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sweetshuga · 20 days ago

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𝑭𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒔𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝟐 ✧ 𝑪.𝑺

───~𓆩♡𓆪~───

𝒃𝒔𝒇.ᐟ𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔! Giving him head after midnight. "That’s it... Jus’ like that–oh, fu—ck, you’re takin’ me so deep."

𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒂. «𝑭𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕» «𝑻𝒉𝒊𝒓𝒅 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕» «𝑭𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒕𝒉 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕»

𝒘𝒄. 𝟐.𝟒 𝒌

𝒂𝒏. My bad for the wait, and since there were quite a few requests for a part 2, here it is my pretty gals<333

𝒑𝒔𝒂. English is not my first language! || Every part can be read as a standalone!

The car ride back was full of laughter – as per usual, and you had switched seats with Matt since he was the one driving, but as you talked with Nick, you couldn’t help but notice how awfully quiet Chris was.

Both Nick and Matt seemed to notice that his usual outbursts of energy were gone, somehow. He was fidgety and looked like he was in agony. His expression was one of frustration, and he shifted in his seat every few minutes, avoiding eye contact.

"You okay?" Matt asked, glancing briefly at Chris before shifting his gaze back to the road.

Chris hummed, totally unenthusiastic as he replied. "Yeah, just..." He breathed out, "Jus’ a bit tired." 'Classic, chalking it up to exhaustion, great job, totally believable Chris.' He thought to himself as he shifted again, letting out a quiet annoyed groan.

Matt nodded, "We’ll be home soon," he said reassuringly. Even though he didn’t quite buy the excuse, he knew better than to ask more questions since Chris seemed genuinely frustrated so he simply decided to drop it for now and focused on driving.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ 𝟏𝟓 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒖𝒕𝒆𝒔 𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒓

The moment Matt killed the car engine, Chris practically hopped out of the car and rushed inside and straight to his room, calling out to you three about needing the bathroom or something along those lines.

He immediately got inside his bedroom and locked the door for good measure and plopped on his sofa, letting out a small shaky breath.

"Fuck, what’s wrong with this thing," he mumbled to himself – referring to his rock hard dick. "Can’t fuckin’ believe this shit," he groaned before quickly pulling down his sweats until mid thigh. His hefty length sprung free, bobbing obscenely before he wrapped his long fingers around it.

Chris let a satisfied moan slip before remembering that you and his brothers are probably inside the house by now so he opted to bite his lips to suppress those needy moans.

He didn’t even need any lubricant thanks to all his precum oozing out of his tip. He slowly spread his dripping arousal all around his shaft before starting to move his hand faster.

Chris’ hand moved feverishly over his aching cock, the head already raging red from neglecting it for so long. He leaned back against the backrest as he stroked himself faster, groaning lowly and mumbling profanities.

"Fu—ck, feels s’good," he whispered to himself as he imagined your hand jerking him off instead. His eyebrows knitted together and eyes closed shut as his head fell back, thumping softly against the wall.

He brought his free hand to his cock, palming the tip as his right hand moved faster, gripping himself a bit more.

He was starting to have difficulty staying quiet.

"Oh fuc--- fuuuck," he let out a quiet chocked moan as he neared his release rather quickly. His hips jerked and thighs trembled as he worked himself closer and closer to that euphoric feeling. The band in his abdomen was taut, ready to snap any moment and one particularly hard swipe of his palm on his tip did it for him.

Oh, fuck, he was coming, and a lot at that.

Milky rope after rope of cum shot out of his tip, landing on his hand as he finally let out a moan. The sound of unadulterated pleasure and satisfaction slipping past his lips involuntarily. His hips bucked slightly with each rope, bliss etched on his features as he stroked himself slowly to prolong his high.

After a few seconds, the aftershocks finally subsided and his body slumped against the sofa. His breathing was still ragged as he reached over for the tissue box and took a few tissues before wiping his hands with it. Tossing it in the trashcan, he finally acknowledged what he just did.

Post-nut regrets.

He couldn’t believe he got rock hard, jerked off and came to fantasies of his own best friend. "What did I just do?" He mumbled to himself, putting his head in his hands as he groaned in annoyance.

This is so not helpful, not at all.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ 𝑨 𝒇𝒆𝒘 𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔 𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒓 – 𝟏𝟐:𝟒𝟑 𝒂𝒎 (𝟎𝟎:𝟒𝟑)

Matt and Nick both had (surprisingly) gone to bed and were already snoozing away, but Chris was still playing games on his computer. Still hung up and worrying over his newfound feelings and desires.

He sighed and slumped back against his gaming chair when his character died in the game. The screen showed a slight reflection of the uncertainty etched all over his face.

"This is bad—" "What is?" He jumped in his chair, not having heard you enter his room.

His eyes were wide and a hand on his chest, "Don’t you fucking know how to knock? You fuckin’ scared me, nearly killed me bruh." You raised your eyebrows at the defensive tone he was using, awfully worked up over the scare like he was hiding something he should be guilty of.

You chuckled and walked over to him, standing behind him as you leaned down slightly to look at what he was playing.

'Fortnite? Typical him.' You thought as you unconsciously moved closer to him, your chest almost flush against the back of his head.

Chris froze, the proximity was dangerous and he could feel himself slowly getting a boner.

Not again.

He shifted in his seat, his tongue darting out to wet his lips in an unconscious habit. He swallowed thickly, his breath hitching when you practically pushed your breasts against the back of his head when you reached for something on his desk.

"C-can you like move away? You’re too close, kid." He cursed internally at the slight stutter and overall nervousness exuding from his tone and words.

You took the half-full can of Pepsi from his desk, "Can I have a sip?" Chris nodded, "Yeah, jus’ hurry and get out and go to bed or sum’." You took your sip and put it back on his desk, brushing your breasts against the back of his head yet again.

Just as you were going to say something, your gaze dropped down to his lap. Your eyes widened like saucers when you saw the clear bulge in his shorts.

Chris’ gaze dropped down as well, seeing what you were seeing, and his face paled. "Fuck," he groaned aloud as he quickly put his hands over his boner.

His head shot up and he looked at you with nervous eyes, his lips slightly parted to say something, but closed as quickly, not knowing what to say.

After a few awkward seconds, he finally mustered up the courage to talk. "I can explain."

Cliché.

What could he say otherwise? That your boobs grazing his head made him act like a hormonal teenager? Or that he sooo desperately wants to bend you over his desk and—

"Should I help...?" The question hung in the air, dispersing all thoughts from his head.

Chris stared at you for a solid minute, long enough to make you regret your words and just as you were about to backpedal, he spoke again. "What?" He asked dumbly.

You fidgeted with the hem of your thin cotton sleep shorts, suddenly feeling nervous as well as you cleared your throat and spoke in a quieter voice. "I mean, I can help... should I? It looks painful..." your voice trailed off when your eyes darted down to his boner yet again, now covered by his hands.

"Actually, that– never mind, I don’t know why I just asked you that, sorry I’ll uh... I’ll get going, good night." You rapidly babbled, looking away, and turned your heel before starting to walk away.

"Wait!" Chris shouted, causing you to jolt in surprise and halt in your step.

You slowly turned around and tilted your head to the side in pure bewilderment. "Uh... Yeah? What’s got your panties in a twist?" You tried to joke, but even a toddler would be able to tell that you were extremely flustered.

"I... Uh... Just–just come here will ya?" He whispered, his voice uncharacteristically quiet as he cleared his throat and looked away. "Please?" He looked at you again, this time with clear need in his eyes that made your knees weak.

You found your body unconsciously moving towards him and before you knew it, you were standing beside him.

Chris turned his chair to face you fully and gently grasped your wrists, pulling you so you were standing in between his spread legs. He looked up at you, his pupils dilated and pink lips parted slightly as his chest heaved slowly with ragged breaths. His gaze drifted to your lips and back to your eyes a couple times.

"I don’t mind, you know... your offer to help," he whispered, his gaze was locked on your lips the whole time before finally making eye contact again. His eyes, alone, plead for you to go through with your offer.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ 𝟓 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒖𝒕𝒆𝒔 𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒓

You sat on your knees on the ground, a pillow under your knees for more comfort. Your hands rested on his thighs as you looked up at him. "You ready?"

Chris nodded, lifting his hips slightly when you reached to tug down his shorts. He could feel his heart beating rapidly in anticipation and excitement. He let out a low groan when his aching dick was freed from the fabric of his clothes. Standing tall and proud at attention.

"Oh...?" you breathed out, genuinely impressed by his size as you tentatively wrapped your hand around it. "You’re huge," you mumbled, more to yourself than him, but it reached his ears nonetheless and your words only added to the desperate need for your mouth on him.

"Please, ma, please suck me off, I need to feel your warm mouth around me, please?" All dignity was gone in that moment, he didn’t even feel the slightest bit of embarrassment when he begged.

He was too far gone.

You complied, wanting to taste him as much. You leaned down and licked a stripe up the underside of his cock, flattening your tongue as you did so. When you reached the tip, you swirled your tongue around his head, eliciting muffled moans from him.

This was exactly what he needed, what he craved.

You teased him for a bit, licking and kissing his shaft, but not quite sucking him off yet.

Chris could feel his abs tighten slightly, each lick from you making him more and more needy. "Fuck, stop teasin’ me, you’re playing unfair." He groaned as he gently gripped your wrist.

You finally relented and wrapped your lips around his tip and slowly started to bob your head. Each movement eased more of his length in your mouth until you took almost all of him before pulling it out of your mouth with a wet pop, gasping softly for air as you pumped his shaft with your hand before taking him in your mouth again.

You looked up at him as you bobbed your head, seeing his face contorted in such ecstasy as he bit down on the back of his hand to muffle his needy moans made your pussy throb and your knew your panties were definitely drenched at this point.

You kept the rhythm, humming around his length encouragingly when you felt his hips buck slightly and he took it as a sign to let loose and held your head in place before starting to fuck up into your mouth.

You gagged slightly at first from the sudden depth he was reaching, but quickly relaxed your throat muscles and let him face-fuck you.

"That’s it... Jus’ like that–oh, fu—ck, you’re takin’ me so deep." Chris rasped as he pushed himself balls deep, holding you there until you slapped his thigh repeatedly. He slowly pulled his length out of your mouth, letting you cough and gasp for much needed oxygen.

"Sorry," he whispered as he wiped a small bit of saliva on the corner of your lips. He stood up from the chair, holding the base of his rock hard cock right in front of your face.

He guided the head of his cock to your lips again, nudging against it, "C’mon, ma, open those pretty lips up f’me, yeah? Take me deep like that again, wanna feel you suffocatin’ on my cock."

You obliged, parting your lips and wrapping them around his tip as he held your head with both hands, ready to fuck your face again and see those pretty eyes looking up at him with tears in them.

Oh, he could come so many times just from the image alone.

He started to thrust into your mouth again, feeling your nails dig into his thighs as he sped up his movements, but you weren’t complaining, not all. In fact, you were letting him use your mouth however he liked.

Chris’ movements slowly became more jerky as he neared his orgasm, his breathing quickened and so did his pace. His balls slapped against your chin as he fucked your mouth with reckless abandon.

With a final brutal thrust, he spilled deep down your throat, his pelvis nudging against the tip of your nose as he held you in place, making you swallow all of his spend.

You coughed when he finally pulled away, slowly slumping back down onto his gaming chair as he shuddered in aftershocks.

He sighed in contentment as he pulled up to your feet and onto his lap, nuzzling his face in your chest as he wrapped his arms around your waist. Holding you tightly against him as he caught his breath.

"Thank you..." he whispered after a while, lifting his head to look at you.

He chuckled with mirth when he saw your flushed face, "You look all hot and bothered." He joked, but you were all hot and bothered so to prove it, you took his hand and led it to your intimate area.

His breath hitched when you guided his hand down to your sleep shorts, which had a wet patch on the crotch area from your arousal. You looked away in embarrassment.

"All this f’me baby?" he tilted his head to the side to catch your eyes, "Getting so wet after suckin’ me off huh?" He chuckled, smirking as he lifted you up and walked over to his bed before gently placing you in the middle.

Chris slowly pushed you down into a laying position with your back flush against the bed. His eyes never left yours, he kept eye contact even while he pulled down your shorts and underwear.

His gaze was absolutely one of hunger as it raked over your half naked state. Settling in between your thighs, his hands gently, but firmly held your thighs in place, not letting you close them.

"Lemme make it up f’ya, let me make you feel good baby," he cooed before dropping his head down to show you heaven.

𓆩♡𓆪

𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕: @emely9274 @chrisfavoritewhore @lilyyliloo @larallott @thebigbadwolfahoooo @strnlslut @knowingnothingnoel @slvtf0rchr1s @sturnioloszn @sofiaaguilaxx @sophand4n4 @mattsfavoritestar @strnilolover @diasturnsth @brookheartsmatt @tpwktahlz @crazychick21 @slut4angstt @pvssychicken @poolover123 @loud-sturniolos @inlovewchrissturniolo @sagesturns @chrisstopherfilmed @splashhsworld @billiesbabya @h3arts4nat @moosegirl96 @urfavallyyy @mattsninja @bilssturns @shadowthesim @ivysturnss @peiivnao @sturniolokaulitz @megluvrr @marrykisskilled @sturniolo-fann @goingtojohnkramershouseee @sturniolosluttt @chrislilcumslvt @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @m00nl1ghts1vt @ribread03 @hearts4werka @whore4mattsturniolo @stvrnzwrld @mattslovergirlie @lovergirl4gracieabrams @s1ut4chris

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majikkulu · 17 days ago

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━━ ❝MASTERLIST❞

in this pick-a-card reading, we’ll dive into what people really have to say about you—whether it’s glowing praise or secret whispers. what’s the tea they spill when you’re not around? remember, this is a general reading — take what resonates and leave the rest.

if you have any ideas for tarot pacs you'd like me to do, feel free to drop them in my ask box, and i'll make it happen!

choose the picture or pile that calls to you and let the magic unfold!

PILE ONE i can tell this pile feels personal—what people say about you hits close to home. they think you're indecisive, struggling to take action or follow through on what you said you'd do. it frustrates them; they feel like you can’t commit to certain things. some even say you’re guarded, mysterious, hard to read. and that only makes them more curious—what’s really beneath all of that? there’s also this idea that you avoid confrontation, preferring to stay neutral. while some see that as wise, others view it as passivity, like you’re afraid to stand your ground. interestingly, one specific person seems to stand out here. they’re obsessively focused on you, constantly talking about you. they might discuss things you’ve been through—maybe toxic relationships, bad habits, or difficult patterns. but it’s not all criticism. a lot of people are fascinated by you. they find you magnetic, charming, even alluring. some are jealous, though. they notice your sensitivity—maybe they’ve seen you cry or assume you’re the type to cry in public. they might even think you look younger than you are, which makes them wonder about your age. there’s also talk about your creativity. whether it’s how you dress or how you express yourself artistically, it leaves an impression. and then there’s the assumption that you’ve “got it all.” some think you’re rich or incredibly successful, even if you don’t feel that way yourself. maybe something big happened recently—an achievement, a win, or an opportunity that others wanted. it’s clear they see your potential, and that potential is both admired and envied. people question if it’s luck or hard work that gets you where you are.

