#a panda plays a tag game | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

focusonkayjay · 2 months ago

Text

between the ride and the roses (9)

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: biker/ motorcycle shop owner! jungkook x flower shop owner! reader, enemies to lovers, opposites attract, slow burn, angst, smut, fluff

Series summary: There's an insane turn of events when your calm and peaceful life is intruded by Jungkook, a biker boy who sets up his loud business right next to your own. Your paths cross under unlikely circumstances, starting with a clash of personalities but gradually you find yourself establishing a deeper connection with the annoyingly attractive biker jerk. You both have no idea what's in store for you guys as you try your best to put up with each other.

Word count: 3.5k

Chapter Warnings: it's finally the day of the fair, there's tension, bike ride, they're just too cute

A/N: might be one of my most fav chapters that i've written up until now. i personally love the fair scene a lot and omg ahhh jungkook is so cute. we're finally getting close to something. can't wait hehehehe. stay tuned and let me know your thoughts <3

part 9: wheeling through the lavender breeze

D-Day; The day arrives bathed in golden sunshine, the town raging with excitement. It’s the day of the fair, and everyone has poured their hearts into its preparation. By noon, vendors are bustling about, arranging their stalls and testing their games, while colorful streamers flutter in the gentle breeze.

The aroma of freshly baked goods mingles with the faint tang of fried treats, filling the air with a sense of nostalgia and anticipation.

As the clock strikes four, the fair officially begins. Crowds gather, filling the once-quiet town square with laughter, chatter, and the occasional shriek of joy from children trying their luck at the game stands. Everything has fallen into place, every detail, every decoration, every event like pieces of a perfect puzzle.

You and your friends are a bundle of energy as you dive headfirst into the fair's festivities. Namjoon, ever the intellectual, lingers at the trivia booth, determined to win a stuffed panda for Juwon, who laughs at his serious expressions. “Joonie, it’s just a plush toy, not a Nobel Prize." she teases, earning a playful glare from him.

Meanwhile, Seokjin and Taehyung are at the dart stand, where Jin, with his trademark overconfidence, declares he’ll hit the bullseye. “Watch and learn, peasants.” he smirks, only for the dart to land embarrassingly off-target. Taehyung howls with laughter, clutching his stomach. “Hyung you're a true champion!” he snorts.

Sunjae drags you towards the ring toss game, and as you toss rings together, he nudges you playfully. “Bet you can’t beat me.” he says. You smirk, your competitive streak kicking in.

By the end of it, you’re both laughing uncontrollably, arms weighed down with the silly prizes you’ve just won, ranging from keychains to plastic crowns and a plush cat that you can’t resist keeping for yourself.

The group jumps from stall to stall, savoring churros dipped in chocolate and slurping down colorful shaved ice. It’s a day of simple joy and happiness, only made brighter by the presence of your closest friends.

On the other side of the fair, Jungkook wanders with his group of friends. Yoongi strolls at an unhurried pace, a relaxed smile gracing his face. His hands rest comfortably in his pockets as he takes in the vibrant atmosphere, a quiet sense of pride swelling within him for the part he played in bringing this fair into life.

Hoseok, in contrast, is a ball of energy, dragging Jungkook to a basketball hoop game. “Come on, man, show them what you’ve got!!!” he cheers as Jungkook effortlessly lands shot after shot, earning himself a stuffed bunny prize that Hoseok is quick to keep for himself.

Jimin, ever the charmer, flirts his way to extra turns at the candy claw machine, much to the amusement of the group. “Watch and learn, Jungkook.” Jimin quips as he retrieves yet another lollipop.

Despite the company of his friends, Jungkook’s thoughts keep drifting back to you. His sharp eyes scan the crowd, catching glimpses of your laughter, your playful antics, and the way the sunlight dances across your features. You’re radiant, your joy infectious, and it tugs at something deep inside him.

Last night’s moment in the storeroom replays in his mind like a never ending loop... the way your breath hitched, the warmth of your skin under his fingertips, the soft whisper of his name. He had been so close, so achingly close to pulling you in and just kissing you. The memory burns, and he clenches his jaw, frustrated by the distance now separating you.

His gaze finds you again, this time at a food stall. You’re sipping lemonade, your lips quirking up into a grin as Sunjae says something to make you laugh. Jungkook’s chest tightens. He doesn’t know how to explain it, but seeing you like this... happy, glowing, and so effortlessly beautiful makes him fall harder, faster, deeper.

He knows he should focus on the fair, on his friends, but every fiber of his being wants to be near you. To hear your laugh up close, to feel your touch again. But not yet. Tonight, he tells himself. It has to wait until tonight.

As the clock nears six, the fair transforms into something out of a storybook. Fairy lights strung along the trees flicker to life, casting a soft golden glow. Lanterns sway gently in the breeze, their warm hues giving the town square a magical charm.

The sound of children’s laughter is joined by the distant strumming of guitars, signaling the start of the evening performances.

You pause for a moment, your gaze sweeping across the vibrant decorations that adorns the fairgrounds. The floral arrangements, each carefully placed, now seem to glow under the warm lights, accentuating their colors and adding a touch of elegance to the scene.

You feel a wave of pride as you take it all in, your chest swelling at the realization of what you and the rest of the volunteers have accomplished.

Just days ago, this fair felt like a daunting task, a nightmare of to-do lists, late nights, and endless arrangements. Now, it’s a masterpiece. The flowers you chose, the garlands you hung, the small details you agonized over... it’s all come together, creating a space that feels alive and enchanting.

“Wow.” you whisper to yourself, unable to suppress the smile spreading across your face. It’s a moment of quiet triumph, shared silently with the fair itself, as if it’s rewarding your hard work with its newfound beauty.

Eventually, the performances start. The first act is a children’s dance group, choreographed by none other than Juwon. She stands at the edge of the stage, practically vibrating with pride as the kids twirl and hop in sync. “Look at them go!” she gushes, clapping enthusiastically.

Taehyung grins, leaning over to Namjoon. “Juwon’s going to be the next big choreographer. Mark my words.”

“Already calling it.” Seokjin agrees, stealing popcorn from your bag. “Hey!” you protest, slapping his hand away. Finally, the children finish their routine to a roaring applause. Juwon beams, her eyes shining with happiness as the kids take their bows.

The night deepens, and the concert begins. The stage is bathed in soft, ethereal light as a local band plays slow, romantic tunes. The crowd sways gently, hands raised, their movements in sync with the music. It’s a moment of collective peace, an almost perfect ending to a bustling day.

Amid the sea of people, your eyes meet Jungkook’s again. He stands at the edge of the crowd, his dark hair falling across his forehead, his expression unreadable. But his eyes... those pretty eyes... they’re locked on you, burning with an intensity that makes your breath hitch.

Your heart races as you try to focus on the music, but your thoughts betray you. Last night’s moment in the storeroom, the lingering looks throughout the day, the way your body aches to be near him... it all bubbles to the surface.

Do you feel something for him? Of course, you do. But is it fleeting, or is it something deeper? As the music swells, so does the turmoil in your heart. Your gaze flickers back to him, and for a moment, everything else fades... the crowd, the music, the fair. It’s just you and him, two souls pulled together by an invisible string.

But tonight isn’t over yet. You push the thoughts aside, silently promising yourself you’ll confront them soon. For now, you let the music guide you, your heart beating in time with the melody and, perhaps, with his.

As the concert ends and applause fills the air, an announcement crackles through the speakers, inviting everyone to the open field just beyond the fairgrounds for the final event of the night: stargazing. The crowd buzzes with excitement, parents tugging their children along, couples holding hands, and friends chattering eagerly as they make their way towards the dimly lit path leading to the field.

The field stretches wide and open, a canvas of lush grass under a sky that seems impossibly vast. The lights from the fair are distant now, leaving the stars to claim their throne.

Tiny specks of light twinkle against the inky blackness, brighter and more abundant than you’ve ever seen. Someone has laid out blankets in a semi-circle for people to sit or lie on, while lanterns placed on the periphery cast a soft, warm glow that doesn’t disturb the night sky.

