you didn't know if he liked you or not, and decided to play it safe.

Luckily your friends were also fed up with you and Fred doing the world's most complicated dance to avoid saying your feelings for each other while also putting them all on display for each other. Angelina was currently trying to knock some sense into you, as the two of you hung out in her dorm room that you snuck into.

"When will you accept that he's obsessed with you, and you both are crazy in love with each other, and will one day be married with 5 kids," Angelina said, annoyed by how you were so blind to all of this.

You let out a sigh, "We don't actually know that, and shut up with the whole 5 kids thing, I swear you add one more each time we have this conversation," you told her, putting your head in your hands.

Angelina was moments away from knocking some sense into you, literally, but lucky for you Katie walked in the room, "Katie, please tell our oblivious friend here, that Fred Weasley is in love with her, and there's no denying it," Angelina said, desperate to get her friend to finally come to the realisation.

Katie looked like she'd just been told the most outrageous thing ever, which she just had, "How do you not see that he's completely in love with you. I mean he's late to class almost everyday because of you-" she cut herself off, but not fast enough to realise her mistake.

Your head sprung up, shocked by her words, "What do you mean he's late to class because of me?"

"Well, the thing is," Katie started, looking a bit nervous, "He told us not to tell you because he knew if you found out you'd stop him from walking you to class, so he had us not tell you," she explained, looking apologetic for letting the secret slip.

"Wait, but why would he do that unless," you said, the lightbulb in your head finally turning on, "I'll be right back," you were not going to be back actually. Angelina was finally relieved that you finally realised, so much so that she was on the verge of throwing a party.

You found Fred talking to George in an empty corridor. Fred saw you and ushered for George to leave, so that it was just you and Fred, "Hello, love, what can I do for you?" he asked, leaning against the wall with his trademark smile on his face.

"You lied to me," you stated, causing him to look confused, then realise what you were talking about.

Fred continued to smile at you, but pushed off the wall moving closer to you, "I'm sorry, love, but I just knew if I told you the truth you'd make me stop walking you to class," he defended.

You crossed your arms, "But why did you do it?" you asked, needing to confirm the truth before you said it out loud.

"Lie to you? I told you why, you'd make me stop-" he said, deflecting from the question, since he knew what you truly meant.

"No, I mean why did you walk me to class even if you knew you'd be late."

Fred let out a breath he didn't realise he was holding in, "I-I, I don't know I just like walking you to class, since I-I," he said, continuing to stumble a bit, which was unusual, "I really like you, I might even be in love with you," he confessed.

You were shocked and at a loss for words, but tried to pull yourself together as best as possible, "I really like you too, love you even," you confessed also, beaming from how overjoyed you felt.

Fred moved even closer to you, wrapping his hands around your waist, leaning in a bit, "There's usually something two people do when they're in love with each other," Fred hinted at playfully.

"Oh yeah, and what's that," you teased. Fred wasted no time connecting your lips together. Your hands found the back of his head, running them through his hair, while his hands stayed on your waist. Both of your torments were finally over. You could be in love forever, and in the words of Angelina get married and have 6 kids.

[megxplryxb]

Dance with me Forever

Pairings - Steve Harrington x Fem!HopperReader

Warnings: None. Absolute fluff, Idiots in love, Mutual Pining, Friends to lovers, Jopper Wedding

The hot summer sun had finally set on a beautiful Saturday evening in the middle of July. The sound of champagne glasses clinking echoed throughout the romantic lake house ballroom, lit up in pinks and purples as guests celebrated the marriage of Jim Hopper and Joyce Byers. The couple had finally decided to tie the knot and unite their families once Vecna had been defeated, ending the nightmare of the Upside Down once and for all. It had been a long four years, continuously battling monsters from another dimension, always wondering when evil would rear it’s ugly head again but this time felt different, like there was finally peace in the mystical little town of Hawkins, Indiana.

The last few years had changed no one more than Steve Harrington. Long gone was the arrogant, rich boy you’d known in High School, having been cut off by his parents and left heartbroken by Nancy Wheeler, he had become somewhat of an outcast. Never in a million years did he imagine his life turning out quite like it had. Steve always thought he’d end up like his Father, marrying some girl for convenience instead of love, being nothing more than a suit for some company and have a mistress in every city he traveled to. Steve was more than grateful he hadn’t gone down the same path and he knew he had you, Robin and the kids to thank for that.

He was sat at a table with Robin, Vickie, Eddie, Chrissy and Nancy, all of whom were engrossed in conversation about how sweet Hopper’s speech had been and how emotional it was when the Chief of Police shed a few tears while gushing about his new Wife, your new Stepmom. Steve couldn’t exactly say he had heard much of Jim’s speech himself, too busy gazing at you sitting at the top table with your family, holding back your own tears, laughing with your siblings, El, Will and Jonathan. He hadn’t seen you all day as you were too busy doing bridesmaid duties, making sure everything was perfect for the ceremony but when you walked down the aisle, holding your bouquet of flowers, smelling like lavender, he swore his heart stopped when you looked his way and smiled at him. You were breathtaking, literally and figuratively, the girl of his dreams. Eddie had teased his friend for how red his cheeks had gotten, knowing that the former King of Hawkins was head over heels for you and that you felt the same about Steve. Chrissy had intervened, telling her boyfriend to lay off with the teasing but she too secretly wondered why Steve didn’t just tell you how he felt. It was obvious to everyone that you loved each other.

It’s not that Steve didn’t want to tell you, he’d almost told you twice before on the brink of death. The first time being when you were stuck in the Russian base under the Starcourt mall, the second time being when you were all preparing to battle Vecna for the final time. But he’d made a promise to your Dad two years prior, after that night in the Junkyard when you first became friends that friendship was all it was ever going to be between you. Steve didn’t blame Hopper for wanting better for his daughter, didn’t blame Jim for thinking he was exactly like his Dad back then. But he wished the Chief of Hawkins could see him for who he was now and not the asshole he was four years ago.

After dinner was done and all the pictures had been taken, you took yourself out to the garden with a glass of champagne in hand, glancing at Steve before you made your escape outside. He looked so handsome in his tux, the tux you’d helped him pick out several weeks ago when he asked you to go shopping with him. You hadn’t spoken to him all day, having been avoiding him like the plague for the better part of a week when he mentioned that he was planning to bring a date to the wedding. You had tried your best to not let it bother you, the thought of Steve with some pretty girl on his arm while you were all alone and you’d be lying if you said you weren't just a tiny bit relieved when he'd shown up all by himself.

You knew your Father had spoken to Steve about you, warned him against asking you out on several occasions and even though you were angry that Steve obeyed him, it kind of made you love him even more, because the Steve you'd known in High School wouldn't have been so respectful. Sometimes though, late at night when you couldn’t sleep, you wished he’d climb through your bedroom window so you both could give in to your feelings just one time.

As Joyce danced with her new Husband, she couldn't help but frown at Steve who was standing talking to Murray at the bar. He'd left his table to get another drink after the meal, not wanting to be surrounded by all the happy couples while he not so secretly pinned for you. Joyce had always liked Steve, saw the goodness in him that her Husband couldn't and she knew how the both of you felt about each other.

"Hop, are you ever going to give that poor kid a break?" She asks as Hopper let out a heavy sigh, knowing exactly who she was referring to.

"Joyce, please not tonight, it's our wedding for Christ sake." He begs as his new wife nodded in agreement. It wasn't the first time they'd discussed this matter.

"Exactly! It's a day full of love and happiness and your daughter is out there miserable and alone because she's terrified to talk to the boy she's crazy about in case she upsets you!" She huffs, frustrated at the Chief's stubbornness.

"Oh come on, I'm not that bad!" He defends as Joyce rolls her eyes. "What about the crap you pulled on Mike when he and El got together? The kid thought you were going to murder him Jim.”

"But I didn't! See, he's alive and well, having a great time!" Jim points to his younger daughter and her boyfriend dancing with their friends.

"And what about Steve, huh? When are you going to admit that you were wrong about him?" The bride asks, raising her brows.

"Joyce...."

"Jim Hopper, that boy has helped save our children's lives more times than I care to count. He would do anything for OUR daughter, he’s shown it time and time again. You know he’s nothing like his Father. They love each other, Jim. So quit being a god damn pain in everyone's ass and go talk to him, please?" Joyce begs, giving her new Husband a small, hopeful smile as he closes his eyes and sighs defeatedly.

"Fine, alright. I'm going."

Steve is nursing a glass of champagne, trying to look somewhat interested in Murray's ramblings when he see's Hopper approaching him at the bar. Jim lets out a small cough, before giving Murray a nod to give them a minute alone and Steve nervously waits for Jim to speak.

"Oh shit, what'd you do?" Murray mutters to Steve before downing his glass of whiskey, giving him a hopeful pat on the back before going to talk to the new Mrs. Hopper.

Jim leans back against the bar, fixing his suit jacket as he tries to think about what to say the boy beside him. He knows he should apologise for being an asshole to him but it's his wedding day and he wasn't apologising to anyone. Not today at least.

"Harrington, why is my daughter out there by herself?" He asks, pointing to you, still strolling through the garden alone.

"I uh, I don't know Sir, I haven't talked to her all day." Steve replies, wondering if this was some kind of trick.

"Well, maybe you should be a gentleman and go keep her company, huh?" The Chief suggests and Steve is really suspicious now.

"I'm sorry, I can't tell if you're being serious or not?" Steve questions honestly, not trying to offend your Dad in any way.

"When am I ever not serious about anything that has to do with my daughters?" He asks, looking straight at Steve. "Never, sir." He answers back.

There's silence for a moment as the two most important men in your life pause to look at you. You stare back at them, astounded that they seem to be having a conversation without your father looking like he was going to kill Steve.

"Do you love my daughter, Steve?" Jim asks, both of them still watching you in the distance. Hopper already knows the answer, he’s known it for quite sometime. He saw how Steve protected you during the battle in Starcourt, heard about how he looked after you and El when everyone thought he was dead. He’d have to thank him for that one day but not now. This was hard enough.

Steve didn’t have to think twice before answering the question, even if it meant getting choked out or knocked unconscious by Jim Hopper.

"More than anything in this world." Steve admits, smiling brightly as his heart swells with adoration for you. Hopper nods then, placing an approving hand on Steve's shoulder.

"Then go make her happy." He says, giving the boy the smallest of smiles as Steve begins to cross the ballroom floor.

"Hey, Harrington!" Jim yells, as Steve looks back at him, hoping it wasn't really a trick all this time. "You're a good kid." He admits, as the boy nods an appreciative thank you, finally making his way to the garden to find you.

Joyce smiles at Steve as she walks towards her Husband, wrapping her arms around him tightly, before kissing him. "You're a good man, Jim Hopper."

He sighs heavily before he begins to laugh. "Happy wife, happy life."

Steve can hear his heart beating out of his chest as he slowly approaches you, watching you in awe as the moonlit sky makes your skin glow. You haven't noticed him yet, too busy gazing at the stars above, wishing for your own fairytale ending. Your hair which had been in an up-style all day was now hanging below your shoulders and Steve thought you had never looked more beautiful than right now.

"You could catch a cold out here you know?" Steve whispers from behind you, already removing his suit jacket to cover your shoulders before you even turn to face him.

"Hey stranger, I feel like I haven't talked to you all day." You smile, turning to greet him, embracing him in a warm hug as you both stay that way for what seems like several minutes.

"Yeah, I know. I missed you, Hopper." He admits, as you blush. "I missed you too, Harrington."

The song inside changes to Take My Breath Away by Berlin and Steve knows it's one of your favourites, he bought you the album for your birthday and it's still the most played tape in your car. You both watch as everyone begins to fill the dance floor back inside the lake house and Steve swallows hard before extending his hand to you.

"Will you dance with me, out here?" He asks as you nod your head, happily reaching for his hand as he pulls you in closer to him. You nervously wrap an arm around Steve's neck, inhaling his cologne and shampoo all at once. He always smelled so good. He places his other hand gently on the small of your back, intertwining your fingers together as you begin to dance slowly to the music playing inside. There was silence for a few moments before Steve cleared his throat to speak again.

"You know, I really could’ve used you at our table earlier. Nancy ditched us to sit with Jonathan the minute the speeches were over, so I got stuck with all the loved up couples, it was totally awful.” He jokes, referring to Eddie, Chrissy, Robin and Vickie.

"I thought you were going to bring a date?" You question, trying to hide the jealousy in your voice when you ask.

"Oh yeah, I was thinking about asking someone but I didn't in the end." He frowns and you bite your lip, wanting to know more.

"Why not?"

"Cause her Dad would've kicked my ass." He replies, as you let out a small giggle. Stomach filling with butterflies as he gazes at you.

“That’s too bad, I have a feeling she would’ve said yes anyway.” You whisper in his ear, leaning your head on his shoulder as he mumbles “Oh really? Well in that case, the ass kicking would’ve been worth it.”

"I saw him talking to you, thought you were a goner for sure." You tease as Steve shakes his head.

"I knew I'd be ok, too many witnesses around." He jokes, as you both laugh.

"I'd have come to your rescue eventually, if i thought it looked like you were in trouble, you know?" You admit and he nods his head gratefully.

"I know, honey." Honey. Was he trying to kill you?

"Seriously though, he didn't upset you, did he?" You ask as you continue to dance to the music.

"No actually, the total opposite." Steve smirks as you scrunch your nose.

"What do you mean?"

"He asked me why you were out here alone, told me to come and keep you company." He reveals as your eyes widened in surprise.

“Really?”

"I know, I was shocked too but I think Joyce said something to him because she was giving him the death stare the whole time he was talking to me." Steve chuckles and you remind yourself to thank your Stepmom later.

"He asked me something else too." Steve states, swinging you around.

"Oh god, what was it?" You ask, still spinning.

"He wanted to know if I was in love with his daughter." He says, as you fall back in to him in shock, placing your hands on his chest as he wraps his arms around your waist. You feel sick with excitement, like a kid at Christmas about to unwrap her presents under the tree.

“And…what did you tell him?”

"That he had nothing to worry about, El is way too young for me." He jokes as you smack him playfully on the chest.

"Steve! I'm being serious, what did you really say to him?"

“I told him that I do, more than I’ve ever loved anybody.” Steve admits as your eyes begin to water.