PILE TWO people talk about how cautious you are, how you take your time with everything, and how you question every little detail. to them, it might come off as overly slow or even boring because you’re not impulsive. they see you as someone who hesitates or spends too long planning before acting, and some might say you’re no fun because of it. they notice how you like to have a plan for everything, but they don’t realize that beneath that calm surface lies an inner beast—a strength they can’t begin to comprehend. you handle things with patience and emotional control, and people see that. they talk about how calm you remain, even in serious or emotional situations. it’s like nothing can shake you, and that composure either impresses or frustrates them. some gossip that your strength borders on stubbornness, but let’s be real—that envy stems from wishing they had the kind of self-control you do. there’s competition swirling around you, even if you don’t see it. people notice how you deal with disagreements and conflicts. you’re unbothered, and that drives them crazy. they might talk about how you’re not afraid to speak up, even if it causes tension. they focus on how you defend yourself, how you never back down, even in situations where others think you should. they see you as determined, standing firm in your beliefs and decisions, and that resilience makes some people misunderstand or even resent you. it’s funny, though—they think you provoke them with how you respond or even just with your presence. your energy bothers them, but that’s their problem, not yours. you stand your ground, and that’s what really sets you apart.

PILE THREE people gossip a lot about your quiet nature and what’s going on in your life behind the scenes. they’re curious about what you’re up to, especially since you keep things so private. it’s like your silence sparks endless speculation. some even find you suspicious, questioning your motives, intentions, or honesty—accusing you of being manipulative or using tricks. there’s talk about you avoiding confrontation or shying away from taking responsibility, and for some, this feeds into the narrative of you being a liar. there’s a sense that you’ve distanced yourself from people, maybe even withdrawn completely. this makes others wonder what you’re searching for—your purpose or direction in life. your quietness, while intriguing, can make you hard to approach. some feel like they can’t fully connect with you, as if you’re masking your true self or staying intentionally detached. on the other side, there are those who admire you. they see you as wise and insightful, someone who remains calm and composed even under pressure. your guarded nature and emotional detachment make you magnetic in a way that draws people in, even if they don’t fully understand you. they gossip about how cautious and hesitant you are to take bold risks, calling you predictable. yet, they also acknowledge your ability to handle life’s ups and downs with grace and poise. whether people envy, misunderstand, or admire you, it’s clear that your energy leaves a lasting impression.

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justwinginglife · 5 months ago

Note

Can I please request Soshiro using Weapon 10 for the first time in front of his secret girlfriend (that is also in the Defense Force) and the kaiju read his thought and announces the secret to everyone to hear?

Wingman

Soshiro was stuck in place. Like actually, physically rooted to the ground.

He had been ready for a fight, ready to use his secret weapon, ready to clean up the battlefield in a few minutes flat and be home at a decent enough time to cook you dinner.

But 10 was not having it.

The second that Soshiro had synced with him, all his little secrets went flooding into 10's consciousness. Including the one where he was dating you, which was a secret to the entire Defense Force, and the one where he wanted to propose to you, which was a secret to you.

Soshiro had desperately wanted to show off in front of you, show you what he was capable of in this suit, show you just how much he could protect you, but 10 didn't give a flying fuck what Soshiro wanted.

10 wanted to tell everyone that you belonged to Soshiro. 10 wanted Soshiro to propose to you now, in the middle of a battlefield. And the fact that Soshiro kept the engagement ring on him always in case he found the perfect moment to propose did not help the matter. 10 did not care about the perfect moment, 10 was all about the now.

And it didn't help that when Soshiro had first put on the suit, you had complimented how attractive he looked. 10 took full credit for that compliment and he immediately began liking you. If he could not do this one thing for you, if he could not get Soshiro to steel his nerves and ask you the damn question already, he would have failed you. He would have no honor as a Kaiju.

So there you were, in the middle of a fight, guns blazing, organs flying, and suddenly you noticed Soshiro dropping to his knees, planting them firmly on the bloodied ground. You run over to him, concerned that he might have injured himself.

"Sosh- Vice Captain! Are you... are you okay??"

His face is pained and he's gritting his teeth but you can't find a single injury on him.

"What's wrong, what's going on?"

His head snaps up to you, the movement sudden and seemingly against his will. He bites his lip so much it bleeds and you take a sleeve and start to dab at it worriedly.

"This... this is not... how I wanted... to do this." The words come out strained as his trembling arm reaches for his pocket. He yanks his arm back with his other hand but it's to no avail.

"Do what?" You're starting to get more anxious, wondering why your boyfriend is acting so strange, especially in the most dangerous of places.

You shoot another kaiju away from him as he pulls something out of his pocket.

"I... fuck... fuck, fine. I know, I know, shut up, I'm getting to it. Baby, I love you. This is absolutely not how I wanted to do this, I wanted to be significantly more romantic, but this fuckhead won't let me leave this spot until I do this. So please, love of my life, will you make me the happiest man in the world and marry me? Feel free to say no so that I can propose again in a better place at a better time."

Your eyes widen as he flicks open a ring box and gazes up at you, waiting for your answer.

Then you start laughing. "I think this was the most perfect proposal ever, I'll definitely never forget it now."

He blushes but he lets you continue.

"Yes, baby, I will marry you. There's no doubt about that, there was never any doubt about that. I'll marry the hell out of you. Now please, 10, will you let my fiancee up so I can kiss him?"

You shoot another kaiju out of the way as 10 allows Soshiro to pull himself to his feet.

Finally in control of his own limbs, he pulls you to him, sliding the ring on your finger before devouring your lips in a passionate kiss.

All at once, your comms start to blow up with the voices of your fellow officers ringing loudly in your ears; the thing you hear the most is, "WHAT THE FUCK JUST HAPPENED? DID YALL JUST GET ENGAGED IN THE MIDDLE OF A FUCKING BATTLE?"

Soshiro face palms.

"I'm gonna kill 10."

#kaiju no. 8 #soshiro hoshina #soshiro hoshina x reader #hoshina #anime #oneshot #hoshina x reader #hoshina soshiro x reader #han's library

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shapelytimber · 11 months ago

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Hello my Elder Scrolls tarot deck is tangible now !!

If you want to help fund the project and get a deck (22 cards), come visit the kickstarter page !

Here are all the cards that are in the deck !

(you might see some little differences between these and the ones I had originally posted here. I changed some colors that would have looked horrible once printed, I 'cleaned' them up a bit and modified some details I was not happy with :)

I've been working on this for a long time, and it's finally here ! Unfortunately, printing cards is *expensive*, and I can't drop that much money from my pocket (and not being certain I'll ever see them back-)... So that's why I have set up a kickstarter to cover the printing expenses. It will be up for 40 days (until the 2 april 2024), and I'll need 1200€ to fund the project.

More details about the box, the reward tiers and what countries are available for shipping below vvv

details for the box and personalized 'thank you' card

And here are all the reward tiers !

Shipping is available in all the EU (+switzerland), US and Canada. (Sorry for the uk, but the post brexit shipping paperwork was too difficult for me-)

If you have any questions, feel free to contact me via dm or ask :)

PS : sorry for the tags omfg so many characters

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genderqueerdykes · 5 months ago

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are you trans, intersex, non binary, genderqueer, gender non conforming, gay, a lesbian, bisexual, queer, or something else entirely and are looking for advice on terminology, queer history, and the effects of estrogen and tesotsterone hrt? our ask box is now open!

hello! i'm equinox, i'm a 32 year old intersex transfem/masc genderqueer transfag guydyke. i'm a wo/man, aromantic, and on the asexual spectrum. i'm also disabled, and a mixed black (white passing) queer of color. due to being intersex I am both MtF and FtM, and I have been on both estrogen and tesosterone HRT both "correctively" and by choice, respectively. I have been on testosterone HRT for 9 years and i am so happy that I started it. i have been a part of many queer communities over the years including help staff my college's pride alliance, and working with online queer spaces. we are also working on organizing irl.

if you have any questions on your own identity, terms that may apply to you, suggestions on how to dress or present differently, transmasc and transfemme experiences, looking or applying for resources online or in your community, questions about or sources for queer history, questions about our experiences, intersex identities and experiences, butch lesbian experiences, male lesbian experiences, non binary lesbian experiences, lesbian history, what certain terms mean in comparison to others, discussions of transandrophobia, discussing transmasc & trans men's issues, transmasculine lesbianism, FtM dykes, the punk community, queer punks & punk history, and more, feel free to drop us an ask! we're happy to help!

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hoseoksluna · 2 months ago

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THE FUN DAY, pt. I. | kth ft. pjm

pairing: idol!military!boyfriend!taehyung x f. reader (ft. best friend!jimin)

genre: fluff, angst — the sad kind

word count: 4.8k

summary: you've prepared a fun day for your boyfriend's military vacation. thank god he's here, right?

pin: f. / playlist: fun / taglist: join / discord: join

warnings: suggestive but not described themes of sex and alcohol consumption.

note: i'm so EXCITED to bring you this fic that i can't wait until tomorrow to post this. everyone welcome TAEHYUNG and JIMIN to the hoseoksluna universe. i have to tell you a secret. taehyung was my first bias when i first became army. taehyungie was the first one to save me from the bunch—literally to resurrect me because in him i found all the things i used to love and fell out of. jazz, poetry, the aesthetics and arts. it is an honor to write about him and i think i will write another taehyung fic next week. if you have any ideas, drop them in my ask box and i will use them for inspiration. this fic is dedicated to my baby ruru @tkslovechild, my tatlim @jjk7k, and the beautiful anon that asked me for a tae fic while i was already working on this one. i love you all so much. enjoy this beautiful piece. <3 mwah.

𓂃 ౨ৎ .

I am much too alone in this world, yet not alone enough to truly consecrate the hour. I am much too small in this world, yet not small enough to be to you just object and thing, dark and smart. I want my free will and want it accompanying the path which leads to action; and want during times that beg questions, where something is up, to be among those in the know, or else be alone.

I want to mirror your image to its fullest perfection, never be blind or too old to uphold your weighty wavering reflection. I want to unfold. Nowhere I wish to stay crooked, bent; for there I would be dishonest, untrue. I want my conscience to be true before you; want to describe myself like a picture I observed for a long time, one close up, like a new word I learned and embraced, like the everday jug, like my mother's face, like a ship that carried me along through the deadliest storm.

𓂃 ౨ৎ . — I Am Much Too Alone in This World, Yet Not Alone by Rainer Maria Rilke

It was your love language, to dress up like your boyfriend.

Dress pants, shirts and jackets. Linen, silk, leather. Pointed heels or oxford shoes. Grays, browns, beiges and whites. It was something that made you happy—and it was something that represented a vessel, made of unbreakable porcelain, for your love that you carried for Taehyung.

He’s sitting in the corner of your bedroom, on a wooden stool he specifically placed at such a picturesque place. With the ivory curtains drifting along the nape of his neck, sheer enough to expose the small vase of tulips that stoop in a private longing for his touch. He fondles them often to preoccupy his mind when you take your usual long showers and he waits for the fashion shows you give him. He’s the one who says yes or no. These shoes, love. Look, they’re just like mine. And right at this moment, the wine-yellow petals are caught between his slender fingers when you come out and he doesn’t let go of them—because you’re not holding up the outfit for the day as you always are.

For the fun day as you’ve called it.

You’re dressed in it. Low-waisted gray dress pants with a little, tight, white shirt. Black stilettos, black shoulder purse. Your trench coat is waiting for you in the hall, hung up and lonely, but other than that you’re matching him fully. It feels as though you’re fading into him, becoming a singular being that has his DNA and his beauty, and when he beams up at you, boxy smile on full show, spine straight and tall on the stool, long fingers gripping its rim, Taehyung, with his gray suit and a white shirt, somehow validates that feeling.

Somehow, in that peculiar Taehyung way of his.

He extends his hands towards you, asking for your closeness. There’s a mist of murkiness that envelops him, with the saddened clouds beyond the window, standing in the place of the sun. It moves through you, this image of him reaching for you in this landscape, and you think he deserves to be painted like this. With black charcoal and a little bit of soft carmine to eternalize the blush of his cheeks—the only trace of color in the sketchbook. Your hands don’t know the art of drawing, but your heart does and while you take those necessary steps towards him, you feel the scratches of that dark pencil over that grainy flesh.

His palms find your curves and you consider it unbelievable, the fact he’s still so big, despite the size of the stool and the height of your heels. No matter how much taller you grow, he’ll always be that tower that protects you from the blazing heat of the sun.

He’s the epitome of autumn. No longer a boy, but a man, whose lungs are perfumed by apples, leaves, cinnamon, pumpkin spice and the slight iciness of the seasonal wind. Whose eyes witnessed the growth of your form since you were a little girl with two long braids.

Childhood best friends turned to lovers, favored by the hanging, twinkling stars.

You always saw him the most in autumn. Chasing you down during festivities that your mom couldn’t not be a part of, grabbing a hold of one of your braided pigtails with his already long fingers, then tickling you until you gave up. Ever so easy to catch because of the length of your hair. You knew, even as a little girl, that he was not just a part of your life, but your life itself. More than a companion, more than a friend. You dreamed about having his babies and that dream would come to life through your imagination whenever he would chase you down, years later, in the grand halls of the east wing of his grandiose family home, where nobody ever comes, just to steal a kiss or two. It was the moment you realized that you were no longer kids, even though you acted as such, but that you desired little legs to follow you in the fun of it all.

And that kiss changed every autumn from that year on.

Stolen glances, the blush of cheeks, quivering fingers that no longer grabbed your braids. Not until many autumns later. You gave him your everything, every bit of your newly-bloomed femininity, your dream of having his babies and he folded it into the vinyls of his favorite jazz music that he would play every night whenever he needed inspiration or whenever he simply needed you.

Newly. Not just yet as adults and no longer as kids. Somewhere in between.

And then the duties of adulthood came. The natural process of drifting apart settled between your bodies and you no longer played in the stage between. Taehyung, the saxophone-playing jazz singer, moving foreign bodies into his personal, heart-sung rhythm. Not yours, never yours for a long time. You, working a day job that never paid enough, not for the dresses you yearned to wear at those clubs he would play at.

But what you didn’t know was that drifting apart meant coming together eventually.

He might have become your Turnip Head, silent and distant, but you were Sophie—and you found him. You found him while looking for something, or someone for the lack of better words, and he helped you. Over a cup of coffee he didn’t drink, at a jazz bar you always wanted to come to. Your date was a hit and miss and the guy never came, and your Turnip Head didn’t help you find your Howl.

He helped you find himself. And from that moment on, you never drifted apart again.

Who would’ve thought that seeking a relationship that did not resemble your dream nor your childhood would make you find him all over again.

In autumn, too.

