#id just like to sit in corner and scream

[irisintheafterglow]

coparenting!megumi with satoru where one of you gets lost after school supply shopping it's not the actual child that gets lost

"megs, where's satoru?"

"i thought he was with you."

"that's a problem, then, because he hasn't been with me for the past ten minutes." you plop down next to him, sliding your sunglasses to the top of your head and taking in the busy park in front of you. the weather was comfortable today, cool enough that you weren't sweating but warm enough to have megumi's ice cream dripping down the cone toward his little fingers. you wordlessly hand him a napkin and he takes it without looking at you, continuing to observe the people throwing around a frisbee or having a picnic in the sunshine. there was a playground on the other side of the field and you could vaguely make out the blurry forms of children running about. "you can go play, if you want. i can stay and watch the stuff."

"i don't really want to," he replies. "i like sitting here with you." the corner of your mouth turns up into a smile. he was barely big enough for his legs to touch the ground and he absentmindedly kicked his feet back and forth under the bench. "do we need to go anywhere else today?"

"i don't think so, no. i think we got everything that you'll need for next week." he nods in assent and the toes of his shoes brush against the plastic grocery bags holding his new school supplies.

you could tell megumi was excited, in his own quiet way, when the car pulled into the parking lot of the store. as much as he acted as the bane of satoru's existence, you knew he liked spending time with both of you. you stopped satoru with a gentle hand on his shoulder when his lanky legs ran for a cart, gesturing toward megumi heading down the first aisle, basket in hand. you barely had to do anything for most of the trip; at most, you'd remind the boy of a specific type of pencil or notebook he needed and provide feedback if he was split between two different designs. any additions by satoru were pointedly ignored by the boy unless they were reiterated by you. "if you need anything else, just let satoru know and he'll bring it to your school."

"you can't drop it off instead?"

"i know i usually do, but i have an assignment that's sending me out of town. you'll have to make do with your esteemed mentor for a bit." you smirk and nudge his shoulder with your elbow, chuckling softly when he frowns. it was a little funny, seeing a child have the expression of a businessman desperately waiting for retirement. "what is it, megs?"

"he scares all my teachers." you choke on the sip you take from your bottle, jolting forward and laugh-coughing your way to normal breathing again. it didn't surprise you, what megumi said; it was the incredibly straightforward, slightly amused note in his voice that had water going down the wrong pipes. "i'm serious. whenever you're visiting, people always gush about how well you take care of me."

"and when satoru comes around?"

"they hide." a prideful noise escapes your throat and the two of you have identical smirks as you sit on the bench. your eyes carefreely scan the field for any bright white hair or screams of commotion that could indicate your boyfriend's presence, but there are no such things. nonetheless, you're not worried. he always found his way back to you somehow.

at least, that's what you think.

you feel the telltale buzz-buzz-buzz of your phone in your back pocket and roll your eyes when you see the caller id.

"hello?"

"i'm lost."

"mmm, poor baby," you deadpan, glancing at megumi to see a small smile on his face.

"aren't you going to come find me?" his voice is teasingly playful, implying that he disappeared on purpose just for the hell of it.

"i'm not playing hide and seek with you, satoru. just come back to the ice cream cart."

"but it's so much more fun if you come get me instead," he argues, his voice slightly too insistent for you to think that he's joking. he better be kidding.

"satoru."

"okay, fine. i actually don't know where the hell i am." he is not kidding.

you sigh, standing and taking megumi's hand. "just retrace your steps, sweetheart." you stand and walk a random direction in hopes that your navigationally-challenged boyfriend would find his way to you. the plastic handle of the store bag digs into the crook of your elbow as you continue to hold the phone up to your ear. "can you describe your surroundings?"

"uh, trees."

"those are everywhere, satoru. we're in a park." you can't help the giggle that escapes your lips towards the tail end of your sentence. the irony of the most powerful human on earth being lost in a park was priceless. "any specific monuments or something that i can head to?"

"there's a big field-"

"again, baby, this is a park. look, i'm just gonna do the thing. if you can't find us from that, you might need to rethink your career choice." megumi stifles a snicker from next to you and you abruptly hang up, cutting off the distorted protests blaring from your phone. you have a seat on the grass and megumi mirrors your position, taking your hand when you offer it to him. "just like we practiced, okay?" he sighs impatiently, but you knew it wasn't you he was irritated with. "alright, i'll go first and then you add on to me, yeah?"

stretching your neck from side to side, you close your eyes and slowly channel more cursed energy until it engulfs your entire body. soon, you feel megumi's faint but determined aura bump against yours. after less than a minute, instinct tells you that satoru received your beacon and you look over your shoulder to see him strolling casually across the lawn. he's tall enough that, when he finally stands above you and megumi, he blocks out most of the sun. you can barely see his eyes, but you know he can see the exasperation on your face. he merely beams at you like you produced the oxygen he was breathing.

"found you."

"took you long enough." he effortlessly pulls you up from the ground and you stumble, nearly slamming into his chest. "where did you end up going, anyway?"

"there's an old daycare center towards the back of the park. sensed something there and wanted to kill it before it bothered us," he explains, humming when you brush your fingers over the fabric covering his eyes. he delicately takes your hand and presses light kisses to your knuckles, so dotingly you'd think either of you had just come back from war. you're about to kiss him properly when a small voice clears its throat some ways below you. your face heats, suddenly remembering megumi is still there.

"are we ready to go, or should i give you two a few minutes?" satoru's jaw drops in indignancy.

"watch it, megs, or i'm gonna have satoru be the one dropping off all of your things during the school year." your hand ruffles the black spikes of his hair and he pouts.

"please don't."

"wait, what's wrong with me bringing your things?" megumi exhales tiredly like he'd clocked out of his 9-5 and walks ahead to the parking lot. you and satoru lag behind, his arm wrapped around your waist and matching his steps with yours.

"i'll explain in the car. will you be able to find it okay, lost child?" you raise your eyebrows patronizingly, putting on your best doe-eyed gaze. he scoffs, but you're not done making fun of him just yet. "whatever shall i do if you were to suddenly disappear? i may be forced to find another...suitor." you bat your eyelashes dramatically and you can see his eyes rolling behind his blindfold.

"ha, ha. very funny." his hands ever so slightly squeeze the flesh around your hip and you jump. "now i know how it feels when i start reciting shakespeare over minor inconveniences." you laugh and melt a little when his thumb draws apologetic little circles on your waist. god, he's so in love with you.

"i'm surprised you didn't start monologuing on the phone. it worried me."

"you don't ever need to worry about finding me because i'll always come back."

"you promise?"

"on the moon and the stars."

prompt is from @youneedsomeprompts because coparenting megumi inspiration comes and goes from my mind like an endangered species :))

hope you enjoyed ! likes, reblogs, and feedback are always appreciated <3

[r0ttenhearts]

wasted on you |||

idol scaramouche x reader

part Ii

“ohmygosh, have you heard 4nemo’s new single?

“it’s sooo good (y/n!) you have to listen to it.”

“who’s your favorite one? mine would have to be scaramouche.”

your smile would always falter at the mention of his name. not like your friends ever knew you were acquaintanced with the idol group. “i don’t really like idol stuff, it’s not my thing.” you would always brush them off, refusing to take one of their earbuds to listen to the songs they wanted to show you.

hearing scaramouche’s voice again wouldn’t help you, not when you’ve gotten this far. not when you’ve moved on from him.

with college exams over and the end of your final year coming to a close you found yourself with nothing but time. with time came too many thoughts that would tumble around in your mind. too many what if’s and what could have been’s had plagued your mind since leaving scaramouche there backstage.

leaving him was so difficult, but being without him felt harder. you couldn’t help but sigh, now sitting alone in your room as the memories came back to you.

memories of splitting popsicles with him, after rehearsal drinks with his friends, smoking in a field together one of the rare times he was free from his filled schedule.

sometimes you couldn’t help but miss it. but then came the.. not so pleasant memories. the tears, the sore throat after screaming at each other, the way he’d always leave after an argument.

“please, scara! i just want you here with me. just this once. it’s been three years. give me this at least, please. i haven’t seen you in so long.”

remembering your own pleads to him never failed to make your heart ache. it still felt as if there was something unresolved, even after giving him his engagement ring back.

“i don’t wanna fucking see you (y/n)! id rather spend time with my friends doing something i enjoy than wasting my time with you.”

here comes the waterworks. tears would prick in the corners of your eyes when you remembered his tone that day. that angry look on his face.. he never looked so bothered before. it scared you so much that you still remembered it now, two years later.

it was strange seeing him on billboards and ads all across town and even on your own phone. in contrast to the angry glare he held for you, but an indifferent look to the public. would he still look at you that way? or would he look at you the same way he would everyone else?

curiosity got the best of you as you tapped on your phone, looking up his profile on instagram. there he was, looking the same as ever. maybe a little thinner but he still looked as beautiful as the day you left him.

a small smile graced your lips for a moment before it fell, seeing how much fun he had been having with his friends. you still kept in contact with kazuha, but never bothered to ask about him. you both knew it wouldn’t be good for you, so it was an unspoken rule.

“at least he’s doing well..” you mumbled to yourself before shutting off your phone. groaning internally, you knew this was a problem you had to deal with. this constant turmoil inside your head.

you decided you’d put an end to this. once and for all. you thought up a plan before texting kazuha, telling him what you wanted to resolve. despite his gentle warnings you wouldn’t listen. you just had to get through to him! make him understand your reasoning.

eventually kazuha gave in, and now you were standing in the pit to one of their concerts. it made you feel queasy remembering the last time you attended one. with your head hung low you waited for the group to start, they were opening for another up and coming idol group. it almost made you smile seeing scaramouche walk on stage with that glittery white outfit. the same glare on his features as before. he didn’t change, did he?

that sentiment making anxiety well up inside of you. you didn’t know how he would take it. seeing you again after so long. but you didn’t want him to know you were there to begin with, so you hid away from view, angled at a way that you could still watch them perform.

watching them now reminded you of one of the first concerts you ever went to of theirs, thanks to scaramouche getting tickets for you. that feeling of bubbling excitement and anxiousness when they were still so early in their career. you used to genuinely hope that they would make it, and they did!

his singing was stronger than it used to be, voice full of emotions as his eyes were fixated on the mic. a part of you missed this. coming to his shows, watching him give his all to the crowd of people that came just to see him and his friends.

as the group left the stage you sent a text to kazuha, walking away from the crowd and to the meeting spot he had told you about. it wasn’t like you didn’t already know where they were going, they always went to the same bar after every performance.

pushing open the grimy doors to the bar, you could see his back as you walked in. scaramouche was sitting at a table with his friends, drink in hand already as you walked up to them. you pulled out a seat next to scaramouche, crossing your arms over your chest as the guys looked at you excitedly, scaramouche not sharing the same sentiment.

“hey guys, long time no see.” heizou laughed loudly, patting scaramouche on his shoulder as they left the table. now it was just you and scaramouche.

he held this look of shock on his face, like he’d seen a ghost. his mouth slightly opening and closing, almost like a fish.

“hey.” you said softly, putting your hand on his arm. “are you real?” he asked you, now looking directly at you rather than trying not to meeting your gaze.

“of course i am, what do you mean by that? have you been dreaming about me too?” you ask, half joking but half serious as he had been plaguing your dreams for the past few months.

“don’t say things like that (y/n)..” he spoke quietly, taking a sip of his beer. you nod silently, watching him take a sip of his drink.

“i know, this is kind of weird. especially since i’m the one that left you but, it’s been haunting me. and i just want to talk.” you admit to him, looking down at your hands. suddenly your nails seemed much more interesting than to look at him.

“yeah, i think we’re due for that.” he said before sliding his drink over, taking your hands in his without warning. “look, (y/n). i know that back then i wasn’t great to you, far from it actually. i’ve thought about what you said to me that night ever since. i’m not asking for your forgiveness, nor am i asking you to get back together with me. but i just want you to know that i’m sorry. i regret wasting us, wasting what we had. i do love being an idol, but it doesn’t give me the same satisfaction as i got when i was with you.”

you nodded silently at his words, looping your arms around his neck as you hugged him. the words you had longed to hear were now finally being said. “that’s all i wanted.” you spoke quietly in his ear, your voice cracking with tears. “i just wanted that from you scara.”

you wiped your tears away as you pulled back, taking one of his hands in both of yours. “i want to be in your life again, not as lovers, not yet. but as friends. i’ve missed you all this time.” scaramouche nodded, taking his free hand and placing it on top of yours. “i can work with that.”

what you both didn’t see were the rest of the boys from 4nemo watching the scene unfold from the bar window. heizou’s loud cheering being shushed by xiao as both of your heads whipped to the window, red covering your faces in embarrassment.

taglist: @lemons4u @foxkunwoof @s-h-i-r-o-8-1 @felixilations @kaxukaxu @angelofdarkness2 @trxshhsstufftatsumimiko @ycugtf @nervouseaglelover @whorerificstuff @samarill

[orikiys]

✿ ✿ 〞 comparing you to their ex

✰ pairings: ot8 skz x fem!reader

✰ genre: romance, lots of angst

✰ warnings: cussing, skz mentioning reader’s insecurities, skz being red flags, slight mentions of manipulative behaviour, hints at cheating but no cheating, mentions of breaking up ( ikk it’s a lot because i just can’t fathom the fact that it’s been nearly 3 months since i last wrote angst )

✰ word count: 2.6k+ words i will better myself

౨₊ৎ chan

“i don’t get you these days,” you scoff over the call as you remind yourself of the main reason why you even bothered in the first place to get him a tub of ice cream in hopes that when he arrives back home he can rest and dig in.

“there’s nothing to understand babe. i told you that i can’t come home today,” the words slip out of his mouth without hesitation and the tone so casual that it makes you stare at his caller id in disbelief.

“i thought you were in the car on your way home?” you mutter nervously.

“i lied. i didn’t want to worry you plus there’s too much work baby. can you please try and understand that, hmm?”

“this won’t work on me. you lied chan! why would you lie? you could’ve just told me and i wouldn’t have wasted my time setting the couch and deciding on movies and buying you ice creams!” you sigh deeply.

“see? this is why i lied. because i knew you would scream at me when it isn’t even my fault,” you remain silent after hearing his words and there’s still evident clicking of keyboard from the other side.

“why are you trying to put the blame on me? chan it’s fucking 2 am and this is not the first time i had to stay up waiting for you to get back just for you to not come home!”

“who told you to wait? sleep for all i care! at least my ex didn’t bother me like this,” he mumbles but it’s hard not to hear him when your ears are just waiting for any sort of apology, instead they are welcomed with this.

“wow, thank you for telling me your true feelings. make sure you go back to her,” there is sarcasm in your words, but it’s only meant to hide the real fact of how bad it hurt you and maybe he knows it or maybe he doesn’t.