“I love you too, Steve.” You reveal, trying to hold back your tears as Steve cups your face gently, placing his forehead lightly against yours.

“You looked so beautiful today honey. When I saw you walk down that aisle, I thought, Christ, I could just marry her right now.” He smirks as you bump your nose with his.

“Careful Harrington, a few more compliments like that and I might just have to kiss you.” You whisper, wrapping your arms around his neck as he hovers his lips over yours.

“Yeah, I’m sort of counting on it.” Steve says, finally crashing his lips with yours, not giving a damn who sees. You were finally all his.

[junespriince]

Wally: I sit here today because my uncle retired and you guys just dragged me in here, I didn't have a choice. I was working my own city, the Titans, and sometimes helped other heroes and now I have to work here and come to almost daily meetings? How can I get fired? Can marrying your son in Vegas make you let me leave? I want out of this.

Bruce: the dimension overlord said you must be here, we need a speedster or balance will be distributed.

Wally: how about you disturb deez nuts old man. I don't give two donkeys pucks about this "balance" when I'm forced to look at my two biggest enemies all day.

Oliver: I know Barry raised you, but could you have manners kid?

Wally: can you stop getting pegged by my therapist?

Oliver, blushing as if the league doesn't already know this:

Wally: no? Okay, then shut up.

Bruce: this is a bit excessive, West.

Wally: says the guy who fights his ex father in law/enemy shirtless. I don't know about you, but if my son grandfather challenged me to a duel the shirt stays on.

Bruce: how?

Wally: what does "dating your son" mean to you? Self proclaimed greatest detective over here lady and gents, give him some applause for being stupid. Though, with all the smart women you attracted I guess it has it charms to a certain group.

Clark: a lot of sass today, huh?

Wally: and rightly so Mr. Kent—

Clark: kid, you've known me for years and marrying my kid, it's uncle Clark now.

Wally: sir, I was raised my a Midwestern woman, it's sir, ma'am, and whatnot, deal with it. Anyways, it's rightly deserved, I'm losing a lot of precious time spending it here because Gotham's playboy bicycle decided now he'll have a standard and not fix this problem by helping the dimensions asshat get laid. Do you understand how much this cut into my personal life outside of heroing, Bruce?

Bruce: well—

Wally: shut up sir, you don't because unlike you I don't have a son I was blackmailed into adopting that can run the business, no, I'm an average man here working a real job, and trying to make time for my boyfriend. We get it, you're an emo furry with a tragic backstory that makes it hard to emote, well bucko guess what, I had shitty parents, uncle Hal thinks I have no friends, and what else... OH yeah! I was stuck in the speed force trying to get out and everyone I loved stop trying to save me and assumed I was dead. So, fire me!

Bruce, and his ego™: no. Balance needs to be kept.

Wally: I will make you regret this choice.

Both of them glaring at each other:

Diana: well, at least meetings will be interesting.

Hal: in my defense you didn't have friends over when I visited so how was i supposed to know...

Oliver: didn't Barry told you one time to come because Wally was at my house having a sleepover with Roy?

Hal: ... Okay I'mma be so real right now, I heard come over and the rest was white noise.

Wally: ew. I'm right here.

Hal: kid, hush, the adults are talking.

Wally: ... I'm 29, dude bye. I'm done with this. *Gets up and leaves*

Arthur: he has grown up so much.

Bruce, who knows Wally at his worst teen years: yeah, he's gotten worse.

Oliver: so about this fighting shirtless with your ex father in law.

Bruce: so about you getting pegged by our therapist.

Oliver:

Bruce:

Oliver: I hate you.

Bruce: yeah, yeah, love you too idiot.

[thezombieprostitute]

The sheriff likes how you always got a pie baking in your window. He likes that every time he sees you, you got your apron on. He likes that you smile and wave at his cruiser. He likes all the way you make him shift in his seat.

The only thing he doesn't like, is that you're not waiting at home for him.

Summary: Lee has regrets to deal with and decisions to make.

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, Depression, Thoughts of cheating, Unhappy marriage. Please let me know if I missed any!

Lee's made a lot of decisions in his life that he regrets. He'll swear up and down that he had only the best of intentions when he signed up for the police force. When he decided to become sheriff. But no one knows better than him how far his morals have fallen.

But not being your man was the biggest regret of his life.

To become sheriff, he needed financial and social support. The kind he could get from her family. He courted her, got on her father's good side, eventually marrying her. He honestly thought that's all love was, that that was the purpose of a marriage. Now he's got all the resources he needs to keep his position, barring his sister royally fucking things up for him.

But then he met you.

Him and his little family were making an appearance at the local auction to raise money for the church. People brought a bunch of homemade goods and foods. Sometimes it was simply pine cone crafts that really did look pretty. Other times it was Granny Russell's special chicken livers. Lee always thought only an idiot would turn down that specialty.

But then you showed up, with a stack of pies.

You were something to look at, Lee was sure no one could deny that. But you were also so sweet. He was certain your kindness, patience, couldn't be real. No one was that sweet all the time. You were too new to the town for him to really know well, but given how the people who did know you reacted, he could imagine you were worth knowing. He made sure to buy one of the pies you'd brought, intent to use it as an ice breaker. He'd figure out your angle, how you could play so nice.

But when he looked into your eyes, he was a goner.

He's never seen such beautiful, kind eyes. He swears they were sparkling. For the first time in his life, Lee was tongue-tied. His wife had to subtly elbow him in the ribs to stop his staring. He definitely got an earful that night before sleeping on the couch. The entire time you were talking to his wife, his kids, he felt at a loss. Like there was something more to life than status. His wife set him straight, though.

But he kept seeing you around town and the feelings kept coming back.

You were always busy with your baking. Always kind to everyone. Always waving at him and smiling. He feels in his bones that you should be his. That you could give him the actual warmth that storybooks about love had promised. Not the performative care that he and his wife did for each other. You'd genuinely enjoy spending time with him, with the kids. Not complaining about a "life wasted" like his wife.

But cheating or worse, a divorce, would kill his election odds.

Every day he can't be with you hurts him. He takes up drinking to try to ease his misery until his wife dumps all of his bottles, citing the upcoming election. The people aren't gonna vote for an angry drunk. Lee thanks her, honestly thanks her, and it catches her off guard. If he can't have you, he's gonna try to do better by his own wife. Maybe it'll help ease the pain of not having you and your natural sweetness in his life.

But then Hal Carter comes to town.

He's a tramp, everyone knows it. He's a drifter working in different towns as he tries getting to some friends of his further south. He claims to have a college degree but Lee doesn't want to believe it. Hal is young, strong and, according to all the old ladies at the church, very helpful. Everything Lee is not. Hal hasn't stopped showering you with attention, attention Lee knows you deserve.

But it should be Lee making you happy.

Holy wah, that got away from me! This was not supposed to go on so long!

Tagging: @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @ronearoundblindly

[thelovelywriteress]

➷ Night without pillow

▶︎sᴀᴋᴜʀᴀ xғ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

────────────────────────────

────────────────────────────

╰┈➤ After so much nagging you are finally in Sakura's home. Now what events this beautiful or funny night at his home will take?

────────────────────────────

Sakura was pretty nervous to have you in his home. No wonder it take you so much time to make him take you his home.

You were pretty excited and Sakura almost hated it. He told you there is nothing special about his house, so why are you smiling like some kid in amusement park?

You enter his house and fact word that your mouth was 'small'. Sakura almost hit you but then you added 'cosy' too and now that cutesy word is stuck in his mind.

It was small apartment but you still happily look around while Sakura just gaze at you from main room and soon you joined him too.

"Finished your tour?" Sakura ask in sadistic manner but your next sentence just made him almost exploded due to flusteration.

"Was just looking around at the place I got to live after marriage." Oh boy, I am suprise how he didn't just choke after your blunt reply.

"W-What marriage?"

"Don't you know idiot, people who become couples later married each other too. You are just so innocent Sakura-chan!"

Of course he know that's what couples are supposed to do but many break apart even before reaching twenty. But still his heart flushes at the thought of you being his wife. He would die to experience that part of life.

Soon night arrived and the question he despised the most, came up.

"Do you got some extra pillows?"

"Actually I don't have pillow at all."

Sakura hide his face feeling ashamed. He didn't even have such a basic thing, what else will you expect from him now?

You, on other hands was confused. Did he have any problems taking pillows? You did question him but he simply replied never own one.

"Why you poor child?" You tear up and hug him with your hands continuously patting his hair for comfort.

Sakura was blushing message. He can never come embarrassment he get from your physical affections.

"Don't worry we will spend whole night talking without any sleep and then we wouldn't need pillow anyways!"

Sakura was confused but he let out a brief smile. When it comes to talking no one beats you and now you need to make Sakura feel interested, you will definitely do your best (talking).

You both side against wall, under window as you started to told him about some cat you saw on roadside two days and so on. You didn't even notice but then you heard light snoring.

As expected Sakura had fallen sleep. You quickly take a glance around empty house, pulled his head on your shoulder and then put your cheeks on his soft hair and with this you both fall sleep under the shade of moonlight.

At morning you wake before Sakura. He was still sleeping but now he even had his hands wrapped around you. With tinted cheeks you smile at his gesture.

You was about to pat his head when you realised about if he never owned pillow, he probably never even sleep on one. And for some reason a embarrassing solution also came to your mind that made you almost awkwardly giggled to yourself.

Sakura wake feeling his head being stroked and his face on something. . .soft? He fully grasped the situation he was in and break down with his face red as tomato.

His face was on your chest and for some reason you didn't seem to be mind,"Oh? You wake." You nonchalantly ask,"What the hell?" He yelled as you scold him for being so loud in morning.

He quickly take his head up, questioning you about previous position you was in. He knew you were nonchalant but this was too much!

"You said you never owned pillow . So this means you never sleep on one. So I decided to make you rest on softest pillow around."

You said with the wink as his face remained red. With a quick giggled you again pulled his face against your chest as he almost scream while you just ruffle his hair in amusement.

After that he was afraid to spend night with you alone. . . .and especially if their weren't any pillows around."

────────────────────────────

Yeah guys so I have watched first episode of Wind Breaker and safe to say fall for our mc at first sight. 😌🫶

Like Sakura is literally my type of boy. Can resist a punch but no a kiss?🤭 Definitely.

Okay so at same time I am watching Fruits Basket too and he reminds me of Kyo too!😗

Maybe I will write about him or someone else from series too, I don't know (⁠◔⁠‿⁠◔⁠)

────────────────────────────

[lo1k-diamonds]

Stellar Behavior 💜 Part 7 (end)

"I said I like it fucking quiet.”

PAIRING: Officer!Yoongi x Mafia (f)reader

SUMMARY: Yoongi thought it would be bliss from now on, but not yet. Not until you both own the city.

WORD COUNT: 4.8k

GENRE: Gangster AU, Law AU, enemies to lovers, smut

RATING: R (explicit)

WARNINGS: angst, plotting, kidnapping, blood, violence, knifes, guns, physical violence, death. (Am I forgetting something?)

A.N. Ahh, no way I could just let them be happy, okay? Not without suffering first, it's my style 🤣 Again, infinite thank yous to @moonleeai and @downbad4yoongi for helping me around the clock and being incredible betas! Check out their fics too! Now get ready 😎

Masterlist | Masterpost | AO3 | Wattpad | < Previous Chapter

Yoongi didn't know life could be like this. Once, he had been sold on that dream; it was the reason why he got married, bought a house, and started on the force. He wanted a loving home and family, and everyone told him to follow those steps to get there.

You were everything he had ever dreamed, immersing him in a bliss he never thought possible. That day, at the charity event, you took charge of things. You left with him, took him home, and spent the next twenty-four hours making up for the lost time. Your sheets didn't witness just your bodies reattuning to each other, but also the other moments when your hearts did. When you told him so much more about what you did, what you had in motion, what you proposed to secure both his and your positions, and how you planned on providing the best for your unborn child.

“Ours,” he corrected gently, kissing the back of your fingers.

You looked up with your head on his chest, and a moment later, you just nodded, “Ours.”

At that moment, he was willing to compromise for you — whatever you needed. He just didn't think it would come in the form of you not letting him leave.

He all but moved in with you soon after, and at 34 weeks, he believed he'd never leave. You adored snuggling up to him at all times of day, especially because he massaged you all over while you talked. Someone almost busted a plan of yours? You could vent while he thumbed the ball of your foot. A politician was acting ridiculous? Your hands and arms needed to let go of the stress you accumulated during the day. You had stood for hours at a charity event? Those idiots should be sued for having you standing like that; your legs needed the soothing of his fingers. You were still on your computer when he arrived home from work? Your shoulders needed to be relieved of the tension.

He still had to work and there was no way you'd pause your work, not when you had a grand plan to own the city, just like he suggested. You had decided you didn’t need to excel in every business you had to control the city, especially because the top was naturally the first to be challenged. You were too branched out, and it wouldn’t pay off — if you tried to dominate everyone, you were inviting multiple enemies to ally themselves to throw you down. Not even Yoongi would be able to help you, despite him assuring you he would. 

“I’m not interested in destroying what makes you our good half,” you had chuckled when he brought it up again. You looked beautiful under the dim lights of your bedroom, naked with your baby bump up, half lying on him in bed. This was something he couldn’t do without anymore. “We’re stronger if they don’t suspect you have hidden interests. If they think I’m a woman alone, I seem fragile. A kid will help. It’s all about finding the right balance, because if I’m too weak, they’ll destroy me. You can be our secret weapon.”

Your teasing grin as your tongue peeked between your teeth made him laugh. Ultimately, you knew your way around that world far better than he did. He’d always trust you with it.

Your strategy was to have insurance. If you had dirt on everyone and monopolized at least that market, you would be as safe as possible. Your downfall would just be too risky all around, and it would be less likely that your enemies would become friends trying to overthrow you. You wouldn’t be a significant enough threat to alarm other organizations, but you’d easily manipulate things in the shadows — everyone won.