Taehyung paid for your dresses, your female suits, paid for your drinks. Kissed you underneath those dimmed, brown lights before he went off to play songs that moved your body at last. Dancing alone to his songs was your dream come true until he set down his saxophone and joined you. Let his band mates play his favorite Etta James song as he took your hand and drifted upon the dance floor with you. Those who danced before this song sat down, let you have this opportunity for yourself, and Taehyung kissed you, after a long time, after many autumns had passed, right then and there.

And both of you realized that you could never drift apart again. You could only drift together.

You moved in together. He bought you tulips of every possible hue every week. Played you his new songs for you on the saxophone. Took you to art galleries. Took you sightseeing, sometimes alone with you, sometimes with Jimin joining you. Shared your dream about having babies with you and talked about it all the time. Tried it out, seized it many times, though the outcome both of you desired never came. Had a beautiful life with you until…

Until he thinned out into his Turnip Head form and skipped away to fulfill his country duties.

But he’s here. Oh, he’s here. Buff and big, apples, cinnamon and pumpkin spice. Brown eyes that carry the memory of your growth, hands that clutch your hips and that hold the silky memory of your still long braids. Hands that edge around your slightly, barely puffy tummy and that don’t know that you are with a concoction of a small him and you, a divine magical realism, a dream that came true without his knowledge right after the last hours of his military vacation were up and he had to go back to serve the country.

The reason behind this fun day.

The day of his second vacation, the day you tell him.

“You look just like me,” he breathes, the width of his smile never lessening, hands skipping over the space between your hips and your arms and grabbing your hands. It gets to you still, the way his eyes never look up at you, the way they never have, and you feel so sweetly small. Even more so when Taehyung stands to his feet and slides his suit jacket over your shoulders. You become even smaller, a fawn taken care of. A pregnant fawn. “And now you are me.”

Oh, he doesn’t know just how much. Not yet.

He sits back down and gently pushes you to take a step back. On wavering feet, like that freshly-born fawn, you waver on your feet, but Taehyung keeps you stable, leaning forward to make sure you’ve caught your balance. A wisp of his dark hair falls over his eye that he, at last, flicks up at you. And the sensation from it, it is nothing that you ever felt before.

It is a step forward.

It’s something that tells you: go ahead.

You planned to tell him at the jazz bar where he kissed you for the first time as an adult and made you his. But now, now it feels more than right, amidst this strange newness that you don’t think you’ll ever experience again.

You open your mouth, brace yourself, but Taehyung is faster. Ringing fills your ears, the atmosphere around you feels gooey—as if you’re walking through a limbo.

“Jimin will meet us at the park.”

Oh, yes. Walk in the park, a warm drink to go, then the jazz bar. Jimin is having his military break as well, about to sing in Taehyung’s honor, you already knew this, knew he would join you, but being in the presence of your boyfriend, the detail slipped out.

The newness leaves. Taehyung straightens. Towers over you. The normalcy flattens over the chemistry between you and him, the atmosphere lessening to feathery lightness and when you move your arms to give back his jacket, your arms feel as though they’re not your own.

Your smile falls.

Jazz bar it is.

“We should go,” you prompt, turning around, having all the balance in the world as you go fetch your purse and reapply your red lipstick.

Taehyung watches you in the mirror, his boxy grin on eternal display, warming your heart. You think about how you can’t wait until his baby witnesses that smile for the first time—and wonder if God is molding, at this very hour, the same one upon their little face. It brings tears to your eyes, ones that you quickly blink away, and instead you focus on lining your lips with the tip of the lipstick with utmost precision.

In your vast collection of lip liners, you don’t have a red one. Truth be told, you always feared this vibrant color. It represented a stigma you never liked—that only promiscuous women wear that color, but to you it was never that.

It was a color that meant you lose your girlhood, your childhood upon wearing.

And now, it is a color that announces the next era of your life: adulthood, but different, painted with motherly instincts that are of these vibrant hues. Womanhood. No longer fearful, but brave.

Right.

You want your baby to connect this color to you and know that you made it. You waited your whole life for their father and gave it to him in one of the autumns as a child. Without knowing, without realizing.

That color is a legacy.

As if he could hear your thoughts, Taehyung kisses the back of your head, halting your motions. Wraps his arms around you as he props his chin on the place he kissed—and right here, right now, you’re looking at a family portrait in the mirror.

A living, breathing one. With lifting chests in tandem, growing smiles and a growing baby in your womb.

Magical realism in full effect.

And then Taehyung is off to fetch your trench coat, holding it up for your arms to slip inside its sleeves. Grabs your hand and revels in the autumn weather outside, boxy smile never faltering. Sings in the car on the way to the park, makes eye contact as he mouths the lyrics—kiss me once and kiss me twice, then kiss me once again, it’s been a long, long time—because he could never sing over that part. It’s too precious to his heart for him to do so.

The wind accompanies you and grabs your other hand as you walk down the pathway lined with half-barren trees and a still pond. Taehyung hums the Bing Crosby song that seems to be playing on loop within his mind and it is the only greenery that spreads around through his husky voice. All else—the pond, the trees and the last of their leaves that dance around you, the shrubberies and the clouds up above—are smeared with sullen blues and grays, to which Taehyung is everlastingly immune.

Jimin is standing by an antique coffee stand, dressed to the nines in an outfit he most definitely must be cold in. Black dress pants with a jacket that stuns you. A matching Hussar one, with golden braiding. A military piece of clothing from another time. You think it suits the fun day quite delightfully, but not as much as it suits him. The golden detail goes hand in hand with his golden hair and you think he needs his picture taken.

“Jimin!” you call out, making his confused little face turn in your direction, and he swivels his body to face you altogether. He holds two cups of coffee in both of his hands, one for him and one for you. You melt at that and look up at Taehyung to see his boxy smile ever so frozen and beautiful, pointed at his best friend.

When you reach him, he hugs you. His cold skin stings you and you quickly warm him up with rubbing motions against his back. Scrunch your brows in puzzlement when he doesn’t hug Taehyung nor even look at him.

But all is swept away when Jimin exclaims in discomfort and takes a rapid sip of his boiling drink.

“Jimin, where’s your coat?” you ask him in pity, watching him shake and moan in pain once he burns his tongue. He uses the cup to warm up both of his hands.

“I didn’t think Paris would be so cold in October,” he explains in a hushed, livid tone, drawing the rim of the paper cup back to his lips as if he didn’t learn his lesson. Typical Jimin. “But this outfit is for Taehyung anyways, so I’ll survive.”

He talks of him but he doesn’t look at him. Makes heart eyes at the misting coffee, instead. Like Taehyung isn’t here at all.

Strange.

You shake off the thought.

“Go stand by the pond before you freeze. I want to take a picture of you,” you say, softly, pulling your phone out of your purse. Glancing up, you expect Jimin to be ready with his pose, but he’s looking at you as if you said the most outrageous thing in the world. Eyes wide, mouth downturned in horror. You laugh and place a hand on his arm. “Go, Jimin. This is a special day and special days ask for special pictures.”

Jimin sighs and nods, despite the fact he doesn’t really look like he wants to do it.

“Fine, but I’m keeping the coffee in my hand.”

Your tender laughter prolongs. “Fair enough. Go pose with your little heat pack.”

Gazing out at the pond, Taehyung is already standing there. With his brown coat over his gray suit, he coalesces with the autumnal scenery and you think he belongs there. That a statue should be made of him right where his feet are planted, for people to remember and appreciate his beauty. You snap a few pictures of him before Jimin makes his way towards the stone bannister and stops right in front of Taehyung, who towers over him. Jimin lifts his cup and smiles a little tight smile, the mist from his coffee eclipsing over him like a soft fog. Switching to portrait mode, Taehyung is gone by the time your screen clears out and shows Jimin by his lonesome self, setting his coffee cup down on the bannister and turning around for some dramatic, aesthetic shots. Taehyung laughs in your ear, catches your slipping purse and places it back on your shoulder, and what he says next gives your life a whole new meaning.

“Jimin is cute, but he’s strong and sane enough to protect you while I’m gone.”

You pivot back, piercing your sight right through him, not believing those words were just flung out of him like that. Taehyung never mentioned you having a protector while being in the military and even the whole concept of it confuses you even deeper as Jimin is serving as well. He might not be in the special forces like your boyfriend is, but he’s serving nonetheless. The systems are the same, no matter the department.

Before you can ask him what he meant by that, the sing-song tone of Jimin’s voice reaches you. He calls out your name with a bit of alarm.

“What’s wrong?”

You gaze back and meet his eyes in full motion—he’s already taking long steps towards you and grabbing your arm, taking your confusion to another level.

“What happened?” he asks, his pupils thin dots that ripple through your skin with stiff, panicky electroshocks. You glance back at Taehyung to discover that he’s not standing behind you at all, but behind Jimin, clutching his shoulder.

You blink. “Nothing.”

Jimin lets go of your arm and inhales the autumnal air. The pond, suddenly, heaves.

“Let’s go somewhere warm,” Jimin suggests and you agree with him with a nod of your head. Pinpricks of iciness kisses your fingertips, despite the fact you’re still holding your own cup of coffee that Jimin bought you.

A strange feeling seizes you.

The jazz bar is an embrace of snug heat that embraces your womb first before greeting the rest of your body. You can’t help but to touch your baby, say to her in your heart: this is your Daddy’s most favorite place in the whole wide world. And the feeling is so surreal that it washes away the strange sensation that clung to you so heavily.

You’re the first customers to come. Jimin sighs in absolute relief and he’s standing in the middle of the dance floor, frozen in time, as he lets the warmth of the place defrost his bones. Your cup of coffee was long finished and discharged; Jimin’s drank his in long sips that took seconds to finish, too, and the whole ordeal was so funny to you that it’s given you a sense of lightness that you needed.

Taehyung hasn’t spoken a word since you left your apartment.

He sits at the bar stool like he sat in your shared bedroom. One leg propped on the footrest while the other is relaxed on the floor, one hand folded on the apex of his thigh, the other drumming on the bar while the band he doesn’t know is rehearsing their instruments. You take a seat right beside him and feel like the parents you’re about to become. Sophisticated, classical, sublime.

The pretentious kind, but in a good way.

That thought makes you smile softly until the bartender asks you if you’d like anything. You politely decline her, even though you’d love a glass of wine with the daddy to be beside you. You can’t drink, not for many months to come. You wait for her to ask Taehyung the same question, but she doesn’t even lift her eyes to his direction. She wipes down the wood of the bar and leaps away.

Nobody fucking asks Taehyung anything.

Amidst a hearty guitar strumming solo, Jimin notices the furrow of your brows, the downturned pout of your mouth that opens to ask Taehyung about the strangeness that keeps occurring today. But before you get the words out, Jimin calls out your name into the microphone, the vowels made sweet by the sound of his princely voice. He stands with the band behind his back, his Hussar jacket exquisitely fitting the dimmed background. He holds out his hand for you, a poignant glint perched on top of his irises, and he flattens his puffy, pink lips.

“Don’t be sad. Tonight is for Taehyung and all sadness is prohibited,” he says with his feigned announcer articulations, the corners of his mouth rounding in a similar manner to yours, in sympathy. “We will have to kindly ask you to leave if you proceed in your sadness. Please, join me here.”

You roll your eyes, but the smile gracing your features couldn’t be erased even with the force of the whole wide world. You stand to your feet and paddle your way to him, the heels of your stilettos clicking on the worn parquets. Jimin gives you a soft grin and places his microphone down, meeting you halfway on the dance floor and taking your hand.

It is when he begins to sing, just for you, that you perceive that the instrumental song the guitarist played is one, which is contained in one of Taehyung’s vinyls. The ones he would play in the darkest of nights and sing the lyrics to your bare body. Tears prick your waterline when Jimin guides you into a gentle slow dance while maintaining the tones of the song with utmost perfection.

And Taehyung is carried in every languid motion and in every vocal cord that is strained upon this hour in his honor.

I’m in the mood for love, simply because you’re near me…

You gaze back at Taehyung, who sits still and smiles his boxy smile. Frozen and beautiful, but unbreathing.

Still and unbreathing.

Frozen.

You halt your movements.

Jimin stops the dance, ends the song with a deep hum that pulses through you along with the notion that something isn’t right, but very, very wrong.

“I wish Taehyung were here,” Jimin says with a deep sigh, holding both of your hands, and an uncanny, perplexing feeling constricts your throat.

Your breath shivers, vision blurry. “But he is here.”

Jimin lets go of your hands and you lament his touch. You need to be touched because you feel yourself shrinking into a fawn most vulnerable that doesn’t know what’s real anymore. A fawn just born, pathetically ignorant of the world and of her loved ones.

“I know, but I wish he were here for real.”

A cold sweat drips down your spine, paralyzing you. Your constricted throat dries up like a well and you can’t swallow. You can’t think, you can’t blink—your lungs can’t lift to inhale any air and they mirror Taehyung’s still ones, unbreathing.

It is a surprise to you, the question that flows out of you.

“Jimin, who is sitting at the bar?”

A wrinkle forms between his brows as he sweeps his gaze over all those bar stools and doesn’t linger at the occupied space that you know is there. A perturbing energy thuds in his eyes once he returns them to yours, and that alarming potency in him rises once again.

“Who do you see there?” he asks, carefully, leaving his mouth parted as he anticipates your answer.

You peer back behind you and don’t find any bar stools occupied. Not single one.

No Taehyung, smiling his boxy smile.

No Taehyung behind Jimin.

No Taehyung behind you.

A sob rumbles out of you in unison with your realization that you were, indeed, very wrong. You catch your sob, covering your mouth with your fingers as your tears spurt down onto your cheeks.

And then the memories arrive, the reality.

But Jimin ceases their flow with the warmth of his even more careful question.

“Did you see him at the park, too?”

You can only nod, but you can’t look at him. You stare at nothing in particular and it seems that what Jimin has ceased, he allows to stream through the pond of your thoughts, accompanied by his vocalized truth.

“Taehyung isn’t here. He should’ve been here with us, but he had to go to North Korea. There was a conflict, remember? You know this.”

Taehyung’s apologetic text message appears before your eyes. The letter that came first before his phone call, where he explained to you that he can’t have his vacation and visit you because he has to go and save his country. The real, known reason between the pair of you and Jimin behind this fun day. To honor Taehyung for what he’s doing. The day you wanted to share, as well, that you were pregnant.

The aloneness has gotten to you, helped by your blessed state. Confused your mind to the point that you imagined him here when he’s not here at all.

Jimin calls your name and you glance at him. Perhaps he can see the truth dawning on you by the way pity twists his features. He caresses your arm and leaves his hand there, his heat locking in the realization.

“What has happened to you?”

Another onrush of tears clouds your vision. Your spine bends. And you can’t.

You can’t not tell him. You can’t keep it in.

“I’m pregnant.”

Jimin’s eyes widen and it merely takes him a second to envelop you in his embrace. He coos your name, rubs your back, a whimper resonates in his chest against yours as he holds back his tears. The music falls into nothingness—and nothing is said for a time that appears to be as long as the season of autumn.