“baby i–” you end the call and before you know it, the tears start to flow down your cheeks.

just when did things go so wrong?

౨₊ৎ minho

he knew how easy it was for you to be overwhelmed. it was unfortunately not that easy to comfort you since nothing would make you feel better. but minho was there. always. he would sit beside you for hours and talk endlessly until a word that escaped his mouth would lift the corner of your lips.

it always felt so much better when you had someone helping you deal with your problems. it reassured you that someone truly did have your back. you couldn’t be any more thankful for having met lee minho.

it had been a few hours since you had locked yourself in your room, call it childish but being alone helped you gather your thoughts. while you sat on the floor with your head in your hands, minho kept banging on the door impatiently.

“open the door! stop being so immature and just open the door!” he yells as he starts to bang harder making you flinch at the action. with a defeated sigh, you get up and unlock the door before coming face-to-face with a flush faced sweaty minho. he stares at you angrily and grabs your wrist a bit too tightly before doing a quick scan of your body for any signs of injuries.

“do you even know how worried i was? gosh how can you even be so careless? i don’t think that i’ve ever seen my ex act that way,” the last part of the sentence is quieter as he trails off when the realisation strikes him.

“say that again,” you say, as if daring him to repeat his words. he looks away before muttering.

“i’ve heated up food for you, go eat it.”

“stop trying to change the topic! i heard you mention her loud and clear,” he groans at your words and looks back at you.

“so what if you heard me? i didn’t mean it and you know it,” he mutters and tries to grab a hold of your hand but you slap his hand before it can touch yours.

“i don’t think so i know it anymore minho. where is the guy i fell in love with? he would think at least a thousand times before saying something as hurtful as this,” you chuckle bitterly and walk past him.

maybe eternally was just a word meant for the world of fiction.

౨₊ৎ changbin

as soon as changbin’s feet crossed the line of the entrance to the apartment, his brows furrowed upon witnessing the messiest house. the smell of stale vegetables made him scrunch his nose in disgust and he covered his mouth with his hand before trying to search for you.

there you were, scrubbing the glass table vigorously and he sighed, “seriously?”

“what?” you look up at him in confusion making him look away.

taking a deep breath he looks back at you, “can i not expect the house to be in safe hands for even a day?”

“binnie it’s not like that i just—“

“i don’t want to hear your excuses anymore! we divided the chores equally then why don’t you do your part properly? i wish my ex had been here,” he spats and before you know it he bumps his shoulder against yours before walking away. not one ounce of regret.

all you wish was to turn back the time.

౨₊ৎ hyunjin

“you’re being dramatic hyunjin. i’ll be fine, besides i have my friends with me,” you try to reassure him but he wouldn’t budge even an inch from his firm decision.

“ the one who flirts with you? that friend?” he scoffs as if you just said something ridiculous.

this wasn’t the first time where hyunjin acted as if his words were meant to be obeyed. but he did very much mind the fact that you trusted some guy over him. no matter how hard you explain, he just finds one or the other way to insult your friend.

“don’t say that! you don’t know him that’s why you say it.”

“ i don’t care! i have no interest in knowing anything about him. don’t you think you’re being a little too carefree around him? i know guys like him pretty well,” he mutters while glancing up at you.

“stop behaving like you know everything!” you yell and glare at him. the remaining patience left in you had all reached the saturation point.

“stop being so damn adamant! that guy is no good! he’s trying to steer us away, if my ex was here she’d choose me over him,” he confesses and you can feel your heart drop and that feeling of suffocation begins to engulf you.

“right now i’d choose him rather than choosing you,” you spat and look away without letting him speak any other word.

perhaps even love marriage no longer reminded you of the good choices.

౨₊ৎ han

“do you think any girlfriend would trust their boyfriend around his ex?” you spoke as you followed him around the apartment as he picked up his things and placed them in his backpack.

“i think yes,” he mutters and glances at you for a second before looking away.

“well i don’t! she’s a manipulator jisung, listen to me! stop believing her lies!” you plead trying to remind him how bad she was.

“babe, you’re clearly exaggerating the situation! she’s just my client and i have to attend to her for today,” he sighs exasperated and rubs his temples in frustration.

“jisung… look i know it’s for your work but tell me how and when did she become your client? because for as long as i know your ex used to be a hairstylist,” you try to convince him to believe you but he does not even give you a glance.

he just sits on the couch with his legs crossed and his left arm rubbing his temples, his eyes are shut and his face is lowered, so you can’t predict what he’s thinking right now.

“babe, she’s my client, that's all i know and all i care. if she wasn’t my ex i’m sure she wouldn’t be that insecure in this situation,” he snapped, annoyance written bold on his forehead as he stared at you. all you could do was bite your lower lip and try not to give in to your mind telling you to cry. you couldn’t be any weaker, could you? you shouldn’t cry on these small things, you try to convince yourself but the way his expression does not falter makes your heart ache a little more.

“wow jisung, you’re so cool for using my weaknesses against me,” you mumble and stare at him blankly. your sentence was formed as if it were a joke, but there wasn’t any smile on your face. he looked up at you expectantly, that you were finally going to let him go.

so you did.

you let him go for good.

౨₊ৎ felix

“why are you doing this?” you sigh as you watch him browse through his wardrobe.

“you’re guilty and you have no right to say that,” he scoffs and continues to search for something particular in his wardrobe.

“where’s my brown hoodie?” he questions, turning around to look at you expectantly. his eyebrows are raised and there’s not the familiar expression of playfulness in his eyes anymore.

you gulp and lean against the wall, trying not to portray that the situation was that serious, “i don’t know,” you shrug and look down at your nails.

“you don’t… know? are you being for real right now?” he snaps and your gaze switches to him.

“stop yelling, i’m standing right in front of you,” you warn him with a defiant look in your eyes.

“fine, sorry. will you please tell me where all my hoodies are?”

“they’re in my wardrobe,” you mumble and watch as his gaze hardens back again, which makes you internally groan. just why were the two of you fighting over this stupid matter?

“babe please! i’ve told you a hundred times that the brown one was my favourite and i don’t like anyone wearing it. if my ex was here she wouldn’t have done this,” he ran a hand through his hair growing frustrated that you both didn’t understand each other.

“look it’s just that i don’t like it when someone does what i clearly told them not to,” he sighs and presses his face in his hands and lets out a muffled groan.

a minute of silence was all that was heard before you took your cue to speak, “it’s just a hoodie lixie, you didn’t have to take it this far,’’ the tears came as quickly as they fell. you had grabbed your coat and bag, heading for the door. you didn't think anything else could hurt you. but you were wrong.

he just stared down at the floor unmoving, he had no clue what to do anymore. all the time he spent courting you, all the flowers he brought you, were they nothing?

౨₊ৎ seungmin

“um, miss? the restaurant will be closing soon, we’re so sorry. would you like us to book you a cab?” you glance up at the waiter and shook your head with a tight smile on your face before heading out.

the night was surely chilly, but you didn’t care. at least not when you dolled up just for kim seungmin to not show up. it was supposed to be a dinner date with just the two of you as it was your third anniversary. three years of the two of you dating. three beautiful years… coming to an end?

you were tired. tired of constantly checking on seungmin just for him to hand up on you. tired of constantly worrying when he’ll come home just for him to say sorry everyday. tired of being played by his lies and broken promises. you were extremely tired and torn apart.

“babe-!” seungmin panted as he jogged up to you, the sight breaking your heart even more. it would’ve been better if he didn’t come looking for you. maybe then your heart wouldn’t hurt to say no to him next time.

“i’m sorry! i came here as soon as i got done,” he huffed and you threw him a quick glance. judging from the way he is breathing heavily he really did.

“clearly,” you mumble and look away, not giving in to him this time.

“baby, my boss held me back. you know how he acts during the end of the month, right?”

“no i don’t. and seungmin stop making excuses. if you wanted to, you could’ve told him or at least informed me? i was sitting in the restaurant for 3 hours looking like a total joke! do you enjoy this? enjoy making me suffer?” you yell and shrug his hand that was on your shoulder.

“don’t be like that, come on. i said i’m sorry. forgive me please?” he mutters and smiles a bit, in hopes you would say yes.

“i’m done with this,” you retort and begin to walk away but halt upon hearing him.

“dammit! i’m a grown ass man and i have a job that pays me! the same job that lets us eat! it’s just one date we can reschedule it next month as well! why do you have to be so stubborn all times? my ex would have more understanding in this situation,” he scoffs and you turn your head to stare at him with bloodshot red eyes.

“why did you have to make me fall in love with you?”

౨₊ৎ jeongin

there’s a soft smile plastered on your face as you knock on the door to jeongin’s dorm along with his members. the two of you had been dating for just over a year now and things were going pretty smoothly.

the door opens and you’re welcomed by felix’s wide grin as he pulls you in, “hey! you’re here!” you nod and give into his enthusiasm before looking around.

“jeongin’s inside,” felix chuckles when he notices you glance around the house, “what are you waiting for? you can go,” you smile sheepishly at his words and glance at the small bag food that you held in your hands before knocking on his door.

jeongin opens the door and you smile up at him but your smile falters when there’s no signs of happiness in his eyes. he just looks tired.

“why are you here?” he questions with eyebrows furrowed as he glances at the box in your hand and then back to you.

“i thought since you didn’t have lunch maybe we can have it together,” you mutter and lift the bag and show it to him but all he does is look at it blankly before scoffing.

“i told you i wanted to be alone!” he whisper yells and glances around the house. with a reluctant sigh he pulls you in the room and closes the door.

“jeongin… i wanted to be there for you baby,” you mumble and still try to muster a smile.

“well i didn’t want that! do you ever listen to anyone except you? i see you everyday! every single day! what else do you want from me? can’t i spend a day without you clinging around? i wish i never broke up with my ex,” he glares accusingly at you and you clutch the bag in your hands tighter as if it would decrease the pain.

“thanks for telling me i guess. at least i’ll know now whether you were faking it or not,” you head for the door before he can say anything.

“i’m sorry–” his words are cut when you leave the room and fling the door close in anger.

[trulyumai]

Oh, Mr. Mosses (Series) III

Synopsis: You were fine with the job, the steps were easy enough but the secret  of the D.D.D was getting harder and harder to contain. Each night a new entity would enter the building, each with its own horrific look and intentions. Just as you debate on leaving, a new resident has entered the premises; Francis Mosses who is absolutely entranced by your being.

Will you be as smitten of him as he is of you? Only time will tell.

Taglist: @tfamidoingwithmylife @mariaflor873 @fandomfeind @greycloudsy (Let me know if you want to be added!)

Warnings: Blood, Violence, Death

Oh, Mr. Mosses III

He shook under her touch. She lightly padded her fingers across his chest, going lower until they were right above his trousers. “You're so cute, Francis.” She mumbled, fumbling her hands with his belt, moving his undergarments lower and lower. He puffed, ignoring the comment, he could feel his face getting warm again. Lowering his hands, they met the underside of her thighs, so plush, so very soft. 

“Please- ah! Please sweetheart,” He whispered, staring up at her lovingly. And although it came out as a beg, he began moving her clothes away himself, not waiting for an answer. 

“Ah, ah, ah, patience darling.” She tutted, skirting his hands back to where they once were, each on one either side of her hips.

He groaned, letting his hands reside there as the warmth in his chest got unbearable. She was gorgeous, the moonlight peaked in behind his window, falling down and mirroring her gorgeous image. She was like an old painting, sitting there staring down at him. A nymph, a goddess. 

And if it wasn't for the incessant beeping, he could have came right then and there just staring up at her. Those eyes, that slender neck, her chest-

Jolting upright he cursed. So fucking close, yet so far. With a sigh he leaned his legs over to the side of his bed. Covered in sweat he grimaced, ever since his meeting with the darling receptionist he's had these dreams, visions. He'd wake up in the same state; desperate, sweaty and needy. And oh so close to release. 

With his elbows on his knees he sighed once more while looking at the clock, just beside his bedside. The red numbers mocked him and read out 4:30AM. 

Today was going to be a long day. 

“The reports my dear, were utterly ruined I tell you! Such an incompetent assistant I have, truly.” Mr. Gauss was a loud man, too loud for the poor receptionist to handle at the moment. He spoke of his job, his reports almost every meeting they would be unfortunate to have. With a sigh she handed his papers once more, yet it went unnoticed as he rambled on about his assistant. The poor lady who had spilled coffee over his reports this morning. 

“Mr. Gauss,” She shook the ID in her hands once more, in case this time he would notice. He didn't. 

“I'll tell you, the job couldn't be easier I mean, you should know shouldn't you darling? It's just a simple desk job!” 

“Mr Gauss!” With a firm tone she pursed her lips, finally getting the older man's attention. 

“Your papers, sir.” 

“Oh how silly of me, thank you sweetheart! Listen, I'm getting a call but I'll see you soon my dear!” With a wink he was off, his attention already diverting to the phone that he pulled from his gray and black suit pocket. 

Groaning, she slouched back down on her chair. Easy, she wished it was as simple as he made it. With no screaming residents, bloody faces and hands being slammed in her direction. Just the other day a mimic cried to her, screaming she was a murderer. It begged to be let in. “I'll die out there, please you don't understand!” Its tone was racked with fear, it shook with plenty of emotion and if it wasn't covered in someone's blood, she might have thought to let it inside. It went out with a fight too, one of the guards bodies had to be dragged out, their yellow hazmat suit stained in maroon. Everytime she blinked she could see his body, crumpled up in the corner of the lobby, limbs hanging limply at their sides, mask torn.

It was getting late, and soon she could go home, take a nice bath, forget about the color red for a while. 

“Excuse me,”

“SHIT!” She jumped, not noticing the man standing just in front of the window. Holding her chest she cried out. 

“Francis, jesus christ you startled me,” 

With a light frown he reached out, letting his palm splay over the clear glass. “I'm sorry, sweetheart, are you okay?” Sweetheart? That was new, she thought, calming her chest as quickly as she could. 

“It's okay I was just- I zoned out it seems,” she smiled, it was light, a comfort to the man in front of her. 

With a small smile of his own he grabbed his forms, sliding them through the slot per usual. 

“You're early, no one wanted any milk today?” She blinked up at him, grabbing the forms while staring blatantly at the taller man. His uniform was normal, the hat laid atop his black hair and his eyes were as tired as ever. 

“You could say that,” The milkman mumbled, leaning comfortably over the counter, looking down at her as she compared the forms. 

She began reading his ID, slowly as practiced, mouthing each number as she went. 

235569-

“Hey.” Looking up she noticed how close the man got, closer than ever before. His face was practically touching the glass. 

“Hi?” She looked at him confusedly, tilting her head to the side unconsciously. 