You settle onto one of the blankets with your friends, the chatter among you gradually softening as the beauty of the scene washes over everyone. Taehyung stretches out, resting his hands behind his head. “I could just live here forever.” he murmurs, his voice tinged with awe.

“Yeah, but where’s the Wi-Fi???” Seokjin quips, breaking the reverent silence. Laughter ripples through your group, light and easy, before quieting again as you all gaze upward.

Not far from you, Jungkook sits on the grass with his friends. Yoongi, as usual, seems perfectly content to enjoy the moment in silence, while Hoseok chatters about the stars and how he used to imagine himself as an astronaut. Jimin teases him endlessly, saying, “Yeah, Hobi, you’d make a great astronaut, especially with your fear of heights.”

Jungkook chuckles at their antics, but his focus is elsewhere. His dark eyes keep drifting back to you. You’re lying on the blanket, your head tilted towards+ the heavens, your profile illuminated by the faint glow of the lanterns.

His heart feels heavy and light all at once. He watches the way your lips part slightly in awe, the way your fingers absentmindedly brush a strand of hair from your face, the way the stars seem to reflect in your eyes. It’s as if the universe has conspired to make this moment just for you, and he’s lucky enough to witness it.

He thinks about the storeroom incident again... the way your lips felt against his cheek, the way your voice trembled slightly when you told him to wait five minutes. He remembers the panic in your eyes, followed by that fleeting kiss, and something inside him stirs. Last night was the beginning of something, he’s sure of it.

And yet, he knows this isn’t the moment to bridge the distance. He has to wait, as much as it pains him. But the night feels infinite, and in its quiet magic, he allows himself to hope.

As the stargazing continues, some of the organizers hand out tiny glass jars with glowing fairy lights inside, a gift for everyone to take home. Children gasp and squeal in delight, running around the field with their jars, pretending to catch fireflies. You can’t help but smile at their joy, hugging your own jar close as the warmth of the moment fills your chest.

Eventually, the night of the fair slowly winds down, the music softens, and the once-bustling crowd begins to thin. The fairy lights still twinkle above, casting a dreamy glow over the remnants of the evening's magic. You find yourself walking back towards your shop, the sounds of the fair fading into the background.

Stepping inside, you make your way to the counter, rifling through your bag to ensure you’ve gathered all your belongings. You spot the plastic crown you won earlier in one of the fair games, its shiny surface catching the light, and try to fit it neatly into your bag. A quiet knock on the glass door pulls you from your task.

Startled, you glance up and freeze. It’s Jungkook. He stands still just outside, his hands in his pockets, a gentle smile playing on his lips. His eyes meet yours, full of warmth and a hint of something unspoken, and instantly, your cheeks burn, your heart skipping a beat.

You fold almost immediately, unable to suppress the shy grin that spreads across your face. Slowly, you move towards the door, your gaze locked with his, as if tethered by some invisible force. When you open it, the barrier between you disappears, leaving the two of you face-to-face under the quiet night sky.

“Jungkook…” you greet softly. The weight of unspoken words lingers in the air, but you push it aside for now. All that matters is the present moment, standing here with him. “Long night, huh?” he says casually, his voice light, though his eyes hold a depth you can’t quite decipher. He's still in the same spot, his feet glued to the entrance outside your shop.

“Yeah… the fair. It’s finally over.” you breathe out, glancing behind him, over his shoulders towards the quieting square. “It was... magical.” you add, a soft smile tugging at your lips.

When you look back at him, you notice the way he’s staring at you, the hint of a smirk curling one corner of his lips. “The fair is over… but the night...” his voice trails as he continues. “the night is still young.”

You tilt your head in confusion, but curiosity flickers in your chest. He reaches out his hand, palm up, the silent invitation clear. “Come with me?” he asks, his voice gentle but firm, his eyes glimmering with a playful tease. A laugh escapes you but you still find yourself placing your hand in his. “Come with you? Where?”

“You’ll see...” he replies simply, his smirk deepening into a full smile, the kind that sends your heart fluttering.

With no hesitation, you trust him. After switching off the lights in your store and locking the door, you follow him into the night, your hand still securely in his. The fair may be over, but something tells you the night’s magic is far from done.

Jungkook leads you to his bike, parked right outside his shop. Two helmets rest on the seat, a small detail that sparks both curiosity and excitement. Gently, he lets go of your hand, picking up one of the helmets and holding it out to you.

“Wear this.” he says simply, his tone soft but firm.

You take it from his hands, your fingers brushing against his for a fleeting moment. Despite holding the helmet, you remain rooted to the spot, your gaze fixed on him as he fixes the helmet over his head, still trying to process what was happening.

He notices your hesitation and chuckles lightly. “Come on, just trust me." he says, stepping closer. Before you can react, he takes the helmet from your hands and carefully places it over your head.

His hands work with a gentle precision as he adjusts the fit, his fingers brushing your jawline while he clips the buckle below your chin. The proximity makes your heart race, and you try to steady your breath as he steps back, admiring hoe adorable you look.

“We’re taking your bike?” you question the obvious, the confusion and curiosity evident in your voice. He nods, his lips curving into an almost teasing smile as he swings his leg over the bike, taking a seat.

“Mhm.” he hums, settling in and gripping the handlebars with ease. Turning his head slightly, he flashes you a cheeky grin. “Hop on. We’re going for a ride.”

For a moment, you hesitate, glancing between him and the bike. But the glimmer in his eyes and the excitement in his voice are contagious. You know you’re about to step into the unknown, and yet, you can’t bring yourself to say no. With a deep breath, you take a step forward, ready to join him on this spontaneous adventure.

You’re wearing a long, sleeveless flowy summer dress, its fabric brushing gently against your legs, paired with a loose-knit sweater that drapes carelessly over one of your shoulders. The thin strap of your dress peeks out from under the sweater, the slight exposure making you self-conscious for a fleeting moment. You adjust it nervously as you prepare to climb onto Jungkook's bike.

Sitting behind him isn’t easy, especially in a dress, but you manage to settle yourself carefully, your knees tucked close and your hands unsure of where to rest. The bike rumbles softly beneath you, and you feel the cool evening breeze starting to sweep through your hair.

“Hold onto me.” Jungkook says, his voice calm yet firm, as he looks back over his shoulder.

You tentatively reach out, your fingers grazing his sides before resting lightly on his torso. The hesitation in your touch makes Jungkook chuckle softly, the sound low and warm. “Come on.” he teases, his grin audible in his voice. “You’re not gonna fall off, but you might if you’re this shy about it.”

Before you can respond, he reaches back, his strong hand wrapping around your wrist as he pulls your arm forward. The sudden motion causes you to gasp softly, and you find yourself pressed against his back, your arms now circling his torso completely.

“You gotta hold on tight.” he says, his voice softer now but laced with amusement. The warmth of his body seeps through his leather jacket and your sweater, and you can’t help but feel the strength and steadiness beneath your palms, through the thin material of his t-shirt that peaks between the zipper of his jacket.

Your cheeks burn, but you comply, gripping him a little firmer. Jungkook revs the bike, the vibrations sending a thrill through you as the realization hits... this moment, this closeness, it’s real.

“Better.” he murmurs, as if reassuring you both. Then, with a slight tilt of his head and a quick glance back, he says, “Ready?”

You nod, even though he can’t see it, your heart pounding against your ribcage. With a flick of his wrist, the bike roars to life, and the world around you blurs as the two of you take off into the night.

The ride is sensational. Jungkook zooms past the dimly lit streets, the glowing storefronts and scattered streetlights blending into streaks of color. The rumble of the engine vibrates through your whole body, and the cool night air brushes past your skin with a ferocity that sends your adrenaline skyrocketing.

You clutch onto Jungkook tighter as the wind whips through your hair, the speed thrilling and a little terrifying at the same time. Yet, instead of fear, an exhilarating sense of freedom takes over. It’s as if the world around you has melted away, leaving only the pulse of the bike beneath you, the blur of the road ahead, and the warmth of Jungkook’s body against yours.