You had started with medium management, as you liked to call it, and worked your way up. You already had a pretty big web of people working for you on the inside in various industries — other mob families, prisons, the police, the military, the entertainment and media conglomerates, even hospitals and pharmaceutical companies, without mentioning politics. Your tycoon status allowed you to keep an eye on the echelon, which meant you had everything covered. A politician wanted to do something you didn’t like? You knew of their kids’ DUIs, and the scandal was just too easy. Someone didn’t want to fundraise for the Mayor you had chosen? You had reports of companies faking quality control reports for products or negligence in the hospitals; you would leverage the media to destroy their business overnight. The media heads themselves didn’t want to cooperate? Too easy to leak footage of them in brothels or orgies that could ruin their entire reputation. And all mob families had their weaknesses; having people in the prisons and low-level thugs meant you’d know what you needed to keep them at bay. In essence, a network that gave you just enough to have leverage but not enough to be a direct threat to anyone.

He admired you for handling everything with such zeal and trusted you absolutely to take care of things. On his side, he was more worried about assuring the one thing you were most likely to overlook: your safety. First, he became intimately involved with your security details. All of your staff answered to him, which he liked. On top of that, he had his officers keeping an eye on you as well. Some probably suspected this wasn't about a case, but Yoongi didn't care as long as you were safe.

You had worked hard all over those months to carry out your master plan. It was ambitious, and if the pieces fell into place, not even Jae Seong Seok could touch you. The frustration was in getting the last piece of information — if you could find out who he was working with now, you'd be able to use your network and have him in your hand. But whoever he was working with, he was keeping it under wraps.

“It's ridiculous!” You whined, despite Yoongi massaging your shoulders. “It's a better kept secret than who the President's mistress is! Fuck!”

You jumped up from your office chair in a burst of anger, only to groan and take support on the desk. Yoongi was instantly behind you as you rubbed your swollen tummy; he didn't even flinch when you gave him a look between petulance and tiredness.

“It doesn’t matter—”

“It fucking does,” you insisted, falling back into him when he hugged you from behind. “Without knowing who is doing the Commissioner's bidding, we’re blind to his plans. It means we have a blind spot and—”

You held your breath, scrunching your nose with instant relief. He had just taken the weight out of your strained back by raising your belly, and you could breathe freely for a moment.

“Is that okay?” 

His voice was a whisper to your ear that had you sighing praises. He kissed your neck the whole time until he had to let go slowly, gently, distracting you with his lips on your skin before you’d get grumpy again.

“Didn’t you have someone on his team?”

“I lost them a couple of weeks after I told you that. He took exile in Heuksando last I heard.”

Your head fell back into his shoulder and he hummed, “I’m sure we’ll know something soon. Between your people and mine, we’re bound to hear or notice something. It’s a matter of time.” You pursed your lips, rubbing your belly again; time was a luxury you did not have. “Besides,” he spun you so you’d face him. “He’s not stupid. He wouldn’t just attempt to get rid of you; he probably knows we’re together.”

Your expression didn’t smooth, “For as long as he does bullshit without us knowing, we won't own the city.”

He nuzzled you, “He’s just one man. One tiny, meaningless man. Don’t worry about it.”

You didn’t seem fully convinced but you definitely relaxed in his arms that night, and the few nights after. Yoongi believed what he had told you: if the both of you were blinded to the Commissioner’s movements, then he was to yours too. You were stronger than him, you were together. You were bound to win.

But that night when he drove to the Aether at the maximum speed his car allowed, he wondered if he’d been too naive. If it was right to think that owning 98% of the city was enough to protect you and your child, only to learn the worst way possible that it could all fall through the cracks.

He arrived at the club, and from the outside it might have looked like the security were handling a typical problem, like a rowdy customer. When Thoma greeted him at the entrance, Yoongi followed him hurriedly, his blood freezing inside his veins. Your head of security didn’t just make that face for no reason.

Still, Yoongi couldn’t have believed it until he saw it with his own eyes. Before he got to your office, he passed your security and staff being checked by medics in the hallway, some even bleeding on the floor, almost passed out. Yet, when he entered your office, the situation dawned on him.

You had put up a fight. Your office was completely upside down, with your screen and papers on the floor, fallen chair, and broken glass everywhere. There was blood on the floor, which he kneeled to see. His fists closed instantly at the thought of you getting hurt, but maybe you had hurt them instead before they took you. You were good with your knife. He looked around; he couldn’t see it anywhere.

He got up, “Who the fuck?”

He asked simply, quietly, and Thoma answered, “Look at the back of the door.”

Yoongi turned, his dark eyes scanning the open door for traces of it being used or handled some way. His long, black raincoat billowed behind him as he moved and quickly used a glove to push the door closed.

I also prefer it quiet.

The scribbles or the paper glued to the door made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

“Does it mean anything to you?”

Yoongi’s eyes were the color of death, “Yes, and it does for you, too. You’re going to do exactly as I say.”

Thoma disagreed with Yoongi’s instructions, but he’d carry them out anyway. Yoongi didn’t care about the man’s opinion; it wasn’t him who was about to lose his whole life to a bug he didn't squish properly.

When Yoongi had decided to help you back when it was a conscious decision. Not just to step into your life, but to stay in it. To make it better. To use what he had at his disposal to do so. He didn’t regret it for a second, not even now. Some would say he was reaping what he sowed, but that was a stupid understanding of the situation. A coward’s subservient view on what was happening — when they touched you, they knew there were only two possible outcomes. And for Yoongi, there was only one. 

Of course, Thoma didn’t like calling the police and reporting the assault or that you were kidnapped. But the police responded to Yoongi in that area, so that wasn’t the problem. He didn’t like that he was to play dumb and not tell them who had done it. Eventually, they would be shown footage that Officer Jung could recognize, all to buy Yoongi the right amount of time. 

Because to Yoongi there was only one outcome. As he stopped in a hidden alley without cameras, he opened the trunk of his car and pulled the bottom to reveal a secret compartment where he had an arsenal. He picked and loaded a pistol, screwed in the silencer, and hid it along with magazines under his long raincoat. Then, he made his way to the back of the Evgeni Sports Center.

Yoongi refused one of the possible outcomes as if it wasn’t possible. That was maybe why he entered the building casually and unnoticed amidst a football game, making the big crowd watching it on the flat screen completely wild. The beer was plentiful, as were the cheers, and he was able to swiftly enter the kitchen in the back, where the staff didn’t dare look at him. He was a man with a purpose and only one option.

When he reached the back door and went down the stairs, he grabbed his pistol and started his work. There was only one justice down there — the one he inflicted himself. Big or small, he didn’t care. People fell like flies before the commotion began and even then, to reach him was a nearly impossible task. He was an agent of death dealing it swiftly to everyone who had dared to condone this heinous crime. To touch you at any point would have been dangerous, but now? It was a death wish — the only possible outcome.

Blood tainted the walls at his passage while he shot, punched, and kicked whoever dared to stand in his way to find you. He noticed the heavy metal doors, knowing they hid bullshit that wasn’t meant to be found, but he continued. It would be a shit show, but he didn’t care. His officers would show and turn the place upside down. Weapons? Drugs? Torturing people? He huffed and wiped the blood off his knuckles; all fine and dandy, but not what he was looking for.

He didn’t mean to, but he ended up cleaning that floor like it was a military operation. No one but people being tortured were left alive in his wake; no witnesses, no surprises. All he wanted was you, he’d leave once he got what he came for.

He held his gun up and in position as he faced the last door at the end of the corridor. It took him one second to calculate the odds of finding you there. Then he risked it and opened it, only for a kick to hit his hands hard.

He grunted, and although he didn’t instantly loosen his grip on the weapon, a punch to his back made his form crumble.

A series of punches made him grunt and raise his arms to defend himself, and a careful dance ensued. Yoongi almost lost his patience as he handled that single amazing enemy, but then two things happened: his pistol fell to the floor, and he saw you.

You were sitting on a lonesome chair in the middle of that humid, dark storage room, tied and pale. He instantly saw your shining eyes and the hairs glued to your forehead with sweat, your chest heaving tensely over your swollen belly, and knew he hadn’t come fast enough. He needed to get to you.

Those fuckers just had to keep their strongest guy next to you. It pissed Yoongi off; he much rather shoot him too. But he was forced to fight and manage the situation, not letting him get near you or the gun.

After a succession of punches and counters, Yoongi landed a punch on the guy’s ear and made a judgment call that put everything in jeopardy — he ran to you. Your eyes widened, seeing the guy behind Yoongi rush for the gun on the floor. He was dizzy from the punch, and your brain struggled — even if you warned him, Yoongi would never make it back in time to grab it.

So you shook your leg frantically, “The knife!”

Yoongi rushed to kneel before you and grab the knife, thinking to use it to set you free, but you kicked him as hard as you could.

A gunshot echoed and Yoongi’s breath caught as he fell back to the floor. For a second, he thought his life was over — not because he had been shot, but because you had.

But a split second was enough to hear the bullet ricocheting off somewhere and hear the guy fall to the floor. Yoongi’s training kicked in and two seconds later, he was on top of the guy, trying to finish it. His enemy was brave, dizzy, and without balance, but he was still a tougher foe than most people Yoongi had encountered in his career or training. The pistol had fallen somewhere when the guy had lost his balance, so it was all about the knife. They started fighting for it and in a slip of his hand, the guy caught it, and slash.

Yoongi grunted and fell back, holding onto his face more with shock and instinct, than actual pain. He thought he was blind for a moment, feeling something thick on his fingers while his sight darkened, but he couldn’t stop. To stop was to endanger you, and he couldn’t allow that to happen. He opened his good eye and, seeing the guy with his back turned advancing toward you, Yoongi rushed to kick him as hard as he could in the back of the knee.

The guy fell forward with a grunt, letting the knife fly away, and in your attempts to escape him, you leaned back on the chair. The push was enough to make you gasp and fall back with a bang that scared Yoongi shitless. His head was hurting, and along with the blood covering his eye, it put him off balance, to his frustration. He gritted his teeth, trying to get to the fallen guy by crawling; it wasn’t like it was his ears, so his balance was fine. It was just his damn eye!

But he didn’t move fast enough; suddenly, he heard steps rushing and tried to get back on track and jump on the guy, but he couldn’t see him. It was too late.

A gunshot echoed again, and this time a body hit the floor. Yoongi sat up and rubbed at his eyes roughly, widening his eyes to check on you , and there you were. In the same dress as this morning, though covered in sweat, dry blood, dust and now even chair bits from when it shattered with your fall, standing a few steps away from him, emotionlessly eying the guy you had shot in the head.

Then, you rushed to his side and kneeled. Yoongi wanted to grab you close, speechless, but you grabbed his head instead and brushed his longer dark hair aside.

You sighed in relief, “You’re okay, it’s just a scratch.”

He blinked at you, finally acknowledging the sting on his eyelid and cheek and that he could see fine, but instantly it didn’t matter. He widened his eyes at you, raising his arms around you, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

You meant to get up, but you groaned. Something wasn’t right.

Yoongi called your name and you looked at him. It was as though you had gone deaf; his lips were moving but you could barely hear him.

“You’re bleeding.”

“What?”

“You’re bleeding,” he repeated, supporting you more steadily, trying to calm you, but you were confused.

“I’m not, I’m fine. I wasn’t shot.”

“No,” he brushed your cheeks gently, trying to make you focus. “You’re bleeding.”

It was like a CD entered the slot and it finally dawned reality on you. You looked down, holding onto his arms around you, and the pain hit you like a truck. You were bleeding down your legs, and suddenly you were dizzy. Your legs couldn’t hold you; you only wanted to curl around yourself and he let you down slowly.

“It hurts—”

“Breathe.”

Yoongi started the breathing exercises you both had learned but the way you glared at him was enough.

“I’ll carry you out. Ready?”

Your groan had a pitch of fear, but you bit your lip and screamed through the pain as he lifted you in his arms. Everything was a blur; hot and cold sweats going up and down your spine as you tried not to scream your pain out. It was visceral, terrifying, and rife with despair— something was wrong. You needed help. Now.

Once upstairs, people had scattered in a commotion, but fortunately, it seemed nobody quite knew what was going on. Some were running outside, others were filming, but the center's staff was surprisingly quiet. It was almost like suddenly, there was no one to take charge.

Fortunately, an ambulance had already been called to tend to the reported distress at the building. So when Yoongi stepped out with you in his arms, the paramedics quickly turned to the pregnant person with a bloody dress instead of a drunk making a scene.

In a matter of seconds, you were on a stretcher being carried inside the ambulance, and Yoongi wanted to go with you. 

But you held his hand, “No.”

He frowned, but you just looked behind him and then gave him a look, and he understood. He let go of your hand and instantly turned back as swiftly as possible. The crowd was in shock with the reported noise and the bloodied pregnant woman that just passed by them, and so, distracted.

Yoongi rushed downstairs, leaving the door closed behind him. He grabbed your blade and his pistol, then quickly looked around. It was a storage room with all sorts of boxes and containers, and he needed something that could destroy evidence fast, but not so fast that all the people tied up in other rooms, bleeding to death, couldn’t be rescued in time.

In the end, he found flammable paint and poured it on stacks of documents far back in the room before setting them on fire with a lighter. He hoped the humidity made the fire spread slowly enough, but even just the water from the sprinklers would help once they were triggered.

After dealing with that, he made his way completely upstairs through another set of stairs that weren’t accessible to the public. 

He had been there before, so he knew exactly where to go and that there were no cameras. He assumed he had killed most of the goons because only a handful tried to stop him. By then, he had reloaded, and nothing could stand in his way. Something was wrong; you weren’t supposed to be bleeding. It was too soon. It was all those fuckers fault!

He reached the office of Prokhor Evgeni and staggered for a second — Jae Seong Seok was sitting right there as though he had had an audience with the Russian. Both older men looked scared, which made the situation strange, almost comical. Only Yoongi wasn’t in a laughing mood; he raised his pistol and shot precisely twice.

Each man fell back onto their chair or on the floor while Yoongi pushed his hair back with annoyance, flaring, “I said I like it fucking quiet.”

Before his anger could go further, his phone started buzzing inside his pocket, and he sobered up. That meant Thoma had told Officer Jung what he needed to know; that signaled that the force was establishing a perimeter and a team to swarm the place.

He holstered his gun on his belt, then quickly put on gloves and searched for each man’s guns. Prokhor had one in his desk drawer, and Yoongi used it to shoot Jae Seong Seok a couple of times before shooting all around the room and throwing it on the floor. The Commissioner had a revolver with him, and it wasn’t hard to shoot in Prokhor’s direction and simulate a scene. Would it raise questions? Absolutely. But the more questions it raised, the harder it would be to get to the actual truth.