“I'm free now. For the coffee?��� 

That's right! The date, she had nearly forgotten after the day she had. It slipped her mind, she would have worn something cuter, more revealing than this old sweater she's had stuffed in her closet. It was cold today, lightly sprinkling with rain from time to time so she grabbed the next best thing to keep her warm, not even thinking she would see Francis today. 

“Oh! Um, yeah I have some back here if you'd like?” Skipping over the numbers she started comparing them.

23556941989-

BANG. 

Francis hand made contact with the glass, his pale fingers flexed as they made contact, nails digging lightly into the material.

Noticing her hesitancy he laughed. “There was a bug, didn't mean to startle you. Again.” 

Where was she again? At nine? No, perhaps the eight.

“Everything looks in order,” she mumbled, slowly glancing back up at the milkman. Smiling, she slid the papers to the side, fumbling for the keys around her pocket. 

“One moment and i'll open the door okay?” 

Francis said nothing but nodded, flexing his hands as she made her way towards the wooden door just to his left. With a click the door was open, Francis was already on the other side by the time it unlatched. Maybe he was just eager, she thought. That would be cute, no man had been eager to see her before, so the newfound feeling was exhilarating. 

Standing aside she gestured him in. My was he much taller face to face, she only came up to his shoulders, if that. He stepped in, walking just past her towards the room on the side, where the little kitchen resided. 

Closing the door she followed, humming a little tune as she grabbed coffee cups just past him. “How do you like your- oof!” Turning to talk to the man she was met with his chest, when had me moved so close? 

“I'll get that, sweetheart,” He mumbled lowly, his voice just barely above a whisper. So quite, so low. 

“Oh, um, okay” Without thinking she passed him the mugs, not even realizing she forgot to tell him her coffee preference before walking towards the door once more, to the front desk. 

“I'm gonna make sure no one needs any help, I'll be right back!”

With a hum, the man got to work on the drinks, it was only then she noticed his hands. Veiner than normal, his nails were a little longer too, had they always been so sharp? 

Turning her head she padded her way to the desk, to the forms residing on her desk. 

Francis form stared back at her, along with his ID. Dusting her fingers over the numbers she read again.

235569418995

Now the other one 

235569418895

No, she had to be mistaken. Reading it again, and again, the paper was starting to crumple with the amount of force she exerted from her fingers. 

The numbers, she noticed, the numbers, there off by one number. How did she miss it?! Biting her lip she looked back towards the kitchen. The room had gone silent, she prayed she still had time. The D.D.D had to act fast, she still could live, it couldn't be too late. Glancing back in front of her she reached out, just before her hand met with the phone she felt it. 

The pressure of someone standing behind her. 

A breath on her neck.

Light nails digging into the side of her hips. 

“Don't spoil the mood, pretty girl,” Francis sneered. 

“Our night has just begun after all.”

She couldn't help but shake, she didn't want to die, this creature whatever it was wasn't prone to showing mercy. Any kindness whatsoever. 

“Your coffee will get cold,” He teased, lightly reaching his hand up, playing with the hair around her face before displaying itself on her cheeks, tightly grabbing them until her lips protruded with the pressure. 

“Such a daft little thing,” He tutted.

“Cute, but oh, so daft.”

Squeezing her eyes shut, she felt tears spring loose, dribbling down her cheeks until they made contact with Francis' hand. 

He laughed, a deep somber one before he craned his neck down, licking the salty liquid from her face. His slimy tongue stopped just before her eye, where she finally opened it to see him smiling at her. 

His teeth. Jesus Christ they were so sharp. All of them pointy and white, each one more jagged than the other. 

“I'm tempted to keep you, you’d be a good little listener wouldn't you?” With a mocking tone he squeezed her cheeks harder, until little red crescents were indented on her face. 

"You're so good for me, so obedient." He moaned, rubbing his other hand around her body, going lower, and lower.

“Ah-!”

“Quiet!” He seethed, glancing now to the front desk. The window. It was then she noticed, a silhouette peering over the desk. A resident waiting to be checked in. 

“Please,” She begged, more tears streamed down her soft face.

“Don't hurt me.” 

Looking back over his squinted eyes, his pupils were dilated and his mouth slightly open and set in a frown.

“What the fuck did I say-

“Hello?” A masculine voice rang out. Francis. With widened eyes she gripped the hand covering her mouth, felt the roughness of the hand and shook. 

The other Francis heaved, with anger he gripped the receptionist's face once more. Hands bloody he slid his thumb over her lips, lightly parting it and pushing the digit forward.

The taste of iron invaded her senses, wincing she tried to pull back but was only met with resistance. 

“I'll be back, sweet thing.” He promised, pulling his finger back he looked at it with wild eyes. Putting it up to his own lips before sucking them clean. 

“You be a good girl, you here?” He laughed, lightly smacking her cheek before entering the back. Towards the kitchen.

Without thought she ran to the desk, meeting the eyes of Francis, the real Francis. 

Noticing her wide eyes and bloody mouth he looked with concern, eyebrows leaving a frown mark on his face.

“Are you alright?”

She wanted comfort, wanted help. With a light shake to her fingers she took his ID, not bothering to compare the numbers. 

The rules. If she uddered anything about the mimics, the D.D.D, she would face even more backlash than she faced now. How was she supposed to bring this up to management, let alone Francis. 

Gathering her thoughts she passed the ID back through. Putting on her best face she smiled at him, though it looked more like a grimace. 

“Yes, just… A long day. You're free to pass,” With a touch of a button the elevator was left open. 

Francis eyed her once more. 

“Mmh, okay. You can call me if you need anything. I'm just a floor away.” Grabbing his ID he shifted uncomfortably. His tongue felt heavy and the words he wanted to say seemed to get stuck on the top of his mouth. With a tired gaze and small wave, the receptionist moved out of his sight and he couldn't help but feel disappointed.

Maybe he'll ask for a coffee next time.

[sickeninglyshoujo]

God you’re gonna hate me for this thought but after reading dad!simon all I kept thinking was

What if the daughter did die? Like id imagine reader being fuckin PISSED and kinda being closed off with Simon cus she didn’t want her daughter being in the army and Simon wasn’t hearing her concerns

oh

oh i do hate you

but i had to write it

teared up twice writing it and said i cant cry tonight about this

part 1 - dad!simon

word count: 750

warnings: death, grief

buy me a ko-fi

They brought your daughter home in a plain pine box.

They wouldn’t let you see her no matter how you wept and tore at the lid that had been nailed tightly shut.

“Just let me see my baby, I need to make sure it’s her…Let me see her just once please…” You cried to her C.O. The man gave a pained look above your shoulder at your husband, ever your shadow, who took his silent plea and wrapped his hands around your shoulders and pulled you into his chest.

He didn’t know you could scream like that.

The days immediately after the funeral are the worst. You sit in the kitchen chair where you woodenly placed yourself after returning from the graveyard. Your eyes stare into the air in the space in front of you, unfocused and unseeing.

The kitchen hurts the most.

This was where you had so many family dinners, first with your messy baby in her high chair, a headstrong toddler demanding her own utensils, a gap-toothed child rolling her eyes at her parent’s sneaking kisses over lasagna, a moody pre-teen who insisted that she be allowed to go to base with Simon, a teenager too pretty for her own good asking her father about his time spent in the field.

You knew it was a matter of time. She took after her father more than you. When you argued with her, it was like staring into your husband’s face. Quiet determination and a total lack of regard for anything except their motives.

At 18, she enlisted. She laughed at your worried frown as her father clapped her on the back and shook her hand, “Welcome, Recruit.”

Her training with the SAS was supplemented by her father, making her truly a force to be reckoned with when put against her fellow recruits. She began bragging to you on her phone calls home, telling you all about how she planted the men flat on their asses in sparring!

Then she was no longer a recruit, but a fully enlisted member being sent onto missions with real gunfire and real danger.

You had never been one quick to prayer, even when Simon was in the service but that changed when your daughter started getting sent all over the globe in order to serve her country, until she makes one final journey home.

Simon stops eating at the table. He can’t bear to watch you sit there, eyes staring into nothing. Any words his mouth could form wouldn’t fix this. How he groomed your daughter for military duty from the cradle. Which of those trips to base was the one that had lit the spark that destined her for service? Was it one too many war stories told to her in the cradle when he was explaining where he had been? Why he hadn’t heard her first words, but that he was here now and ready to hear her talk his ear off.

You start to slowly leave the kitchen table: Perching yourself on the sofa in the living room, watching the corner she usually sat in.

Simon stops sitting in his recliner, opting instead for his office. He can’t watch you stare at the empty seat even if he had been doing the same.

It comes to a head nearly a month after her burial.

“Why can’t you look at me Simon!”

His head whips around, you hadn’t spoken much for weeks and now you were yelling at him, just this side of hysteria.

“I lost my daughter and now my husband can’t even look at me! I’m hurting Simon! I never wanted her to enlist, but you had to play war hero! You always had to be her hero and now she’s gone Si! She’s gone and I’m losing you at the same time!” Your tears are overflowing now, you’re swiping at your eyes and trying to not let them travel down your cheeks in a losing battle.

Simon’s mouth is agape, “Dove, I-”

“Don’t ‘Dove’ me! You haven’t talked to me Simon! You haven’t held me! You haven’t tried to tell me it’ll be ok and that we’ll get through this! We haven’t even slept in the same fucking bed together Simon!”

He had hoped you wouldn’t notice how he had opted for the uncomfortable loveseat hidden in his office. He had hoped you were too lost in your thoughts and grief to notice.

“Simon I can’t do this with you if you won’t help me. I need a break. I’m living with two ghosts now.”

[chrissv4mp]

WHY AREN'T YOU HOME?

NAVIGATION — SERIES MASTERLIST

● — The cool air of the night hit you just perfectly, the heat from the party you had just stepped away from almost completely gone now. You don't even know why you agreed to attend this party. It was just some stupid event for people with over 1M followers on Instagram. Your friends were the ones who convinced you, and you really wish they hadn't.

Your manager said it was good for you as well, and what else were you supposed to say? You weren't really the best at saying no to people, either. So, you had no choice other than to come.

As you sit down on the side of the sidewalk, you rest your chin on your palm, staring out into the empty backlot of the building, eyes darting all across the parking lot until all you can see is darkness. Your phone buzzes repeatedly in your other hand, signaling that a call was coming through, but you couldn't care less.

It was probably just more scam callers trying to sell you some fake product, but as you decline the call, you realize it's not the same number. Your phone buzzes again, "No Caller ID." Flashing at the top of your screen in bold letters. Who else would call you at 10 pm?

Your thumb presses down on the answer button, sliding it to the right and watching as the call duration begins to rise slowly. You move the phone up to your ear, lips parting to speak but not getting any words out before the person on the other line goes first, "Why aren't you home, Y/N?"

It almost feels like your heart stops once you hear those words. You take a deep breath, trying to find an excuse. Maybe it was a fan who just... possibly happened to guess your number? Fuck.

"You got the wrong number, sir." You mutter nervously, but as you hear a chuckle on the other line, it finally sinks in. How could you forget?

"Dont'cha think I'd remember your number after all these calls, sweetheart?" He says, his tone playful. You hated how he was always able to play with you, "Now, answer my question, Y/N. Why. Aren't. You. Home?"

You let out a shaky breath as you stand up, head turning to look at your surroundings as you move to the backdoor of the building, "How do you I'm not?"

The man just scoffs, and you flinch at the loud shatter of glass you hear from the other side of the phone. His tone is more stern this time, almost growling into your ear, "Because I'm at your fuckin' house. Don't play these games, Y/N, you know better.

"Stop calling me!" You retort, breath catching in your throat as you realize the door had locked behind you when you came outside, "Shit." You whisper.

"Block my number." He replies quickly, giggling as he hears your frustrated sigh, "Awh, wait—You can't. 'M'Just gonna change my number, maybe get a new phone...?" He trails off.

You can practically hear the stupid, cocky smile on his face even through the phone, and it makes you wanna throw the device onto the hard pavement beneath your feet, "Fuck off."

As you move the phone away from your ear and hover your thumb over the bright red button to end the call, you hear a loud, booming voice scream at you from the other line, "DON'T HANG UP, Y/N."

Shivers are sent down your spine at his authority, but you still disobey him. You swiftly end the call and then quickly run towards the alley that leads to the front. No thoughts run through your mind except him. Where was he? Your house wasn't that far. Was he here?

As you turn to round the corner towards the front, you feel a pair of hands grab at your waist and roughly pull you down onto their body. You both fall backward, his body acting as a pillow and lessening the impact of your fall.

Before you can scream, his slaps a hand over your mouth, his other hand on your waist in an attempt to get you to stop squirming, "Don't wanna hurt you, mamas, just—Fuck—Close those pretty lips for me."

You only continue to struggle against him, punching all over his body to try and get him to let you go. He doesn't, and it's only when you turn your head that you can see his face. His eyes are wild, and his lips are full, parted so as to let out heavy breaths.

"Hey, you."

@jetaimevous @livialifesblog @watercolorskyy @blahbel668 @her-favorite @wiidfi0wer33 @loving1dsworld @fallingforfallthings @ncm9696 @hrtsdollie @snowysosturn @1800-love-me @ladyy-whistle-d0wn @ginswife @spideylovin @dej4vhs @strnlxlqve @joemamaaa42069 @fratbrochrisgf @slut4chriss @h3arts4harry @str4wberryk1sses @riasturns @nwlluvsturnsstars17 @asimp4chris @byneptunee @ilove2021chris @freshloveforthefit @sturniologals @ifwdominicfike @sturnsdoll @3lizaluvs @matt444nixi @nikki-starx @notmylaa11 @fionaheartswomen @sturni0l0 @sturniolofannnlmao @demzzz @n3-vaeh @melanch0lybby @viiiwwwee @johnniesverr @kaisturni @chrissfawn @obsessedwurex @flower-sturns @styrnioloss @oliviasturniolo21 @lucysturniolo

[ch-4-eri]

id like to make a request but i need to do it like im in a drive thru.

let me get uhhhhh yeah let me get some birthday sex with claire redfield because its almost my birthday

please and thank you

Cake — Claire Redfield.

happy early birthday anon! 💋 do please enjoy this ;)

smut under the cut.

“how does my birthday girl wanna get fucked huh?” Claire panted as she pounded you into the mattress, her tits bouncing in your face as she thrusted her strap deep inside of you.

your legs were fully open for her, wrapping them around her hips and caging her so she stays buried in your bundle of heaven. you couldn’t respond, too lost in the feeling to say anything other than the pretty sounds you’re making while your pussy squelched.

you fucked yourself into her strap, grabbing claire’s hips and fucking her body into yours as she grabbed your wrists and pinned them on the bed, her thrusts going faster and deeper as you let out a pathetic whine.

your make up was perfectly smudged, glittery eyelids shining through the dim lights in the bedroom, claire’s hands grabbed your tits and gave them a squeeze, her cock abusing your cervix, teasing that spot that had you seeing stars, sticking your tongue out on a whim, making claire lean forward and suck on it, her tongue flicking against yours before she grabbed your chin and spat in your mouth. “drink up.” she says as you quickly swallowed her saliva.

she spat on your pussy as well, making you even wetter as she continues to slam inside of you, you went limp as she fucked you deeper enough you came undone and let out a suppressed scream, your hips writhing and squirming.