And then, somehow, you’re outside of the jazz club, sitting on Jimin’s Hussar jacket that he put down on the cold ground for you beside him. And the silence continues until it doesn’t.

“Does he know?” he asks, and you feel his irises gliding across the side of your face that you cannot turn.

It’s you who’s frozen this time.

Still and unbreathing.

With no smiling Taehyung at your hip.

“I wanted to tell him tonight,” you say, quietly, with your hands helplessly in your lap. “On the day of his vacation that he looked forward to.”

Jimin sighs, the sound full of that terrible pity. “How far along are you?”

It’s a question that brings life to your numb hands and you take them to your belly.

“Three months.”

A beat of silence.

You fondle your growing baby. Jimin seems to be watching you, considering his following words, but you fear to move your eyes. Lift them in expectation to see Taehyung only to meet the half-barren trees and the leaves on the ground that have absurdly regained their vivid colors.

Lift them to look at Jimin and meet the outcome of your autumn-long aloneness.

“He’ll be back in a month and I’ll talk to the Sergeant and offer my own vacation. I’ll give it up so you can see him and tell him.”

A sob lodges itself in your throat and you tilt to the side, leaning your head on Jimin’s shoulder. He, in response, leans his against yours.

“I don’t think your Sergeant will even hear you out,” you say, humorlessly, your personal pain still prickling the flesh of your heart.

But then Taehyung’s words wash over you.

Jimin is cute, but he’s strong and sane enough to protect you while I’m gone.

Jimin, Taehyung’s best friend, who’s been there for him through thick and thin, long before you came into the picture. Jimin, who stuck by your side when sightseeing, and took your pictures. Who devoured dinners with you and drank a whole bottle of liquor with you when Taehyung abstained.

Jimin, your best friend, too.

“Will you be here for me while he’s gone?” you ask, the sob in your throat enlarging, preventing you from speaking, but you push through. “So I won't get delusional again?”

Jimin takes your hand in his, squeezing it firmly in your lap, his thumb brushing over your little, half-swollen belly.

“It’s the least I can do. Let’s get you home.”

And he does.

He calls a cab. Walks with you up the stairs, lingers at the door, watches you take off your heels—watches the comprehension of this day being anything but fun take form on your face and posture, and he hugs you. Reassures you that he will be here the whole week until his vacation is over, and even long after that.

And you nod. Thank him. Turn your head away when he clicks the door shut behind him. Walk over to the window and stifle your tears when you see him head over to the liquor store in front of your apartment and leave with a bottle of spirits hanging from his fingertips.

And the tears rush out, despite your efforts, when your gaze cascades down onto the windowsill and onto the vase, where white wine-doused tulips stooped in yearning for Taehyung’s touch a few hours ago.

They aren’t stooping. They’re flaccid, dead and withered. Like the fun day you prepared.

Because Taehyung hasn’t bought any newly blooming tulips in a long while.

𓂃 ౨ৎ LOVE-KISSED BABIES: @jjk7k , @tkslovechild , @euphoricmyth , @cinmmongirl , @ririkookiemonster , @perfectiondazesworld , @https-mei , @bangtansonyeondanue , @jungkoock , @cinmmongirl , @hoseokkie-caeks , @kam9404 , @fr0ggieth1nk , @parkinglot-nights

BACK to masterlist | read part two

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disneyprincemuke · 1 year ago

Text

get this right * aa23

the thought of proposing to you is one that always comes easy to alex, but what he hadn’t expected is how difficult it is to execute it

pairings: alex albon x fem!reader

warnings: literally nOthing just a buNCH OF CUTE SHIT

notes: YALL i’ve been simping for this man for like weeks but in my head, he’s just such a sweetheart that i can’t imagine him in bad situations and nOW I FINALLY GOT IT

also… i’m really liking these multiple scenario fics… if you guys have any suggestions with stuff you want to see, please feel free to send them in here and this has been in my drafts since october oh my gooooood

(f1 masterlist)

“you’re telling me you already bought the ring?” max raises an eyebrow at alex, completely baffled at the story his friend has chosen to bestow upon them.

to the question, alex nods. his head snaps to george, who then asks, “and you’ve had it for almost a month?”

again, the thai nods. “and you have yet to propose?” lando says his piece, just as shocked as the rest of the table is.

alex can only nod, dropping his head in disappointment. in the middle of their circular table sat a red velvet box. inside it is the ring that alex had very carefully picked out with his sisters and mother.

yet the diamond ring sits comfortably in the box instead of your finger. and so does he amongst his friends while he faces the million dollar questions as to why he’s had the ring and has yet to propose to you.

“are you having second thoughts?” charles speaks up, tilting his head and biting his lips in curiosity.

if the answer were to be a ‘yes’, that would be worrisome. considering alex is one of the more romantic people they all know.

“no,” alex finally speak, putting a firm hand down on the table. he meets all of their eyes and feels the judgement. he sighs. “i’m not having second thoughts. i want to marry (y/n) just as much as i said before.”

george lifts his hands up and throws alex a questioning shrug. “so what’s holding you back then?”

“well…” alex chews on the inside of his cheek. he glances down at the box and scrunches up his nose, recounting the numerous times he has tried to get on one knee for you.

“i’m afraid it’s really not that simple.”

-> 20 days ago

alex glances at the door of your shared apartment then his eyes jump to the clock hanging just above your decorative plant. you should be home any minute.

the living room has been decorated beautifully with the help of his sisters. there is a singular heart helium balloon tied down to the bouquet of roses that sits on the kitchen island.

he’s even dressed up in his best suit to greet you a warm welcome home.

he sinks further into his couch, shaking his leg in anticipation. he runs his thumb over the velvet material of the box.

alex hadn’t been planning on proposing to you so soon, if he were to be honest. but he woke up that morning to empty half of the bed, with a note in your handwriting reminding him how much you love him and that breakfast is on the table.

his heart felt so full and he just knew today is the day.

so he got up and called his sisters up. they decorated the house together. with their help, he at least has the slightest idea of what to say to you.

it would be embarrassing if he was stuttering every 5 seconds thinking of what to say to you next.

it was 15 minutes later that he started to get worried about you. you usually get home from work around the same time whenever he’s in town — give or take about 5 minutes.

as if you’d read his mind, his phone lights up with a text notification from you.

my car died. can you pick me up please?

without another question, he is already typing a response to let you know that he will be on the way. he adds on the fact that he will call a tow truck for you after you send him your location.

when he gets there, he sighs in relief that you’re safe. he’d already known you were stuck in the parking lot of a mcdonald’s, but how can he really know when he’s rarely home?

you’re sitting on the trunk of your car, eating some ice cream with your phone propped up a box of nuggets. you’re fully occupied by a video you’ve put on to accompany yourself during the wait.

“my love, why didn’t you sit in the car where the seat’s more comfortable?” alex asks as he opens the car door.

you turn your head and open your mouth with an answer, but immediately close it when he comes into view. your eyes scan him up and down, slowly gulping the remaining ice cream in your mouth.

you point at him with the spoon of your mcflurry. “why are you dressed all fancy? you were gonna go out, love?”

alex freezes. he hadn’t even thought of changing out of his outfit before coming to get you. now he has to scrape his brain for an excuse to throw you off, without sabotaging the relationship whole.

it’s like a lightbulb goes off in his head. you’ll totally buy the excuse. “i was giving my clothes a test run,” he giggles sheepishly, but hesitantly from the daggers you were shooting at him. “wanted to see what fit and what didn’t.”

he can almost envision the gears turning in your head as you process his lie. he sighs again when you turn away to lock your phone.

he’s a very bad liar. for two people who have been together for as long as you’ve been, it’s very easy to spot all his telltales.

he tries his best not to lie to you. today is when he’s exerting every single ounce of his ability to do so.

“my car battery died. i saw a screw lose when i’d checked,” you explain, gently climbing off the back of your car. you waddle over to him, lips puckered up as he bends down to meet your lips. “i’m sorry to trouble you, love. i’m sure you were enjoying your fashion show.”

he chuckles, pulling you in for a quick hug. “anything for you, my love.” he walks over to where you are and opens the mcdonald’s paper bag. “oh, you bought us dinner?”

“you dinner,” you correct him. you lean slightly into him with a loud and frustrated huff with your arms hanging around him loosely. “i’ve had such a long day at work today. it could really be deemed as the worst day; i just want to go home and relax.”

alex scrambles in his mind, thinking of several ways he can deviate you from the house a little longer. he makes a mental note to text his sister to do a quick cleanup before you make your way home.

he simply refuses to propose to you when you’re in a bad mood. he doesn’t think your answer would change depending on how you currently feel, but it just doesn’t feel right.

alex hums, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you. “what do you say we go to our spot up in the hills and chill for a little bit?”

he watches you in anticipation. if you didn’t agree, he really wouldn’t know what to do at all. there are only so many excuses he can make. and there's only so much time before his sisters can get to the apartment and get cleaning.

“hm, okay." you lean into him and squeeze him in your hug. “anywhere with you is relaxing.”

-> 18 days ago

so alex shall try again in the planned department. he is once again in your shared apartment. there is a singular rose this time with dinner on the table. this time, decorated by himself.

he’s practised in the mirror. what he should say. everything he had planned out a few days ago is forgotten as the nerves are slightly different this time.

he doesn't get nervous often, but whenever it comes to you, it's inevitable that it bothers him. when it first happened, it was a confusing feeling that he spent days pondering what exactly it is.

when george smacked his head and told him, he looked down shyly at the ground and nodded.

he got the same feeling when he asked you to be his girlfriend and met your parents.

his chosen seat is a bar stool this time, and he plays some games on his phone to remain calm and collected. though still a little bit distracted.

his attention is split between the phone in his hands and the door. occasionally, the footsteps in the hallway make his heart stop as he looks up and waits for a lock to click. it's never the door he wants to open.

his game is briefly interrupted, his mother's picture flashing on the screen while his phone buzzes. it's not unusual that she's calling, but it is a bit of a shock since she knows he's planning to propose tonight.

he picks up the call, an explanation as to why he hasn't texted at the tip of his tongue.

“i’m sorry, sweetie,” his mother’s panicked voice comes through the phone. “can you please come over? it’s an emergency.”

that’s all he needed to hear before he was darting all over the apartment. he’s popped the balloon, as there was clearly no need for it tonight, the rose is hiding behind a bunch of folded shirts in his drawer and the velvet red box goes back into the deepest pit of his underwear drawer.

this time, he remembers to change out of his clothes. it’s slightly less put together than before, but it was still an effort.

“alex, love?” the sound of the door opening makes him perk up. your voice bounces through the apartment, followed by the pitter-patter of the cats’ nails against the hardwood floor. “are you home?”

he stumbles out of your bedroom, pulling up his sweatpants. “i need to go over to mum’s.”

you stop dead in your tracks, the door still held open and the key in your hands. clearly, you notice his panic in the way he’s barely even greeted you. you raise your eyebrows and step aside, leaving a gap for him to go through the door.

“i can drive you if you want,” you offer him, watching him jog towards the car keys.

he’s shaking, and it’s noticeable from the way he’s struggling to find his wallet. his wallet that is very clearly sitting above the shoerack in the entryway.

you grab it swiftly and say his name. it makes him stop briefly, turning to you as he held up the couch’s cushion, still in search of his wallet.

you lift up the leather item and then show him your car keys. you nudge your head towards the hallway. “come on, i’ll drive.”

-> 10 days ago

third time's the charm, right? right?

alex sits in his chair, hands fixing his collar, then his hair, picking at the menu, and then the lace table cover.

"hey, love," you say from behind him, bending down to press a kiss to his forehead. "i'm sorry i'm late. there was traffic in the parking lot at the office."

"don't worry about it. i just arrived not too long ago." alex gets up to his feet, pulling you in for a tight hug. he presses a chaste kiss to your lips before running over to pull your seat back for you.

you thank him with the squeeze of his arm while you take your seat. you grab the menu and get comfortable in your seat. "have you looked at the menu yet?"

"not yet, i was waiting for you."

he feels like a stalker watching you from across the table. his hand is in his jacket's pocket, rubbing circles over the velvety material once more. when exactly is the right time to ask you?

"how was work?" alex starts, taking the menu into his hands, looking at you shyly as he awaits your response.

"it's alright. nothing out of the ordinary from me," you mutter with a shrug, flashing him a small grin before returning your attention to the menu. "the pasta looks good, don't you think?"

"i saw their salmon dish online - that looked good," alex answers. but he's been on the same page of the menu for a hot minute, his eyes have read the same item so many times that he has its description memorised.

all he can think of is how to transition to popping the question.

"it does look delicious... do you want to share a dessert after too?" you inquire, looking up at him with a huge smile. "i really want the lava cake."

"with vanilla ice cream?"

"of course!"

and you make small talk with him. which almost makes him forget the ring that's in the pocket of his jacket. you talk and he thinks and thinks and tries to find the perfect time to pop the question to you.

until your smile drops and your head angles to the side slightly. your lips part as your eyes move from his, over to the door in pure shock.

"love, what's wrong?" alex follows your moving gaze.

and he also freezes in his seat. it's his ex-girlfriend. the same exact person that you'd mentioned you thought you could never live up to.

all because his mother had slipped up and asked about her over casual conversation over dinner, and because you had noticed that his sisters still kept in constant contact with her.

he watches you, from the corner of his eyes, sink into your seat and drop your head. you press your lips together and give him a small smile. "maybe let's cancel dessert? i'm not very hungry."

-> now

"do you get why it's a little complicated now?" alex groans, throwing his head back. "it's not like i haven't tried."

charles presses his lips together, nodding slightly as he tries to assess the situation for himself. he hasn't proposed to anybody in his life, so what advice does he have to give his friend? "maybe you're overthinking it?"

"yeah," george nods. "maybe you just have to... ask her. just ask her."

"you're aware i'm proposing to her. i'm not just asking some random girl to be my prom date to the dance," alex lays out his situation slowly, scanning his friends' faces carefully.

they're not serious about just asking you without a whole get-up, are they? he never would have asked them if he'd known how minuscule this issue was to them. it's never as simple as just asking you to marry him.

it's an important question.

"actually, i think twiddle dee and twiddle dum have got a point," max smiles, pointing at their two other friends now rolling their eyes. "if it all keeps blowing up in your face when you plan your proposal, maybe you just need to do it when you... get the feeling. you know?"

"no."

"just do it when you're so overwhelmed at the thought of spending the rest of your life with her," george shrugs, taking a sip from his drink. "would help the nerves, and it makes it more genuine."

alex shakes his head. "i don't know. that doesn't make the moment very special, now, does it?"

"just try it, and then let me know."

-> 5 days later

"love!" your excited voice fills the house, prompting alex to lift his head from the armrest of the couch.

he'd been home all day, claiming a rest day from the gym and other press commitments before he had to do it all over again this weekend for another race.

"yes, love?" alex smiles, opening his arms, watching you walk out of the kitchen and excitedly walk over to him. "what's got you so preppy?"