Yoongi went downstairs and blended in with the crowd still lingering about before reaching for the fire alarm to pull it. A loud siren went off, and the fire in the basement must have finally triggered the sprinklers because they went off, too. He made his way out amongst everybody else. Then, he faced the sky and started laughing.

He thought to just take out his raincoat so no one would know he was inside, but it was raining outside. So he stood there under the rain, smirking, letting it wash away the blood from his face, clothes, and any evidence that he had been inside.

He stood under the elements the whole time, the image of diligence coordinating the police and firemen who responded to the scene. It was a bloodbath and instantly the bodies became the reason for a national scandal. The media couldn’t get enough of it, especially the bit about the Commissioner and the Head of a Mafia family. The officers, though, were more inclined to believe the Commissioner had come to save you in person, and something had gone wrong. Maybe your child was even his. It would make sense, considering both your statuses. Maybe you were having an affair.

Yoongi focused on making sure that everything was accounted for, even the witnesses that said he was seen before the firemen and police arrived. He made sure their statement was taken too because they were contradictory with other witnesses. Some saw him carrying a pregnant lady, some only saw him when the alarm went off. The more information the police had, the better.

But it didn’t mean he wasn’t worried about you. He understood why you asked him to stay, he needed to finish things and handle the outcome. After all, you both needed to own that city.

But he was dying to hear news from you. He had texted your people as soon as he had a second, so he knew they were with you, but still. Waiting just wasn’t possible, not tonight.

He was smoking and wrapping up the last details before the scene could be sealed when his phone buzzed inside his pocket. He picked it up this time, and the wails of a baby caught his breath.

“Is it done?”

��Yes,” he breathed, then he closed his eyes. “Our boy?”

“Eager to meet you.”

“You?”

“Come see for yourself.”

He didn’t need anything else to tell the last Officers on the scene he was leaving. He walked away to reach his car, then drove calmly to the hospital. He was drenched, so he left his raincoat inside the car and got on the elevator straight to the level you were in.

You were in a private, spacious room with everything you could need. It was just you, already wearing something of your own under the sheets, snoozing with a baby to your chest. Yoongi neared you and kissed your forehead, closing his eyes with the relief flooding him. You awoke with his touch and leaned in closer. He smelled of rain and new beginnings.

When he pulled away, you reached to touch the cut. Someone had cleaned it, leaving it red and furious across his eye, top to bottom. Looking into each other’s eyes, you knew the other was fine. Each with your own pain, but united in that moment, at last.

Finally, Yoongi took a look at his son. He was reddened too, with puffy cheeks and pouty lips, just like yours. He leaned in to kiss and nuzzle his son with a heart so full, he couldn’t speak. All he could do was sit on the bed, embracing you and him in his arms. 

You were looking at your baby before you noticed your position, englobing your son on two fronts, completely. Your lips curved, and you looked at Yoongi. You had finally won.

There we have it! I hope it was a nice, wild ride! 😁👋💜

[sunlightmurdock]

The Parent Trap | 0.4 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Masterlist

♡ In which, after a couple of years of listening to Peyton and Parker Bradshaw complain about their parents’ custody agreement, Grandpa Mav’s meddling goes a little bit too far.

♡ warnings: mentions of divorce throughout the fic, flashbacks to arguments and unhappily married people. Idiots who still love each other and don’t know it, drinking / being drunk, flashbacks and references to sex, minors dni, wc: 4.8k

…

“I’m not being mean, I just think he smells weird,” Parker decides with a shrug, moving the little silver dog six spaces and narrowly missing her sister’s monopoly of hotels on the right side of the board. She lifts her gaze and looks at you, just daring you to challenge her logic. “It’s not mean if I’m just saying what I think.”

Peyton’s lips twitch as she shakes the dice in her hand, but she doesn’t add any commentary this time. You narrow your eyes across at your outspoken daughter, finding so much of your ex-husband in the amusedly defiant way she stares back at you.

“What does he smell like, then, Parks?” You challenge.

“Wood.” She answers with a shrug as her sister rolls a solid twelve and picks up the thimble to skip along the board in front of her. Peyton pokes her tongue out in concentration, like it’ll do anything to prevent her solid twelve from landing her right on the Go To Jail space. She growls in frustration and falls back dramatically onto the carpeted floor. She has spent most of this round in jail. You’re beginning to feel sorry for her, but it’s hard when she has some of the best properties and a business strategy that should probably concern you as a parent.

“Well, he is a carpenter.” You remind her, picking the dice up and shaking them in your hand. With that, the man in question rounds the corner with two glasses and two juice boxes balancing in his hands and a smile plastered across his face. This is now the fourth time that Chris has met your children, the first being a month ago.

He seems to be growing on them if Parker is actively trying not to be mean this time. You still haven’t gotten your girls to ‘fess up as to which one of them buried his phone in the backyard like a wild dog. Like you wouldn’t notice when your hydrangeas started ringing.

“Here we go, an apple, an orange, and two coffees.” Chris hands out the drinks and struggles bending his remarkably inflexible legs into a crisis-crossed shape. They made him be the phone piece — you’re certain that it’s to taunt him about the burying incident — but he’s being a champ about it.

Peyton looks down at her drink and hums, “I don’t want apple anymore. I’ll take an orange juice, big guy.”

In the years since you last hung out with Maverick, it’s so easy to miss the little Mitchell-isms working their way into your kids’ vocabulary. Your head whips around, far more concerned with what she said rather than where she got it from. Chris turns his head towards her, opens his mouth and quickly shuts it again, readying himself to get back up. Your eyes widen as you turn to find your eight year old smiling back at you.

“Then go and get an orange juice, P. Don’t be rude.” You correct her with a stern frown. Suddenly, the apple juice isn’t as much of an issue. She stabs the straw through the hole with her eyes narrowed in Chris’ direction, but this is still a big improvement from last time.

This was never going to be easy, but in the weeks since you introduced your girls to your boyfriend, you have to admit that you thought it would be easier than this. You’ve never heard either one of the girls talk about their dad as much as they do when Chris is in the room.

“Dad knows that she prefers orange.”

“Well, she asked Chris for an apple juice and that’s what she got.” It’s hard not to grow tired when you know it must be wearing him down too. You take the dice and drop them suddenly into Chris’ toughened palm. He softens in comparison, simply smiling back at you.

“So, did you guys get up to anything fun when you were at your dad’s last weekend?” He tries. If they want to talk about their dad, he doesn’t mind — he gets it. It makes you feel even worse.

“Yeah.” Payton deadpans, staring across at him like dirt on her shoe. “What did you two do while we were gone?”

Your head turns towards her again. Chris answers coolly.

“Your Mom sold that new dress she was working on. Cool, right? — We went out to dinner to celebrate that. Other than that, it’s pretty quiet around here without you guys.”

He’s looking at the board, busy moving his piece. He doesn’t know your children the way that you do. He misses entirely the split-second in which they glance across at each other. They find you narrowing your eyes at them.

At once, they’re saved by your ringtone. Another glance is shared between the two of them as you push up from the floor and head for the hallway to answer your call. In your absence, Chris’ piece lands on Peyton’s Park Row property, with the hotel sitting on top.

His brown eyes flicker up to find the eight-year old staring at him expectantly.

“You know the rules. Cough up.” She demands, in a tone she knows she isn’t allowed to be talking in. By the look on their little faces, Chris almost instinctively reaches for his real wallet rather than the colourful little notes sitting beside him.

When you walk back into the room, the first thing that you notice is the silence. Looking between the twins and your boyfriend, your frown deepens. “What’s going on?”

“Chris lost. He’s out of money.” Peyton explains calmly, flicking through her stack of ones like she’s Vito Corleone all of a sudden. Chris turns to look at you and simply wiggles his eyebrows, giving a shrug of defeat as he moves to stand.

As much as you find reflections of your ex-husband in them every day, it tugs at your heartstrings to see pieces of yourself in them too.

“You okay?” He asks, cupping the back of your neck, craning his neck to look at your face. Your palm catches his arm, sitting against his bicep as he pulls you closer.

Parker kicks her sister and they both turn their heads to watch.

You lower your voice to a whisper, fighting to keep the disappointment off of your face. “Yeah… The sitter just canceled.”

“Oh.” He sighs. You’ve been talking about this night for weeks, it’s not often that you get to go out with your friends now that you’ve all got grown-up commitments. “D’you think Bradley could watch them?”

“He’s out of town for a work thing.” You explain dejectedly, leaning in to Chris’ touch as he swipes your hair delicately back from your face.

Watching him hold you close, Parker starts to consider burying his phone once again. Or dropping it in the toilet. Or maybe pouring honey into his work boots that she saw by the front door.

Or maybe, if she was staying true to the source material, she could get him on a camping trip and push his mattress out into the middle of the lake. But he’s bigger than Meredith Blake was, and she’s smaller than Hallie Parker was.

The honey will do.

“I’ll watch ‘em.”

Bradley was out of town on a work thing. He was gone from Tuesday ‘til Friday, he told you that. He got in a little after nine and thought about having a beer, but didn’t. Instead, he just sat on his couch and tried to find a show that would keep him up long enough that he wouldn’t wake up at five in the morning.

He woke up at 1am, his neck stiff and the show two episodes ahead of where he thought it should be. Groaning, he had pushed himself off of the couch and decided to head to bed when he had gotten the text.

The conversation he had with Parker last weekend crossed his mind instantly. They had spent hours talking about fate; what is was, if they believed in it. If Bradley hadn’t startled himself awake by snoring, he would have missed the text completely.

He slipped his phone out of the pocket of his jeans with one hand, rubbing at his tired shoulder muscle with the other, squinting down at the bright screen.

Please pick me up from the Hard Deck when you see this.

He hasn’t ever made you ask twice.

Chris offering to watch the girls had come completely out of left field. It had almost caused a full-blown argument, but that man just seems impossible to get angry with. Stroking your hair and calming each one of your nerves step by step, he swore to you that he just wanted you to have a good time, that he could handle two little girls.

Bribing them was clearly the only way this was going to work, and it seemed like Chris had that in the bag. Emergency numbers set up and ready, allergy information written on the fridge and a borderline military debrief with your twins had left you practically trembling with anxiety, but had gotten you out of the house nonetheless.

You hadn’t planned on getting this drunk. The plan was to go, have a couple of drinks with your friends, and Uber home after a couple of hours. It never works out that way.

In fact, you can barely keep your head up straight when you hear one of your friends call out over the music. “Is that Rooster?”

Blinking doesn’t help you see straight. The loud music, and the bodies in the way, and the irregular lighting doesn’t help either. You squint and finally find him. Wearing jeans and a tight fitting black t-shirt, heading straight for you.

When you squint harder, you expect to realize that it’s not him.

“Rooster!” The second that he reaches you, your arms are around his neck and your chest is pressing into his. You haven’t hugged your ex-husband like this in a long time. “What are you doing here?”

He wrinkles his nose, untangling your arms from around him so that he can get a good look at your face. It’s been a long time since he saw you this dressed up. Hair, make-up, heels. The dress looks familiar but he can’t quite place it.

“You texted me.” He watches your eyelids falling shut, blinking heavily and irregularly as he explains to you. He steadies you by your arms. “You wanna go home?”

There’s a disgruntled groaning sound before you try to look around at your friends. At this point, Rooster makes an effort to be polite and greet them all. After all, they were his friends too, once. They’re all as shitfaced as you.

“Come on, mama. I’ll take you home,” He decides for you, hugging you against him like your own feet aren’t secure enough for his tastes anymore. You fall all too willingly against his chest, your cheek pressing into the fabric of his shirt while he tries to keep the attention of your friends. “Does anyone else need a ride?”

Maybe they do, maybe they don’t — maybe their own husbands will get up and come get them. Rooster won’t leave them without knowing they’ve got a way home, so you know that once you feel the outside chill on your skin he must have made arrangements for them.

He sighs quietly and jerks you as he tries to get a better grasp. Outside, you can finally hear him properly.

“Honey, you need to walk. Use your feet.” He tells you, despite all evidence pointing to the contrary. Your head is lulled against the swell of his shoulder, you haven’t moved your feet since he grabbed you, and yet you’re moving towards the car perfectly fine.

Everything is happening in chapters. You’re skipping ahead and losing parts, not paying attention to much. Things aren’t spinning yet, but they sure are blurry. You manage to talk back anyway.

“I don’t.” You answer, head turned towards the sky. It occurs to you, briefly, that you’re going to be horrifically embarrassed about this tomorrow. Your feet try, then trip, and his hold on you tightens.

“What did you drink? — You alright?” His arm around your waist pulls you closer, your head lulling off of his shoulder and awkwardly onto his moving chest. You hum contentedly.

“I had a good time.” You whisper.

He sighs something about you throwing up in his car and you’re faintly aware of the sound of a car door unlocking.

“C’mere, honey. Just sit right there. I’ve got some water. You wanna sit and get some fresh air with me?” Maybe there are pauses in between — maybe he says it all slower than that, but you can’t really focus. Or open your eyes.

You know that he has guided you to sit against the tailgate of the Bronco because of the way your feet dangle. As a mother, you hate this car. As a girl who fell in love with Bradley Bradshaw — fuck, you love this car.

“Wanna drink somethin’ for me?” Rooster offers the bottle to your mouth and winces as you draw your head sharply away from it. He grabs your shoulders and stops you from teetering over.

You’re not sure how, but you settle into his side and find that his arm remains there. Draped around your shoulders as you rest your head against him.

It takes a while, but Rooster gets you to drink. It’s anyone’s guess as to how long you sit on that tailgate sipping from that water bottle, but his arm around your shoulder feels nice anyway — even if he’s just rubbing your back because he thinks you’re going to puke.

When things start to come around a little more, you’re laying across the two backseats and hugging the water bottle like a teddy bear. Your head is spinning.

“You alright back there?” Rooster calls to you, making you frown slightly and lift your head. Passing by traffic lights and street signs, the world turned on its axis as you try to push yourself up and ultimately give in to staying laid down.

He’s really here. Some way or another, you really forced this man to carry you out of the bar and spend his Friday night babying you. You want to know if you called, or texted, or if he was just in the bar and saw you — you thought he was away for work — but that’s all too embarrassing still.