“happy birthday baby..” she smirks, her tone low and sultry. “such a beautiful little thing.” she says, kissing the corner of your mouth before she slowly pulls out, your pussy pulsating with need. “shh..” Claire cooed as she watched you chase after her strap.

“such a slut you are, hm?” she asks, teasing your entrance with her cock, making you rock your hips against it. “you’re so wet.” she chuckled breathlessly, her red hair falling over your eyes before she lifted her head up, sitting up slowly and took off her strap.

“hm baby what a mess i’ve made you look.” she says, squeezing your tits gently as she sat you up, getting out of the bedroom as you were still leaking on the mattress.

you closed your legs as Claire came back with the cake you both had earlier.

“you feeling good?” Claire asked, grabbing a spoonful of cake and holding it up to your lips as you opened your mouth to eat the sweet treat.

“just a little sensitive.” you smiled, chewing on the creamy cake. claire leaned in and licked the frosting off your lips as you stuck your tongue out, causing claire to join your lips into a make out session with the cake in your mouth.

it was absolutely messy and lewd, Claire would feed you the cake just to eat it out of your mouth in a heated kiss. grabbing and holding each other, the frosting on her tongue tasted like heaven, the strawberry pieces matched how sweet she was, her lips were soft and sensual as she kissed the frosting on your tongue. your moans and your breathing the only thing that echoed in the bedroom, this is the best birthday you’ve ever had, just eating cake out of your beautiful girlfriend’s mouth was enough of a blessing.

[inoreuct]

zosan with abba's super trouper.

is this essentially a pop star au? yes. bear with me anyway.

so the entire vinsmoke family are pop stars and they're perfect in the public eye but actually toxic as HELL, and sanji's sick and tired of it— so he breaks away from them and joins another agency, and zoro's assigned as his bodyguard.

they fight SO MUCH at first. i'm talking screaming and yelling and throwing things across the room (mostly sanji) and being stubborn and straight-up refusing to talk after a certain point (also mostly sanji) and then apologising with food and gifts and not words (mostly, well, both of them). they're like flint and steel; putting them together is just asking for trouble, but the years pass, and somehow through the endless bickering they end up best friends. who would've thought? their sharp edges have softened just enough and they're both too old and too tired and too busy to have cold wars anymore. they know more about each other than perhaps anyone else, and they care.

(they're also both in love and refuse to admit it. idiots.)

and then sanji goes on tour, and zoro has to leave for a training refresher course thing, and sanji's MISERABLE. luffy's with him as a bodyguard instead and it's fine, he's great, sanji loves him— just not the way he loves zoro. he feels fucking homesick in a way he never has because he's never really had a proper home and he knows, he knows it's because zoro isn't here with him. sanji turns around to tell him something and is met with empty air. he keeps trying to order double portions of food and booze before he catches himself and maybe he's being dramatic, but it feels like he's missing a fucking limb.

nami, his manager, has to yell at him to stop moping because all he's doing is eating chocolate and binging french soap operas in his hotel room and huddling up in the big leather jacket that zoro left behind. he just wants to get back to his tiny apartment and curl up on his shitty couch to eat pizza and watch Mean Girls for the hundredth time as zoro complains and gets invested in the drama all over again anyway.

he's nearly dead on his feet as finishes yet another exhausting show, trying to take comfort in the fact that it's his second last; his shoes are kicked off to the corner, his makeup barely removed, and just when he's about to turn in for the night his phone rings and when he sees the caller ID he SCRAMBLES to pick up.

"hey," zoro says, low and rumbly and so achingly familiar that sanji doesn't know whether to laugh or cry.

"you have no idea how good it is to hear your voice," he breathes, and he means it. he means it more than he even knew he did and it hits him all at once as soon as the words leave his mouth. he misses his best friend, no matter everything else that zoro is to him.

zoro's chuckle is a balm to his soul. "i'm coming to see you tomorrow."

sanji sits bolt upright from where he'd been laid back against the pillows, eyes going wide. "are you serious?" he can't help the hope and excitement that unspools in his gut, the warm rush in his blood as zoro laughs.

"yeah. i'm done with the course. speedran the fucking thing and scored so well they had no choice but to let me go. couldn't miss the last chance i had to see you on tour, could i?" sanji can hear his grin through the phone. "i'm flying in tomorrow morning."

"i'll come pick you up from the airport."

"like hell you will," zoro retorts immediately. "you have a press conference at ten."

shit, he'd forgotten about that. "how'd you know, huh?" sanji counters, faux-petty and reclining back against his plush bedding. god, if there was one good thing about being on tour, it was the fancy hotels.

"been talking to nami," comes the reply, amused and teasing, and sanji groans. "what's this i hear about you acting like a widowed husband?"

"you fucking wish, you moron," he snaps, curling up on his side and hugging a pillow to his chest. the bed is awfully big and awfully cold.

zoro sighs, and there's the sound of something zipping up briskly. "missed you too, curls. look, listen— i gotta get to the airport. see you tomorrow night?"

"...yeah," sanji says, because there's so much he wants to tell zoro and no idea how. he doesn't know where he'd start. he doesn't even know what he wants to say. "yeah, i'll see you. you'll be in the crowd, right?"

"mhm," zoro confirms, accompanied by what sounds like the chirp of an electronic lock. "you just sit tight, curly. i'm coming home."

they exchange a few more words before the line cuts off, but sanji's mind is stuck on three specific words and the possible space for three more after. i'm coming home. but he isn't home right now; he's in a foreign country, in a bed that isn't his, and zoro's flying to him. this isn't home to either of them. unless... and that silence afterwards, like zoro had wanted to say something that would have fit right in. something that would have been a natural end to that string of syllables.

sanji takes a deep breath and does his best to push all thoughts of i love you, spoken or not, to the back of his mind.

still, he can't help but let it all boost him up like a buoy bobbing merrily on the sea. one call from zoro, one short conversation, and he's fucking effervescent; he wakes up smiling and breezes through the press conference with effortless charm. he's bouncing on the toes of his heeled boots even before he steps onto the stage, thrilled by the thought of zoro being in the audience. thousands of eyes on him, thousands of people screaming his name, and he only cares about one. he takes a deep breath as the lights change and the platform he's on begins to rise, fingers tightening around his mic. it's his last night here. he's doing it all for zoro.

it turns out to be the best performance of his life, if he does say so himself. he powers through the entire two hours with ease and hits every note perfectly. he enjoys himself for the first time in a long time, soaks up the glitter and glamour and blinding lights, lets the atmosphere wrap him up and tousle his hair, and he wonders just how it's possible that one person's presence could change so much.

(he doesn't need to wonder. he already knows.)

when he says his final goodbyes for the night he's breathless, heart pounding, anticipatory. the hands patting at his back in congratulation backstage are superficial compared to who he knows is here, and he spares nami a few seconds for a rare squeeze, pausing for a few more when she whispers i'm proud of you in his ear.

and then sanji sees him, and nothing, nothing else fucking matters.

he sprints forward and they crash together and something slams into place inside of him. zoro sweeps him off his feet, squeezing him tight enough that he laughs, bright and merry and real as they spin around and around and he's so dizzy when he's set back down, light-headed and his heart full. he doesn't care where he is, he's home.

zoro takes his weight as easily as anything, tucking sanji to his chest. "god, fuck, you were amazing up there," he says breathlessly, the words pressed into sanji's bejewelled hair. "you were incredible."

the words rumble through his chest and sanji clings tighter, holding zoro desperately around the waist and taking in deep lungfuls of laundry detergent and the fancy pine-and-sandalwood body wash he'd given zoro for christmas. "you're here."

"'course i am," zoro replies, matter-of-fact. "said i'd be here, so i'm here."

his earrings press against sanji's cheek. "can we go get pizza?" he asks meekly.

zoro's answering laugh pours into the horrible aching pit that's been gnawing away at him, fills it up with liquid sunlight as he answers, "we can do whatever the hell you want."

they get pizza. sanji lets zoro pull him around town swearing at the Google Maps on his phone before he finally takes pity and steers them towards the little pizzeria he'd found when he'd snuck out with luffy on their first night here. the tongue-lashing from nami had been worth it, but even so the experience back then had been dull. muted, at best.

now it's like he's seeing the whole world through a whole different lens; the fluorescent sign in the window beams charmingly as the bell above the door chimes, and sanji doesn't even care about the raised eyebrow zoro gives him when he wiggles into the booth seat with undisguised glee. between them they put away a large four-cheese pizza and a frankly massive slice of apple pie à la mode, and sanji's feeling pleasantly stuffed as he finishes up his vanilla milkshake and successfully fends zoro off from stealing sips when he isn't looking. he has plenty of experience with that, after all.

the walk back is filled with comfortable silence. sanji doesn't need anything else— zoro here with him is more than he could ask for. scary dog privilege aside, the man next to him is sanji's best friend, and he loves zoro more than he can, or will, ever say.

zoro drops him off at his room and hugs him goodnight. sanji strips down, blasts the shower as hot as it can go, and scrubs the gel out of his hair along with any of the remaining dregs of emptiness he resolutely tells himself are not there right down the drain.

it can't stop him from thinking, though. of zoro. of compression shirts and cargo pants and worn black boots. of the nights zoro had taught him self-defense and the time sanji nearly broken his jaw with a roundhouse kick neither of them had known he was capable of; the other had grinned up with him with blood all over his teeth, proud and raring to go, barking again! and sanji had glowed. his mind swims with it all even as he towels off and slips into his silk pyjamas— memories of late-night talks with wine and beer, sometimes tea, quips all around, beds shared back-to-back under unspoken agreements when neither of them wanted to sleep alone.

three knocks sound on his door.

sanji hates the way he rushes to the peephole and yanks it open as soon as he confirms who it is. zoro stands there, one hand on the back of his neck, looking bored yet unsettled in his baggy tee with his damp hair sticking up everywhere. "jetlag?" sanji asks, raising an eyebrow as zoro grunts.

"you could say that."

he steps aside in a silent invitation, and zoro looks around as he goes in. sanji topples onto the bed with a sigh of relief and crawls under the blankets, patting the space beside him as he switches on the television. "mean girls?"

"god, i fucking hate you," zoro groans, but he settles in anyways, and sanji grins triumphantly.

it's still not his apartment or his shitty couch— but zoro's here, so it's the next best thing.

they make it through the movie without incident. zoro parrots the dialogue and cheers when regina gets hit by the bus like he does without fail every time. sanji knees him in the thigh for it with a scowl like he always does and it starts a fierce kicking battle under the sheets that results in zoro dangling half off the mattress and sanji laughing so hard he can't breathe.

when they've mostly calmed down, sanji sighs out one final chuckle and sinks back into the pillows. "think you can fall asleep now?" he murmurs, turning to look at where zoro has his head propped in one hand.

"maybe," the other allows, and sanji swallows before he smiles.

"goodnight, marimo."

"goodnight."

the flick of the light switch feels like finality. in regards to what, sanji doesn't know, but now that they're in the darkness and zoro begins to get comfortable behind him he cannot deny that he wants.

he wants those arms around him. wants to sleep even better than he does when they're back to back, wants to fit within the circle of zoro's embrace like he belongs there. wants to belong there. wants zoro as his best friend and everything more. it manifests as a tight ache in the centre of his chest, a knot around his heart that he knows he cannot untangle by himself. sanji curls up into a ball and hugs a pillow to his chest, biting his lip— because zoro is right next to him instead of thousands of miles away, and he's still untouchable all the same.

he's on the cusp of restless sleep when he feels zoro shift, and he prays that the hitch in his breath is unnoticeable. he forces the rise and fall of his chest to stay even as the blankets are smoothed securely around his shoulders, a callused palm brushing his hair away from his face; a soft kiss is pressed to his forehead, a hand cupping his face tenderly and trailing away with the brush of a thumb over his cheekbone. "sweet dreams, curls," zoro whispers, before light cracks in from the hallway as his room door opens and shuts.

the electronic lock beeps, and sanji's eyes fly open. the white ceiling swims as he stares at it, unseeing, and the sheets on the right side of the bed are still warm. there's an indent where zoro's body was and sanji gasps as he drags himself into it, huddling down and pulling the covers over his head until all he can smell is zoro.

his heart stutters, mind racing, fingers tightening in the plush duvet. he's confused, so confused. hopeful. a little mad, if he's being honest, and his next breath trembles out of his lungs. mostly still confused, though, because what the fuck did that mean?

he'll find out, he swears. he will. he'll storm his way to zoro's room and break the damn door down if he has to. but for now, if he hides for a little while until he stops feeling like he's about to cry—

well, that's a secret for his hotel room to keep.

[topguncortez]

A Force of Nature, An Act of God || Whumptober day 13 - J. Seresin

whumptober masterlist

synopsis: you always said it would take an act of God to take Jake Seresin off this earth. . . maybe you should've kept that thought to yourself

word count: 1.2k

@ailesswhumptober prompt: crushed and grief

warnings: character death, grief, pregnancy, unhealthy coping mechanisms.

There are just some things you should never hear over a phone call. Y/N didn’t know that the simple ring from her best friend would end with her heart quite literally breaking into two. The loud scream that pierced through the office floor sent everyone’s eyes to the closed office door. Her boss ran down the hall and barged into her office, just in time to catch her from hitting the floor. The screams and cries that left her mouth were enough to break everyone’s heart that was listening. 

She cursed him out. She cursed the other driver out. She even cursed God out. Bradley couldn’t bear to hear the anguish of his wingman’s wife over the phone and hung up, knowing that Natasha was on her way to would be on to go retrieve her and bring her to the hospital. 

No one said anything as she walked into the hospital. Everyone and everything was still. No one looked her in the eye either, too heartbroken. She stood tall though, holding her head up, letting everyone see the emptiness behind her eyes. Y/N had to go in and properly ID him. There was something deep down in her heart that hoped they had gotten the wrong person. But Jake Seresin was a hard person to miss. 

His usual tan was gone. His body was pale, almost gray in color. His hair which was once shiny and full of life, hung down and was matted with blood. Small scars littered his face and arms. She cried softly as she ran her hand over his hair. The doctor stood in the corner, looking grimly at the girl as she sobbed over his body. 

They had just started their life. Married a year ago, and expecting their first child, a boy, whom he had been over the moon excited about. She felt as though bricks were now tied to her feet. It took everything in her to not tear the white sheet off of him once the doctor covered his body back up. 