"love, i was outside coming home from work, and i saw the cutest little snail right outside the apartment building," you giggle, dropping your bag by the foot of the couch. you drop yourself into his arms, adjusting yourself to fit the small space that the couch provides you. "i took a picture, look!"

"you took a picture of a snail?"

"yes!" you nod. "its shell looked so beautiful. and i even moved it to the side so that nobody could step on it unknowingly. just so sad when that happens to them."

and then he knows. it hits him, then and there, while you were rambling on about how beautiful this snail's shell is, that this is the moment. this is the moment that max was talking about.

he props his head up with his hand, nodding as you zoom into the picture you'd taken.

"we should get married," alex blurts, unable to hold himself back. the ring is not even with him - it's somewhere in the back of his closet. but it doesn't even seem like a necessary accessory for him at the moment.

"what?" you tilt your head, slowly dropping your hand into your lap. you sit up and look down at him. "alex, what did you say?"

"i have the ring and everything. hold on." alex scrambles to get off his seat, but you shake your head and put a hand over his chest. you pull him back into the couch, maintaining his position next to you with a puzzled stare.

"did you just say what i thought you just said?"

"yes. and i've been trying to propose to you all month," alex sighs, "something always goes wrong: your car broke down, my mum called, then we saw my ex in the restaurant. i tried setting it up, and of course, i ask you when i don't have the ring with me."

he's flailing his arms in the air as he explains his troubles to you, ultimately throwing his hands towards the direction of your bedroom before he slumps his shoulders and looks at you. "i wanted it to be a picture-perfect moment. i wanted it to be everything you dreamt about growing up. remember?"

"so i heard you right? you're asking me to marry you?" you can barely hide the smile growing on your face, eyes tearing up as you grab his hands. "i don't care about the ring. you're asking me to marry you?"

"do you still want to? i couldn't even propose to you right."

"of course, i want to marry you," you giggle, throwing your arms around him. you pepper his cheek with kisses, alex hesitantly wrapping his arms around your waist as he leans back onto the couch. "i love you, alex. you just had to ask me the question. i don't care how, where or when you'd say it."

"obviously, i didn't know that until now," alex laughs. he buries his face into your hair, making a mental note to thank max next weekend for the helpful tip.

#alex albon x reader #alex albon x you #alex albon #formula one #f1 #f1 x reader #aa23 #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke f1 #f1 fanfic

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onyourowndaisymae · 8 months ago

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𝒇𝒊𝒄𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒈𝒂𝒛𝒂 - 𝒐𝒃𝒆𝒚 𝒎𝒆 𝒆𝒅𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏

☆☆ 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 & 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬 ☆☆

hi again :) i'm joining other lovely fanfic writers with @ficsforgaza to help raise money for the folks in need in palestine. i'm proud to be banding together with the community on tumblr to help palestinians during this horrible time.

to participate, make a donation to a vetted fundraiser found on @ficsforgaza's page (aka, don't send me any money lol) and send me a screenshot (with your personal information removed) along with what you'd like to request to my ask box. please do not "double dip" aka use the same donation for several writers-- this is a fundraiser, after all! here is what a request looks like:

hello! can i sponsor your [INSERT FIC] fic? i donated $5 to gaza, here is the screenshot! thank you! [insert screenshot]

my pricing will be as follows:

★ sponsor-a-WIP: $1/100 words ★ drabbles: $2-3/100 words (elaborated below) ★ no money to contribute, but you want to support the cause? that's okay. sign a vetted petition from the @ficsforgaza page and send proof, and i'll add a sentence to a WIP of your choosing.

if you have any questions, feel free to take a look here on @ficsforgaza's page or reach out to me. be patient, i will work on these fics when i can. thank you so much for helping me raise money for a good cause ;)

☆☆ ��𝐈𝐏𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐫 ☆☆

★ pink pony club

on saturday nights, the lights at the fall dim as a performer takes stage. beauty, grace, taking the stage as music begins to trickle from the speakers for their performance. you're born naked, the rest is drag. how do the characters of obey me interact with this art form? are they a performer? an amateur? do they yearn for the spotlight or admire their own outfit from the shadows?

drag!au. bulleted fic/headcanons. estimated length = unknown. characters completed: none. wc: 0. current sponsors: one! sponsored word count: 0/500.

★ human!au x farming!au

a breeze travels through a small valley town. the spring is warm-- a perfect time for new beginnings. the moving truck pulls away from the small farm where you've been dropped off. this is your land now. to see it thrive, you must love and care for each inch. but first, you should probably introduce yourself to the local townspeople.

human!au and farming!au. heavily inspired by both harvest moon/stardew valley games and my mutual @misc-obeyme and their human!au. small paragraphs for each character. estimated length = unknown. characters completed: none. wc: 0. current sponsors: one! sponsored word count: 0/500.

★ obey me characters with earrings

accessories are a wonderful addition to any outfit. if the characters of obey me had their ears pierced, what sorts of earrings would they wear?

bulleted headcanons/fic. themes of x reader. estimated length = unknown. characters completed: none. wc: 0. current sponsors: none.

★ obey me demon brothers presenting you with a friendship bracelet in return

you presented the avatars of sin with a custom friendship bracelet to commemorate your growing bond. now, they're here to return the favor.

demon brothers x reader (platonic OR romantic, up to reader interpretation). revival of a long-dead series. bulleted fic. estimated length = unknown. characters completed: none. wc: 0. current sponsors: none.

★ the fall's private rooms (nsfw warning)

being a human in the devildom has left you with a certain... interest in demonkind and other fantastical creatures. but you're far too embarrassed to explore this fascination with anyone you know. the solution? an anonymous station set up in one of the fall's private rooms allowing you to fuck someone without knowing who they are, no strings attached. this set-up grows a bit more complicated, though, when word travels through the grapevine about the dirty things you're doing. the door closes to the room you're tucked away in, indicating someone is here to indulge you... but is that a familiar voice you hear on the other side of the wall?

nsfw. minors dni. obey me characters x reader smut. gloryhole dynamic. estimated length = unknown. characters completed: none. wc: 0. current sponsors: one! sponsored word count: 0/5000.

★ oc spotlight: introductions

the rules of the exchange program are simple: the celestial realm and the human realm both send three of their residents to the the devildom to experience hell's culture for an entire year. among the usual residents of purgatory hall, two new faces are seen wandering about. one, a straight-laced, fledgling sorcerer trying her best to explore the depths of the devildom's history and gain a grasp on her budding powers. the other, an angel born hard-of-hearing and further deafened by the celestial war with a penchant for beautiful artistic creations.

canon-divergent!au. x reader. introduction of two original characters. character profiles. estimated length = unknown. characters completed: none. wc: 0. current sponsors: none.

★ oc spotlight: vampire!au

vampirism is a strange affliction. it creates a recluse of the most social creature, driven from the sunlight and modern society into the shadows by bloodlust and misery. you are a human being who has recently become the source of blood for each of these two ancient vampires. how does your relationship with the evolve? do they grow to see you as more than a pet, or are you slaughtered for your insolence long before they remember your name?

vampire!au. ocs x reader (separate). full-length standalone fics. estimated length = unknown. characters completed: none. wc: 0. current sponsors: none.

☆☆ 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 ☆☆

i'll be accepting drabble requests for the seven demon brothers and the dateables. drabbles are estimated to be ~500 words. they can be sfw/nsfw, tropes, fluff, etc. please specify what you'd like to see in this drabble, whether you only have a character in mind or a very specific scenario! (note: anon MUST be off for you to request nsfw, and you must be 18+).

since requests require a bit more work, i'll be pricing them at $2 per 100 words for sfw drabbles and $3 per 100 words for nsfw drabbles.

do you want to support gaza and request fics for twisted wonderland? check out my other blog here

#fics for gaza #sponsor a wip #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #obey me nightbringer #obey me x reader #obey me imagines #obey me headcanons #obey me hcs #obey me smut

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aloesarchives · 7 days ago

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Domestic Headcanons w/ Mama!Reader and the Fushiguros #2.5: Teen!Mayumi (OC)

TW/Warnings: Domesticity, AFAB/Female Reader, Family life, unhinged crack, JJK OC(but not main x Reader), tons of swearing, Mayumi is truly a Gen Z kid

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x Fem!Reader

Pronouns/Usage: She/Her, Mama/Mom

So, it's been awhile since I've actually posted anything. College, projects, life in general fuck my ass up frfr. On top of that, I got really bad writer's block and being burnt out. I've been spending time with family and friends and it's been giving me motivation to write again. So I'm trying to finish my long wips before my winter break ends!

I also made reference pics of Mayumi for anyone who's curious on what she would look like. These pics of Mayumi were based on my appearance since she's an self-insert combination of me and Toji lol. I had to work with what I got to visualize her. If you has questions or wanna ask more about her, feel free to drop an ask in my inbox!

(Credits to the creators of the photo generators from Piccrew and Storior. I didn't create the generators but used them to create these pics)

Preteen!Mayumi:

Teen/Highschool!Mayumi:

Mayumi wasn’t a menace or a problematic child. Nothing was too extreme that required strict parenting. As she grows up, she’s not as rebellious as you imagined. She only talks back to Toji, never you. But even then, she’s setting her boundaries up and setting herself up.

She’s in her own little world, doing her own thing. A go-getter if you will.

Only taking after the green eyes of your hubby, she is a mini version of you through and through. Performing well and evolving into an academic weapon of mass destruction. School has never been an issue for her or will be in the future. She is a competitive person at heart but stays humble as much as she can. She most definitely does Kendo, Kyūdō, and Karuta. You and Toji always go to her competitions. She’s always on the podium in first place. She’s only good because Toji’s the only one who has the physical prowess to match. And Toji doesn’t go easy on her during their training. But your daughter is grateful that her Papa supports her interests and wants her to succeed, which proves your point that you made the right choice in choosing a husband and father for your children.

But Mayumi in her teen years, she turns a complete 180 and becomes a mini Toji. A menace.

She isn’t a bully nor picks on others. It’s the other way around, she is fully beefing with egotistical kids that think they’re all that and can do anything. Her reasoning is quite interesting because she’s trying to show them that the stuff they pulled off wouldn’t slide in the real world. She’s helping them out because the stuff they pulled can be digging their own graves if they mess with the wrong people. The bullies jump her off-school grounds and after school hours, too bad it leads them to either having a bruised complex, pride, or straight up CTE.

She never fought in school, no never. That's after-school activities for her. Even if that were to happen and you and Toji had to be called down, the only thing that matters to Toji is whether or not Mayumi won. But the answer is always the same, which is yes. That’s you as well but you had to be the reasonable parent in the situation. If any of the parents of the bullies trifle with you, you can pull your connection cards on them and it shuts them up good.

“Oh, you think your threats scare me? Bold of you to assume I could feel shaken by someone like you. It’s not like your company violated several labor and wage laws, or your money embezzlement affairs? Hm?”

Once she got to high school at Jujutsu Tech, no one wanted to shit on her because they all know they’ll get boxed up by her after hearing the things she’s done to people that tried her.

She never explained how she controls her impulses. She credits her strong will power but you remember your husband is Toji. And with that, you know her sudden urges to do something reckless/impulsive are watched under the supervision of her father. You know this because one day you saw her long jump over the koi pond in the backyard of your home. She cleared it with perfect form and footing. You’re dead when Toji starts teaching her optimal forms and techniques so she could have a higher vertical and be nimble in the air like he is.

She isn’t a trouble-maker. She’s not as reckless or impulsive like others around her age. You ask her why she doesn’t participate in day adventures or nightly escapades. She said most of her friends have curfews and can’t be out late. All of them have different routines so it’s hard to find time to hangout on the weekends. Mayumi also said she doesn’t know what’s lurking at night and wants nothing to do with it. And She knows Toji will know whether she snuck out at night. But she doesn’t want to cause you and Toji any trouble so she either doesn’t get into trouble at all or does but it’s a situation she knows she can easily handle herself.

She is a certified Zen’in hater and the most vocal about it too. She really doesn’t acknowledge that half of herself and purposely avoids talking about them in a familial matter.

She is definitely stealing Toji’s old clothes and adding them to her wardrobe. The jackets he doesn’t wear anymore? She stole them and is a part of her wardrobe. She says she is repurposing them when she really wants them.

Most of her teen years were filled with K-pop, her aesthetic is Y2K for sure. The staples of her closet are cargo pants, those long retro denim skirts, oversized t-shirts and jackets.

Because Shui sometimes visits Korea for business, Mayumi is always asking him for a TWICE, New Jeans, or BTS vinyls. She gets him all three in her room on display and plays them when she wants to chill out in her room.

Mayumi likes to spend time with Maki, Mai, and Nobara. Trains with Maki alongside Toji. No wonder Mayumi is so good at fighting. She was literally taught by PEAK.

The sibling banter, oh my god. “Mom, get this Emo kid off his ass and tell him I need him to come with me to watch a movie!” “Why me? Can’t you ask Tsumiki or your friends?” “Ugh, because my friends are busy and Tsumiki-Nii won't come home until after her club. Plus, you’re not doing anything right now and today’s our weekly sibling bonding time!” Megumi groans and grumbles before getting up off the couch and grabbing his wallet. Or her saying, “Gumi-Nii, this is why you got no maidens” when Megumi told her to leave him alone when she went into his room to bother him.

Megumi has to deal with her as he is the main victim of her antics. Getting teased and roasted endlessly. He knows everyone's footsteps and knows who coming. That's only because he needed to recognize when Mayumi is coming and needs to mentally prepare himself when interacting with her. This is what happens when Mayumi got your looks but Toji's personality.

Begs Megumi to bring out his shikigamis so she can take pictures of/with them. Putting silly accessories on them like bows and hair clips. She puts hats on his divine dogs or take pictures of them at funny angles.

Don’t get me started on her inheriting Toji’s shit talking and banter. Her snide remarks and roasts are creative and out of worldly that Toji takes mental notes. Prime example, upon learning Toji and Satoru’s “shared past”, her insult library grew. “Dad, I don’t wanna hear anything from you! I’m talking to the same man who had beef with a bunch of high schoolers because his pockets were itching!” Turns to you “Can’t believe you looked at this and thought, ‘Oh, I’m definitely gonna make him my husband and the father of my future kids.’” You raised an eyebrow at her when you looked up from your laptop, “Mayumi, Dearest, you can’t be saying that. If I never gave that man a chance, you, Megumi, and Tsumiki wouldn’t exist. Besides, if it wasn’t for me, your Papa would be seeing a Michael Jackson concert or be at a Tupac meet and greet right now.” On second thought, maybe she got the shit talking from you too.