Your mind is too cloudy for that level of conversation, your words still don’t sound quite right.

“You even didn’t question it.” Your body sways as he pulls to a stop at a red light, your focal point on the soft top of the Bronco swaying with you and kickstarting that dizziness all over again. With a swallow, you close your eyes. The swaying continues like the leather seats below you are actually built into a speedboat as opposed to a seventies classic car.

“Did you put that seatbelt on yet?” His dad-voice comes from the front. Eyes still shut, this makes you smile. You don’t even remember him telling you to. He peers at you through the rear view mirror. “Question what?”

All you offer him is a small shrug, not interested in a seatbelt in the slightest in your current state. This next sentence requires a deep inhale first, but is interrupted by a hiccup. “I text you out of the blue and you just… show up. Didn’t even check to see if it was for you.”

Bradley bites at the inside of his cheek, brows drawing together as the light turns green and another check towards the mirror confirms that you still aren’t wearing a seatbelt. He huffs and the car pulls sharply to the side, making you groan in complaint.

The radio plays on as Bradley stops at the side of the road and unclips his own seatbelt, then gets out of the car. Your poor brain hasn’t even had time to catch up before he’s pulling the door open and half-climbing in. You blink as he appears over you.

With the door still open, he’s just illuminated by the street light. His eyes have always looked so soft in the dark. The slight pout of his lips, the sharpness of his jaw, the bump in his nose. He’d started out with the most innocent of intentions, but as he leans over you across the backseat, it becomes clear that you’re both struck by the same abrupt chord of familiarity.

This is far from the first time that the two of you have been in this position. In fact, this is exactly how things started out the first night you hooked up.

He swallows above you. There’s a wonderstruck look on your face that makes his ears burn red. Your eyes search over his face and with each inch they cover, he watches them flood with remembrance. Warm pink spreads across his cheek, extending down his chest. It makes your lips twitch to think you can still get him to blush.

“Come on, sit up.” Bradley whispers, gently taking each of your hands in his and pulling you upright. “Let’s put your seatbelt on.”

Silently, you don’t fight him on the matter and Bradley knows that’s a win in itself. It’s not the first time he’s had to wrangle you into this car after a few drinks either. Your eyes are just on him, and he swears that’s where the heat on his face is coming from. His fingers fumble to get the buckle into the clasp.

The second that he hears that click, he’s withdrawing from the backseat and climbing back into the driver’s side. You stare at the rear view mirror as he pulls away from the curb. In truth, you had forgotten how gentle he could be with you.

“Thank you.”

He glances up at the mirror, then back at the road.

“Thanks for picking me up. Sorry that I’m…” The pause facilitates a deep inhale that stops you from hiccuping mid-sentence. He watches you sheepishly ready yourself to continue. “Such a mess.”

This, makes him smile. It spreads across his face just as easily as the pink hue had, taking over his features.

“Honey, we both know I’ve seen worse.” Oh god, he remembers. He said it so casually too, like he’s reminiscing on a fond memory. The memory isn’t quite as fond for you, but then again, you don’t remember too much of it. He used to always tease you about it.

The night you met him was your twenty-first birthday, and you were flirting all night, but then you had gotten way too drunk and he had to carry you home — with you fighting him the whole way. He called you alley-cat for two months afterwards. Your feral behaviour had clearly caught his eye, though, because he started hanging around the Hard Deck a lot more afterwards.

Things hadn’t ever seemed that serious in the Hard Deck. Everything was easier back then. The career you have now is exactly what you wanted, but you can’t pretend that some days you wouldn’t rather have a handsome aviator leaning over a bar and telling you jokes to make your shift pass faster.

He takes one more look up at the mirror and smiles again, this time because he finds you already not trying to smile back at him.

“God, I had such a crush on you that summer.” The second that you’ve said it, you have to stop yourself from slapping a hand over your mouth. Closing your eyes will do. You can feel him staring either way.

It shouldn’t be weird to acknowledge. You were married for over five years. In love for a good while before that. Of course you had a crush on him originally. But it’s at the forefront of both of your minds that it still feels like yesterday that you were sprawled along this backseat, stomach bursting with butterflies as he unbuttoned your shorts for the first time.

The salt on his skin, the smell of his cologne mixed with sunscreen and sweat. The way his curls dry after he’s been in the ocean. The way the sunset hits the browns of his eyes. The freckles on his shoulders, dipping into the valleys between his muscles.

The brush of the same moustache you had been making fun of for months against the most sensitive parts of your skin and with it — the realisation that you actually loved that moustache.

Shivering through the late summer evening heat, whispering his name to the stars as his smart mouth worked between your legs. He drove around with the top down a lot back then.

He remembers everything about getting to know you. Getting taunted relentlessly by Hangman because of the way he blushed when you used to tell him his drink was on the house. Almost falling off of his stool craning his neck to get a better look at you behind the bar. Making sure you were invited to every beach outing. The first time he kissed you, and the way you were looking up at him before.

“Sorry, that was—“

“It’s alright.” He interrupts. When he closes his eyes at the next stop sign, all he can think of is the sight of your wet footsteps leading up the steps on his back porch. You had come from the beach. He had known he was going to find you in his shower inside. It was the first time he had ever come home to you. You were barely dating back then.

He looks at the mirror, wondering if you remember that time in the shower.

You’re not thinking about the shower. Fingers spread out, trailing the seams in the leather, you’re thinking about the last time you had sex in this car. So different from the first time. Bradley had known your body so much better, the two of you were so much more comfortable together.

The girls were with your parents for an entire weekend while the two of you were out of town for the wedding. Before the reception, Bradley had tugged you outside and bunched your pretty dress up around your middle. Closing your eyes and letting your fingers inch across the seats, you can still remember his breath fanning across his chest, the low grunts as he drove himself into you. His arms wrapped around your body, your forehead resting against his bicep and your legs around his waist.

“Rooster.” You rarely call him that anymore. It’s the first name you knew him by, since all of his work buddies called him that. Bradley was something that came letter, something that felt more for just the two of you. The last thing you would say most nights. Goodnight, Bradley. It’s been a long time since you said that, but you know it would feel just the same coming off of your tongue.

He hums from the front seat, but doesn’t look.

“Could I sit up front with you?”

“Yeah, sure— let me—“ Too late. He hears your seatbelt unbuckle and knows what’s coming next. Sure enough, as he’s going at a steady forty along Palm Avenue, you swing one foot unsteadily over the console and wobble in the direction of the passenger side. “Baby—“

It’s out of instinct, purely because you’re stressing him out. You plop down into the passenger seat and turn your head to look at him. Wordlessly, both of you decide to pretend you didn’t hear that.

For his peace of mind, you tug the seatbelt across your body and clip it in.

“We’re in so much trouble if the girls take after you.” He teases, the smile in his voice cutting through the tension. You giggle beside him.

“Me? — Do you not remember what happens when you get too familiar with a bottle of tequila?” You answer back, eyes closed and a silly smile on your face. You remember. You remember having to carry him, practically dead weight, into your bed from the living room and spend the night rubbing his back while he threw up the next morning.

“Yeah, we’re in big trouble.” Rooster scoffs, pushing his fingers through his hair. You stare across at the tattoo on the inside of his bicep as he rests his elbow against the door.

You’re still drunk enough to blame the alcohol when you reach across and take his free hand as he steadies the wheel with the other. His gaze flickers down as you loop your fingers through his. “We weren’t that bad.”

This time he laughs.

“We weren’t? — So you don’t remember—“ He’s still grinning when he stops himself, already turning into your street. You two don’t talk about that stuff anymore. You’ve moved on. Those funny little stories are private now, entirely his. Your boyfriend sure as hell wouldn’t want to hear them.

He looks over at you as he slows down to pull up to the curb.

You’re already looking across, staring at him with a look he hasn’t seen in a long time. The smile that you flash him makes him think of that first year. Then, you close your eyes and exhale, “I remember everything.”

Even with the radio playing, there’s a silence that sits between the two of you as the car pulls to a stop. It’s at that point that everything in your orbit starts to spin, forcing you forwards and making you whimper. Bradley’s already out of the car and jogging around to your side as you catch your head in your hands and try to breathe.

“C’mere, honey. I’ve got you.” He reaches around you to unbuckle you from the car, pulling you out by your underarms and holding you against him as he shuts the door. It’s still not the most graceful procedure, but he’s gotten better at it. You’re not exactly making it easy for him as you wobble back and hit your head on the window.

“Oh shit, are you okay?” He breathes out.

“I wanna go to bed.” You complain, wobbling forwards and this time crashing into his chest. He secures one hand on the back of your head to keep you there, pretending like he isn’t checking whether or not you have a bump. Even now, he can’t seem to turn the dad-reflexes off. You sigh into his shoulder. “Take me to bed.”

His free hand finds your waist and he glances down, finally clocking where he remembers this dress from. You wore it the second night of your honeymoon. He remembers this dress very well — he used to carry a picture of you wearing it in his wallet. He’s ninety-percent sure that the twins were conceived because of this dress.

“Yeah, you’re going to bed, baby. Nearly there.” In truth, by the time he has carried you to the door, Rooster has almost forgotten that you have a boyfriend. He’s expecting the same sweet old lady that you’ve been hiring for years to answer the door. That’s why he makes no effort to peel you off of him.

Rooster stares at Chris, while Chris looks between the two of you. You’re barely awake and clinging to your ex-husband’s shirt, he’s holding you at the waist, keeping you standing. Chris looks barely awake, still fully dressed. Clearly a man who has been waiting to hear from you for hours.

“Is she alright? — What happened?” His reaction is positive. Rooster appreciates that much about him. Still, he can’t stop thinking about what Maverick said. If Chris becomes permanent, Bradley’s entire family becomes his.

“She just had too much to drink, she called me for a ride home. I gave her some water and stuff, but—“ Rooster starts to explain, propping you up and holding you halfway. It’s unclear if he’s supposed to just pass you over. He doesn’t know if this guy even knows where you keep the products you remove your make-up with.

“She called you?” Chris challenges. There it is. There’s the anger that Rooster was waiting for.

“I wouldn’t take it personally. She’s shitfaced. She just needs to get some sleep and—“

“Yeah,” Chris steps one foot outside and reaches for your waist. You fall compliantly towards him, the toe of your shoe dragging along the ground as he tucks your arm over his shoulder and props you up. “I’ve got her. Get home safe.”

Rooster’s face doesn’t give away anything. He’s not immature anymore. He wants you to find someone who can give you, and by default his kids, everything that you could ever need. That’s why he keeps his mouth shut. He can think whatever he wants.

“Sure, yeah. Can I just ask… uh… where’s the sitter?” He was so close to walking away and just getting back in his car, but it’s after two now. If that old lady is still here, she would have made it known. As sweet as she was, she loves to complain.

“I watched the kids.”

Bradley raises his eyebrows at your stone-faced boyfriend. Once again, his face gives away nothing. “You did?”

…

Tags:

@khaylin27 @fudge13 @slutford @averyhotchner @hangmanscoming @diorrfairy @thedroneranger @phoenix1388 @perpetuelledaydreaming @princess76179 @cherrycola27 @wkndwlff @xoxabs88xox @galaxy-moon @sugarcoated-lame

[maxinehufflepuffprincess]

I Think They Call This Love

Choi Su-bong 'Thanos' x reader

(Hi everyone. I decided to switch things up a little and decided to try my hand with a Squid Game fic. I got the idea for this whilst making an oc and listening to the song 'I think they call this love.' It's been stuck in my head. So Thanos is probs gonna be out of character in this. Idk, it seems to be a pattern with me. Oh well. Please enjoy.)

Trigger warnings: Cursing, hints towards Su-bong's unaliving attempt. Though those words are never actually said.

Summary: Subong asks you to dance to cheer you up after a game.

You were tired. So incredibly tired. The second game had finished. Your hands couldn't seem to stop shaking. Even though it was over, you could still hear the gunshots, you could still feel the fear of playing, of messing up lingering in you. Your fiance, Su-bong or 'Thanos' as he was known, was sitting on your right. One of his hands held yours, his thumb gently stroking your knuckle. He was coming down from his high, which also helped to sooth you a little.

On your left was Se-mi. The two of you had been chatting since she had joined the group for the game, bringing Min-su with her. Though the way you two spoke to each other, it was like you had been friends for your whole lives, rather than just a few hours. There was something about her that helped you to feel at ease, even just a little bit. You thought that was why Su-bong was so chill with her. Why he shot down Nam-gyu whenever he tried to start an argument with her. Min-su was sitting to the side on one of the platforms, trying to ignore the glare from Nam-gyu.

You had just finished telling Se-mi about your plans for after the games. Telling her how you and Su-bong had met at school when he literally ran into you. It had been an accident, how he had helped you up and how you both locked eyes. 'Hello' you both had said at the same time but it was the beginning of everything. That you had grown together. He had seen you at your lowest points, held you as you cried. Always knew what to get when you were on your period. How he learnt to do different hair styles because he was doing your hair relaxed, you both. It scratched an itch inside of Su-bong. She learnt about how you had stood by Thanos through his rap career, encouraged him. How you were his muse and were even featured on a couple of songs. You told her how once the games are done, you wanted to marry the love of your life. How you wanted a nice house, from him to stop the drugs, keep growing as a rapper. How you wanted kids and maybe a dog. And possibly a cat too.

Things weren't always good though. When He had met Nam-gyu, it was when a shift happened. Sure, he had done weed occasionally. But then he began to do more, the pills appeared and it was like he had changed. You still saw Su-bong. When he was sober. When he held you at night. When he kissed you sweetly and told you he loves you. When you'd sit in his lap as he wrote his next song, he claimed you had to be there because 'you inspire me, sweetness.' Some of the best moments were when you cooked together. It didn't matter who knew how to cook a basic meal and who could burn water. What mattered was how well you worked together. How cooking together always had you covered in flour, and Su-bong trying to sneak samples of the food when your back was turned. How he'd wrap his arms around your waist and hold you close.

But of course, when Su-bong wasn't there, Thanos was. Thanos was mean. High all the time. The arguments with him were raw and hurtful. You both were guilty of saying harsh and cruel things. He'd be out late, leaving you to worry at home. He'd beg you to come to a club. And party girl or not, not every second had to be spent in a club. Sometimes it was nice having a quiet night in. Thanos spent money like it grew on trees. He sometimes made bad investment calls. Despite you saying not to. That's when the debt happened. Because he listened to some stupid idiot on the internet to invest in some stupid MG Coin scam.