When she walked back out to the waiting room, Bradley engulfed her in his arms, holding her up as her legs were shaking and ready to give out at any moment. It was unclear how she was going to move on.

How does one move on from this? How is one supposed to bury their lover and carry on with their life? 

Y/N thought it would be better if a car came out of nowhere and crushed her too. 

The next week was spent with people infiltrating her home. She was never alone, everyone kept a close eye on her. She felt like she was under a microscope. She spent three days locked in her room, in constant darkness. It took Bradley having to physically remove her from her bed to get her to eat and shower. She was close to her due date, and they knew it was not the time for her to check out. 

Jolene and George handled all the details, not wanting to stress her out. They watched as every day she would come down the stairs, pour herself a mug of tea, and sit at the kitchen table, her back to everyone, staring out the window into nothing. Her heart was broken. 

Before Jake’s death, the house was never quiet. Jake hated silence. But now, you could hear a pin drop from the other room. There was no music playing. No laughter echoing. No conversations to be had. The quiet was loud, and everyone knew it. No one dared to make a sound as they moved around. 

Y/N had blocked out the whole service, not remembering a single part of it. She remembered seeing the beautiful dark wooden casket he was laid in. He was dressed in his dress blues, his medals shining perfectly. She barely remembered getting up to speak in front of the crowd, but she did. The dagger squad gave her praise for how strong she was in speaking. 

She was the last to leave, as she watched the gravediggers lower his casket into the ground, and seal the vault. She stood by and watched as they piled the dirt back on top of the vault. Bradley and Natasha stood by the car, looking anywhere but at the plot their wingman now lay under. They knew they couldn’t leave her there, so they painfully waited for her to say her final goodbye. The drive home was silent, as she looked out the window, mindlessly drawing shapes over her belly and letting tears roll down her cheeks. 

It was three weeks to the day, that her water broke in the middle of the night. She hadn’t been sleeping in her once-shared bed, but for some reason, she decided to that night. She had woken up with a scream, that sent Natasha and Bradley stumbling into her bedroom. Neither one really knew what to do, but quickly calmed her down and got her down to the car. 

She didn’t think she would have the strength to walk back into the hospital. But much like she did three weeks ago, she walked in with her head held high, pain and emptiness in her eyes. The nurses and doctors moved quickly to her and sat her down in a wheelchair. She demanded that the brothers go back with her, and they let them. 

The pain of labor was one of the first things she had felt in so long. She had grown numb to everything around her. But the pain ripping through her body reminded her that she was still alive. Sweat and tears ran down her body as the youngest boy rubbed her back as she was fighting through a contraction. 

“I can’t do this,” She cried out. 

“You have to.” 

“I can’t do this without him!” She yelled. 

She sat on the bed, in the room alone with just a doctor and a nurse. The brothers had been kicked out, her request, as she started to push. She did her best, pushing with as much strength as she could, but her body was just too weak. 

“I can’t.” 

“You have to,” The doctor said, looking up at her, “You have to. You have no choice. Your baby will go into distress and so will you.” 

The door barged open, and she closed her eyes, too weak to put up a fight. She watched as he pushed over to her, and climbed behind her on the bed. 

“Bradley…” She cried, leaning her head back against him. 

“I know,” Bradley soothed her. The nurse handed him a damp rag to wipe her sweat, “I know he would do it if roles were reversed.” 

“I need him,” She whimpered out. 

“I know,” Bradley clenched his jaw, trying to push back his own tears, “I do too. But you also need to bring this healthy boy into the world. For him.” 

She nodded and gripped Bradley’s hands. She took a deep breath and listened as the doctor counted down. On one, she let out a loud scream as she pushed as hard as she could. Bradley whispered encouraging things into her ear as she used whatever strength she had buried within herself to bring the baby into the world. 

When the melodic cry broke through the room, she leaned back against Bradley, completely spent. Bradley smiled, tears down his cheek as the doctor laid the newborn against her chest. She looked up at Bradley, tears in her own eyes. The little baby boy was a carbon copy of his father. 

“We did it, Jake,” Y/N whispered and kissed her son’s forehead.

taglist: @els-marvelvsp @sarahsmi13s @topgun-imagines @cassiemitchell @xoxabs88xox @seitmai @a-reader-and-a-writer @bradleybeachbabe @kmc1989 @senawashere @beautifulandvoid @ohtobeleah @rogersbarnesxx @oatmealisweird @dempy @devil-angel-winchester @gillybear17

[skipper1331]

Sunshine // Rebecka Blomqvist

a/n: based off this request. Enjoy:)

Rebecka didn‘t scream, she just went down.

In the corner of your eye, you saw her collapse to the ground, arm in the air, frantically waving in the sky.

You stopped running towards the opponents goal, you stopped every movement. You ignored the ball that was passed to your feet - Becks was laying on the floor and not getting up. "Rebecka" you breathed out. It was like something in your mind switched, your brain wasn’t working anymore, you ignored everything around you, just started running.

"Becks?" you asked as you sat down on the grass, wiping her hair out of her face. "It hurts" she said, no tears leaving her eyes. The medics were doing their best to examine her knee but it seemed pretty obvious.

The three little letters that every footballer, every coach, every fan - simply everybody hated: ACL.

Your eyes followed the blonde as she was supported by the medics. You had seen people tore their ACL before and it never affected you as much as it did now. This was Becks, the Swedish sunshine.

That day, her brightness and sunshine was robbed.

After the game, you almost sprinted to the physio room but Becks didn‘t want to see anybody. Jule and you stood in front of the room, arguing with the 'bodyguard' who was actually a staff member, to let you in but with no luck, "please respect her wishes" he told you sternly, pointing to the changing room.

While Jule sighed, you huffed before you grumbled angrily, marching to the locker. What the fuck? You had to see Becks! How was she feeling? Did you need to hold her hand - did she need a shoulder to cry on?

-

She went radio silent after that. Your calls went straight to her mailbox, texts were ignored. You didn‘t know how she was feeling nor did any of the girls. The only people who knew something about her condition were the coach, doctors and staff members yet just physically. No one knew how she was mentally.

It wasn‘t until her surgery that she went 'online' again - she arose from the dead.

Becks🌞

surgery went well.

The relief you felt at her text was nothing compared to the moment when her caller id popped up. Immediately, you accepted.

"Rebecka" you whispered, stopping your movement in the kitchen. There was silence on the line, only light breathing could be heard.

"Can you come here?" she asked with a small, timid and tired voice. With no hesitation in your voice, you asked, "where are you?"

Not even half an hour later, you were at the hospital, sitting in Becks room as she slept peacefully. Her blonde hair was splayed across the pillow, her leg prompted up as it was covered in plasters and more.

"Did I fall asleep?" she asked groggily, exhausted eyes looking at you yet a small smile displayed on her lips. She was happy to see you.

"Yeah but that‘s okay" out of reflex, your hand went to the side of her head as your thumb caressed her cheek, "I’ve brought you your favorite candy. Thought it might be better than the hospital food"

Gratitude was written over the swedes face as she looked at you, smiling. "I can leave tomorrow at 12 pm. Please pick me up?" you nodded at her request, the blonde slowly falling into a slumber at the comforting touch of your hand. You continued your actions for a few more minutes to be sure she was deep asleep before you left.

-

Exactly at 12 pm, you picked Becks up, her crutches laying on the backseat as she sat in the 'passenger princess' seat, her phone already connected with the aux.

The two of you hummed or sang to the songs that played, one better than the other.

When you arrived at her home, you jogged around the car, quickly grabbing the crutches as you opened Rebeckas door as well. "Here" you stated, holding out your hands to gently pull her up. Standing in front of you, you handed her the crutches, making sure that you could let go of her waist. Wordlessly, you grabbed her bag as you followed her to the front door.

-

"I hate these stupid things" she groaned as she flopped on the couch, the stupid things crashing on the floor.

Ignoring her complain, you walked in her kitchen, a place you knew well enough as often as Becks had cooked for you and Jule. You filled a glass of water, walking back to Rebecka as you gave it to her before you walked back in the kitchen. Opening the fridge, emptiness stared back at you. You would change that.

"I have to go but I’ll be back" you stated as Becks laid on the couch, eyes focused on the tv.

"Take your spare key"

Not even an hour later, you walked back in her home, hands full with shopping bags, "went grocery shopping" you smiled. The blonde hadn‘t moved an inch - she laid in the same posture as she was when you left.

"What?" propping her body weight on her arms, she stared blankly at you, "why did you do that?"

Sorting the things on her kitchen counter, "don‘t you think I can do it on my own? Do you think just because I’m on crutches I can’t do stuff alone?!" You didn't respond to her negative and irritable energy. She had a free pass due to the recent injury and being released from the hospital just today.

"Just sit down and let me cook for you" you replied instead, as you put the last few groceries in the fridge.

-

You visited the Swede almost everyday. Sometimes before training, sometimes after training. At matchdays, you would visit her after. It became your routine to check on the blonde.

As her rehab started Becks got very annoyed - to a point where she was mad 24/7 because her knee didn‘t work the way it should - the way she wanted it to work.

After her rehab sessions, she was in the worst mood, she was irritable and exhausted, one wrong move and she would blow up. The crutches didn‘t help either, they just reminded her of the miserable state she was in. That she couldn‘t do the thing she loves: play football.

Becks was standing the kitchen, one crutch laying on the floor as the other one supported her weight. She tried to grab something from the top cupboard but just couldn’t reach it which drove her mad. Unfortunately for you, you walked through her apartment door just then. When you saw the blonde balance like that, her leg swinging in all directions, you rushed to her. "Let me help you" you said - wrong move. Very wrong move. As soon as you laid the item she wanted on the counter the girl snapped, throwing insults at you. "Stop! Just fucking stop! You‘re so fucking annoying with your helper syndrome! Cleaning my mess, doing the dishes and my laundry, I’m not 7 anymore!" the Swede spat, steam radiating off her body. You were taken back, offended, maybe even hurt - your only intention was to help her, so she could concentrate on her rehab, so she could be back on the pitch again. She shouldn't worry about her household. Her first priority should be to walk again without crutches and then her household. She should slowly get back to everything. The thing was that you didn’t even mother her, you were a support, nothing more. You cooked with her, did the laundry with her - you carried it into the living room while she would fold it . You did everything with her. Only to get it thrown in your face.

"Okay" you took a step back, creating distance, "I’m sorry"

You left after that, feeling hurt and disrespected.

"Fuck" the Swede cursed as she saw you walking out of her flat. Why did she do that? Angrily, she threw the crutch away, slowly sinking down to the floor. Her back was leant against the counter, face hidden in her hands as the tears started falling. She didn‘t mean to yell at you. She didn‘t mean anything she said. She just felt so helpless.

She was angry at her injury, angry at herself but never at you. She appreciated you so much even if she doesn’t tell you it.

When she thought about what made her happiest, the answer was simple: you. You were the only one who could put a smile on her face.

You were the only one who was allowed to use her apartment the way you wanted - the only one with a spare key.

You were the only one who got to see her so vulnerable and at her weakest. She was still radio silent for everyone else on the team - they only got their information because of you. Except Jule, the blonde would text Jule every now and or call her. Sometimes the Swede was seen in the building, but her team rarely spoke to her and then didn't talk about how she was doing. Her sunshine was gone and it only came back when you were there - you were her personal sunshine.

Later that day, she tried to cook but it was way to annoying to move around the kitchen with crutches and then place the ingredients on the counter without something falling down or herself loosing balance. She ordered some takeout - which was also hard to carry to the kitchen or even the living room as two crutches supported her weight.

The same was the next day with the laundry. She physically couldn’t carry the laundry basket out of the bathroom. So the only solution that came to her mind that didn‘t involve you was to push the basket along the floor while she pulled her body across the floor. When she arrived in the living room she was exhausted, her arms heavy. She started to fold her laundry - she couldn't be bothered to iron it but at some point her eyelids simply closed. Her body collapsed against the couch, piles of laundry around her as soft snores filled the room.

All night you had been thinking about whether you should visit her or not. If she wanted to see you or not. If you wanted to see her or not. And even though she hurt your feelings, you wanted to see you. You had to see her. You had to check if she was okay.

In front of her flat, you waited a few minutes, not completely sure if you should walk in - but you did. You opened the door with your spare key only to be met with the sight of a sleeping Rebecka on the floor, clothes around her as there was takeout trash on the living room table. Smiling to yourself, you closed the door quietly. Becks looked at peace, no furrowed brows, no scowl on her face, no anger. She looked tranquil.

And maybe she was right about your helper syndrome. As you saw the mess around you couldn‘t ignore it. She was laying on the floor, probably exhausted from the work she thought she could do alone. Every movement of you, was thought trough and quiet. You didn't want to wake her up, even if she was a heavy sleeper.

As you collected the laundry items, you silently folded them and sorted them in her wardrobe after you had covered Becks in a blanket.

When her flat was tidy again, you left. No note, no text, nothing.

The blonde woke up 3 hours later. She was confused, didn’t she fold the laundry? Where was it? Where was her empty takeout?

Did you visit her? This was you, right?

The confirmation came when the smell of your perfume hit her nostrils, a smell that she could recognize from miles away.

She felt even worse than before - why did she be so mean to you?

-

Becks stood in front of your apartment, knocking rapidly against the door.

"Hi-"

She didn't let you say anything and just walked in. "Take a seat-" you tried again, the way she balanced on her foot and the crutches gave you anxiety.

"You‘re always so nice" she stated, turning around. "you‘re amazing to me and i yelled at you"

"It‘s oka-"

"Stop talking, please" she whispered, taking a step towards you. She dropped her crutches and out of reflex your hands went to her waist to support her, she knew you would do it. She felt safe with you.

Your hands held a firm grip on your waist as you looked her in the eye. "I‘m sorry for saying those things, you didn‘t deserve that." Her arms went around your neck as leant slightly towards you with her body, "I'm trying to do better for you, to handle my-" her breath hitched as she inhaled sharply, those three letters leaving her mouth for the first time, "to handle the acl better"

"For me?"

"For you" she smiled shyly, her eyes never leaving yours as she leant forwards, this time with her head. Her lips ghosted over your own - it was a gentle peck, nothing more. Neither of you moved, it was simple and quick yet it held so much emotion. She would do better for you and come back stronger.

Resting your forehead against hers, you closed your eyes, "you need to focus on your recovery. I'll wait" you muttered, "I’ll wait as long as it takes"

-

335 days later, Becks was back on the bench.

After your little meet up at your home, there was no romance at all. You supported her at each step, were there at her first step without crutches and as she started to run again. As she said, she tried to better and she did. She started to watch the girls train, talked to them, laughed with them and joined team bondings. Slowly but surely her sunshine was coming back, it shone brighter than before - thanks to you. Becks was not only her smiley self again but did realize how much you meant to her. That kiss? She couldn‘t think about anything else. It was her motivation to fight. I‘ll wait - she was determined to kiss you again. She wanted to return the favour as you were with her every step of the way, she wanted to take you out on a date.