When he speeds up, you can’t help the breathless laugh that escapes your lips, the sheer rush making you feel alive in a way you’ve never experienced before. You tilt your head back slightly, letting the breeze carry your laughter as if it could echo through the night.

The road soon opens up onto an empty bridge, the lights from the railing casting faint glimmers onto the endless stretch of the road. With no other vehicles in sight, it feels like the entire world belongs to the two of you. The vast sky above, dotted with stars, mirrors the open road below.

“Having fun?” Jungkook’s voice cuts through the wind, deep and playful, somehow carrying over the roaring engine and rushing air. You don’t answer right away. Instead, a grin breaks across your face, and without thinking, you throw your head back and scream. “Wooooooo!”

Your joyous cry echoes through the empty bridge, wild and untamed. Jungkook glances back for a second, his laugh joining yours, a genuine sound of delight and appreciation. He loves this moment... your carefree energy, your laughter, the way you’re soaking it all in.

“You’re something else.” he mutters to himself, the words swallowed by the wind, though the warmth in his tone lingers. Time seems to stretch and blur, the ride feeling both endless and fleeting. The stars above seem brighter now, the night unfolding into something magical as Jungkook continues to glide across the open road.

But just as you think the ride might never end, the bike begins to slow down. The engine’s roar softens to a hum, and the rush of the wind eases, letting the sounds of the night seep back in... the gentle chirp of crickets and the faint crashing of waves.

You look up, your surroundings coming into sharper focus. On the right, the vast expanse of the ocean unfolds before you, the moonlight dancing on its surface. Your breath catches as you realize where he’s brought you. The beach.

Jungkook pulls over to the side of the road, cutting the engine. The sudden quiet feels almost deafening, except for the rhythmic lull of the waves crashing against the shore.

“Surprise.” he says softly, glancing back at you with a small smile. His helmet’s visor is up, and you can see the glimmer in his eyes.

For a moment, you’re speechless as you still hold onto him, the beauty of the scene stealing your words. The vast ocean stretches endlessly before you, and the night feels alive with some kind of possibility.

<- part 8 // part 10 ->

series masterlist

taglist:@kimyishin @ghijkd @dolligguk @mimi1097 @jksusawife @yooforeaa @abbie1847 @myjungkookthighs @thesarcasmqueen-22 @fairypjminie @lovelytaes-blog @jjeonjjk7 @daddyjeonnn @vantelover1306 @jeeykey @shellyyy177 @daskewl @blackswan18 @korian97 @minimoninini @ericawantstoescape @rpwprpwprpwprw @tokkiggukie @jaytheatiny

#jungkook fic #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #bts #bts jungkook #bts fic #enemies to lovers #jungkook fanfiction

199 notes · View notes

tetsuissohot · 4 months ago

Text

JJK MEN as DADS - fluff drabble

☆summary. fluff moment between jjk men and their kids - each character as a different scenario.

☆warning/tags: fem!reader, teeth rotting fluff, jjk men as dads

☆word count: 1.3k

☆a/n: I had so much fun writing this cute drabble! I hope you can awwww like I did!

The Unbeatable Claw Machine Champion... or Not

The brightly lit arcade buzzed with energy, kids running around with excitement. Gojo stood in front of the claw machine, eyes narrowed with concentration. His son was bouncing beside him, eyes wide and filled with hope as he pointed at the cute panda plushy inside.

“Alright, watch the master at work,” Gojo said, cracking his knuckles dramatically.

His son giggled, clutching his favorite toy—a tiny batman plushy . The claw descended slowly, aimed perfectly for the panda, but just as it was about to grab it, the claw slipped, and the plushy tumbled back into the pile.

“Darn it!” Gojo exclaimed, throwing his hands up in frustration. “This thing’s rigged!”

His son tugged on his sleeve. “It’s okay, Dad! You can try again!”

Gojo puffed out his chest, determined now more than ever. “I won’t give up! My honor is on the line!”

Five attempts later, Gojo had spent an embarrassing amount of money and still hadn’t won the plushy. His son was laughing now, clutching his sides as Gojo groaned in defeat.

“I swear I could exorcise curses, but I can’t win a simple claw game,” Gojo muttered, shaking his head.

His son grinned, tugging on his sleeve again. “It’s okay, Daddy. You’re still the best!”

Gojo couldn’t help but smile at that. “Alright, but next time, that panda is mine.”

Daddy’s Little Helper

It was a quiet, early morning, the sun barely peeking through the curtains. Nanami sat on the edge of the bed, his tie draped loosely around his neck, waiting patiently as his daughter, a serious expression on her face, stood in front of him. She was determined to tie it properly, her little fingers fumbling with the knot as she tried to remember the steps he’d shown her.

“Over... under... then around, right, Daddy?” she asked, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

Nanami chuckled softly, resisting the urge to fix the tie himself. He adored these little moments—her small hands trying to help him get ready for work. “That’s right, but remember to pull it tight here.” He pointed at the knot gently.

After a few more seconds of struggle, she stepped back, triumphant. The tie was crooked, the knot slightly uneven, but she beamed up at him, proud of her work. Nanami looked down at her, his heart melting at the sight of her toothy grin.

“How do I look?” he asked, adjusting the tie slightly but leaving her knot mostly intact.

“You look perfect!” she said, bouncing on her feet, her happiness contagious.

He crouched down to her level and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Thank you, sweetheart. I’ll wear it just like this today.”

Dr. Megumi to the Rescue

Toji lounged on the couch, an amused smirk on his face as he watched little Megumi waddle over. The boy was wearing one of Toji’s oversized button-up shirts, the fabric hanging off him like a giant lab coat. He had a plastic stethoscope draped around his neck, and a toy doctor’s kit in one hand.

“I’m Doctor Megumi,” he declared, his face serious as he climbed onto the couch beside his dad. “I’m gonna fix your boo-boo.”

Toji raised an eyebrow, leaning back as Megumi got to work. “Oh yeah? Gonna fix me up, huh? How are you gonna do that, Doc?”

Megumi frowned in concentration, gently poking at the scar on Toji’s lip. “First, I gotta check if it hurts.”

Toji played along, letting out a fake groan. “Ouch, yeah, definitely hurts.”

Megumi nodded, taking this very seriously. He grabbed a band-aid from his kit and awkwardly pressed it onto his dad’s lip, the bandage far too big and covering half of Toji’s mouth.

“There. All better!” Megumi said proudly, climbing off the couch to admire his work.

Toji looked at his son, the band-aid dangling off his lip, and couldn’t help but chuckle. “You’re pretty good at this, Doc. Think I’m gonna be okay now?”

Megumi gave a firm nod. “Yup! But you gotta keep the band-aid on forever.”

“Forever, huh?” Toji ruffled his son’s hair. “Alright, if the doctor says so.”

Braids and Giggles

Suguru sat on the floor, his back against the couch as his little girl stood behind him, combing through his long hair with wide, curious eyes. Her fingers twisted the strands in every direction, her tiny hands moving in random patterns as she tried her hardest to braid it.

“Are you sure this is gonna look good, sweetie?” Suguru asked, his lips quirking up in a soft smile.

“Yep! I’m almost done, Daddy! You’re gonna look soooo pretty!” she said, her voice full of excitement.

Suguru chuckled, sitting patiently as she continued to twist and tangle his hair. A few moments later, she clapped her hands together, signaling she was finished. “Okay! Done!”

Suguru reached up, feeling the lopsided, uneven braid she had made. Some pieces were sticking out, others were barely in the braid at all, but her eyes were sparkling with pride.

He turned to her with a warm smile. “What do you think? Do I look pretty now?”

His daughter nodded enthusiastically. “The prettiest!”

Suguru chuckled and leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead. “Then I guess I’m ready for the day. Thanks, sweetheart.”

Choso sat on the floor in front of the mirror, his lips painted bright pink, his eyeshadow a chaotic mix of colors that his daughter had lovingly applied. She was concentrating, brushing his hair with a little comb while humming to herself.

The Sparkliest Runway Star

“You’re almost ready for the runway, Daddy!” she announced proudly, pulling out a sparkly headband and placing it on his head.