The debt was what brought you both here. You had tried to sell your ring but Su-bong wouldn't let you. He couldn't let you do that. You had been there on the bridge with him. Trying to coax him down. Claims of 'We'll work this out.' and declarations of love. 'I love you, please don't do this. You're not a failure.' had him back in your arms. And then a man approached you both with the offer of playing a game.

"Baby." You hear from your right. You turn your head to look at Su-bong. You smiled softly at him, though he could see it didn't reach your pretty eyes. He couldn't have that. He couldn't watch you slowly break apart in front of him. Not you. He needed to bring you some joy. Just for a moment. He jumped up and placed his bread down. He plucked yours from your hand and set it beside his. He then held a hand out to you. "Dance with me?"

Dancing together was always fun. From an intimate space in the privacy of your living room, to a full head bopping, head spinning, arms moving, heartbeat racing dance in the club. Dancing together was always perfect. "There's no music." You pouted as you looked up at him.

'I'll make the music, Come on Senorita. Dance with me." You looked at Se-mi. "Watch my bread." And with that you slipped your hand in his. Su-bong gently pulled you up and walked you a little away from your group so you had space to move. "Are you sure about you?" You asked him curiously. Su-bong gave you a look, you knew that look. Of course he sure. He always was when it came to you. He placed a hand on your waist and pulled your body against his. Your free hand laid on his chest, as did your head. The sound of his heartbeat meeting your ear. His heartbeat was your favorite side. His voice being a close second. His heartbeat could sooth you, send you to sleep.

"They say you know when you know. So let's face it, you had me at hello."

He was singing. Like singing not rapping. It was something he did only for you. Normally, when you danced together or he held you in his arms in bed.

"Hesitation never helps. How could this be anything, anything else? When -"

The two of you swayed there together. Wrapped up in each other's warm. Like the world around you had frozen or melted away.

"All I dream of is your eyes. All I long for is your touch. And darling, something tells me that's enough, mmm."

Su-Bong lived for the moments like these. He felt so guilty. If he had been smarter, maybe he wouldn't be in debt. Maybe you two wouldn't be standing in a room with hundreds of people, trying to survive. One more game. That's what he kept telling himself. Just one more game and you could both go home. But maybe it was too late for that. You had voted X, he voted O. Just one more game and you could go home. He had to get you home. You didn't deserve the horrors of this place. A place he had forced you to stay. One more game and then he'll press X. It was a promise to you, to himself.

"You can say that I'm a fool. And I don't know very much, but I Think They Call This Love."

Su-bong smiled at you and gently pulled away before he spun you out and then back into his arms. He grinned hearing you giggle. Hearing you forget where you were, that you had eyes watching you both.

"One smile, one kiss, two lonely hearts is all that it takes. Now baby, you're on my mind, every night, every day. Good vibrations getting loud. How could this be anything, anything else?"

The purple-haired man dipped you and you locked eyes for a moment. He could see it. The smile on your face had reached your eyes.

"When. All I dream of is your eyes. All I long for is your touch. And darling, something tells me that's enough, mmm You can say that I'm a fool And I don't know very much, but I Think They Call This Love. Oh, I Think They Call This Love."

He leaned down, gently pressing his lips against yours in a soft, passionate kiss that held so many promises. 'I love you.' 'I'm getting you out of here.' 'I'll give you the future you deserve.' 'I'll be better.'

He pulled you back up before spinning you around the room.

"What could this be Between you and me? Oh"

You let out a laugh as you spun around the room, being twirled. He smiled brightly as he hugged you back into his chest. You swayed together. The world slowly came back to you, but it still felt miles away.

"Oh, all I dream of is your eyes. All I long for is your touch. And darlin', something tells me, tells me it's enough, mmm. You can say that I'm a fool. And I don't know very much. But I think they call- Oh, I think they call- Yes, I Think They Call This Love."

Su-bong closed his eyes for a moment as he held you close. His chin is resting on the top of your head. He wasn't going to let anyone take you from him. He'd protect you for one more game. One more and then he'd promise to press X. To take you home. To keep you safe. To let you invite Se-mi over as much as you wanted. He just wanted you to keep that light in your eyes. To keep that smile. So he stayed there for a little while longer. With his beloved in his arms, pretending you were both in your living room, dancing together. As long as you kept the smile in your eyes, then he hadn't failed. There was still time to continue your life together.

"This love"

Taglist:

@thecheshireprincess @mocchii-writes

[selenesnighttime]

devoted woman

Leonidas x fem! Reader who worships apollo

I've had this idea for a long time and I found it entertaining so here I am writing

English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes.

warning ⚠️ some touches at the end

You and Leo had been married for a while, your marriage was perfect, you two loved each other, the two helped each other with the affairs of Sparta, and you two loved spending time together to relax when you could! truly the perfect couple

Well, you two just had a little, little problem.

Since you were raised by a normal Spartan family, from a very young age it was instilled in you to be devoted to Apollo. and we all know what our king thinks about "that bastard" (his words, not mine)

You had just woken up, feeling how your husband was hugging you from behind. "what a beautiful day" you thought, being able to see the reflection of the sun from where you were.

You were about to get out of bed to look out the window, and thank Apollo for showing the sun to Sparta once again. You had already sat on the bed, but your husband's arm was still gripping your hip, and when you went to stand up, you felt his grip become stronger.

"Leo, my love, I have to go get ready, we have things to do today" You said, trying to move your husband's arm, but he refused to let go. "your going to go pray to that idiot again" your husband said, trying to get you to go back to bed.

"leo, let go of me" You said, already sounding somewhat irritated, as you tried again to get your husband to let you go. "No" said the king, pulling you hard this time and making you fall back onto the bed to hug you again

"I told you to let me go!" You began to shake and kick trying to get your husband to let go of you, but it was all in vain, since Compared to your king you were like porcelain. but hey! you were very smart!

Too bad that didn't help you much now.

The king's grip became a little stronger, and he pressed his mouth to your ear to speak. "My queen, if you don't stop shaking those pretty legs of your's, I'm going to make sure they end up shaking for 'something else', understood?" You stopped moving immediately, clearly nervous

"Good," said the king, settling down, still holding you in his strong arms. You didn't move, partly because you were in shock, and partly because you were thinking about how to get out of your husband's arms.

Unfortunately for you, lying in bed in your husband's strong, warm arms made you sleepy, and you ended up falling back asleep.

You and Leonidas were late for a meeting, and you didn't have time to go pray to Apollo, being pretty easy for you to see how happy your husband was.

or in short, leonidas 1, you 0

You were walking through the streets of Sparta, you and your husband had already left the meeting a while ago, so before going to do some things you had pending, you decided to go for a walk.

While you were walking you saw a bunch of flowers "I could take some and leave them on the statue of lord Apollo." You thought, bending down and taking several flowers, making a small bouquet.

"Everything ready" you thought, as you were about to go leave the flowers and then go do your chores. but suddenly, you heard a very familiar voice. "Hey kids, the beautiful queen (name) picked up some flowers for you to put in her hair! Isn't she the sweetest?" You looked at your husband with an annoyed face, making him laugh a little.

The children quickly approached you, wanting to comb your hair, and you were simply unable to say no, so you sat on the grass letting the children begin to comb your hair and place the flowers in it

Your husband watched from afar, laughing at how the children put your hair in two pigtails, one being higher than the other.

"You look beautiful sweetheart" said Leonidas in a mocking tone when the children finished combing your hair and you approached him "I hate you" you said irritated "I love you too (name)" He said and then planted a kiss on your lips and left, leaving you to remove your pigtails and the probably 8 knots you now had.

leonidas 2, you 0

finally! Leonidas had been called to resolve some things leaving you alone, which meant that you could finally pray in peace.

You were walking calmly, you had already gone to pick some flowers, making a bouquet like before, but this time without it ending up in your hair.

It didn't take you long to get to the temple of Apollo, where you left the flowers in front of his statue and knelt down thanking the god for showing the sun to your people once again

"finally" you thought letting out a sigh, you were calmly getting up, thinking about going to the room you shared with your husband to read, waiting for his return.

suddenly, you heard the sound of something creaking

you slowly turned around, already knowing what your destiny was. And as you expected, behind you, at the entrance to the temple, was your husband standing, gripping the wall tightly causing it to crack

"h-hello my love" You said stuttering, clearly nervous.

"(name), my love, I thought we already talked about this ." The king tried not to sound upset, clearly not being good at it.

You didn't say anything, not knowing what to do "from what I see you didn't listen well, it's better we go to our room to talk more calmly." Yeaaa, no, you appreciate your ability to walk

you quickly turned around and ran away "hey!" Leonidas ran after you, you two ran around the statue of Apollo, and then you ran out of the temple to your castle

You managed to leave Leo a little behind, and as you ran you passed two maids and stopped "Don't tell him where I'm going!" you quickly continued running, leaving the two maids confused

quickly you went down one of the two hallways, and when you left, Leonidas arrived stopping to see the two hallways

Leonidas noticed the two maids, who had already understood what you were referring to.

"Which hallway did she go to?" said the king "she went to the right hallway" said one of the maids "yes, she looked tired" said the other

"oh really?" The king was not convinced, and approached the maids "My king, why would we lie to you?" said the first servant, while the other nodded

The king sighed and then he looked at the two maids

"If you're telling me the truth, you both have the day off."

"She went down the left hallway, she looked tired, so she probably stopped there to rest"

"Thank you, you can go."

The two quickly ran away happily, and the king continued on his way, hoping that the maids were right and you were resting

and unfortunately for you, they were right, since you were leaning against a wall trying to catch your breath

The journey from the temple to your castle was not short, and you had done it all running, you literally felt like you were going to faint right there.

it took you a while to notice that your husband was approaching, and when you noticed you tried to keep running, but your husband grabbed your arm and turned you around to then throw you over his shoulder.

The king turned around and started walking towards his room, making you nervous remembering what he had told you in the morning. you started kicking and hitting your king's back, trying to get him to put you down

"L-Leo are we actually going to talk about- ah!" You suddenly let out a moan when you felt your husband spanking you

"What do you think, sweetheart?" That was all the answer you needed.

As soon as he entered the room he threw you on the bed and got on top of you. kissing you, and passing his hand over your thigh, massaging it

"L-Leo..." you were trying to catch your breath, feeling how your husband brought his hand closer to your core, which was hot and wet

"I warned you, so don't complain" The king kissed you again, passing his hand through your underwear and tearing it "put on another one later" He said starting to massage your center, making you moan.

You were already starting to lose control, you tried not to moan too loudly but it was impossible, Your husband just made you feel too good.

and obviously you weren't the only one, your king was desperate to be inside you, but he didn't want to hurt you, so he would have to use his fingers in the meantime.

It wasn't long before night, so let's hope Leo doesn't keep you there until too late.

But in other words:

Leonidas 3, you 0 ❤️

wooo, this is the first time I've written something like this, I think I did it pretty well

and to think that I wrote it all with the translator on my keyboard

I will probably write more about Leo (mostly about Leo, but I may also write about Thor, or Hercules)

[riverwriter]

“Longbottom, I’m disappointed in you!” Draco called across the Entrance Hall.

Hermione sighed. She had no idea what her husband was talking about, but what she did know was that while he and Neville were actually good friends, it was a friendship based on constantly giving each other a hard time. And that could be amusing when they were socializing amongst people who knew them and understood the dynamic. But she was very nervous about what he might be about to say in front of a room full of school children, many of whom were about to become their students.

“What are you talking about Malfoy?” Neville crossed his arms over his chest and it was apparent that if Draco wanted to have a conversation, he would have to come to him. Draco grinned and a disturbing manner and then began tugging Hermione through the crowd of students with their joined hands.

Hermione thought about making a run for it but decided that wouldn’t look good. Even twenty years later people were wary of her husband and it wouldn’t do to act like she was afraid of him or like there was any discord in their marriage. She wanted him to be trusted and respected as a professor.

“The Sorting was disappointing, Longbottom,” Draco said once they were only a few feet away from him, “and it was all your fault.”

“I called the kids names, I put the hat on their heads, they were all successfully sorted. I did my job, the same job the Deputy Headmaster has been doing for hundreds of years.”

“Yes, but you haven’t been doing the job for hundreds of years.”

“You expected me to mess with a centuries old tradition?” Neville asked him skeptically.

“I just think that for the first time the famous Nagini Slayer was standing in the middle of the Great Hall, holding the Sorting Hat and there was no Sword of Gryffindor in sight? Where was the drama, Longbottom, the showmanship?! Disappointing,” Draco tsked.

Neville ran a hand over his face and looked at Hermione. “It’s not too late to get you out of this,” he told her, his voice deadpan, “Ernie MacMillan handles divorces as part of his law practice, I bet he could have you free of this git within a week.”

Hermione barked out a laugh of surprise. Draco released her hand and shuffled closer to her to wrap his arm around her waist.

“Please Longbottom, she couldn’t live without me.”

“Yes, it’s very unfortunate that I happen to love him.” She leaned into the idiot she married who made her smile daily. “Now I’m taking him home before he embarrasses us further.”

Day 11: The Sword of Gryffindor inside the Sorting Hat

[s-lverwing]

PECADO ; teaser

SUMMARY. Duty—the inescapable concept drilled into you from birth, embedded in your mind by relentless echoes and insistent tones. But now, since you’ve grown and become entangled in a tumultuous relationship with the King’s firstborn, duty has evolved into a word you loathe, a bitter reminder of the constraints and sacrifices that shapes your existence. As your world spins, the prospect of marrying Aegon's honorable twin, Maelor, intensifies the bitter irony of your plight, deepening your resentment and sense of betrayal from everyone.

PAIRING. aegon ii targaryen x targaryen!reader x maelor targaryen (aegon’s twin)

WORD COUNT. 1.3k

WARNINGS. just angst. english isn’t my first language. THIS IS MY NEW BLOG !! MAELOR IS AEGON’S TWIN !!!

A/N. I’m thinking so many thoughts. I want to make this a series, or smth but I don’t really know. I have 8k words now, and I want to keep going.

no betaed we die like viserys

She gazed at you, her lips parting only to release the haunting melody: “Pōja istin jehikagrī ēnka sir rāpūltan, isse iā rāpa, lyka nārhēdegon” (Their once bright hues now softened, in a tender, quiet loss).