You couldn‘t have been prouder to see Becks back in the squad, every single cell in her body fought for it.

The fans were chanting her name, shouting for her the make her comeback.

It was the 89‘ minute when it finally happened. You walked to the sidelines, raising your arms, so the fans would cheer louder as they already did. Rebecka looked breathtaking in the kit. You high fived her and hugged her before you pressed a kiss to her forehead. You can do it.

You didn‘t bother to put on your jacket or drink something or anything, you only focused on the sunshine girl. The subs tried to talk to but it fell to deaf ears, as some people might say: you watched Becks with heart eyes, as if she hung the moon. And maybe she did because she was the sunshine.

Rebecka was officially back and showed it with her assist.

After the final whistle blew, the girls huddled around her, singing her name but she only had eyes for you. In the group hug, it was your hand which she held, your eyes that she stared into.

-

You watched her walk around the stadium, taking her time with each fan - it made your heart swoon. Her sunshine shone across the pitch.

She was the last one to walk back in the tunnel where you had waited for her.

"You waited?" she asked suprised, she thought everybody would be in the showers by now.

"I told you, I would"

her grin couldn‘t have gotten bigger. She knew what you meant, what you were referring to.

"As long as it takes" she whispered.

Everything disappeared, it was just the two of you in the tunnel of your club stadium. The last fans were escorted out, the pitch covered in darkness.

Just the two of you.

Both of you took a step towards one another, small giggled escaping your mouths. Her hands went to cup your jaw, thumbs caressing your cheeks as your hands found their way around her waist - a place they had enjoyed before.

Becks leant forwards, eyes closed as you did the same. Everything felt amazing. You could feel her breath against your lips, an inch away. You waited so long for this.

When your lips finally met, a content sigh left the both of you, lips interlocking perfectly as they moved in sync although not for long as the one and only Jule Brand stumbled in the hall.

"Oh! Did I interrupt something?"

———————

[caustinen]

[ DODGE ]: sender tackles the receiver out of the way of an attack.

Possibly for your Hollywood au, maybe as part of the stalker hc

Thank you for an interesting idea, I love finding new angles to look at this from! This is much darker than usual stuff for the au, I hope it’s something like you had in mind! I wrote this in a bit of a rush so apologies id there are a lot of mistakes 🥲

It had started out as a perfectly ordinary day.

Gale’s warm, quiet voice talking with a fan politely. Broad daylight, crowded street. He remembers being a little bored, arm lazily around Gale’s shoulders, looking around under his sunglasses while trying to not be too obvious about it. They’ve just come out of their favorite restaurant to the afternoon sun, and he’s a bit sleepy, making lazy plans about napping to a movie of Gale’s choice once they get home.

The waiting room is cold and lifeless. Even the flowers are made of plastic. It creeps him out, and he can’t stop pacing around, not wanting to stare into any of the corners of the room for too long.

Then, suddenly. The flash of metal reflecting light, somewhere in the periphery of his vision, somehow, miraculously catching his attention. Blink of an eye, then chaos. His own voice sounds foreign when he screams Gale’s name before pushing him out of the way of the knife.

Later they learn that the police have found something like an altar dedicated to John in the woman’s house, and her search history is filled with Gale’s name with different search words. Her journals reveal deep hatred and despair as the woman’s fandom of John has shifted to endless hate towards his partner over the last few weeks.

People around them are screaming, yelling, running, but Bucky can only hear his own heart beating as he stares at Gale’s shocked eyes, lying on top of him on the pavement. The smaller is shaking underneath him, and Bucky’s heart misses a beat when he notices there’s blood underneath his head.

The police are talking with Gale, and John has been exiled to the stupid hallway that makes him want to pull his hair out. He never lost consciousness but the bruises on his back and arms had already started to form by the time police and an ambulance had gotten there, and the concussion protocol had taken longer than expected to clear him for police interview in the first place.

Their security detail have already tackled the woman to the ground, but she’s still spitting towards them. “You fucking whore! Gold digger! You don’t deserve him fucker!” It’s all white noise to him though, he only hears what she’s actually saying later when the video someone took is uploaded and spread everywhere.

“Mr Egan?” Bucky turns around to find the two officers and a detective by Gale’s rooms door. ”We’re done. Thank you for your and your partner’s co-operation, let’s hope we can offer you some help.” Bucky nods stiffly.

Someone tries to approach them to offer their help but Bucky is not in a state to understand so, instead yelling for them to back off. He doesn’t realize he’s hyperventilating before Gale trembling hand cups his cheek. “We’re okay. We’re okay.”

Gale is sitting up against the wall when Bucky walks in, looking embarrassed for some reason. “It’s just some bruising, Bucky,” he whines, ”I don’t need to stay the night.” John is shaking his head before he even finishes the sentence. ”The doctor wanted to make sure you don’t have anything lingering. You hit your head pretty hard when I pushed you down.”

Gale frowns at him. ”You’re not blaming yourself for any of this? Right? Because if you are, I’m gonna kick your ass and I really shouldn’t be getting my heart rate up-” John lifts his hands up in surrender. ”Okay, okay!” he says, exasperated, ”I just. When I saw the blood I… I know it was just a scratch but.”

He breathes out deep. Gale lifts one arm in an invitation to come sit next to him on the bed, and John does, his hand finding Gale’s tummy underneath the soft hospital pj’s and then squeezing the fabric of the shirt. It’s clear Gale is also still more shaken than he wants to admit; his way to process it at this point is just to not talk about it more than he has to.

“That was so fucking scary,” Jogn whispers, barely audible with the AC running in the background. Gale takes his hand into his and starts playing with his fingers amongst his own.

“I know,” he sighs in agreement, ”but It’s all okay now.” ”Could’ve been real bad though.” ”Yeah, it could’ve been. But you did good, Bucky. You got us out of the way.”

Bucky doesn’t respond, just hugs Gale closer, not intending to let go any time soon.

[beansprean]

Ghost Memo, watching Nadja about to scrub a 273-year-old wool rug with a wet mop coated in bleach and guano: No no no no no

ANYWAY this is my official season 5 wishful thinking AU, it's not going to be a formal comic timeline like my other stuff but I’m a little obsessed with it! Anything about it will be tagged #MFG s5 au

Masterpost

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1a. The house, exterior, night. Lower third reading “vampire residence”. A speech bubble from within the house cries out, “Ay, fucking- Nadja!” 1b. Full body of Nadja slumped in a an armchair in her and Laszlo’s crypt, a magazine featuring scantily clad women laid open on her lap. The same voice comes from offscreen: “Nadja! You know the rules! You drink it, you clean it!” Nadja groans loudly, head tipping back against the back of the chair, arms and legs hanging limply toward the floor, and grumbles, “Bossy fucking pig-brain…” 1c. Shot from the main foyer of the house as Nadja descends the stairs. Nandor is in the fancy room in the background, talking to the camera with a boom mic positioned above his head. Nadja sticks her tongue out in his direction as she passes. Nandor is saying, “No, I do not miss Guillermo. He made his choices. But now we all must contribute to the household until we can find a replacement familiar.”

2a. Nadja stands in the hallway, straddling the rug with hands on her hips as she glares down at a large half-dry bloodstain on the rug. A mop in a bucket of dirty water sits beside her, and Nandor’s voice is filtering in from the hallway, continuing, “Of course I am looking! Just… no one has been quite right!” 2b. Close up on the bucket, filled to the brim with bloody muddy water, as Nadja lifts the equally gross mop out of it, grumbling, “Treating me like a fucking washerwoman… not even in a sexy way…” 2c. Nadja turns back towards the stain, mop in hand, and stares down in shock when the rug appears to now be perfectly clean. 2d. Nadja snarls and throws the filthy mop angrily down at the rug with a wet splat, screaming “Fucking witches!”

3a. Close up on Nandor back in the fancy room, doing his talking head. He grimaces and picks at his fingers nervously, glancing away as he says “My reading? Uhh… it has been going very well. I have opened so many books...” From offscreen, Nadja yells “Nandor!” 3b. Shot from Nandor’s other side, framing Nadja in the doorway to the foyer. On the wall to the left there is a painting of “The Girl With The Pearl Earring” starring Laszlo. Nadja glares at Nandor with hands on hips and asks angrily, “Nandor, did you send the witches tainted fucking semens?” Nandor leans forward in his chair to face her, the camera on him also swinging over to get her in the shot. He replies, offended, “Of course not, I make only the best semens and Colin Robinson delivered my glorious seed to the witches just last week!” Nadja fires back “Well, you bloody donkeys must have done something, because they have cursed the fucking house!” 3c. Close up on the doorway, Nandor suddenly standing up in the corner and echoing, “Cursed?!” in fear. Laszlo sidles up to Nadja’s side, asking, “Cursed how, my dulcet darling?” Arms crossed defiantly, Nadja replies, “A cleaning curse! This is the third time I have gone to clean and the mess has disappeared on its own!”

4a. Nandor and Nadja in profile, divided by the doorway with Nandor still standing in the fancy room and Nadja in the hall. Laszlo is leaning on the door frame facing the viewer, hands casually in his pockets. He glances up at Nandor with one eyebrow raised as Nandor, looking confused, and Nadja, looking defiant, stare each other down. 4b. Nandor raises his eyebrows and folds his hands outward, placatingly, replying, “Okay…?” Laszlo grins up at his wife and says, “Sounds like a bloody good curse to me!” Nadja unfolds her arms and chops them through the air, glaring at the ceiling in exasperation as she declares, “There’s no such thing as good curses!” 4c. Close up on Laszlo in the doorway as Colin Robinson suddenly pops in from the hall, leaning in close as he throws out, “Maybe we’ve got ghosts again!” Laszlo leans away from him slightly in surprise, smile dropping. 4d. Return to previous shot. Nadja turns toward Colin, throwing out her arms angrily as she asks, “Why would a ghost want to clean our house?!” Nandor rolls his eyes upward, throwing out his own arms as he echoes, “Why would witches?!” Colin just smiles indulgently, enjoying the chaos. Laszlo hunches his shoulders uncomfortably in the doorframe, frowning as he looks away toward the fancy room.

5a. Close up on Nandor puffing himself up with superiority, hands imperiously planted on his hips as he begins, “Nadja, if you do not want to do your part of the chores-“ Nadja interrupts from offscreen, “Oh, blow it out your loose, hairy arsehole, Nandor!” The camera and boom are in view behind Nandor, eagerly recording the scene. 5b. Back in profile, Nandor leaning toward Nadja and echoing “Loose?!” in an offended way. Nadja leans right back in his space, spitting angrily, “If you would stop dragging your big, stupid feet about finding a new familiar, I wouldn’t have any bloody chores!” Nandor stutters back, “I-I am still making inquiries; it’s an important decision!” Behind them, Colin is leaning comfortably on the side of the doorframe, hands laced together in front of him and smiling as his eyes glow purple behind his glasses. Laszlo has turned to leave the frame, walking into the fancy room.

6a. Shot of the foyer from the doorway as Nadja marches away across the hall, throwing her arms up angrily as she declares, “Oh, whatever! Don’t blame me when you wake up without your testicles!” The paintings in the foyer include a vampire version of “The Scream” and a version of “American Gothic” with Nadja and Laszlo. In the foreground, Nandor stares after her with a grimace, muttering, “Fucking girl…” Colin turns toward Nandor, smiling, and prompts, “Hey Nandor, tell me more about all the books you’ve been reading.” 6b. Nadja, now alone, slumps into a high-backed chair in the library with her arms crossed, pouting at nothing. Behind her is a dilapidated side table carrying a few unlit candles and an overturned goblet crusted with blood. There are a few canvases tucked behind Nadja’s chair including one that appears to be a version of “The Creation of Adam” with Laszlo as Adam and Nadja as God, surrounded by bats.

7a. Close up on Nadja’s face in profile as she snarls and mutters to herself, “Stupid bloody men, never fucking listening to me…” 7b. Repeat of previous panel. Nadja’s eye widen in shock, mouth snapping tightly closed as a voice offscreen replies, “Tell me about it.”

8a. Bird’s eye view of Nadja sitting up in her chair with mouth agape, hands gripping the arms, and staring upward toward the ceiling. The edge of a familiar face is in the foreground, glowing with a bluish-green light. Nadja calls out instinctively, “What?!” 8b. Nadja repeats “What?!” even louder as we see what she sees: Guillermo, glowing bluish green, floating near the ceiling and absently cleaning a large portrait on the wall with a rag and unlabeled spray bottle. He is wearing the same sweater from the season 4 finale. Ghost Guillermo looks over his shoulder to meet Nadja’s eyes, surprised. 8c. Overlapping close ups of Guillermo and Nadja as he turns toward her fully, eyes wide and flushed with excitement as he cries, “Wait…Nadja, you can see me?!” Nadja stares back at him mutely in horror. In the bottom right corner is text reading “to be continued…?”

9. In the style of a movie poster. Ghost Guillermo, wearing that same sweater and a ghostly tail instead of legs, takes up the center of the frame, glowing in hues of blue, green, and purple. He has a feather duster held up in one hand and is holding the forefinger of the other to his open lips in a shushing gesture. Behind him in the top right is the vampire residence at a low dramatic angle, red door glowing angrily as light night strikes the sky beyond. Just below is a bust of Derek in his work clothes, looking up at Ghost Guillermo with a nervous smile. In the top left is a bust of Vampire Guillermo, wearing a red waistcoat and no glasses, scowling over his shoulder at his ghost self. Behind him, a silver crucifix with a broken chain floats past. At the bottom, Nadja, Laszlo, Colin Robinson, and Nandor stand waist-up in a row looking up at Ghost Guillermo. Nadja is grinning in excitement, Laszlo looks something between bored and concerned, Colin looks uncertain, and Nandor looks distraught and worried, wringing his hands together. The tagline is written in ghostly blue: “moving out… doesn’t mean moving on!”, and the title is listed at the bottom in dripping red font: “My Familiar’s Ghost”. At the bottom further text reads “coming October 2022” and “created by beansprean”. /end ID

[harunade]

can i request something like a heated fight / miscommunication / jealous / whatever taerae but then he makes it up to you with gentle soft sex showing you how much he loves you and all… not a native english speaker so sorry if it’s not understable HAHA but angsty loving taerae has been on my mind sm lately <3

also !! would u write for junhyeon if someone requested?^^ love your writing hehe

yes id love to write for him and also tiot / evnne !!

sorry . kim taerae

pairing: bf!taerae x f!reader

warnings: smut , they fight, soft sex, piv, oral f recieving, making out, not proofread!

“What the fuck is your problem actually?” you screamed at Taerae. You guys never really fought but this time you were both in bad moods and something just snapped. On a normal day you would’ve solved this little argument immediately but on this particularly one it ended up with screams and stuff thrown on the ground.