Choso smiled softly, watching her work with so much joy. “You think Mom’s going to be impressed?”

His daughter beamed, nodding excitedly. “She’s gonna love it! You’re gonna look like a princess!”

Choso chuckled at that, glancing at his reflection. He certainly didn’t look like a fierce curse user anymore. Instead, he looked like a very sparkly, dolled-up dad. But seeing how happy it made his daughter, he didn’t mind one bit.

“Alright, I’m ready. Let’s go show Mom,” Choso said, standing up and offering her his hand.

They walked together, hand-in-hand, to find Y/N. As soon as they entered the room, Y/N burst into laughter, covering her mouth with her hand as she took in the sight of Choso in full makeup and glitter.

“Oh wow, look at you two,” she said, grinning.

Choso gave a mock-serious pose. “What do you think? Do I have a future in runway modeling?”

Their daughter clapped her hands, bouncing on her feet. “He looks like a princess, right, Mom?”

Y/N nodded, laughing. “The most beautiful princess.”

The Nerf Ambush Gone Wrong

Shiu and his son were in the middle of an intense Nerf battle, ducking behind makeshift forts of pillows and couches. Both were armed, giggling as they took aim at each other. Shiu peeked around the corner, ready to fire, when suddenly—

Thwack!

“Ah!” came a voice from the hallway.

Both froze. The Nerf darts had gone rogue and hit you, who had been peacefully carrying a laundry basket. You stood there, eyebrows raised, clearly unimpressed.

Shiu immediately dropped his Nerf gun, hands up in surrender. “It was an accident, I swear!”

Your son giggled nervously. “Sorry, Mommy!”

You just shook your head, grinning. "Now, help me pick up these darts."

You sighed dramatically, placing the laundry down and shaking your head, pretending to be serious. “Well, if that’s how you’re going to play...”

Without warning, you snatched up one of the extra Nerf guns from the couch and shot both of them with a perfect aim. Shiu stumbled back, clutching his chest in mock pain. “Oh no, she’s too powerful!” he said, collapsing onto the floor dramatically.

Your son immediately joined in on the fun, laughing as he ran to hide behind you, the tide of the battle turning in your favor.

Shiu stayed on the ground, dramatically pretending to be defeated. “Looks like you’ve won, but this isn’t over...”

MASTERLIST

314 notes · View notes

hexalianrebel-blackfeathers · 5 months ago

Text

Uh...

This terrifies me. >w<

I'm half kidding, they don't all count. (Plus all my finished ones are still in this folder.) Buuut, accounting for the ones I know I'm actively working on:

Y'know, I thought it'd be worse. Enter at your own risk, and thank you @rachi-roo for thinking of me.

Before anyone asks: yes, I do use the Fanfiction.net title 'format' for my fanfiction files. I kind of just like how it looks. (And it helps me remember what I'm supposed to be doing if I'm away for too long. >-<) Favorites are marked. >w<

I don't know if you want to count my original stuff--they're in a separate folder(s) anyway--but if you do:

The Power of Laughter*

The Blackblood Files* The Knights' Mantle (Working Title) Children of Hexalia*

Whisker Wizards

The Elegy of the Ashen Bastard The Ballad of the Paladin's Loop The Shanty of the Finfolk Sea The Waltz of the Compassionate

The Way of the Skatesworder

--------------------------

Fanfictions:

-From Dust to Dust; a Boku no Hero Academia Fanfiction

-(Tickle) Fight Club; a Spiderman--Across the Spiderverse Fanfiction*

-How to Stop a Quirk; a Boku no Hero Academia Fanfiction*

-The New Fenton Family Calendar; a Danny Phantom Fanfiction

-Webs of Deceit; a Spiderman--Across the Spiderverse Fanfiction

-On Your Marks; a Spiderman--Across the Spiderverse Fanfiction

-Let's Just Call it Joyriding; a Spiderman--Across the Spiderverse Fanfiction*

-Arcade Mania; a The Black Phone Fanfiction

-Adventure is Out There; a Hades 2 Fanfiction

-The Weekenders; a Friday Night Funkin' Fanfiction

-I Want Jessie's Girl; a Spiderman--Across the Spiderverse Fanfiction*

-Bad Boy; a Spiderman--Across the Spiderverse Fanfiction

-Refraction; a My Little Pony--Friendship is Magic Fanfiction*

-Just Joking Around 2; the 'Funny' One; a Boku no Hero Academia Fanfiction

-The Lost Boy; a Spiderman--Across the Spiderverse Fanfiction

-Blooper Reel; a Zero Escape Fanfiction*

-God Save the Queen; a Spiderman--Across the Spiderverse Fanfiction

-Among Us*

-My Body is a Temple; I just like Graffiti; a Spiderman--Across the Spiderverse Fanfiction*

-Bakusitting; a Boku no Hero Academia Fanfiction

-The Missing Pages; a Boku no Hero Academia Fanfiction

-Feathered Blades; a Legend of Zelda (Skyward Sword) Fanfiction

-Peaches and Scream; a Boku no Hero Academia Fanfiction

-Tabletop; a Misc. Story*

-Crash Course; a Haikyuu Fanfiction

I don't even really know 25+ people to tag... T^T But I guess I'd say @gaybananabread, @hypahticklish, @nhasablogg, @otomiyaa @wordstrings @thebest-medicine @a-fluffer-nutter, and probably anyone else who stumbles across this. >w<

I was tagged by @yemaomeow to do this! Thank you!

Rules: make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! Then, tag as many people as you have WIPs

I'm kind of boring and only have one writing WIP. But I have other projects! So I'll give them names too.

Here's what I'm working on:

# Wolf pt 2

# Lotus

# Strawberries

# Middle Earth

# Curse

Here's five mutuals! @risingscorchingsuns @mandanator @aromantic-cactus @uchu-no-bashira @real-genya-shinazugawa

#a panda writes a thing #a panda says a thing #a panda plays a tag game #a panda plays an ask game #panda's friends

27 notes · View notes

calitears · 18 days ago

Text

sessions

3. turn it up!

story masterlist

tw/notes: cussing, drinking, slightly offensive jokes, small tiny manga spoilers (?) (it just mentions two characters who haven’t appeared in the anime yet doesn’t spoil the plot or anything)

as far as you knew, toge, panda, and yuji had stayed downstairs playing rounds of beer pong while you happily went with nobara upstairs. however it seemed god was on your side today as megumi tagged along behind you two, for whatever reason. you heard him mumbling under his breath something about not liking the taste of beer or even the actual game, but the reason seemed unimportant now as he sat next to you, alone, after nobara ran off saying she was going to go get another friend of theirs or something like that.

usually you’d be able to strike up a conversation, however you felt rather awkward as megumi seemed distracted on his phone, furrowing his brow slightly, typing away against the screen.

what could you ask him? his hobbies? what his favorite movie was? wait, didn’t yuta say something about them being in the same class? finally after another minute, he put his phone away and sighed, looking up ahead of him.

oh what the hell was there to lose, if you failed miserably you’d probably never have to directly meet him again anyway.

as you spoke up, you smiled slightly at the way his attention almost immediately turned to you.

“so… what do you do?” well you had a good chance, maybe, but what the hell type of question was that to start off with?

“what do i… do? like… job wise?” he questioned, a slight pout on his lip, but maybe they were just naturally like that.

“yeah.”

he shrugged slightly, before leaning back further into the couch, “i make music, go to college, have a job on the side too…”

“oh, cool- wait you made that song with yuji right?”

he internally cringed “no. don’t bring that up.”

you almost laughed at the way his expression soured almost immediately just by mentioning it.

“it wasn’t that bad…”

“you don’t have to spare me. don’t lie to my face, i know it was horrendous.”

“well… i haven’t heard any of your other stuff, but i’m sure you were just being nice to yuji to let him… y’know… on one of your instrumentals.”

“well i need to redeem myself then, i can’t have that as your only impression of my music.”

“y’know… we should trade…”

“trade?”

“i listen to yours, and you listen to mine…”

he seemed to think about something for a moment, before letting out a small huff.