Soon, the groans and heavy footsteps melded with the birds’ chirping and the distant murmur of voices from the hallways. Yet, the garden remained an isolated enclave, housing only Helaena’s ethereal song and your tumultuous thoughts. A palpable silence descended, compelling you to whip your head toward her.

Alicent’s only daughter was already regarding you with eyes brimming with worry and regret. It was uncommon for her to look at you this way, and the intensity of her gaze sent a shiver down your spine.

“Sealing the bond,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “One will drift away, the other will be chasing phantoms for an eternity” The innocence of her phrase was a dagger to your gut, making you want to retch, as you tasted bile on your tongue. Desperation clawed at you, and you fled, seeking refuge in the only place that could never offer you peace.

The room reeked of stale alcohol and sweat; a reminder of the first and last time you visited an inn. The once repugnant scent was now a grim familiarity. Each morning you arrived early, loyal as a hound and pristine as a dove. But not this morning; delicate petals from the garden were still tangled in your hair. You smell like fresh cut grass. And you’re late.

Aegon lay sprawled on his bed, utterly naked and feigning sleep. He was waiting, because even if he played the role of an idiot, a part of him still cared.

You swallowed hard, “Aegon?” Your voice trembled, a fragile thread of hesitation woven through it. Fear of him was not the issue; it was the looming dread, the haunting sense of something profoundly wrong, lurking just beyond the edges of your understanding.

The mere sight of him being humiliated by any member of his family or by himself was something you’ve become to accept, to make peace with. Aegon hasn’t been on a leash since he was a kid; since his father proclaimed Rhaenyra as his legitimate heir. And so he decided to indulge in the pleasure of the flesh… and alcohol — a sweet but ultimately lethal form of enjoyment. And the fact that he has harbored feelings for you doesn’t even move him into change. Not because of you, but for him. He deserves to be respected and the honor of a house such as the Targaryen. Though, he’s not even respected by his own kin. By his own parents. Viserys was old, and probably had an ounce of love for him which burned when he had realized he didn’t need more children to secure the bloodline. His firstborn was still very much alive; even if he was a woman. And Alicent only cherished his twin brother.

Aegon often wondered what it would be like to be the one born looking like a Hightower—instead of being a living reminder to his mother of the sacrifices she had to make, of her stolen childhood, and of every unavenged wound. Would he then be wanted as much as Maelor is? Deep down, he knew it was a futile dream. He tried not to care, but the fear of being crushed under the weight of everyone’s expectations gnawed at him incessantly.

After all, Maelor, has much more of a tender temperament and Aemond’s intellect and wit, which seemed to embody everything Aegon was not. His eyes were a warm, inviting brown, complementing his auburn hair—a perfect reflection of Alicent. He looked human, soft, approachable, and kind. In Aegon’s eyes, Maelor was the epitome of what Alicent desired, a role Aegon could never fulfill.

You dusted off your pale dress, swallowing down your rising frustration and anger. It wasn’t in your nature to be quick to anger, to point the finger, to blame others for their mistakes. But today, his actions felt unbearable. “Do—Do you even care?” Your voice sounded pathetic, a desperate plea for recognition, affection — just to be seen by your lover.

He didn’t bother opening his eyes. Everything was too bright, too loud for his liking, especially after Otto Hightower’s sermonizing. “Uhm—? Ah, oh,” He yawned, shifting to make himself more comfortable in bed. “Yes, sure.”

His indifference sparked a surge of anger within you, the bile rising to tinge your throat with its bitter taste. “I’m being serious.”

“Don’t speak so loud…” He groaned, dismissive. “You should go, I don’t want any of your services”

It makes your blood seethe, each word from him striking like arrows piercing through your heart. The indignity of being called a whore stings with a venomous edge.

It was always a struggle to engage in conversation with him when he was saturated with the remnants of last night’s excesses. But today felt especially grueling; your patience is unraveling, eroded by the relentless tide of his cruelty.

You approached his bed, standing close enough to block the sunlight that accentuated his handsome features. You wanted to scream, to hit him, hoping that maybe then he would love you, maybe then he would strive to be better and meet your mother’s expectations, so then they could be together. But Aegon wasn’t a fool; he knew you were the only one who forgave him every single time, without him even trying. Gathering all your courage, you spoke the words that had been festering within you: “You’re pathetic.”

So you think that too? He knew everything couldn’t be perfect. Aegon understood he was doomed, marked by fate’s cruel design. He knows this truth intimately… yet, despite everything, he clings to hope with a desperation that borders on madness. Because you’re the only one seeing him with different and softer eyes.

He can’t think because his mind is flooded with guilt, of everything that happened last night… Of everything he’s ever done to you, wether good or bad. But he keeps going, he doesn’t know anything else. “Go pester Maelor, he looks just like me. I’m sure he can entertain you… Maybe he won’t pleasure you as well as I do. But after all, all whores are the same, I’m sure he won’t mind”

Tears gathered at the corner of your eyes. His cruelty cuts deep, making you question if any of it is worth it—the sacrifices, the hurt, the strange looks, and your bleeding heart. Are they worth the fleeting moments of bliss? He’s capable of loving, and being kind — he has shown you that. Sometimes you like to fool yourself thinking that he actually cares about you, that maybe he thinks you’re more than just a pawn following everything he says… More than just a girl staring at him with wide, hopeful eyes. Thinking maybe, just maybe… he actually sees you.

But it’s the indifference, and his insolent words that creates a wall. One you’re too tired to try and bring it down.

You snort, deciding to play his game, ethough you know it will keep destroying everything. “Maybe I will, Aegon. Maelor has more honor in his little finger than you’ll ever have. You just wallow in your own filth.”

You speak with distaste, the words hurting you as much as they hurt him, because they come from a place of anger, a vengeful side you despise. It makes you want to throw up; the mere idea to succumb into your rage. After all, there’s pure dragon blood running in your veins, and it burns within you.

You turned around, unable to bear looking at him. If you meet his eyes, you’ll collapse under the weight of your own emotions and beg for forgiveness, even though it’s not your fault. You just wanted to make amends. “Do you know you’re throwing everything away, Aegon?” you ask, your voice trembling with the weight of unspoken despair. You don’t expect an answer. He already knows.

first chapter

[modelbus]

Teacherbur :,)

Pairing: Cc!Wilbur soot x Gn!Reader

Flufftober 15 - Nine To Five

“Knock knock.” Every head in your classroom—including yours—swivels to the door. Wilbur leans against your doorframe, sporting a grin and offering a wave to your students.

“Everyone say hello to Mr. Soot.” You tell the kids, and they all chorus it together.

"Hello Mr. Soot." You manage to catch a few grinning at each other, nudging and pointing. You and Wilbur were the topic of quite a bit of gossip between the students.

“Hey kids. Just stopping in to ask your lovely teacher a question.” He winks.

You sigh, standing up from your desk. “I’ll be right back. Don’t get into trouble, I’ll know.”

Wilbur guides you outside of your classroom, smiling. “Just wanted to confirm that I’m still good to use your classroom for guitar club after school?”

“Of course.” You nod. “I have essays to grade, too, so I’ll be there to make sure you don’t destroy it somehow.”

“When have I ever destroyed your room?”

In response, you simply raise an eyebrow. Last Halloween you were decorating your room and he had offered to help hang things for you, only to bring half the ceiling down on your heads. And you can’t forget the time he taught his music kids to make paper flutes, which promptly ended up all over your floor.

“If you need some help with your kids, this is my conference hour.” He offers. Unfortunately for you, today has been the only day your students are actually half-decent. Not that he needs to know that.

“I’m not putting Just Dance on.” You warn him.

“That’s alright. I’ll teach them the Cup Song instead.”

“Wil-“ he vanishes inside your classroom, leaving you to chase after him before he can wreck havoc.

Every student loved him—and you went home with him—but good Lord was he a handful.

-

You rub your temples, trying to focus on the words on the paper in front of you. Either you had just misread the same sentence for the fourth time, or it really was this bad.

The clattering of guitar strings wasn’t exactly helping you focus. You were fairly certain there was even the distinct sound of out-of-time ukele chords, although this was Wilbur’s guitar club.

When you had decided to let his guitar club use your room for today, you hadn’t realized they’d be so… bad. Maybe you were spoiled, being able to hear Wilbur play daily, or maybe you were just an idiot.

Warm hands land on your shoulders, fingers massaging into the muscle.

“I probably should’ve mentioned they’re not the best, hm?” Wilbur hums quietly.

“Not the best is putting it lightly.”

“They’re learning.” He insists. “We’re over in ten minutes, though. I’ll help you grade any remaining essays. I swear.”

“It’s fine.” You raise your head to look up at him. “I got myself in this one.”

“I’ll still make it up to you.”

“Mr. Soot?” A young girl asks, approaching your desk. Her eyes flicker between Wilbur and you. “Are you two… dating? Do you like like each other?”

Wilbur laughs, and you grin.

“No, Tally, we’re not dating.” He sighs. “We’re married.”

She shrieks, turning around to face three other girls who all have too-big guitars on their laps. “They’re married!”

“Oh, God.” You laugh. “Wil, you just opened a can of worms.”

“They’ll forget it by tomorrow. Hopefully.”

[bsgpiece]

Really enjoy reading your thoughts and seeing your artwork on SaNami moments. You capture them so well! I'm sure you get plenty of these kinds of questions so apologies for asking about another one.

What are your thoughts about a SaNami marriage proposal and how do you think it would happen?

Finally I got to answer this question!!! It took me months because I really couldn't decide how it would be. I'm so sorry! First of all thank you so much for saying this, it means a lot to me!!! Hope you like this post as well!

Here goes my thoughts about it... Warning for a VERY LONG post! (Almost a fanfic lol)

Sanji always wanted to marry Nami. Ever since he first saw her! Even more after they shared their feelings for each other, their first kiss...

They weren't even together yet when he bought the ring he would use to propose to her. They had stopped by an island famous for their diamonds, and when he was going to buy supplies, he saw that ring on a jewelry shop.

He just knew Nami-san would love it (he was actually lucky he found it before her, otherwise she would have already stolen it lmao), just didn't know when to give it to her. It had to be on a very special ocasion.

Time passes, the special ocasion never seemed special enough. Deep down he knew it was a engagement ring and it would only suit for a proposal... and then, they got together. Like, all his dreams became true. He could finally ask her to marry him, right?

Could he? Should he? Was he actually enough to give Nami all the wonders she deserved?

It's been some time since he last doubted his value that much. He learned his lesson in WCI, but... would Nami want to spend the rest of her life with him? Because that's what marriage means to him. Could he actually make her happy for that long?

On the other side, Nami always new, deep down, that a relationship with Sanji would last as long as she wanted. She had that kind of power over him, but more importantly, she was completely in love with him. Being with Sanji just gave her that comfort of knowing she would never be alone again, a feeling that she would be happy forever. Yes, forever. If it depended on her, their relationship would be for the rest of their lives.

She just didn't say these things out loud all the time. Nami just assumed, after such long time as nakamas, and then as lovers, Sanji knew this already.

Nami knew Sanji wanted to marry her. He always talked about growing old together, kids and family. But as time passes, she tought it was actually weird he never proposed.

She even started to doubt herself. What if Sanji didn't want to marry her afterall?! What if he didn't love her?

Yeah, no. That's silly.

There's got to be a reason. Nami swore to herself, after rescuing Sanji from WCI that she would not misread his feelings ever again. So she started to provoke him, once in a while showing him pictures of wedding dresses, talking about the married couples they met at islands and how it would be sweet to be like them... sometimes she would even say she always wanted to rob a engagement ring, but didn't have the opportunity.

And then.. she would observe his reaction.

Sanji got nervous a little everytime. However, she could see a spark in his eyes when he said no other woman would look as beautiful as she wearing those dresses... or that any life they chose would be the best, as long as they are together...

But then.. He would sometimes ask her if that's what she wanted. If she could she them together for that long when they saw old couples passing by... How perfect she was and how she deserved the best of the best forever.

And then it clicked her. Yeah, this time she read him well.

That damn traumatized man. How big of a idiot he was. How many times did she have to tell him she loved him? Nami even got a little angry when she realized he was actually insecure.

How can a man like him fight the worst enemies in the world without any fear of death, and at the same time be afraid of being rejected by a woman who openly said the loves him?!?!

Oh well. Guess she did had to give him a little push.

Sanji already planned a thousand times his proposal, but he would never think any of the possibilities were good enough. He was thinking so much about it, trying to get the courage to actually do it, that he would always carry the ring with him anywhere they go.

He never new when or if he would do it. He wanted so, so bad to ask her. He needed to.

One day the crew stopped by an isolated island. There were only a few small villages around, but the place was beautiful. One of the most amazing beaches they ever saw.

Before Sanji could think of anything, Nami asked him to take her on a walk at the beach on sunset. Of course he said yes with big heart eyes.

The crew were all exploring the island while they went the other side, walking by the sand till they were distant enough not to be seen.

Sanji was not prepared by how beautiful Nami looked (he never was). She was wearing a simple, yet gorgeous, green dress. He could see she even put on a little make up. This was an actual date, he thought.

Nami hold his hand really tight, she knew this was her chance to tell him what he needed to hear. This time she was the one who felt nervous.

Nami stopped walking and stared deep into Sanji's eyes for a while, without saying anything. She had planned telling him how she valued him and how she wanted to be with him till her final days. However, when she was about to say anything, she notice Sanji's hands trembling while holding hers.

He started to caress both her hands and looked down at them, avoiding her eyes for a few seconds.

What a big idiot he was.

He knew Nami better than any man ever could.. He connected the dots... Sanji glared back at her, he sensed her uneasiness. How could he doubt himself so much he let her realize that and want to reassure him?

He always admire how smart and determined Nami was. Why would he doubt her decision to be with him?

Suddenly a wave of courage overflowed him, and Sanji got on one knee right in front of her.

He never been so scared in his life, but if he was to be rejected, it better be after actually having the guts to ask her, right?

Nami froze for a second. She was planning on giving him a little push, but she never thought he would actually... propose?! Not that she didn't want it. She never got so many butterflies in her stomach like in that moment. How did he know what she was going to say? Was that observation haki?