“Can you shut up for once? Leave me the fuck alone.” Taerae yelled back at you before you stormed out of the room. Since the two of you shared an apartment, you had no choice but to sleep on the couch. He could have all your guys’ bed to himself and even fall off it for all you cared. But as you laying on your side hugging a duck shaped plushie he had won in the arcade for you, with the tv long forgotten in the back, you started to regret your actions. Maybe if you acted calmer he would’ve too.

Taerae must’ve had the same thought as you since you ended up with him sitting down next to you. You jumped at the sudden presence but quickly calmer down when you felt his hand caressing your leg. “What is it?” you peeked through the blanket. You noticed that he was wearing his red sweat pants that would normally make you laugh but this was too serious of a situation. “I’m sorry for yelling at you and telling you to leave me alone. I actually don’t want you to” he told you while looking down. His voice sounded broken as if he had been also crying. “It’s okay, Tae. I’m sorry too-“ you were laying on your side on the couch but ended up with Taerae on top of you.

“I’m really sorry, pretty. Let me show you-“ he leaned down and places a kiss on your cheek, then the other one, then your forehead. You had been crying a bit earlier so it was possible for him to have tasted your tears. Finally, he pressed his lips to yours. You hadn’t realised how much you had been aching for it as you instinctively cupped his face and pushed your lips harder into his.

One of his hands threw the blanket off of you and started going up inside of your shirt. The feeling of his cold hand made you gasp and Taerae took it as the perfect opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. Shortly after, his kisses moved down to your neck and collarbones. “am so sorry, baby- love you so, so much” he’d breathe out in between kisses and nibbled on your soft skin. “Let me take these off you, doll?” he asked making reference to his shirt you were wearing and your panties. “Yes, please… need you so bad”

Said and done, your clothes as well as his were on the floor and Taerae was kissing down you stomach. Lifting one of your legs to his shoulder, he leaned his head and licked a strip of arousal off your cunt. You moaned loudly and gripped at his hair probably harder than intended. “you’re so sweet, baby.. could eat your pussy forever, but not tonight” he pressed a few kisses to your inner thighs before lifting himself up.

If you looked down, you could see his erection standing tall and begging to be touched. “Will you take me, love?” he asked you as he pressed a few short pecks to the corners of your mouth. Your hands gripped his shoulder as your legs wrapped around his waist. “Yes, baby. i love you so much and i’m also sorr-“ he pressed another kiss to your lips to shush you. “It’s okay. i’ve already forgiven you. just want to show you how much i love you and how much you mean to me, my sweet girl” he looked at you with glossy eyes.

Taking his dick into his hand, he ran it up and down your wet cunt, collecting slick and slowly pushing in. He made sure to intertwine your fingers. When he finally bottomed out, he made sure to pull away and slam a little harder into you. “fuck.. tae..” you moaned out as he was slowly thrusting into you. You pulled him by the neck into another kiss. this one was more of a messy and heated one, as you swirled your tongues around and definitely had some saliva dripping down of your mouths.

“Are you close, princess?” he looked down at you while his thumb circled your clit. by the way you were trembling, you were, and he knew that too. “aww you’ve already gone stupid.. it’s okay, my sweet baby, i’ll take care of you” Taerae pushed away the hair that had stuck on your forehead. It didn’t take you long to cum, squeezing uncontrollably around your boyfriend’s dick. This made him let go as well, filling your womb while a loud moan left his mouth.

Taerae collapsed on top of you, but still made sure to pick up the blanket from the floor and cover the two of you. “Are we good?” he mumbled from the crook of your neck while you hands were either around his waist or in his hair. “Of course, my dear” you turned your head and started pressing kisses everywhere on his face, just like he had previously done with you. He smiled into the kiss when your lips finally met.

[fnafwritings]

Could you write Sun or Moon comforting the reader while theyre having a panic attack? 🥺

You’re not quite sure how you even ended up in the daycare in all honesty.

It’s not as if you had anywhere particular in mind, so you could have ended up almost anywhere and would have been just as confused—but the daycare seemed… better. Quieter. It shut down a few hours before the rest of the facility so that it could be cleaned and prepared for the next business day, so it meant that all of the kids had been picked up; no screaming, no noises, no blaring horns or overdriven guitars.

It was quiet.

You needed quiet.

Whatever had set off the episode was a complete mystery, but the Pizzaplex had absolutely no shortage of sights, sounds and smells that would have set you tumbling over the edge of ‘okay’ and thoroughly into ‘spiraling anxiety attack’

Your chest was on fire, your thoughts were flying—no comfort came from the knowledge that you only had an hour or so left on your shift, and the general noise from the crowds still within the building only made you feel like you were suffocating. Not enough space, not enough air-

Not enough.

Whether by choice or fate of your footsteps, you slip through one of the back doors of the daycare so you can hide yourself away and lean against the wall. The supply rooms kept most of the extra toys and supplies and smelled too strongly of disinfectant to be perfect, but it was better than most options; even the bathrooms had speakers constantly pouring music and advertisements for one of the hundred things that the company wanted people to spend money on.

But none of that mattered right now.

Right now it is quiet and dark. You hadn’t bothered to turn the light on when you came into the room, so only the thin sliver of light from the hallway lit it up enough for you to find a sufficiently empty corner of the room to lean against the wall and slide down until you were sitting on the cold linoleum.

Nobody would find you here—you are safe. You are safe. You are safe.

The words echoed in your head, a fragile mantra to quell the vicious storm of thoughts and emotions sending a rapid heartbeat through your ears.

“And just whooo might you be?”

The voice, soft and almost lyrical, nearly made your heart stop. Before you could even try to hurry out and claim you’d made a mistake in finding the bathroom, there was already a presence kneeling beside you. The only light came through the bottom of the door and the small window out into the main daycare area, so couldn’t make out very much of the figure.

An animatronic—that much was obvious right off the bat by their size alone. Even crouched the figure was several feet high, towering over you with a lithe figure and looming red eyes that seemed to pierce through you. It didn't take more than a few moments to recognize them as the Daycare Attendant, the animatronic tasked with looking after the kids dropped off in the aforementioned daycare. You'd only seen them a few times, but weren't very familiar.

They... looked a little different from normal. Instead of a beaming face resembling a cartoonish sun, their face was divided by a crescent-shaped moon. There were some other minor differences, but it is their eyes that make you squirm beneath the gaze.

“S-sorry,” Is all you can stammer at first, voice shaky and quiet between shallow breaths. “I’m not—I’m just taking a b-break.”

The figure is silent for a few seconds, which at first is incredibly unnerving, at least until you realize they're looking at your chest—more specifically the employee ID card hanging from the lanyard around your neck. A moment passes, and you assume they're scanning the employee number on the front.

Finally they move, shifting fluidly so that they’re sitting cross-legged next to you, but it's the sound of your name that catches your attention most.

"Aren't you rather far from your station, little star?"

The endearment is one you've often heard within the daycare, a soft way to refer to the kids. And while you'd like to correct the animatronic on the diminutive nickname, something stops you. It... feels kinda nice.

"I..." the sound stills within your throat. Heart is still racing. "I work by the Fazcade."

"We know," they respond, words neither cold nor particularly comforting. "But you're nnnot supposed to be here. Naughty naughty."

They raise and waggle a finger in front of you as if they were scolding a child. You're not sure whether to feel offended or not by the gesture, but it's probably just because they're programmed to care for kids; and technically you really aren't supposed to be the dark storage room for a section of the building you weren't even assigned to.

"I'm sorry," the apology is repeated, and for a moment you worry if the daycare attendant is going to kick you out. "I'm not going to mess with anything, I just n-need a few moments."

The animatronic is silent, watching with that eerie gaze until you start to squirm again and your heartbeat picks up in tandem.

"I-... Everything was starting to get t-too loud, too... s-small."

"Sssmall?" the attendant inquired. Their low tone of voice carried a gentle note of concern.

Your eyes flick to the floor in something akin to embarrassment. How would an animatronic understand what an anxiety attack is? How do you even begin to explain the layers of emotion involved or how it makes your skin absolutely crawl at the thought of going back to that crowded noisy arcade for another entire hour?

Some time passes before you find the words to answer with. They're half-ready on your tongue when you look back up, but the daycare attendant has disappeared from where they had been sitting not even a minute before.

You blink.

Before the question of your sanity can even emerge from the murky pool of your inner thoughts, they return with a few quick, fluid steps. With one motion they sit down and reach out a closed hand towards you, something enclosed against their fingers and palm.

Extending a hand in turn is almost instinctual.

A heavy, metallic shape falls into your palm, a bit larger than a deck of cards.

"Turn it on," they say, tone low and raspy, but oddly comforting.

Though you fumble a bit in the low lighting, it doesn't take long for you to find a little toggle on the side of the item and click it over.

Slowly, softly, a tune begins to fill the air from your palms. It is very simple and bright, though it takes a few seconds for you to recognize the music and the item itself quickly after that.

"A music box?"

They were sold at the main entrance gift shop, but you had seen kids walking around with them after getting picked up from the daycare. Did they give them out? Why are they giving you one? The answer to the former is elusive, but the second one actually is quickly put to rest--the daycare attendant tilts their head quizzically to the side for a moment before letting out a low noise that you assume is akin to a chuckle. Can animatronics chuckle?

"Sssometimes the world is very scary," they say, a gentle hiss in the 'S' that you have to wonder is a verbal quirk or not, "but it's okay to be scared. It's very brave, in fact."

Ah. Another programmed response--again, you're not entirely surprised, given the fact that they have to care for children, so undoubtedly they had encountered something like this before.

A hand, much larger than your own and metallic, settles on the top of your head in a motion that, while surprising at first, feels rather nice.

"Didn't mean to frighten you," the attendant says, gently messaging their fingers against your head while trying not to mess up your hair. "This is... what often works for some of our wards."

Our? You certainly weren't in charge of any kids. The verbal error is quickly filed under the thoughts from before and largely forgotten as they continue to speak.

"Just focus on the musssic," they instruct, "and breathe slower. Don't worry about counting--nothing else exists right now little star. It is just you, me, and your little gift."

Quick, shallow breaths are hard to stop. It's as if your body is on overdrive, pulling itself by the strings from a complete and total meltdown.

But your chest begins to slow. Little by little. It doesn't help the racing thoughts in your brain or the feeling of being too cramped, but... it does help. The attendant coos at you in a low tone almost rhythmic against the repeating tune; normally you'd hate how the music cycled over and over again, but the repeated notes act almost like an anchor in the moment. Familiar. Safe. It is so tiny in your hands.

"Gooood," they hum. "You're doing a good job right nnnow, little star. Can you slow down that breathing a little more?"

Something inside you wants to follow the gentle instructions, so your breathing starts getting deeper, more prolonged and deliberate. At first it feels suffocating, but slowly... eventually... your heartbeat begins to even out to a healthy resting rate. The attendant presses their hand down a little more firmly on your head; not enough to hurt, but enough to feel the pressure distinctly. To focus on.

"Safe."

The word seems to melt into the gentle tune still echoing in the dark, empty room.

"You are sssafe. Nothing is going to hurt you. Weee're... riiiight... heeere."

The words mimic the mantra you had been trying to focus on ironically just before they found you, and it continues for... you're not quite sure how long, actually.

Minutes? An hour? All you know is at some point your phone starts buzzing in your pocket with a text message, and that almost startles you back to reality--but not in a way that tosses you right back into your spiral of anxiety. No, when you lift your eyes up and finally find breath and voice, it's with a renewed sense of stability and assurance.

The daycare attendant simply meets your gaze, though the once red eyes seem less unnerving and more lulling, and you can only imagine that this version of the attendant is to help putting the kids down to nap during the day.

"...Thank you," you finally whisper, and they pull their hand back from your head. A quick glance at your phone reveals that while it hasn't been an entire hour, twenty minutes seemed long enough.

"You should return to your area, little star."

With a nod, you slowly get up onto your wobbly feet and try to take a step; somehow your ankle doesn't bend quite the way its supposed to in order to catch your weight, and you nearly tumble onto the floor.

Only nearly because the attendant catches you, hands carefully on your shoulders and applying just enough pressure to keep you from tripping over your own feet.

"Shit," the word fumbles awkwardly out of your mouth. "Th-thank you... sir?"

"An acceptable title of formality," they say, affirming at least one new fact about them. "But you may call me Moon."

The realization of the animatronic having a name is more surprising than the sudden shift from plural to singular pronouns. But why? All of the other animatronics in the Pizzaplex had names and personalities... why couldn't this one?

"I... Thank you then, Moon." It is a fitting name, at least. But did they give it to themselves? Or was it simply something assigned so that kids had something easier to say when talking to them?

After a few moments to make sure you wouldn't trip again, you follow the thin trail of light towards the door. Just about to turn the knob, Moon's voice stops you with the sound of your name.

Peering back, you can't see much of Moon's figure, but their eyes peek out of the darkness, and their voice carries with it such a genuine sense of warmth that it lingers for hours afterward.

"Make sure to return... if things ever feel too loud again."

[the-anime-enthusiast]

As per request of @tired-jaz here's some dabi fluff for the touya fans 😈 This is purely fluff but here's a lil quick disclaimer ⚠️ jaz this isn't totally what you asked for but Its still fluff and got some pretty sweet stuff in it 😭(pun intended) HOPE YALL ENJOY‼️

NOT AS SWEET

AS YOU (dabi x reader)

DAY ONE ☎️

"3 months, THREE WHOLE MONTHS NAKI. WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO? I havent felt the touch of aan, MY MAN, in three whole months", you scream into the phone, not caring the damage youve dealt to your sisters eardrums.

"Y/N" she screams back.

"Yes..." you retorted sheepishly with a slight ansgt.

"Isnt he coming bacm in like what? 3 DAYS?? I hate to break it to you gurl, BUT PLEASE, calm down, I get it but he'll be there soon."

"BUT"

"NO. NO BUTS. What happened to the logical and rational you i know? The one dabi fell in love with? Youll have him all to yourself in no time. I know its hard, especially cause you haven't been able to talk to him either, but honey please. Hell be there alright. ALRIGHT?"

you sigh, "I'll calm down. You're right I guess, don't wanna embarrass myself in front of him after 3 months..." you breathe out staring at your feet face reddening at the thought of your desperate actions. "I just miss him, a lot."

"Y/n...I get it, i really do, and i hate to do this right now, but i have to go, if you need anything youll tell me right?"

"Yeah yeah you know I will", you respond rolling your eyes simultaneously.

"REMEMBER" the sudden loud tone sending you to jump up, "3 DAYS THEN HES ALL YOURS. BYE BYE!" she acreams ending the call with a kissy sound.

Your hand drops down, looking at the caller ID

"I know" you wisper to yourself.