“…and if i already listened to yours?”

now that caught you off guard.

“you have?”

he shifted slightly in his seat, and you could’ve sworn he leaned in closer, even by just an inch.

“yeah… actually got curious from yuji’s post with you. it’s pretty good just… it’s not usually the type i’d listen to, but that doesn’t mean it’s bad.”

smiling at him, you moved closer, yet he didn’t seem to move back at all, mostly just seeming amused. “oh, so you’re not into ‘pink princess pilates’ music?”

he scoffed, a small smirk forming on his face, “what type of ai generated spotify wrapped thing is that?”

“that’s exactly where i got it from actually, was one of my genres…”

“well… at least it sounds cute, i think it’s ‘fitting’, i got grouped into something called ‘abstract indie sleaze soundtrack moment’.”

“the hell does that even mean? sounds like a red flag honestly, maybe i should stop talking to you hear…”

“not gonna give me a chance then? thought yuji said you were into me?”

“oh my god did he seriously say that- can’t he keep a secret?”

he was about to respond, his expression still slightly playful until suddenly a voice cut in, and you saw a girl jump into the empty space next to him, sitting down. “fushiguro! it’s been too long!” she exclaimed. megumi seemed startled at first, but relaxed after another moment. “oh… hey hana.”

“i missed you- where have you been recently?” she continued, seemingly wanting to reach out and touch him, but hesitant to.

“just busy… work… college and stuff.” he replied, about to turn back to you to introduce you to what you hoped was just his friend, that is until yuji and nobara seemed to have finally caught up with you guys again. before you even got the chance to say goodbye to him, yuji was pulling you off the couch and dragging you away from the group.

“y/n real quick- sorry- but pleaseeee you need to dj for us or something- just for like half an hour at least!! you need to show off against this asshole!”

no context whatsoever to what was happening, you couldn’t even reject yuji’s offer as he basically dragged you towards the music booth.

outside the studio…

sigh… guys i don’t hate hana i actually think she’s a cutie and love her but i had to bring someone into that role… 😥😓😪

yuji such a feminist wanted to prove some guy who was drunkly babbling on about #womeninmusic wrong accidentally crashed the moment

y/n texted maki a sc of megumi’s instagram and she put two and two together immediately

megumi was actually just writing down a reminder to get in contact with y/n but nobara wanted to push him

idk why the gif drops qualities every time i use one hope it doesn’t bother anyone 💔💔💔

taglist (open)

@starrysho @anotherwriternamedclara @qtnfer @ist0leurc0ffee @missunrise @lovefromberry @beepbopzlorp @1l-ynn @gumims @vivienne-jo @s6rine @good-mourning0 @raquel12 @kasumitenbaz @susiekern @anngelllla @saekolust @wgafa @arrozyfrijoles23 @that-willowtree @restrictionsapply @wrldwyde @estella-novella

*feel free to ask in inbox, comment, or pm if you’d like to be added!!

*if your tag isn’t working pls change your settings or let me know!!

117 notes · View notes

konigbabe · 1 year ago

Text

steal the thunder - I -

Pairing: Hajime Kashimo x fem!sorcerer!reader Word count: 5.8k Tags/warnings: no y/n; unhinged reader; manga spoilers (Culling Games + Perfect Preparation arcs); fight description; canon-typical violence; there will be eventual smut in the later parts fyi Summary: There's murder in the air – with the Culling Games underway, a simple task of finding an angel turns to a fight for life when you meet a certain, static and 400 years old sorcerer with cyan hair and wicked intentions.

Artwork by poro (poro06625649) on Twittter [source]; divider by @skylightlantern [source] For a better understanding of the reader's CE and CT, visit this Tumblr post.

masterlist • navigation • faq • AO3 • ko-fi

There's murder in the air – an unsettling undertone that pollutes the atmosphere. Gentle breeze carrying the metallic fragrance of blood within its currents.

The dockside keeps quiet. Sky clear, devoid of seagull calls. Walking by colossal steel shipping containers, stacked high, the scent persists. Clings to the air like a persistent specter. Each step accompanied by the gentle lap of waves against the pilings, their rhythmic cadence a stark contrast to the horrors you've seen.A soothing lullaby in the midst of chaos.

The maze-like layout of the quayside comes to an end when your muscles strain, lifting off the ground and landing atop the steel structure.

A giant panda comes into view. Its relaxed posture, perched on hindlimbs, contrasts with its impassive countenance as it gazes your way.

"Panda," you address what some might believe to be an actual animal; innocent, cute and completely harmless. Except for this Cursed Corpse – your subordinate – is none of those things.

He fixes you with your very name; a disturbing familiarity in his eyes, then the words escape his lips.

"The smell of blood's so thick," he voices as you draw near, words cutting through the tension. "There must be about three people dismembered here–"

You hold up two fingers, the other hand nestled in your pocket.

"Two actually," you intervene, voice a measured interruption, "walked past a man with a hole the size of a soccer ball in his chest."

The memory resurfaces – the sight of the man, head drooping, neck bent at an unnatural angle. Eerie web-like burns sprawled across his bare flesh. The smell of singed skin and ozone hangs in the air, a pungent reminder. Yet, it's not just that which jolts your senses. It's the residual static of someone's cursed energy, an unsettling presence that lingers.

"But that's not what troubles me," continuing, you stand next to Panda, arms now crossed as both of you watch the lifeless skies, "something bad's here. I tried following the remnants of the cursed energy of the perpetrator but it was very faint."

"Could be an expert who can turn their cursed energy on and off at will…" Panda thinks out loud.

You let the idea sit for a second. Could it be the case? Could someone in this colony be capable of doing it? Known, registered sorcerers are absent here. The majority are newly awakened, scarcely equipped to comprehend a sophisticated notion like this. And why would they feel the need to hide their cursed energy?

No.

Dismissing your doubts, you shake your head and stride toward the edge of the shipping container.

"Don't think so. Nevertheless, we're here to find that angel girl and negotiate with her." Stepping onto the container's edge, unfazed by the high drop; balancing skillfully, you extend one leg over the edge, about to step into empty space. In a seamless motion, you touch down on the solid concrete ground below.

Panda follows suit, rolling off the shipping container with agility, landing right beside you. Then he stands, an odd combination of human-like stance and panda appearance, more akin to a person in a panda costume than an actual animal.

"Our safest bet is to leave the docks. Fast. Just play pretend, avoid any unnecessary conflicts and make it out of this colony in one piec–"

The sentence's left hanging as a sudden shift in the atmosphere catches your attention. Panda falls on all fours, frozen still.

"Ah," a deeper, resonant voice rumbles from your right, the words echoing as the familiar sensation washes over you. A sudden buzz inside your mind, an abrupt surge of awareness regarding another sorcerer's presence. Heart mirroring the rapid flutter of a startled bird's wings.

Their cursed energy, concealed and latent, manages to evoke an almost primal response within you. A sense of fight or flight.

You pivot to face the uninvited presence before you.

A cascade of hair, vivid as a robin's egg and kissed by the hues of a clear summer sky, is gathered into twin buns atop his head while tendrils of untamed locks dance freely in the breeze, resembling a stormy sea. Longer bangs frame the contours of his face, softening his visage.

He stops when his eyes – the same uncanny shade as his hair – bore into yours. Carrying what you'd guess is a Nyoi staff slung over his shoulder, he stands at a slight angle. Excludes casual confidence, a sense of poised readiness.

"Another one," he breaks the silence. You stand your ground in response to his observation.

"Not interested in a fight," you remark, hands risen in a defensive gesture. Yet you don't dare take your eyes off the sorcerer. Ready and composed.

Panda, ostensibly cautious, inches closer to you, fur bristling in sync with his unease towards the newcomer's presence. The air tightens, charged with the unspoken potential for violence.

"Kogane," he calls out to the shikigami, summoning it like a wisp from the aether; the small creature materializes, its hue the shade of a serene lake, light and amicable as it floats near his head, "is the panda a player too?"

The shikigami screeches its answer, its words setting everything in motion.