Before she could think anything further, he slowly let go one of her hands and got something on his pocket.

Wait, did he actually had a ring all this time?! How didn't she notice? She wasn't the catbuglar she once was... erm, not that it mattered now. She quickly paid attention to him again.. and damn. He opened that little box and showed the most beautiful ring she ever saw in her life (and no one knew about jewelry like she did).

Sanji slowly started to speak, his voice trembling a little.

"N-Nami-san... I'm sorry I took so long to finally do this...

I love you more than anyone or anything in this world. I don't know if I'll ever be enough for you, or if I'll be able to give everything you deserve in this life... But I swear making you happy is and will always be my priority. Even though I'm a big fool...

Will you marry me?"

Damn right you're a fool. She already forgot about the ring while looking into his eyes while he spoke. She couldn't contain her smile.

Finally, she thought.

"Yes, I will."

She said, very affirmative, so he wouldn't misheard it.

His eyes widened, like he wouldn't believe what she just said. In seconds, he couldn't even see her straight for how many full of tears his eyes were.

"R-really? Am I really worth of... of spending the rest of my life with you?"

She sighed. Eyes also tearful.

"Of course, you idiot."

I don't even have to say they hugged and kissed right after!

That day the Thousand Sunny had one of it's biggest parties.

About the wedding itself, let's talk about it some other day!

If you got till here, hope you enjoyed it.

I would love to hear everyone thoughts!!! 🧡💙

[letsboldlygomotherfuckers]

please drop the cherik fic you mentioned on the wounded character post <3 <3 (and like... any other cherik recs on your mind lol please and thank you)

I'm so glad you asked lol

Rumor Has It by blueink3

Words: 166,073 Chapters: 47/47

Summary

"Did I hear the doorbell earlier?" "Yeah, but I'd steer clear if I were you. It seemed a little tense. I don't know what's going on, but there's a kid out there who looks freakily like the prof." Nearly six months after Cuba, Charles' life is turned upside down for the second time. Though he's slowly learning to adapt to the first, he's not sure he can handle the second. Luckily for him, there are a few people out there more than willing to help.

this fic is an absolute beast but god the domesticity, I'm not normally one for kidfics but this fic has me by the throat honestly, absolutely wonderful injured erik AND hurt charles. they take it in turns to get fucked up <3

The Last Love Song & Testament of Charles F. Xavier by midrashic

Words: 20,139 Chapters: 1/1

Summary

When Erik is accused of domestic terrorism, Charles has no choice but to marry him to keep him out of jail.

activist charles and erik!au, Erik gets arrested for "domestic terrorism" for protecting charles at a rally turned riot, charles will have to testify against him and decides marrying him is the only way out of that. the yearning in this is actually off the charts it's so insane they're both so fucking stupid

Idiot Control Now by cygnaut for QueenZenobia

Words: 3,941 Chapters: 1/1

Summary

Hank screws something up in the lab and everyone's powers increase tenfold. Not knowing how to control them like this, they all try to cope and not kill each other by mistake while Hank tries to find a way to reverse the effects. Charles has a particularly hard time of it.

this one is so soft, I love Charles completely out of his mind with his telepathy going haywire reaching for Erik's comfort

Five Nights In Nuremberg by FuryRed

Words: 26,138 Chapters: 5/5

Summary

When Charles escapes from the mutant prison he has been held in for the last two years he knows that he’s going to need help to avoid being recaptured. What he doesn’t expect is that help will come in the form of a mysterious German man who rescues Charles and takes him to his home; a handsome stranger who, frustratingly, doesn’t speak a single word of English…

this one is so gentle!!!!! erik looking after charles and charles learning to trust him despite temporarily not having his telepathy is so soft, and it's a really interesting character study with basically no dialogue used/dialogue where you and they can only understand half of it (unless you're a german speaker in which case I am jealous of you <3)

Blessed is the Match Consumed by cygnaut

Words: 19,705 Chapters: 1/1

Summary

"This isn't a concentration camp," Delta says, calm, like he's been rehearsing it. Erik looks at the gun on his hip, the guards behind him in the corridor, the bars between them. He smiles with a lot of teeth. "I think I'd know that better than you."

AU in which the beach divorce didn't happen and Erik decides to stay and help Charles start his school. But despite their clean break, the government isn't ready to let the mutants disappear into hiding.

this one isn't cherik but it is an absolutely wonderful Erik character study, dadneto vibes, the scene where he gets put in the same position his mother was in was insane

through your eyes I see by boldlytothestars

Words: 5,490 Chapters: 1/?

Summary

“He was connected to Shaw when he died,” Raven snarls, shoving at Erik's shoulder harshly. It’s not enough to break his concentration, but it wasn’t meant to be. “It’s blown his shields wide open, what do you think this will do to him? He’s inside the head of every last man in those ships. Fuck them, I don’t care whether they live or die, but do you really think he’ll survive that?” She gestures back to Charles’ broken form on the floor, a thousand men screaming in terror in his head. “Been an honour- oh god I didn’t say- I want to go home- oh fuck, oh fuck- they can’t- will it hurt- no, no, no- please god- let it be quick-” Charles has stopped shouting but his broken, terrified pleading is almost worse. And, oh god, it’s not an option at all. The missiles explode midair.

what if it was erik's choice to stop the missiles to protect charles rather than an accident distracting him? charles got real fucked up by being in shaws brain as he died, shameless self plug xo

[venus-vermillion01]

Shrubs, punches and hugs Ryomen Sukuna x reader

Female reader implied,

Warnings: none , some angst

This is unbelievable you two have been at this like cats and dogs since you two were kids. Don’t you think it’s time to grow up ,” your mother reprimanded you simply scoffing at her. Focusing your attention to the passing houses, students walking from school and domesfic living occur through the car wondow.

" your lucky to not have been suspended and left with a warning," she added . yoi simply closed yoir eyes and continued to ignore the chastising , letting the cold ice numb your balled hand. Honestly yoi wanted to see Yuji but considering your in this predicament because of his brother his parents would not openly greet you .

this was only junior high . and it has always been like this grapple between you and Sukuna. Yet it wasnt hate at first sight when yoi two where toddlers , little yn tried to befreind Yujis brother ready to share her cookies . In ended with tears and a new found dislike to the supposed twin of her best friend. more like complete oppositesbof the spectrum.

"You know he likes you," Megumi one day added eating away at his popsicle so nonchslanthly like itvwas so obvious. He eyed your bruised hand . "Who Yuji?" everyone knew you liked yuji but ge was so oblivious it hurt. hence it burned a hole in yoif chest when he staryed dating. mwgumi scoffed, shaking his head. " No sukuna,"

tch :/ now it was your turn . "No he doesnt, i woulsnt punch the boy i liked plus the boy i liked woilnt have instigated it ," you fiddled with the popsicle stick reflecting on that day .

Lost in thought you decided that to night you don’t know if you were asking for a death warrant or overall crazy .

“ You two fight like an old married couple ,” Nobara quipped coming back from the convenience store, now just waiting in Yuji,”Your nose crinkled stepping away from the group more in disbelief that your friends could be suggesting such a thing. “ Not you too. Sukuna is the last person I will date , besides we both hate each other ,”

“not entirely true , there is some mutual respect between yall . I mean he listens to you more than the rest of us and can hold some sort of conversation with you,” Nobara stated .

Pondering for a moment , Nobara was right in a way but minus the romanticism of y’all’s odd relationship. Groaning , than that decided your fate tonight.

Your heart yearned for Yuji

….

The leaves crunched under your weight, the ivy groaning from the multiple climbs you had done on this wall. It was far too dark for anyone to see anything yet you memorized every foot hold and hand placement to climb up to the window. You winced as your hand still in pain from being overworked.

This masochist better be awake you grumbled under your breath. The fall air wasn’t helping the crisp air nipping your face and exposed skin. Finally reaching the window where red light illuminated .

Taking a deep breath , you tapped on the window before you backed out on your decision. Please be asleep please be asleep. You silently chanted.

The sudden weight change in the ivy brought your attention, its integrity slowly breaking aw-ay. “ What are you doing here idiot?” Sukuna mused at the scene, clearly pleased. Swallowing your pride along with your fear of falling. “ I came to say Sorry about the punch and Thanks in a way for taking the hit ,” confessing.

It was only between the three of you who knew the truth behind the scene: sukuna , un, and Yuji gf.

“ Don’t mention it , it’s the only time you’ll be able to land a hit on me ,” he peered at you . Sukuna knew why you wanted to beat the crap out of Yuji girlfriend, her intentions to use his brother were subtle but obvious to people who cared about him or loved him. It’s why it pissed him off that his brother didn’t choose you , but better for him in a way. “ So truce ,” you added looking to him, feeling small under his looking presence and dark shadow. His room emitted heat, providing some relief from the chilling air. Although ominous scene from afar there was warmth you could find solace in this fall night.

“For now ,” he chuckled. The sound of an instant snap and your body faltering down brought both of attention to the same thing. Without a pause , you felt your feet and hands slide against the shrubbery , while an iron grip onto your forearms held you steady.

Sukuna thightend his shoulders, his hair lifting on the nape trying to pull Yn up. Yn nervously laughed trying to catch her footing again , slowly and steady climbing though the window. Sukuna held you tightly around the waist, hoisting you easily through, your heart racing from the adrenaline .

Now there you were , in the room of your supposed nemesis but all grateful he didnt drop you. “ Thanks , I thought you would have let me fall,” you nervously laughed.

Sukuna shook his head, “ I wouldn’t let you fall dumbass. What do you take me for?” He continued to grip onto your arms as if you were still falling. It then dawned on you , he was worried genuinely.

“ A maniac, delinquent, should I go on,” you stepped away from him, a little uncomfortable with the close proximity you had been to him. It felt like you were cheating on your own emotions.

“Are you hurt ?” He inquired impulsively grabbing your hands tracing around the bleeding cuts, being much more gentler with the bruising . Sukuna brushed off your comments, called worse .

His hands were like a heater, stinging against your cold fingers. Jerking your hands away, "I should leave before Yu..." you stopped, cursing yourself for not thinking of what you were saying. Sukuna rolled his eyes, finally stepping away from you. "Yuji, is an idiot and he won't ever see more than a friend any time soon." Of course Sukuna knew , he hated how you stared at his brother. He wanted to be the one to take you and from school. Be the one to be adored by you, see you be able to relax around him rather than tense up. To not be stared with dislike yet did like the banters the two of you shared. You stood your ground the first day he meet you, even as children, you didn't submit to his antics and returned with equal force. Going as far as horse playing with one another, it was as if you didnt care you were a girl. You weren't going to put up with any of it. A real spit fire, thats why he liked you.

You fell silent, looking away knowing he spoke the truth but continued being naive. His gaze burned a whole in you, shifting your weight unsure how to respond. "Yuji ... is ..ugh.. " getting tongue tied, letting out a sigh. "He is happy and oblivious so I'll stay away and watch from afar," Sukuna smirked, knowing the feeling all to well of what you described.

"Sit, I'll get some band aids," he ordered, leaving the room. "It's fine really," . "I wasn't asking," and that was the end of that conversation.

Taking a seat at his bed, you pondered on Megumi's words. he likes you Tsk. A box plopped beside you caught your attention. Bandaids and alchohol swabs.

"You still mopping about my brother," Sukuna knelt infront grabbing your hands once again. Why am I letting this happen? It was odd being able to see the top of his head, the only times when you were tackling him now him willingly cleaning your scrapes.

"No.. its just Fushiguro said something funny today. That you liked me." you instantly laughed looking away the moment he stared up at you. "I mean funny right, you liking me. We barely tolerate each other," your heart started to race. The air was thick enough a butter knife would be able to slice it .

"I could treat you better than my brother ever would," he added, making your turn 180, eyes widening with surprise. The Apple of your cheeks burning up. “ Ryomen, do you hear yourself ? This is a joke right,” hoping this was a joke.

Sukuna remained eerily calm , pressing the alcohol swab lightly on the cuts when he noticed you wince. “You’re just blind as that dumbass . But yes , I like you,”

There was nothing to be said.

“ Cat got your tongue. Don’t worry I’m not asking you to be my girlfriend not until I make you fall crazy in love me,” sukuna triumphantly added, so sure of himself that it would happen.

“ I’ll wait for you and keep trying until you forget about my brother,” placing the last bandage in place .

There was no longer a chill , and the heat was starting to exceedingly burn your cheecks. You ve never had anyone feel this way about you much less never expecting it from Sukuna. His vow to continue winning you over made butterflies in your stomach. “ You’ll get tired of me,”

“I tolerate you,” he rebuffed seating at the floor crossing his legs .

“You’ll get bored of me,”

“ hardly, you’re interesting and make good arguments,” he raised an eyebrow . He knew what you were doing, although not liking you doubting him, he played along with your game.

“I don’t like intimacy,” you diddled your fingers together yet sukuna interlocked his hands onto yours and pulled you forward . Gasping as you collided against his chest, awkwardly hugging him . “Neither do I , but it’s cuz you’ve never been with anyone, your so stubborn only letting my brother be with you ,”

You scowled at him, pushing yourself away from him only to tethered by his arm wrapped around your waist. "Oh really, I think your reputation at school would say otherwise," Sukuna had looped a finger aorund your belt loop, dragging you foward and this time seating you in his lap. "Ryomen this is goign to far," you cried out, flustered, your heart colliding against your rib cage. He laced his arms around your waist, despite faliling he waited till you calmed down. "Its not my fault they come after me, and yes I like the things they give me but never have I dated any of those tramps," he was sure.

Yn body slackened against Sukuna's. Placing her head against his collar and inhaling his cologne, much different from Yuji's more mature she guessed. The whisp of her hair would gently blow as he would exhale, his hand not doing much but secure her. She was feeling sleepy all of a sudden.

"So you'll wait for me?" Was she actually agreeing to his terms.

She could feel the vibrations of his chuckle through her back. A gentle massage , like her own personal chair. Why was she feeling so sleepy all of a sudden. Her eyes closing momentarily

"I've been waiting since we were kids,"he soflty added, after not hearing a reponse from you yet only your body going limp, did he realize you fell asleep. "Ill wait as long as you need me too," he mumbled allowing you to rest for a bit longer, there was no rush enjoying the embrace he longed for.