DAY TWO 💤

Grogginess? She practically your bestfriend you think rolling over to the other aide of your bed, arm slewn over your back orher cupping the side of the pillow youve found yourself clutching for dear life to the past couple of months.

"Dabi..." you whisper, eyes squeezing shut trying to imagine his face again as you bury your face into the pillow

"please come home" is the last thing your pillow hears before you pass out on top of it wishing it was him you were on top of instead.

Nothing could quite distract you from his absence like sleeping your life away.

DAY THREE 🍰

Anxiety was eating you alive like you were the twilight saga and a book worm was having a feild day.

"Nothing has changed between us right?" you thought. "Right?" you repeat to yourself, a sickening smile creeping on your face with tears pricked in the corners of your eyes.

"NO" you yell sitting up to hang of your bed.

"I WILL NOT BE SAD. I REFUSE. ONE MORE DAY

"Y/N. YOU GOT THIS! I GOT THIS? I GOT THIS." you chant storming to your kitchen. Given the ungodly amount of sleep you got yesterday, you hadnt eaten barely anything but leftover cookies and some milk.

"OH. MY. GOD." you aggravatingly sighed out

"I'M SO DAMN HUNGRY" followed by a whine as the refridgerator swining open, and then the realization hit you, you wouldn't be surprised if dust and a moth flew out with the door.

"DAMN INGREDIENT HOUSEHOLD WHAT THE HELL" you yell falling to your knees while slamming the fridge shut, followed by a bang on the door with your fist.

Your head soon met the door as well with your begging you from 2 weeks ago to stop the decision of purely doordashing food to your front door while dabi was gone, leaving you broke as hell. Checking your bank account wasn't any better than the fridge, but in optimism you tell yourself, if theres one thing an ingredient household will get you, its crazy amazing dessert recipes made out of practically thin air.

-skip to later that night-

"Holy shit-" you breathe out

"Holy fucking shit, so. much. dessert. So many... everything?" you question scanning your kitchen surroundings, brownies, cookies, Tres Leches, cookie dough, instant jello, popsicles?

"How in the actual hell...did i make...popsicles..."

you whisper before collapsing of exhaustion.

Slowly picking up your phone to check the time, you read 2:45 a.m.

Following is a look of worry, exhaustion, and confusion as you pass out on the kitchen floor.

DAY FOUR - DABI'S COMING HOME

My keys slowy make their way into the key hole, first sturggling due to my franticness to see her. My girl.

"y/n" I whisper out getting frustrated that the key keeps getting stuck.

"Dammit!' i whisper yell as the door finnalg flys open crashing against the wall behind it.

"What the hell? Why does it smell like...HUH?"

He screeches feasting his eyes on the copious piles of desserts covering every kitchen surface.

"What the hell..." he whispers, barely taking the time to notice you crashed out on the kitchen floor.

"Y/n..." he whispers leaning down to you, a look of pity and concern stretching across his otherwise emotionless face.

"baby..." is the last thing he says before reaching behind your neck and waist to hoist you up into his arms.

A feeling of warmth overcomes your body, a feeling of comfort, one you cant quit explain while wrapped up in your Candy Land like dream, one where you of all people were a diety of dessert. Slowly coming back to consciousness you hear the words of your lover...

"baby" you feel whispered against your ear, the familar voice sending shocks through your body.

No matter the lack of sleep and energy spent on your Master Chef Desserts you shot up clinging to dabi like it was the last time.

"DABI" you screeched into his ear as he pulls you in closer.

He presses a kiss to your ear, "hey princess, missed you baby" he says pressing a second one right after the other.

The feeling practically melts you, nothing beats some sweet love from your lover, especially the physical lind.

"Dabi" you sigh

"Yes princess?"

"Kiss me again?"

"Hm?"

You grab his collar pulling his face for his eyes to look into yours.

"KISS ME" you growl locking his eyes with yours noticing the sly smirk spreading across his beautiful face.

"Alright alright, i heard you the first time" he chuckles cupping your cheek and pulling your waist flush against his stomach.

"Since you ask so nicely..." he teases bringing your face close to his.

You can't explain it, maybe its the lack of him you've experienced the past three months or his overall deamenor but its like you cant think anymore. Everythings fuzzy, your nose filled with the smell of the previously baked sweets mixed with the ash and cigarette smell on his collar. You lose complete control melting into his hands, making him work to keep your body up as his lips meet yours. You make note of the gentleness he's displaying, something not often seen, even behind closed doors. It doesn't feel like hes going to give you the night of your life, or like hes about to do whataver he wants to you, he feels like he's about to hold you until the sun comes up, bury his head in your neck, lay you on his chest kissing your head, whispering sweet nothings like

"you're so beautiful baby..."

or

"i missed you so much" followed by his nose burrowing in your hair.

'you miss me too pretty girl?"

maybe a

"Im here its alright princess..."

or maybe

"you need anything baby?"

its almost out of charcter for him, but somethings changed, the way he holds you, something happened. He holds you now like hes actaully scared to lose you. His kiss isn't filled with lust, but love, pure innocent love, one you've never felt, you think leaning more into the kiss slowly making your backs way down to the floor.

His lips press deeper into yours, never wanting to leave but nevertheless he pulls away leaning over your frozen body beneath him.

"Baby" he whispers moving your face so his eyes meet his, given you were hiding it out of embarrassment.

"Yes..." you wisper back peering up into his beautiful eyes, taking note of the difference in his stare. He holds there for awhile, staring into your eyes, searching in them like he'll find something, still holding your face lovingly.

Your left hand comes to meet his hand on your face cupping over it shooting him a small smile.

"Dabi? "

"Hm?" he hums back seeming to come back to reality.

"S-sorry" he stutters a bit, a like shade of pink running across his cheecks.

Your smile never leaves as you bring your other hand up to meet his face, pulling it down to your head to rest his forehead against yours.

"I love you" you whisper.

"Hm..." he hums with a slight chuckle sending a look of horror to your face. His laugh grows as he puts more pressure against your foreheads.

"I'm just teasing baby" he says moving his mouth to kiss your forehead as he pulls you up to sit with him, pulling his hand of your cheek to allow more balance on the way up.

"Just teasing" he repeats moving to kiss your cheek allowing another small smile to come up on your face as his hand meets your face again. He follows with small kisses peppering across your cheeks, forehead, nose, jaw line, and even some daring to your neck. All that's heard throughout your shared apartment is small giggles and the sound of his lips coming off of your skin.

"Hey princess" he says looking for some focus as he comes up to cup both your cheeks.

"Yes?"

"I love you."

Your face goes an ungodly red.

"Hm?" you question, face blank, leaving him to chuckle to himself.

"I love you baby" he repeats giving you a warm smile leaning his forhead bacm against yours.

"I..." you smile back... "I love you too dabi" you whisper allowing his lips to come back to yours for one final kiss before your mouths are otherwise occupied scarfing down the pile of treats waiting for you on the counter.

"Pretty sweet huh?" you tease bumping your hips into his.

"Not as sweet as you baby" he replies a sweet smile spreading on both your faces as you match each other's gaze.

[cherrycola27]

Till Death?

Summary: You and Bradley promised to love each other till death... you just didn't think it would come so soon.

Pairing: Rooster x Reader, Hangman x Reader

Warnings: Mature Themes. 18+ Minors DNI

Previous Part

Epilouge

...........................................

Part 5

Silence fell across the room. Your eyes were wide as you looked at Jake.

You looked over at Rooster, who had a death grip on the arm of the chair he was in. "What the hell did you just say?" Rooster asked through gritted teeth.

"I said since I'm not going on the deployment, she could marry me. Then, when you get back, if she wanted to, we could get it annulled, and then you guys could get remarried. If she wanted to." Jake spoke.

"You must be out of your God damn MIND if you think I would ever allow that." Rooster growled.

"Allow it? Last time I checked, you don't get to make decisions for her." Jake scoffed.

That did it. Rooster jumped up from his seat and lunged towards Jake. "STOP IT!" You screamed at them. Both of their head snapped at the sound of your voice. The ID specialist looked panicked. Nick was blissfully unaware as he sat in the corner and played with his toy plane.

You stepped between them. "Jake, I'm not going to marry you. I'm not going to commit fraud. You could be arrested and get a dishonorable discharge of we did that." You tell him. "I can't even believe you would suggest such a thing. I mean, that's crazy." You shake your head.

"Honey, I—" Jake tries to explain. "Don't." You cut him off.

"And as for you, Bradley—" you turn to face him. "You don't allow me to do things. I can make my own choices." You state.

"I know, Honey, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have—" He hung his head.

"We've known each other for years, Bradley. And when we were married, before everything happened, I loved you. I really did. I still love you, but you aren't the person I married anymore. You're different. And I know it's not your fault. Neither of us could have predicted our lives would turn out this way." You tell him.

"I'm sorry things are the way they are. I'm sorry that we are in this impossible situation. But I think this deployment will be good for us. Give us both time to think if this is still what we really want. All of us, we need to heal." You say, looking between Bradley and Jake.

"You're right." Rooster breaths out. Jake nods in agreement.

"Well, um, it looks like Admiral Simpson pulled some strings to where you won't lose your benefits." The ID specialist states clearing her throat.

"Thank you." You tell her before scooping up Nick and exiting. Rooster and Jake follow behind you.

"Is there somewhere we can go where the three of us can talk?" You ask them.

Jake nods his head and leads everyone to an empty conference room.

"Bradley, Jake, sit down. I have some things I need to say." You tell them.

They both sit. Nick had fallen asleep in your arms. You carefully placed him in a plush chair in the corner of the room before addressing the men in front of you.

"I love both of you. But over the past year, I haven't really liked either of you." You tell them.

"Bradley, we have been through so much together... but we've both changed in ways that would couldn't have predicted. I've tried so hard to be a good wife, but I feel like part of you still resents me for what happened when you were missing." You tell him. You can feel the tears coming.

"Jake. You put me back together when I was broken, but you also shattered me when I needed you the most." Your voice cracks.

"I've tried so hard this year to please everyone, to keep the peace. But I'm so tired of it. I'm tired of you two always fighting. I'm tired of feeling like I can't do anything right. I'm tired of feeling like a horrible person for loving two people." You don't hold back the tears as they fall from your face.

"I—I just want to be happy again. If I could turn back time, I'd make sure we never got on that boat. But I can't do that. We can't change the past. We can only move forward, and I don't think the two of you realize that. It's nobody's fault for what happened." You take a deep breath and try to compose yourself.

"I don't want to lose either of you. But I'm tired of the two of you expecting me to choose." You tell them.

"Honey, we're sorry. We, or at least I didn't know you, felt like this." Rooster begins. Jake nods his head in agreement.

"What—what do you need from us?" Jake asks.

"I need some space. Bradley, I want you to be safe on this deployment because I want you to come home. But I think the distance will be helpful for both of us." You tell him. He nods his head. You can tell his heart is breaking.

"Jake. I know you want to be there for Nick and I while Rooster is away, but I need a break from you, too." You tell him. He nods. His expression mirrors Rooster's

I just need some time to think. When these eight weeks finish up, I promise I'll be able to make a choice, but whatever I do, the two of you have to accept it, and no more fighting, no more arguing, no more competitions." You tell them.

"Okay." They say at the same time.

"Honey, I promise to respect whatever decision you make. But promise me that you'll do what makes you happy." Roostet tells you.

"Exactly. We've not been the best. You're right. All we want is for you to be happy." Jake tells you.

They both stand up to hug you. You pick up Nick and let Rooster hold him on more time before telling him goodbye. You give him a final hug before leaving.

It's late by the time you get home. The house is dark. You put Nick to bed and pour yourself a glass of wine. You let out the breath that you'd been holding and for the first time in a year, you thought about what would make you happy.

8 weeks later.............................

You hadn't expected to do this. Honestly, you hadn't. But over the past eight weeks, you took Bradley and Jake's words to heart. What made you happy? And you discovered that you made you happy. Spending time with your son made you happy. Traveling made you happy.

When you got the news that Rooster was coming home, you had told him and Jake to meet you at your home and 6pm the day he returned. You checked the clock. 5:55, any minute now, they would get there.

You took a deep breath, and you hoped that they would understand why you did what you did.

Jake was waiting for Rooster on the porch when he returned home. They exchanged a few pleasantries before Rooster unlocked the door.

The house was dark and quiet, almost too quiet. "Honey, I'm home, we're here!" He called. There was no answer.

He and Jake quickly searched the house, but there was no sign of you. Your car was gone, and several of your things were, too.

"Hey Hangman!" Rooster called from the kitchen. Jake ran to meet him. "What?" He asked, looking at Rooster.

Bradley held up an envelope that had his and Jake's names written on it in your neat script.

Carefully, he opened it before reading it outloud.

To my Dearests, Bradley, and Jacob. First off, let me say I'm sorry. When I last spoke to the two of you, I never planned to do this. But over the past two months, I found out what made me happy. It was me. I figured out how to love myself again. I love both of you. I do. But I can't be with either of you right now. The wounds are still too fresh. I've done some healing, but I need more time.

Please don't worry about me or Nick. We are fine. I'll send a postcard from each place we visit to let you know how we are doing. I'm keeping in touch with Penny, Mav, Bob, Phoenix, and my parents. But they have strick orders not to tell you where we are. Please don't be mad at them. They are respecting my wishes.

I promise, when the time is right, I'll come back. Please don't try to find me. I'm okay. I promise. I know this is hard, but this is what I need right now. I'll write again soon.

All My Love, your Honey

Bradley and Jake stood there in silence. "What should we do?" Jake asked. "We leave her alone. We do what she asked us." Bradley told him.

"So that's it? We just—" Jake didn't know what to say.

"We let her heal. We let ourselves heal. She's a big girl and can take care of herself. When she's ready she'll come back to us." Bradley patting him on the shoulder.

Jake nodded before pulling Rooster in for a hug. They shared a silent understanding that this was for the best. Jake excused himself and went home.

Later that night, as you lay in your hotel room, you looked at your phone. Both of them had sent you almost identical text messages.

They told you they got your letter and understood why you were doing this. Both of them promised to respect your wishes and take care of themselves. They both ended their messages by telling you they loved you.

You didn't respond to either of them. You sighed. You knew this wasn't forever, but it was what was best for now.

Guys, I have received so much love for this story, and I have loved writing it. I had originally planned to go longer with it, but I didn't want to sacrifice quality for quantity. This is not the end. I have an epilouge in the works. So be on the lookout for that. I'm also celebrating 1k followers, which I never imagined I would be. If you're interested, please check out my TOPGUN: Taylor's Version playlist challenge on my master list. Would love it if you wanted to participate in it!

I hope you enjoyed reading this, and I hope when the epilouge comes out, it brings you peace.

Thank you for being amazing.

Love, Nik❤️🍒🧅

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