"Indeed!! A player! Yep!!"

"That's a function," your pondering voice meets a forced silence. The state of perturbed ambiance vanishing as your thoughts are cut off.

A flesh of white. Empty space occupies the spot where the sorcerer was standing less than a second ago.

You sense his presence before your eyes even settle on his countenance; his eyes, framed with short zig-zag lines reminiscent of lightning bolts underneath them, a furious cauldron of murderous excitement as they lock onto yours. They widen with a manic intensity. An undertone of madness lurking deep within their depths.

A predator's gaze fixated on its prey.

In a heart-stopping moment, time stands still. The world around you fades into a blur as a primal instinct takes over. Your body reacts; a precision born of pure reflex – muscles coiled like springs, you counter his attack with a swift and calculated movement.

His volatile energy crackles in the air. Your hands snap up. Fingers attempting to curl around his bandaged forearm. Channeling your cursed energy to your clavicles, the place where his palm lays flat against you –

But your reactions prove inadequate. You're too slow. A shocking speed and heavy push; a surge of force is sent through your body, catching you off-guard. The ground beneath you becomes a temporary adversary. Your balance disrupted as you're sent flying backward.

Back colliding with the hard, metal steel of a shipping container – you watch in horror as the sorcerer mercilessly attacks Panda. Using his staff as a weapon. With unnatural speed and agility, Panda struggles against him; his valiant resistance a testament to his determination, his form a blur of motion as he evades the sorcerer's attacks and manages a few good blows of his own.

Your body feels light. A tingling sensation surging through your veins. Electric current's rushing beneath your skin, setting your pulse racing and your focus to a razor's edge. The metallic taste of blood floods your mouth. Mingles with the adrenaline in your body. Every nerve firing in response to the raw energy pulsing through your body.

It hits you then–

"Heh, electricity," you mumble, the word slipping from your lips as you raise your palms, clenching your fists. Feeling the tingling in the tips of your fingers. The slight buzzing in your ears.

–his cursed energy has a special trait. One certainly hard to defend against.

Barely seconds have passed since your body was forced to rest against the ground. It still feels too long with Panda barely matching the man's speed and force.

Gritting your teeth, the urgency of the situation anchors you, overriding any pain or disorientation as you fight to regain your footing. A sense of pride fills you when you watch Panda use his technique, striking the sorcerer with enough force that'll easily knock him out cold. One of Panda's winning moves.

Except it doesn't.

"Nice one," the man's voice rings out. A taut smirk playing at the corner of his lips. Your teeth clench, disbelief intertwining with unease as you watch. With a predominated precision, the sorcerer maneuvers his staff, entwining it with Panda's arm in a smooth motion that catches you off guard.

Exerting a forceful pull, he forces a grimace from Panda. Right arm caught in the vice-like grip, a sickening crack underscores the moment. Followed by the nauseating sensation of Panda's arm being torn from his body. Violently. And mercilessly.

Panda stumbles. Pain and agony escaping in a cry. The sorcerer doesn't waste a second. Hurls the arm back at Panda, using the momentum to charge forward. Palm aiming flat against his chest, he sends Panda flying backward – the same way he did to you. Causing your junior to experience a similar sensation to yours.

The cyan-haired man straightens, seemingly relaxing, already content with winning the fight.

"But I'm not impressed," he taunts, words an ominous echo of the violence just unleashed, "It's too ordinary."

Feeling the concrete beneath your feet, you take deliberate steps forward. With an inkling of Panda's potential strategy, you expel the pooled blood from your mouth, spitting it onto the ground.

"...Sukuna, you know where he is?" The man's words flow, attention diverted, ignorant of your presence.

A fortunate circumstance.

"No clue," Panda responds. His reply burdened with weariness and defeat; yet his gaze remained fixed on you, a silent exchange of understanding passing between you as you position yourself, tension radiating from his weary form.

The sorcerer scoffs; a contemptuous tilt of his head, a gesture laden with superiority. "Sounds like you know something, then," he snarls, his grip on the staff constricting as his fist clenches, "Spit it out. I'll be merciful."

With the sorcerer's back turned you raise your arm. Your gaze remains fixed upon the convergence point of the two delicate lines, their path crossing at the very heart of the expanse that's the upper part of his broad back.

"I won't be," you declare; voice carrying a firm tone. A deft flick of your wrist – the current of cursed energy takes the desired shape before it's hurled toward your target. Slashing the air in front of you, aimed right at him.

His gaze veers to the side. And in a fraction of a heartbeat, he moves; executing a skillful sidestep. Body positioned to face you from the side, both hands now gripping his staff, aiming it at you; a glint of fervor ignites his eyes as they widen, locked onto the shipping container stationed behind Panda. The unforgiving force of your attack rends the shipping container apart, leaving two gaping slashes that could bisect a man.

You don't give him time to react properly.

The moment blood begins to stain his white robe crimson red from the nick on his shoulder, you lunge forward. Like a bull being waved a red flag. Feet imbued with your cursed energy, reinforced to ensure protection.

As you close the distance at a breakneck pace, you sense the distinct composition of his cursed energy. With your fingers curled around the staff, your eyes meet his, a faint grin playing at the corners of your mouth as you tug on his weapon with your full body weight. Lifting your legs off the ground, you use the staff as a fulcrum. His body feels resilient, akin to forged steel, against the soles of your shoes.

With the potency of your cursed technique coursing through your strike, the man is propelled backward, his body hurtling through the air. The Nyoi staff clings to the concrete. Left untouched upon the impact.

Flying through a shipping container, he quickly finds his footing. Stance shifting in response to your aerial maneuver. Legs splayed to establish a firm foundation, you focus your intent on targeting his jaw. Fists charged with cursed energy, you hit once; knowing how troublesome the push-and-pull effect of your technique feels once your flesh makes contact–

"Not bad," he manages to spit out, the corner of his lip stained red. A smile tugs at the corner of his lip as you sprint toward him.

The surroundings blur into a muddled backdrop, irrelevant in your unwavering concentration. The sorcerer becomes the sole axis, a focal point in a world that seems to slow to a crawl, even though only a fraction of a second has passed.

The tip of your foot touches his; a mere whisper of contact between two opposing forces.

"Not bad at all."

–he counterattacks. Hand darts forward. Grabs your wrist. With an economy of motion, he employs your own momentum against you. His grip becomes a pivot, briefly throwing you off-balance, diverting your forward surge into an unexpected spiral.

Fluidity. That's how you'd characterize his movements. A seamless transition from being a passive target to an active agent.

His chest brushes against your back as his right hand remains locked around your right wrist. Single-handedly swinging your body like a marionette, you exploit the vulnerability of your position. Using his grip as leverage to move backward, simultaneously grabbing hold of his bandaged left forearm and pulling. Crashing your body into his, redirecting the movement into a collision.

With a potent surge of intention, you force the prepared rejection and attraction effect within your clenched fist, propelling it like a bolt toward the rear of your skull. Teeth gritted, you throw your head back.

Crack.

He stifles a groan, a step taken back but footing resolute. A red trail paints his nose as you swivel to confront him. Pausing briefly to charge your energy again, you grant him a moment to speak. His expression freezes as he locks eyes with you

"You," he speaks up, his voice textured with the tang of iron as his tongue grazes his lips, "Have we met before?"

With your hand still tingling, the ripples of sensation spread up your arm, an electric current tracing a pattern beneath your skin. Your head sways subtly, dispelling the notion of a previous encounter. "Unlikely. You'd be history."

A chuckle dances from his lips, a response to your retort. "What's your name then?"

You share it deliberately, each syllable a measured beat in your dance around one another. He nods, his head tilting with self-assured grace. It's then that he takes his stance – feet planted firmly, palms outstretched, a grin playing on his lips.

"The name's Hajime Kashimo."

The words hang, a telltale echo–

Hajime Kashimo.

–recognition snaps into place when you repeat his name in your mind.

The Hajime Kashimo, the sorcerer whose score reaches a hundred points; a mark that sets him apart from any other Culling game player (except for the intricate Hiromi Higuruma). Hakari's elusive target.