Continuing on the previous thought, Mayumi will say the most out of pocket, unhinged, crazy type of insults and curses you will ever hear. A prime example of this was during the Tokyo-Kyoto exchange event in Mayumi’s first year Jujutsu Tech. It was a 1v1 tournament between the Kyoto and Tokyo students. Mayumi’s opponent happened to be a third year student from the Zen’in clan. As you were watching from the sidelines with Toji, you couldn't help but notice Mayumi’s expression. She was locked in and basically mean-mugging them. Any and all insults were brushed off and unfazed. As she expected, your daughter knew her distant relative would pick her a part for being a celestial restricted user and not having any curse energy. As the fight went on, Mayumi was getting annoyed. Not because her opponent was hard, oh no not that. She was annoyed by the fact her opponent was all bark and no bite. Like her opponent was legit trying but it wasn’t enough for her. She could’ve easily ended the match, Toji and you knew that from the start, but she wanted to hold out in case her fight would get interesting. Alas, it didn’t and Mayumi was disappointed as hell. As she would put it, she’s related to frauds. Her opponent was yapping away with the classic “You got lucky” and “this isn’t my full power” shit. Now she’s just getting mad that her opponent was absolute garbage. Her opponent said something that you couldn’t quite make out, but Toji did as he let out a huff. You guessed it set off Mayumi because she stared them with the iconic Toji glare, clenched fists and teeth, and said “Choke on my dad’s dick and get pegged by my mom, you damn fraud!” Then proceeds to give that Zen’in the most devious combo imaginable, it connected so well it would be a perfect score in any fighting game. The fight was over with the obvious winner being Mayumi. But you and Toji, stunned for a solid five seconds before bursting out in laughter. For as vulgar and out of pocket your daughter was for saying that, it was creative. Toji even had tears in his eyes because he was dying of laughter but also how proud he was of Mayumi. That combo was crispy and only his daughter could do something like that.

She is so much like Toji that when she was fighting a Zen’in member(s) (99% Naoya), she locked in and did a pose. She had this look in her eyes and her grin was done in a way that’s almost primal. Then everything clicks and she’s giving them flashbacks because she’s giving TOJI AURA. She’s reminding them of Toji and piecing them up like her Pops. As Mayumi likes to put it, she’s running it back to her papa. The get back on the Zen’in clan for Toji. And she fucking delivers, ate that shit up and left no crumbs behind. She’s infamously known to be compared to Toji in the Jujutsu world but she wears that shit with pride and honor. “Disrespect my papa, then I’ll give you guys that generational fade that even your descendants will feel the secondhand embarrassment that you’re their ancestors. Straight up Frauds.”

Forces Toji to take selfies with her. Just a teenage daughter dragging her dad around. She’s just a girl, your dearest daughter, just dragging your 6’1 boulder of a husband around. Doing those drink dates and posting them.

Okay, in my Modern/Toji Lives Au, since Shui doesn’t dip out and go under the radar he has a presence in the kids' lives. Every Time he’s over, he and Toji are yapping away at each other. Every time Mayumi is about to go out, she stops by and greets Shui and Toji before leaving. Usually she would be out the door when she has to go somewhere but there’s always a five minute gap. Turns out, she waits for Shui to give her cash and leaves with at least 29,000 Yen(close to $200 US). Watching this unfold is sometimes jarring because your husband and his friend at one point in time wretched havoc in the Jujutsu/underground world. Now, they’re just two older guys, chilling on the engawa of your home, and having a drink.

Mayumi is running Satoru’s pockets. Gifts, money, anything you name it, he’s getting her something. Satoru told you that as the unofficial oldest child and brother, it’s his job to get gifts and provide some financial incentive to his younger siblings. Since this is voluntary for Satoru, Mayumi is taking full advantage of it. When Mayumi got to that age, Satoru even offered to pay for schooling if she wanted to go to college/university or study abroad. Toji felt a bit insulted with how Satoru was casually flexing his wealth right in front of him. But Toji being the guy with an eye for better deals, he’ll silently let Satoru spurge on Mayumi if it meant he didn’t have to spend a single dime on her.

Ends up having a popular social media presence because she went viral from a post that had you and Toji in it. It was caption with something like "I want what they have/ Why my standards in love are so high" and it's you and Toji doing domestic stuff with Toji having this loving look on his face and you giving him a soft tender expression.

She doesn’t take her account seriously and just posts fun stuff or things for shits and giggles. Probably makes Toji do trends with her or takes videos of him doing mundane things around the house that got netizens foaming at the mouth. Then netizens start foaming at the mouth and become rebid when they find out about you. Doing a mom reveal and people were asking in the comments your skincare/makeup routine, making barking noises, etc. Then she does a family reveal where she includes Megumi and Tsumiki and people say the most unhinged things.

“You guys need a table? I can be a table for you guys”

“If yall need a chair, I’m the best chair to sit on. I can hold everyone.”

“Bro, please, save some for the rest of us! Like, let me have a fighting chance! Please!”

It gets worse when she posts a picture or video of her hanging out with Satoru, Suguru, or Nanami.

When Mayumi reveals both you and Toji’s ages, she did a video of your secrets while you say something sweet and practical like family and dropping your skincare routine then there’s Toji’s portion of the video. Toji just says: “My wife” and that’s it, does not elaborate on it. When Mayumi presses on, Toji responds “Your mom, Mayumi. I mean, do I need to say anything else because I legit got nothing else, Sweetheart.”

She does those livestreams to answer questions, you sometimes watch them when you’re away from home. They make you feel better and you do get a laugh out of them.

Mayumi doing a livestream: “How old is my dad–? Too old for you all! And he’s married! shows a picture of you in the livestream Married! He’s taken! So stay away from my father! Stay away from my father, guys!”

Did a livestream with you and Toji and the amount of time Mayumi had to chastise Toji because the stuff he says will get her banned is hilarious and you are just watching the carnegie unfold right before you.

She did one livestream with her friends doing the hear me out challenge. And one of them pulled out Toji’s picture and put it on the brownie cake. Mayumi: “gasps! That’s my dad! Why the hell did you guys put my dad in!?” It gets worse when her other friend puts a picture of you in there too. Everyone was laughing while Mayumi was straight up flustered and stressed. Poor girl, she doesn’t need to be reminded that everyone wants to bang her parents.

Mayumi begged you to do that trend where daughters put their mothers in their style/clothes. That post was a hit but Toji wasn’t home for that. So when she made a post of Toji’s reaction to the post where you’re wearing Mayumi’s Y2K clothing, it was a hit too. That’s because as Mayumi sends him the post and he watches the post on his phone, Toji watches the video before looking up at Mayumi, with her phone pointed at him, and saying, “You want a younger sibling, Mayumi?” And she lets out a scream that was perfectly cut at the end of the video.

Toji definitely spends the most time with her, they are very close to each other. They vibe on another level that you know you can’t even get. You’re aware she confides about anything and everything to you but always goes to Toji first since he’s more empathetic of her situations and what she goes through.

She’s the extrovert of the family (if you weren’t already one) but spending time and being near her is fun and entertaining. Mayumi is the apple to everyone’s eye but knows when to be strong and stand ten toes when she needs to be. She’s still a kind, considerate, and compassionate person. She’s just more outspoken now that she’s a teenager and she’ll stand on that. She’s a wonderful mix of you and Toji and is a certified Gen Z kid who loves her parents and siblings.

Taglist:

@luqueam @ploylulla @tqd4455 @wolywolymoley @captainbabybear @ravenswife @tqd4455 @k-kkiana

Taglist(w/o links):

@szillx @SleppyAnn @g0th1xac1d @kneelarhmstrung

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chimneyz · 2 months ago

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Tonight was actually a good night, the first good night since the incident, the first time Buck smiled and actually laughed... since the incident. Who knows Buck might actually get a goodnight's sleep for the first time...

Since the incident.

The sweet smell of cookies and other assorted baked goods filled Buck's loft, he's spent most of his free time now baking, to keep his mind off of things. To stop it from spiraling down a dark path.

"Thank you again Buck," Maddie beamed at him "Jee has been talking about baking with Uncle Buck for some time now. Haven't you Jee?"

Jee smiles brightly at him with a box of freshly made cookies in hand giggling. Her infectious joy melts Buck's heart.

"Yeah of course!" Buck responds, he bends down to his niece's level booping her nose. "Miss Jee is welcome any time."

As she scrunches up her nose with a giggle Buck stands back up to find both his sister and Chimney's face painted with concern. Maddie opens her mouth then decides against it glancing over at her husband. She presser lips thinly. Maddie decides to go foward with what ever words are circling in her head.

"Are you willing to talk about what happened?"

Buck tilts his head, eyebrows furrowing.

"What is there to talk about, we broke up. That's the end of it, nothing more."

Maddie's eyebrows rise up to her hairline, Chimney's scrunch up, both looking back and forth from eachother to Buck trying to formulat the right words. Annoyance spiked through Buck's body.

"You never really explained what happened between you two, I thought everything was going so well." Maddie finally said.

Chimney reaches down to pick up Jee with a grunt resting her on his hip. "Yeah, I mean you're a mess - no offense - but when was the last time you actually slept? And on top of that you won't even say his name."

Chim's right he did look like a mess didn't he. His stubble was becoming more than just a stubble. Dark pockets have formed under his sore eyes, his cheeks still warm and puffy from bitter tears. Hell, his still wearing that hoodie, the hoodie that used to be his. Not sure if Buck can even still call it his anymore, the lingering sent of him has been diminishing more and more.

Buck huffed out a mirthless laugh slightly raising his hands, darting his eyes away from his family. "Like I said t-there is not much to say, we - we just broke things off. I-I ran my mouth and like always I Bucked it up." His hands drop to his sides in defeat.

Buck struggles to look at them, more specifically his sister, but when his eyes meet hers he sees a sympathetic sorrow sparkling in them. "I am sure that is not true Buck."

Maddie isn't entirely wrong though is she? Sure Buck has been running what he said that night in his head over and over, there are definitely things he worded incorrectly or probably never should of left his mouth, but it was To- no, it was him who walked away from Buck. It was him who was afraid of getting his heart broken but shattering Buck's with his swift goodbye. Buck can feel the tears forming around his eyes again.

"This wasn't all on To- on him, some of it was on me too..." He looks at them again plastering a smile on his face the best he can without breaking down infront of them. "Thank you for bringing Jee, I think I needed this more than you guys."

Maddie places her hand gently on Buck's shoulder, a small wavering smile forming. "Of course Buck. If you- When ever you are ready to talk I am right here for you." As the Han family turn to leave, Buck steps foward before he can even think.

"H-hey Maddie can I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

Buck fidgets with his fingers picking at his skin, "Actually this is a question for the both of you."

Maddie and Chim turn to eachother with a puzzled look, they look to Buck waiting for his question.

"What exactly happened between you two? With Boston and t-the break up, what happened that made you two go back to eachother time, after time, after time again?"

Both smiled fondly at him, "Well Jee played a big part in that department." Chimney said.

"Y-Yes she did," Maddie pointed at Chimney and turned back at Buck, "But it was more than that. We didn't just stumble upon what we have, we had to work for it, to build it, to make it."

Those familiar words rang in Buck's ears over and over.

"We had to fight for each other, for love" Chimney added.

A warm feeling bubbled in Buck's chest, he wasn't sure if he would call it hope, but it was something that made him feel good, something he hasn't felt in days. Buck smiled and nodded while looking at the floor, the words still playing through his head.

"Ok, thank you."

Jee fussed in Chimney's arms her face growing grumpy.

"Uh-oh looks like it's someone's bedtime," Maddie giggled.

"Bedtime, what bedtime?" Chimney muttered, he opened the door leaving with Jee in hand. Lingering behind, Maddie steps closer to her brother hugging him tight.

"Everything will be ok."

"Yeah, thanks Maddie."

She leaves closing the door behind her. Buck stands alone in his loft taking out his phone, his fingers hovering over the keyboard on the text chain with him - no, Tommy. The words he wants to say circling around and around in that brain of his. He may not reach out tonight, he may not reach out tomorrow or even the next few days, but soon...

Soon, Buck tells himself.

#is it fic time #911 #911 abc #bucktommy #madney #911 fic #ficlet #911 ficlet #911 speculation #i actually am not sure to call is speculation more hope or wishful thinking #evan buckley #maddie han #chimney han #fic #mine #911 8x07 #eds writes fics

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works-of-fanfiction · 1 year ago

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The Love of Another - Part Two || Cillian Murphy x actress!Reader

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Summary: After meeting on the set of Peaky Blinders, Cillian and Y/N struggle to keep their relationship professional.

Warnings: Swearing, cheating, angst. Some (pretty cringe) fluff at the end.

Word Count: 5.7k

a/n: thank you so much for the lovely feedback on the first part of this! I haven’t written anything multi-part in literal years, but this was fun. some chunky sections of dialogue here, hopefully easy to follow! enjoy x

(Paul is Paul Anderson and Sophie is Sophie Rundle (if that wasn’t obvious already). Y/N’s character in the show is not canon/replacing any of the actresses, just feel free to use your imagination and slot her in somewhere! it is yourself after all.)

“Would you rather have Tommy teach you to ride a horse, or Arthur teach you to box?” The interviewer asked, smiling at the actress in front of her. Y/N chewed the inside of her cheek, tapping her knee as she thought about her answer. “That’s a hard one, because both could end up with me on the floor!” She joked, looking past the camera at the crew who were essentially getting paid to laugh at anything she said. “I have to go with Tommy on this one. It’s probably the least dangerous! Plus, who doesn’t love watching Cillian ride those horses?” The two women laughed together before swiftly moving onto the more serious questions about Y/N’s debut in the series. “I’d have gone with Arthur.” Y/N’s husband sneered, lowering the volume on the TV. Behind him she was sat at the table, re-reading the new scripts she’d been sent and familiarising herself with the lines.

“They pay me to say stuff like that, you know.” She declared casually, not bothering to look up from the page. He turned around and watched as she scribbled down some notes, mouthing words to herself quietly.

“They pay you to brown-nose Cillian?” He scoffed, leaning on the back cushion. Dropping her pencil with a sigh, she finally looked up with raised brows.

“Yes. Just like I got paid to brown-nose every other man I’ve worked with.” She quipped sarcastically, rolling her eyes, and twirling the pencil between her fingers. She waited for him to respond, but the snarky comeback never came. A smart choice on his part.

Despite her only having met Cillian once, her husband still had this bizarre idea that they’d spent every waking moment together during filming. Y/N had become too exhausted to argue about it. Her career and her future in Peaky Blinders was a lot more important than her husband’s petty jealousy, and she certainly wasn’t going to throw away the role of a lifetime because of him.

“Y/N… Your line.” The prompter called, waving the script in the air and tapping the page with her pen.

“Oh, sorry. Can we go from the top?” Y/N asked nervously, looking around at the crew that were becoming increasingly impatient. What was supposed to be a quick and simple scene was turning into an hour of do-overs with Y/N forgetting small details on every take. “I’m really sorry everyone.” She addressed the room, some mumbling back, others just rolling their eyes and whispering among themselves.

Stepping forward off his mark, Cillian turned to the director. “I think we can pick this up next week. Don’t you?” He asked quietly, eyes flitting to Y/N and back again. “Long day…”

“Alright. We’ll set up for this scene first thing Monday morning, but I want it finished and perfect by lunchtime.” He spun in his chair, ordering everyone to go home and rest up on their rare weekend off.