And here, right before you, stands the man himself.

"Hey," you call out, a new determination blossoming, your stance embracing the challenge; retreat is no longer a consideration, "if I beat you, can I get your points?"

The corners of Kashimo's lips twitch, smile fading like a wisp of smoke carried away by the wind. Expression blank, with only his brows furrowed as he responds, "Sure, but you tell me everything y'know about Sukuna," his voice lowered to a dangerous undertone, a velvet threat veiled in words, "that is–if you're still alive."

He charges then. Doesn't spare a single consideration. The air crackles with tension as his presence engulfs you. His hands make contact – not with fists or strikes – but with the calculated pressure of his open palms. You feel the weight of his touch on your skin. Pressure on your left, then on your right ribcage.

"Don't disappoint me now," breath tickles your ear, voice a tantalizing, dangerous melody. His fingers anchor firmly onto your right shoulder, an assertive grip that both commands and unsettles, while his other hand exerts a calculated force on your left shoulder guard, propelling you into a spin.

Your training surges forth, a symphony of muscle memory and instinct harmonizing within you. With the resilience born of countless battles, you swiftly adapt your stance, shifting your weight to face him.

An annoyed huff leaves your now-bruised lips. You channel your own cursed energy, a torrent of power surging through your veins.

Detain an attack when it comes,–

Knees bending, body swaying to evade the incoming fist; your left hand grips his left wrist, fingers tightening with determination, followed by your right driving into its intended mark.

–and send it away when it retreats.

Your palm meets the solid plane of his chest with a resonant thud; pushes and then pulls him back to you before sending him away again; successfully pushing back against Kashimo's pressure. It's a momentary reprieve. One that sends the sorcerer tumbling back, makes him roll on the ground, lending on one knee.

"Here I thought we were just getting started," you quip with a hint of playfulness amidst the dance of combat. Moving swiftly towards the target. As Kashimo's force ebbs, you seize the opportunity, your muscles coiling like springs.

"You're getting me–" he barely makes it back to his feet before you're at him again. With enough cursed energy imbued into your foot, utilizing the momentum of your motion, leg rising up in a calculated kick – only for Kashimo to shift; a fraction of movement that proves decisive. His arm weaves beneath the arc of your thigh, a sinuous and serpentine maneuver that seeks to entwine and subdue. As his grasp tightens, his fingers snake around your throat, lifting you from the ground, suspending you momentarily.

"–quite excited," he concludes, his voice tinged with an eerie excitement.

Once the hand is freed from contact,–

A heartbeat's pause feels like an eternity. With your legs rendered weightless and no stable ground beneath you. Despite the vulnerable position, your mind remains steadfast, honing in on Kashimo's Achilles heel. His hands are preoccupied, his grasp unwavering but his neck and face exposed.

–carry out a strike with it.

Seizing the opportunity, you make the most of the opening. Your palms press against the sharp contours of his cheeks, each hand finding its place on one side of his face. In one swift and deliberate motion, you channel the wellspring of cursed energy that resides within you into your technique. The currents of your energy converge between your palms, weaving a tapestry of arcane force that manifests as a palpable vacuum, centered precisely where his head rests.

It's an intentional manipulation. One – if done right, that is – could even lead to a cataclysmic implosion. A violent severing of life from the body. But you don't want to kill him; not yet at least. You need the points. And so, you temper your approach, exerting only the necessary amount of energy to induce a sensation of compression.

As the feeling envelops him, Kashimo's expression shifts, a flicker of realization that dances within his eyes. He instinctively withdraws. Bandaged forearms push at your body, sending you hurtling backward; a testament to his strength and strategic finesse.

"You cheeky little thing," a bead of blood traces a path from the corner of his eye. At the same time, another droplet emerges from his nose.

This time it's him who doesn't let you regain enough control as he charges at you. His approach swift and unrelenting. The tables are constantly turning – now being his time to dictate the tempo.

Another dance of offense and defense plays out as the two of you clash once again. Each move a deliberate response to the other's actions.

Chase the movement of the opponent–

As the flurry of his strikes slices through the air, you find yourself navigating the ebb and flow with a synchronicity that borders on the sublime. With a hawk-like focus, you track the trajectory of his hand, your senses attuned to his every motion.

While his hits continue to swing through both empty space and meeting your body, a fleeting opportunity presents itself. With the precision of a seasoned sorcerer, you follow the path of his hand with your own, fingers closing around his forearm as it narrowly misses your cheekbone, the other digging into the open slash wound on his shoulder.

–to continue the attack.

It earns you a hiss. A "Tsk," coming from his damaged lips.

One fluid motion; one that belies your strength. You capitalize on the momentum of his own swing, utilizing your grip to exert control. Your foot surges forward with unbridled force, the sole of your shoe connecting with the vulnerable juncture of his knee.

Kashimo's reflexes kick in as he instinctively leaps back the moment your foot makes contact with his leg. His visage bears the marks of battle, a canvas adorned with streaks of red, the vestiges of blood from the prior exchange. A mirror to his appearance, your own face likely reflects a similar narrative. Marked by the intensity of the confrontation. By his pure, physical prowess. One that, even if you use all your cursed energy, you're certain you couldn't match.

The shadows of weariness begin to cast their subtle touch on you. A weight that tempers your movements and shadows the clarity of your thoughts. Each calculated step, each strategic strike, seems to bear an additional burden now.

Still, resolute, your unwavering determination fixated on Kashimo, persevering in the face of creeping exhaustion.

Then you take off.

With a surge of action, you propel yourself into motion. Pivoting on your heel, you sprint toward the towering container crane a mere few meters behind. Kashimo's quick thinking registers in the corner of your vision—a flash of white on your right, drawing nearer.

"Running so soon?"

His taunting words reach you.

"Just limbering up," you reply. Muscles tensing, you feel his energy almost brushing against your own. So, with a leap, you vault into the air. Fingers curling around your ankle.

Time seems to slow as Kashimo's grip tightens around your ankle, his fingers like a vice attempting to anchor you to the ground. The world spins around you, the crane's towering structure becoming a blur as your body is abruptly yanked back, denied the freedom of flight.

Instinct kicks in, your mind racing to find a solution. With a swift twist of your body, you channel the energy within, your cursed power surging to your fingertips. A burst of force courses through your arm, the concentrated energy propelling your free leg forward in a powerful kick. Your heel connects with Kashimo's face, the impact forcing his grip to release.

In the split second of regained freedom, your body soars toward the container crane.

Muscles strained, you manage to grab hold of a protruding metal edge, fingers gripping with an iron determination. The harsh clang of metal meeting metal reverberates through the air as your body comes to a halt, swinging slightly from the momentum before you propel yourself higher onto the structure.

A smirk tugs at the corners of your lips. The distance between you and Kashimo now a tangible reminder of your evasion. His frustrated gaze meets yours, the tension between you electric and palpable.

"Nice try," you retort, voice laced with a mixture of weariness and defiance. There's an undeniable satisfaction in defying his grasp, in proving your prowess even amid exhaustion. Without wasting a moment longer, you hoist yourself up more, using the crane's structure to propel your body upward. Your form melds with the steel as you ascend, a maneuver to gain the vantage point.

Gotta limit his movement to the minimum.

Kashimo's expression shifts, a glint of admiration piercing through his irritation. "Impressive," he concedes, the words carrying an unexpected note of respect, "but you can't run from me."

He follows your lead. The two of you ascending the crane in a synchronized rhythm

"I told you, Kashimo–," you declare, your voice echoing between the steel beams as you reach the crane's zenith, standing face to face on the narrowest edge.

Now standing face to face on the crane's uppermost beam, the narrow back reach providing only small support. Your breath heaves, each inhalation a reminder of the intense exertion. Across from you, Kashimo's gaze remains fixed upon you, his expression deceptively relaxed.

"–that I'm only stretching."

His eyes, however, tell a different story – a depth of focus that cuts through your form. Anchoring onto you with an unwavering intensity.