Sighing, Y/N tugged at her hair, freeing it from the clips holding it tightly in place. Paul patted her shoulder sympathetically before leaving set, shaking Cillian’s hand on the way out. Cillian sat down beside her quietly, waiting for everyone else to filter out. Once the room was empty, he scooted closer, slipping his hand in hers beneath the table. “I had it, Cill, I had it.”

“I know.” He soothed, stroking her knuckles with his thumb. “I did it for my sake, not yours. This suit is itching.” He joked lightly, pulling at his collar. Looking up, she felt a smile creeping onto her face. There he was, being cheesy, always trying to cheer her up.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s gotten into me.”

“I think the guest in your trailer might have something to do with it.”

Nodding, she looked down at their hands, at Cillian’s gentle fingers dancing along her veins. She thought about her husband; how he’d travelled all this way and spent the entire afternoon waiting for her. Yet here she was, comfortable in the arms of another man, betraying him for the thousandth time.

Cillian could see the cogs turning in her head. Forgetting to blink, she stared down at the tabletop, studying the cracks in the brown paint. He squeezed her hand softly, reminding her he was still there. “What are you thinking?” He whispered.

“I have to tell him, don’t I?” She asked, not really seeking an answer. For months she’d tried to plan a way to tell him, to come out with the truth and end her marriage for good, but she just couldn’t bring herself to do it. It wasn’t something she could do over the phone, but she also couldn’t bear to see him in person. She continued to pretend everything was OK, smiling through their FaceTime calls and sending love hearts whenever she couldn’t answer. ‘Couldn’t’ meaning when she was with Cillian.

“I don’t know how I’m going to do it, or when, or where, but I know I have to. I mean, it’s been a year already, and I think I just lost track of time but then – “

“Hey, hey.” Cillian grabbed her face gently, putting a pause to her rambling. “You don’t need to go making any grand declarations today.”

“If I leave it any longer, it’ll just make it worse.”

Y/N seemed to stare straight through him, her jaw tensing beneath his fingers. Part of him wished he could fix it for her, that he could go to her husband himself and tell him the truth to save her the burden. He feared how her husband could react, knowing he had a habit of getting jealous and suspicious whenever she got too friendly with a man. He knew he could handle it but wasn’t sure she’d be able to.

“Y/N!” A voice shouted from the entrance; it was Sophie, looking for her so she could drag her to her birthday night out. The pair separated, Cillian standing awkwardly. “There you are. Come with me, I’ve found the perfect dress for you to wear tonight!”

“I’ll leave you ladies to it.” He smiled, giving Y/N one last reassuring smile before leaving the building. The last thing Y/N wanted to do was go out, but she didn’t want the crew hating her even more after her earlier fiasco, so she dragged herself to the wardrobe department and let Sophie show her the dresses they were going to ‘borrow’ for the evening.

“A vision in red! Happy birthday, sweetheart.” Paul beamed, hugging Y/N tight as she joined the group, her husband in tow. Paul made the effort to greet him - the man lucky enough to steal Y/N’s heart - as he put it. She laughed along, the pang of guilt inside her chest doubling in size. He may’ve had occupancy of her heart once upon a time, but that space had since been filled by someone else, and that someone was currently sat in the corner looking as handsome as ever. Cillian raised his glass to her, smiling, his arm flexing in his t-shirt. She nodded back, the all-too-familiar rush of heat spreading up her neck and to her face.

It was the perfect night for it, considering the football match just a few miles down the road was keeping most of the city occupied for a couple of hours. Everyone chose to pack out the pubs, leaving the majority of the bars fairly empty and ideal for the star-studded crowd to hide out and enjoy their night. It wasn’t often they all stepped out together like this, but birthdays were an exception.

“Drink?” Y/N’s husband asked, throwing his arm over her shoulder. Leading her to the bar, he gushed about his conversation with the Arthur Shelby, and how much of a nice guy he was. She wondered if he’d speak so highly of Cillian, or if his strange vendetta would get the better of him. “Shots for the birthday girl?”

“Oh, not yet. Let me ease myself in.” She laughed weakly, drumming her fingers on the bar.

“Not even one?”

“Why? Are you trying to get me drunk?” She raised a brow, eliciting a chuckle from him.

“Well, you always were fun after a few drinks…” He purred, leaning down to press a kiss to her cheek. She grimaced at his words, but luckily he didn’t notice as he was too busy waving at the bartender.

He ordered, yelling obnoxiously over the music. Y/N’s eyes wandered across the back of the bar as she absentmindedly bobbed her head to the song playing, mouthing some of the words. “Oh, I’ll get these.” They both turned to see Cillian standing there with his hands tucked into his pockets, a friendly smile on his face.

“It’s alright, mate. I promised I’d get the birthday girl her first drink.” Her husband’s hold on her tightened as he spoke, his fake grin wide enough to blind a man.

Y/N stood there between the two men, her heart pounding as she felt Cillian’s stare on her face. He’d had good intentions coming over, wanting to keep an eye on her, but she wished he’d stayed put at his table. She already struggled to act normal around her husband, and her lover’s presence only made things ten times more difficult.

“Perhaps some shots then? My treat?” Cillian rested his arm on the bar, catching the attention of another bartender.

“She doesn’t want – “

“Shots sound great. Thanks, Cill – ian.” She stuttered, correcting the nickname before her husband noticed. He looked down at his wife, then back at the man beside her who calmly ordered, leaning over the bar so he didn’t have to shout. Funny how she suddenly agreed to shots when he was the one paying…

Cillian passed Y/N and her husband a shot each, and they downed the drinks together. She winced as it burned her throat, sticking out her tongue as she groaned. “Tequila! Are you trying to kill me?”

The Irishman laughed, nodding a last thank you across the bar. “Happy birthday, Y/N.” He smiled sincerely, giving her arm an affectionate squeeze. He left the bar, rejoining the cast and crew and instantly slotting himself into a conversation. She watched him fondly, almost forgetting about the man stood behind her. Stretching his arm over her shoulder, her husband placed the drink into her hand.

She turned and took a sip. “Thank you… Wait, you didn’t take your shot?” She asked, pointing at the full glass on the bar. He shook his head, taking a swig of his beer. “Why not?”

Swallowing with a loud ‘ah’, he shrugged, his expression blank. “I figured it was a moment to be shared between the two of you. Here. Why don’t you have mine?” He slid the shot towards her, tapping the rim of the glass twice. “Go on. It’s your birthday after all.”

“You’ve got some nerve. Can’t you go a day without starting this bloody argument?” She hissed, pushing the shot back to him. Some of it spilt over the edge, leaving a sticky sheen on the bar. “Drink it, and let’s go join my friends.”

“I wouldn’t drink it if you paid me to.” He leaned down to her level, trying to intimidate her, but it didn’t work. She wasn’t scared of him; she just saw him as a pathetic, jealous little boy. When he behaved like this, it made her wonder why she ever felt bad for cheating on him at all.

“Fine. You want to be a child? Then two can play that game, babe.” She spat, turning on her heels and heading towards Cillian. She slipped herself into the group between him and Sophie, linking arms with the woman on her left. “Which one of you is going to dance with me?”

“I thought you’d never ask!” Sophie squealed, taking Y/N’s drink. “Look after this, will you?” Thrusting it into Cillian’s free hand, she then dragged Y/N into the nearest space, throwing her arms in the air and whooping to the music. They joined hands and spun around like two girls in a playground, shouting the wrong lyrics to the song and giggling uncontrollably.

Y/N twirled around and set her sights on Cillian, beckoning him over with her finger. “I’m not dancing!” He laughed over the music, keeping a firm grip on their drinks. “I’m guarding your drink!”

“No, go on. It’s her birthday.” Her husband goaded, appearing behind Cillian. Y/N frowned as she watched the two men speak, unable to hear what they were saying. Sophie grabbed her and spun her around, putting her back to them.

“Shouldn’t it be you dancing with her?” Cillian asked innocently, gently placing the drinks on the table.

“Oh… I don’t think she’s my friend at the moment.”

Watching his wife dance, he got the sense he was losing her; that she was slipping away from him and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He’d noticed how Cillian watched her, that lovesick puppy dog smile pasted on his face and eyes following her every move. He had attended many an event with her past co-stars, and none of them had ever looked at her like that. To him, Cillian was showing off, gloating that he’d lured his wife away from him. He wanted to wipe the shit-eating grin off his face if it was the last thing he ever did.

Y/N stumbled out of Sophie’s grasp, dizzily making her way back to the table. “Everything alright?” She asked, out of breath and reaching for her drink. “It’s a workout dancing with her.”

“Don’t you worry, love. Everything’s fine. I was just talking to Cillian here about you. About the two of you, I mean.” Sniggering behind his glass, he gulped down the remainder of his beer and wiped his mouth, clearing his throat. Cillian’s face contorted in confusion, his fingers gripping the edge of the table, toes curling inside his shoes out of frustration.

“What’s he said to you?” She asked, directing her question to Cillian. He opened his mouth to speak, only to be rudely interrupted.

“So quick to jump to his defence.”

“We’re not doing this here.” Y/N snapped, dropping her glass with a thud. “You are not showing me up in front of my colleagues, my friends.”

“Pick a place then, love. It won’t make a fucking difference.” Her husband could be nasty when need be, but she wasn’t about to stand and take it, especially not with an audience.

“Right - “ Cillian started, cut off by Y/N barging past them both and towards the doors. This caught the attention of her cast mates, which Cillian quickly fed a lie to before speeding after her.

He found her outside, stood against the wall and hunched over, hands clutching her knees. “Y/N, I’m so sor - “

“Cillian, don’t you dare apologise for his behaviour. Do you hear me?” Her voice shook as she spoke, the sudden rush of anger overwhelming her. She slid down the wall, sitting on the pavement, her exposed shoulders flat against the cold bricks. “Who does he think he is? Acting like that in front of everyone? I could lose my fucking job.”

“You wouldn’t lose - “

“Yes, Cillian. I would. If the studio… If the writers found out about this - “

“They won’t.” He asserted, kneeling down so they were on the same level. “They won’t.”

She took a few deep breaths, Cillian’s presence calming her down as he crouched opposite her, his fingers resting lightly on her knees. “You know, for months I have felt like the worst human being in the world. Looking at myself in the mirror and seeing the cheat staring back, the lousy fucking cheat.”

“So, you’re not perfect. You’ve done some, admittedly not great things, but I don’t think anyone in there would blame you.”

“Somehow I don’t think they’d praise me for fucking my co-star behind my husband’s back.” She scoffed, rolling her eyes and rubbing her temple with her fingertips. “God, I’m sorry, Cillian. I’m not trying to… You’re so much more than that, I – “

“It’s alright. You’re upset… And I can handle whatever you throw at me.” He joked, reaching out to pinch her chin.

Hearing the doors swing open, the two flinched, Cillian rising from the ground instinctively. “Well, isn’t this cosy?” Y/N’s husband drawled, sauntering towards them. “So… I was right, yeah? You and him?” He pointed between them, his words directed at Y/N.

“Please…”

“Just answer me. Put me out of my God damn misery.” He threw his arms in the air in defeat, letting them fall to his sides, hitting his thighs with a loud slap.

Pressing her palms against the ground, Y/N pushed herself up, adjusting her dress as she steadied her feet. She approached her husband, and Cillian put his arm out to try and hold her back. “It’s OK, Cill.” She stood looking up at the man she once loved, her hands balled into fists at her side, thumbs picking at the fabric clinging to her legs. “You’re right. You figured it out.”

He exhaled a laugh, kissing his teeth. “I knew it.” Turning away, he ran his hands through his hair, looking up to the sky and sighing deeply. “How long?” He looked back, hands on his hips and brows furrowed. “Y/N, how long?”

“Since my twenty-ninth birthday…” She said shyly, realising just how much worse that made everything look. It had been exactly a year, pretty much to the hour, that she’d shared the first kiss with Cillian that started it all.

“You’ve got to be kidding me. Well, I am sorry for interrupting your little anniversary night…” Exasperated, he took a deep breath and exhaled the air with puffed cheeks. “You know what? You are not the woman I married.” He pointed his finger in her face, but she didn’t react. Folding her arms over her chest, she stepped back until she felt Cillian against her, his hands supporting her upper arms. He whispered comforting words into her ear and her eyes began to water as she continued to stare at her husband, distant and unblinking.

Silence fell upon them, and Y/N expected more to be said, but was surprised to witness her husband turn and walk away. Anything else he had left to say was muttered under his breath as he disappeared around the corner. She and Cillian waited a few seconds to see if he would come back, but the street stayed unusually empty and quiet. “It’s alright. He’s gone.” Cillian whispered, and she spun in his arms, clinging onto him desperately.

Her thoughts felt like they were drowning in a whirlpool, like she couldn’t take control of them no matter how hard she tried. The heaviness in her heart had dissipated, but the ache in her stomach and throbbing in her head persisted. “Can we get out of here, please?” She begged, her head buried in Cillian’s chest.

“Shall I tell the others we’re leaving?”

“Just leave it. Please, can we just go?” Her voice cracked as her hold on him tightened, pieces of his shirt screwed up between her fingers.

“Alright. Let’s go.”

Lying on the bed, Y/N stared at the ceiling, her fingers ghosting over Cillian’s as he laid beside her. A strange mixture of relief and dread washed over her body, making her feel weak yet incredibly alive at the same time. She wanted to jump up and down, to declare her feelings for Cillian from the highest rooftop she could find. However, another part of her wanted to hide, to burrow under the covers like a scared child until it was safe to come out. She was too afraid to check her phone; it was probably already blowing up with messages from her family and friends.

How could you?

Who was there for you when you were starting out? Did the fame get to your head?

He’s heartbroken! You should be ashamed.

The mere thought of it all made her head spin, and it was far easier to leave her phone on do not disturb and pretend no one else existed for a moment. Her thoughts felt so loud, and she wondered if they both held their breaths for a moment, would Cillian be able to hear the gears twisting and turning inside her brain? Or the steam coming out of her ears?

“Some birthday this was.” She sighed, closing her eyes and shaking her head. “Am I supposed to feel bad? Like… Is this the point where I’m supposed to cry and scream about how terrible of a person I am?”

“You can if you want to.” Cillian turned his head to the left, and she looked over at the same time, their eyes meeting in the middle.

“No… I mean, it’s not that I don’t want to. I just can’t. I don’t feel bad, not anymore. Is that horrible?”

“How do you feel?”

This was a new feeling for Y/N, for the both of them in fact. Throughout their relationship they’d spoken about everything from their favourite albums to their very particular pet peeves. They’d even spent a whole night debating the existence of aliens, sitting out on the balcony of a hotel room and bickering with each other beneath the stars. The thing they hadn’t really spoken about were their feelings, including their feelings for each other. Those three fateful words were still dangling from the tip of Cillian’s tongue, and there was so much Y/N wanted to say in return.

“I feel… Relieved. I feel free.” Clasping her hands together, she tucked them under her head. “That’s awful to admit, isn’t it?”

“It’s better than pretending.” He rubbed her shoulder soothingly, his thumb slipping beneath the strap of her dress. “Paul was right, you are a vision in red.”

Y/N giggled, swatting his hand away and adjusting the strap. “You are such a flirt!”

They stayed looking at each other, studying each other’s faces as if there was something new to see. Y/N counted the little flecks in Cillian’s bright blue eyes, watching his pupils twitch and change sizes with every few blinks. He added up the freckles on her face, imagining how they’d look if they were connected like tiny constellations across her cheeks. He smiled to himself, his tongue poking out to swipe across his bottom lip. “What?” She asked, eyes squinting with playful suspicion.

“Nothing. It’s nothing.” His voice was gentle and quiet, barely reaching above a whisper. It wasn’t necessary in the room they were in. Not a single sound could be heard around them, except for their breathing and bodies shuffling against the sheets. He swallowed his words, assuming that perhaps she wasn’t ready to hear them. It had only been an hour since she confessed to her husband in the street, and he didn’t want to overwhelm her with a big declaration of love. He’d know when the time was right, he was sure of it.

Rolling off the bed, Y/N pressed a kiss to Cillian’s forehead and went to take a shower. Whilst she was gone, he looked around the bedroom, spotting various bits of his belongings scattered from the many times he’d stayed over. Filming for the series was almost complete, and it would soon be time for them to pack up their rentals and head home, wherever that may be. He thought about how things might change now that they technically didn’t have to sneak around anymore. Would people start to notice? Would they be victims of some derogatory Daily Mail headline by morning?

Returning in a towel, Y/N sat on the edge of the bed, combing through her damp hair in the mirror. Cillian knelt behind her, balancing on the mattress as he ducked his head down to press a soft kiss to her shoulder. “I’m sorry you didn’t get the birthday you deserve.” He murmured against her skin. She closed her eyes and hummed, enjoying the feeling of his lips moving across her shoulder blade.

“I think it was exactly what I deserved.” She whispered, turning her head to catch a glimpse of him. Resting his chin on her shoulder, he gazed up at her through his lashes.

“There’s still just under two hours left of it. Do you think we can turn it around?”

“What do you suggest?”

Cillian scrambled to his feet, hitting the carpet with a clumsy thud. Clicking his fingers, he pointed to Y/N, a goofy smile on his face. “You still have that wine in the fridge?”

“You really trust me to drink wine after last time?” She raised a brow then mimed throwing up, clutching her stomach with her arm. “After last time…” She fake gagged, making him grimace.

“OK, OK! Bad idea!”

He stood with one hand on his hip, the other raking through his hair. Cocking her head to the side, Y/N admired the view in front of her, pinching her bottom lip with her teeth. There was something oddly appealing about Cillian in regular clothes with the signature Tommy Shelby haircut. He wore a crisp white t-shirt with dark jeans, which just happened to be one of her favourite looks on him. It was simple, yet he somehow made it the most attractive thing she’d ever laid eyes on. Her eyes followed the trail of his veins down his forearm, where they reached the hand that sat just above his waistband.

“I’m gonna be honest, that was my only idea.” He laughed, resting his cheek in his hand.

“Cillian…” She said softly, shuffling to the edge of the mattress. “Come here.”

As he approached, she parted her legs, giving him enough room to stand between them. Placing his hands on her shoulders, he looked down, his eyes meeting hers. She looked so beautiful like this; just wearing a towel with unruly wet strands of hair stuck to the sides of her face. Her cheeks blushed a light pink, decorated in a couple of stray droplets of water from the shower.

“Closer.” She whispered, reaching up to grab his shirt. He lifted his knee and rested it on the mattress beside her, using his hands as support as he hovered over her, lowering her until she was laid on her back.

“Is this close enough?” He breathed, his palms flat on either side of her head.

“Almost…”

He lowered himself further as if he was performing a press-up, using the strength in his wrists to steady himself above her. “This will do.” She smiled, bringing her lips to meet his.

Dropping to his elbows, Cillian weaved his hands into her hair, tugging gently at the root. She moaned softly into his mouth, arching her back to inch herself closer to him and press their chests together. He groaned, a shiver coursing through his body as the towel around her dampened his shirt.

Pulling away from the kiss, they each opened their eyes and gazed at the other, panting quietly with heat-flushed cheeks and swollen lips. Their faces were just close enough to still be able to see one another properly without their vision blurring. Y/N sighed, her forefinger tracing the curve of his cheekbone. “Are you OK?” Cillian asked, running the pad of his thumb along her bottom lip.

“Yeah, I just…” She couldn’t concentrate with his fingers under her chin, featherlight and careful across her skin. Blinking slowly, she relaxed into his touch, relishing in the feeling of the goosebumps that prickled her cheeks.

“We can stop if you want.”

“No, no. That’s not what I want. Quite the opposite, actually.” Her words weren’t exactly a lie, but they didn’t seem to match the look on her face.

Worried, he flipped onto his side and laid next to her, his right hand finding a loose piece of thread hanging from the towel and twisting it around his finger. “If you need a bit of space for a while – “

“No, Cillian. Please don’t say that.”

“Alright, I’m sorry…”

“I just don’t know what happens next. Am I supposed to announce it to everyone? Do I file for divorce on Monday? How does this all work?” She laughed slightly, mostly at herself for being so clueless. “I think telling everyone my marriage is over will be the easy part. How do I tell them about us?”

“Well, the divorce stuff can wait for a bit. You don’t need to rush into anything.” He patted the bed, searching for her hand. She turned her palm upwards, letting his slide over the top and their fingers entwine. “As for telling anyone…”

“What?” She rolled onto her side, mirroring his position. “Do you think we should tell people?”

“I was going to say, is there really any need in telling anyone yet? I mean, we’ve kept it between the two of us for this long already and – “

“Yes, but that was because we didn’t have a choice.”

“I know... but just think about it. I think it would be weirder if we charged into work next week and announced it to everyone.”

She stared at a crease in Cillian’s shirt, daydreaming about how things were going to be. He was right. They didn’t need to shout about it, and Y/N certainly didn’t want to draw any attention to herself just yet. She already knew what people were going to think of her and label her as, and she wanted to delay the backlash for as long as possible; whether her husband was going to allow that was another story…

Cillian opened his arms for her, scooting higher onto the bed so his feet were no longer dangling off the edge. She followed, snuggling into him and tangling her legs with his. The silence between them was heavy, like there were a million words going unsaid. Y/N knew that Cillian was everything she wanted, but a small part of her worried about what would happen to her husband. Being married to someone for four years was going to leave a stamp on her forever, but she sincerely hoped he’d be OK, and that he wouldn’t try to inflict a war on her and Cillian. She knew in time that things would smooth themselves out and feel normal, but for now, she was content to sit in her little confusing bubble, just as long as Cillian was in it with her.

“Cill?”

“Mhm?”

“When we met earlier in wardrobe, and I spotted that box, what was in it?” She smiled sweetly, batting her eyelashes.

“You really wanna know?” She nodded. “OK… Well, that box wasn’t actually for you.”

“What?”

“I don’t know what was in it! It was already there.”

“Cillian!” She slapped his chest playfully and he huffed, feigning hurt. “Why did you say it was for me?”

“Technically, I didn’t! You just assumed.” He laughed, watching her cheeks redden and brows knit together. “Don’t look so disappointed! Listen, I’ll make it up to you tomorrow when I give, or rather take you to your real present.”

“Now I’m intrigued.”

“That’s all I’m saying! I’m not going to spoil it.”

“Fine…” He hugged her tightly, inhaling the scent of her shampoo. She listened to his heartbeat, counting the thumps in sets of eight. Looking up from his chest, she was surprised to see him already looking at her. “What about my other present?” She whispered.

“What do you – Oh, right. That.”

She sat up, kneeling beside him so she could see him better. He rotated onto his back, folding his arms across his chest, and tucking his hands under his arms. “Y/N – “

“No, wait!” She turned her head, fixing her messy hair and readjusting the towel around her body. Turning back with a flip of her hair and a dramatic flailing of her arms, she gestured for him to sit up.

“What are you doing?”

Awkwardly crawling closer on her knees, she ran the back of her hand over his cheek, leaving it to rest below his jaw. “Cillian.”

“Y/N.” He chuckled, and she immediately hushed him. She tried her best to be serious, but laughter threatened to burst out of her. “Whatever you’re doing, please get on with it because you’re freaking me ou – “

“Here it comes…” She spoke in her best attempt at an Irish accent, cringing at herself.

“Oh for Christ’s sake.” He threw his head back, belly laughing, and she grabbed him by his shirt to pull him back. Composing himself, he bit his cheeks to refrain from laughing any more. “Sorry… Go on.”

“I love you.”

He was silent, staring at her as he ran his fingers along his upper lip nervously. He knew it was coming, yet it still caught him by surprise, hearing those words come out of her mouth. He’d heard her say them plenty of times when they were in character, but this was different. They sounded so sweet when they finally meant something, and feeling her eyes on him made his heart pound in his chest. “Too cheesy?” Y/N asked, dropping the terrible accent.

“Cheesy, but I liked it.”

Sitting down cross-legged, she reached her hand out for him which he gladly took. He kissed her knuckles softly, keeping his lips there as he looked up at her. “I love you too.” He confessed. Both their bodies seemed to slump as if a weight they’d been carrying had been lifted, and despite everything that had happened, or rather gone wrong, that night, this moment felt right. He kissed her again, before slotting his fingers between hers and giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “And we’re going to be OK.”

#cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy oneshot #peaky blinders #cillian murphy

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secretlovezz · 1 year ago

Note

I was wondering I could request headcanons with König, Soap, Price and Ghost celebrating a birthday with their s/o who thought that they’d forget/didn’t know? If it’s too many characters (😭I know writing is a struggle) maybe it’d be okay with just Ghost?

By the time I’m writing this, my birthday would’ve been tomorrow :]

I hope you have a good afternoon/day/evening/night

I'm so late omg (I'm horrible at getting requests done I'm so sorry!!!!) but here it is!!! I ended up only writing for Soap and Ghost even though the goal was to write for all of 141+konig so maybe there'll be a part 2 with everyone else eventually😭 Happy belated birthday babe and thank you for the request 🫶🫶🫶🫶 ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Simon "Ghost" Riley

I feel like because Simon most likely doesn't celebrate/do things for his birthday he won't do too much for you (this doesn't mean he doesn't care though).

He gets you the cutest presents, ones with meaning and love, ones that'll last for as long as possible.

Although he's nervous Simon is slick about the process of giving you your gift.

He's hiding it behind a cushion while the two of you are casually watching a movie together on the couch.

He hasn't said much to you all day (he is horrible at keeping secrets from you so he's kept his mouth shut so he doesn't spill the fact that he got you something).

You notice his silence just like you notice how Simon is being twitchy next to you, the arm around your neck is flexing and his free hand is wiping against his pants to get rid of sweat.

You don't think you've ever been more anxious and on your birthday no less.

Has he forgotten?

You feel sick to your stomach, nausea overtaking you and making you uncomfortable. Your body wiggles against your boyfriend's side and his eyes drift to you. His brown eyes are searching you intently; his gaze makes you all the more nervous.

He contemplates saying anything before his lips finally part to ask, "You alright, Dove?"

Your head is snapping in his direction before he can even finish his question, eyes wide in a way that make Simon's squint in confusion. He twists his body to face you a little more forcing you to look at him.

"What's wrong," He asks, your eyes are darting to any place that isn't his eyes because if you do he'll see straight through you. Sometimes you hate that he can just tell when you're upset.

When you don't answer him Simon sighs and stretches his arm to reach behind him. Your eyes water and your plump bottom lip quivers in response to his movement but when he pulls his hand back in between the both of you he's holding a little box.

Now your eyes squint in confusion causing a tear or two to fall out. Your boyfriend is quickly dropping the box and reaching to wipe them from your face pressing a swift kiss to your forehead before pulling back.

Before you can ask him anything about the box simon is grabbing your hands putting them together in a cupping motion and dropping the box into your hands. You look at him doe eyed and he motions for you to open it kissing your temple once more. If you weren't a little sad you would have laughed or giggled at the horrible attempt of a bow around the box. You pull at it and it comes loose and falls into your lap. You glance at Simon once more eyes still a little watery and he nuzzles his nose against your cheek.

You open the box slowly a little worried of what you might find inside.

When you open it to see dog tags you choke out a sob.

"It's a replica, not the real thing but still, happy birthday dove," Simon says while swiftly moving your face into the crook of his neck. You move yourself to straddle your boyfriend arms wrapping around his neck. You stop your cries to place a quick kiss on his neck. Your professions of love mumbled into his neck as you hiccup.

"I love you, hm? So much," he says and Simon chuckles when you whine at him.

"So so much," He whispers.

《---------------♡

John "Soap" McTavish

I lowkey feel like there's no possible way for you to feel like he's forgotten.

He's talking your ear off about what you guys are gonna do weeks before.

But imagine he gets called away just days before your birthday, he'd get so sad :(

He wanted to celebrate it properly; take you out to dinner buy you some flowers and a present that you would adore one that could make you smile.

So alas he's away on your big day and he's so busy and has so much work to do he almost doesn't get the chance to call you.

You try to watch a movie, one that you and Johnny would enjoy together if he were home, cuddled up against each other, slipping gentle intimate kisses to one another, laughing and giggling at stupidly cringe movie scenes. His hands would never leave you, they never did.

You miss him.

The thought made your lips quiver and your eyes water. You felt that you usually did okay, good even when Johnny wasn't around but today was your birthday and he wasn't here and it was harder than you thought it would be.

You picked up your phone and turned it on.

No notifications.

You'd hoped he'd at least text you but it was rounding 10:30, it was dark out and the lack of natural light was making you sleepy, but there was still nothing from him.

You're nodding off trying to keep yourself awake but eventually, your eyes are closing and your head is leaning back towards the cushion of the couch. You're snapped out of your closeness to sleep by the ringing of your phone. You scrambled for it moving quickly to answer whoever was calling you.

"Hello?" You answer.

A rumbling chuckle on the other line causes tears to gather at your water line, "were you sleeping, can hear it in your voice," you could imagine the smile gracing his face.

Your voice is shakey and quiet when you respond, "I miss you," you pull your knees to your chest, "I wish you were here."

You hear the ruffles of fabric, you wonder what he's doing.

"Wish I was there too believe me... Jesus, I miss you. Was gonna have flowers sent to you but Cap'n's threw me into somethin' I couldn't get out of and-"

You smile, cheesing into your pajama pants, "You were gonna buy me flowers?"

Johnny scoffs softly, "'course, my pretty girl deserves her flowers always and when I get back I'm gonna get you so many flowers you won't know what to do."

You laugh and he thinks he's never heard a sound more beautiful. He joins your laughter for a moment before the both of you quiet down slowly.

"Happy birthday sweet girl," Johnny whispers, "I love you"

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley fluff #simon riley imagine #john soap mactavish x reader #john mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish #john McTavish #cod mwii x reader #cod mw2 x reader #cod fanfiction #cod x reader #cod fanfic #ghost x reader #soap x reader

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