A mournful melody weaves through the metal lattice, the wind's haunting whistle creating an eerie harmony with the tension in the air. The gusts playfully tousle both your hair in the process. You steady yourself into a stance, your body a testament to both resilience and purpose.

"Plus I want those points," you remark, a hint of determination coloring your words.

It's then that you charge — cursed energy flowing through your body like currents of compressed emptiness. A void. Unyielding. Relentless. And pneumatic.

With a flick of your wrist, you send it slicing through the air. A blade of nothing. A thin line etches across his chest, traversing from ribcage to his already wounded shoulder — a mark of your earlier endeavor. Nowhere to dodge now that he's standing between two metal beams.

Or so you thought.

Kashimo charges. The white of his robe tainted with scarlet. The cut isn't deep.

He must've reinforced his cursed energy.

"Tsk," you utter. A flicker of irritation crosses your features. Agitated. With waning stamina, the dwindling reservoir of cursed energy depleted by your previous usage; this could've been your last-ditch effort.

The final move.

And it failed.

It makes him smile. A sinister twist of lips that morphs into a grin. Moving fast, his expression resembles one of a predator closing in on its prey. The ruby stain on his robe seems to accentuate his aura of danger, a stark contrast to the pristine white it once was.

As your body contorts and arches backward, you skillfully evade the incoming fist aimed at your face. Your unwavering gaze remains locked onto his intense stare. With your palm pressed flat against the ground of the crane, you swiftly raise your leg, delivering a targeted strike to the meat of his thigh.

But before your maneuver can fully unfold, his hand seizes your ankle, pulling you towards him and locking your leg in place as he maneuvers over your body. Kashimo's grin widens, a predatory glint in his eyes that triggers a ripple of unease down your spine.

As his fist whizzes past your face, you seize the opportune moment to mount a counterattack. His fingers, still harshly locked around your right ankle, you push and pull against his grasp. Leg successfully moving to close over his thigh, the other hooking around his hip.

Legs now firmly encircling his waist, you use every ounce of your strength to push. Destabilize the sorcerer. Break his foundation. Disrupt his equilibrium.

The outcome? Both of you soaring through the air and down the crane. Kashimo's form aligns perfectly with the approaching solidity of the dockside concrete.

A rapid free fall, gravity's pull unrelenting.

If you're not getting the points, he's not getting his answers either.

His eyes momentarily flit to the ground below. Unspoken recognition of the shared peril that binds you both. The realization dawns in his eyes, widening them momentarily, before his gaze settles onto your face once more – unimpressed. Jaded.

"Oops," you jest under your breath, fingers finding purchase on the fabric of his torn clothes. An unhinged smile on your lips, eyebrows lifting in a mix of audacity and exhilaration. The wind sweeps through, rustling your hair with a cool caress that contrasts starkly with the warm stickiness of blood on your skin.

"It's accumulated enough."

That's the only forewarning you get. In an instant, the atmosphere shifts; an electrifying tension that dances along your skin. You sense the already familiar tingling as the static charges from the man beneath you. Kashimo's cursed energy now gaining intensity.

His open hand thrusts towards your face, a surge of energy gathering at his fingertips. Only to get countered by your own palm. Flat against each other. Forcing a focal point of energy converges and resistance to form. As the push effect comes into play just in time with waves of electricity.

The crackling intensity escalates, its tendrils reaching out with an insatiable hunger. Only to be pushed back by your own manipulation acting as a steadfast wall. It's a symphony of sensations — the tingling of your skin, the hum of power in the air, the gradual crescendo of pressure between your palms. The vortex throbs and pulses, a living embodiment of the forces you both wield.

The thing is – The conductivity of the vacuum…depending on how you look at it, it behaves in two different ways:

Firstly, when you examine the motion of charged particles with a constant velocity within a vacuum, you encounter an interesting phenomenon. Unlike in other mediums, there is no opposing force acting against these particles. Consequently, maintaining a steady current across any surface within a vacuum demands no additional effort.

However, a contrasting phenomenon manifests when we consider the existence of free charges within conductors. When an electric field, denoted as E, is imposed upon a conductor, it triggers a flow of electric current. This internal charge movement gives rise to a current density described by the equation: J = σE, where σ symbolizes the conductivity of the material. Notably, within a vacuum, σ assumes a value of 0; hence, electric fields lack the capacity to spontaneously induce current flow.

In this context, the vacuum departs from the role of a conductor. Even materials known as insulators, which typically restrict the flow of current, possess conductivity values that are low but not completely absent.

As a result, the resistance exhibited by a vacuum effectively amounts to infinity—particularly when you define resistance through the lens of how charge carriers in a substance respond. Viewed from this perspective, you could liken the vacuum to an insulator, given the absence of charge carriers that are essential for the propagation of electric current.

So in the end, your innate ability functions like an antistatic force.

It should be enough to counter his attack. Neutralizing his endeavor and ricocheting it back to him. Only if his other hand, clenched into a fist, suddenly hasn't entered your line of sight, aiming for your jaw.

The controlled push-only effect falters. Then crumbles. The void's pull reclaims all that Kashimo had imparted, drawing it back with an insatiable greed.

"Damn you." It now comes down to the last aspect of your technique.

Implosion.

The energies within your vacuum field converge, collapsing inwards with a blinding intensity. A jarring impact against the back of your head – or it might be the ending of your fall. Everything's just confusing. Everything blurs into a disorienting haze of continuous events.

The unforgiving touch of concrete grates against your scraped back. Each breath, now shallow and ragged, causes pain.

Above, the sky stretches wide and boundless. Until the sight is blocked by a mop of cerulean blue hair. Two buns somehow still in place. Same-colored eyes staring at your form. Arms folded and a countenance marred by bloodstains and scrapes. Each leg positioned on either side of your hips before one presses against the flat of your clavicles.

"You're quite durable," Kashimo retorts, pushing his weight down on you, "that should've killed you right there."

"Heh," you manage a wry chuckle, your voice strained but defiant, "guess I'm full of surprises."

He raises an eyebrow, a flicker of almost-amusement dancing in his eyes. The world around you seems to blur at the edges, the strain of the plummet combined with the failed attempt of your innate technique taking a heavy toll on your senses.

"It's been a while since I've encountered someone who can keep me on my toes this long. Now tell me," your name rolls off his tongue in a taunting lilt, "where's Sukuna?"

The distant sounds of the dockside begin to fade, replaced by an eerie emptiness. Despite your unwavering determination, a tide of dizziness threatens to engulf you, and you struggle to maintain your focus on Kashimo's face.

"On vaca–"

The weight on your chest vanishes abruptly. Kashimo's foot makes fleeting contact with your cheek before returning to its original place.

"Don't play with me. Spit it out."

"Oi," a voice calls to your right. A voice you know; Hakari's, "It's not very chivalrous to strike a lady like that."

From here, everything dissolves into darkness.

The world sways, a disorienting dance of shadows and sensations. Light pressure settles on your stomach with sounds echoing faintly in the distance. A gentle, steady rhythm envelops you as if you're being cradled in a cocoon of safety. Your limbs feel weightless, as though the ground beneath you has transformed into a soft cloud that carries your burdens away.

Your mind struggles to tether itself to the present, grappling with the fragments of consciousness that slip through your grasp. Colors blur, merging into a hazy kaleidoscope of fleeting images. The arms that encircle you exude warmth thought. One that lulls you back to sleep.

Yet you manage to summon the strength to part your heavy eyelids. Through the haze, you see a blur of black and white on top of you. Head resting upon something firm and solid – a breastplate, you realize. The rhythmic cadence that envelops you is accompanied by the subtle rise and fall of breath, a heartbeat that resonates beneath your cheek.

"Panda," you murmur, voice a tentative whisper as you attempt to comprehend whether or not you're dreaming, considering the creature on you is now a size of an actual teddy bear.

The toy-sized Panda remains seated on you but looks your way, emitting a surprised yelp at the sound of your voice, before swiftly turning his gaze forward again, "Hakari, she's awake!"

Your vision – still blurred – manages to trace a figure walking at the edge of your peripheral sight – left arm missing, shirt gone (he's shirtless, you discern), and crowned with purple hair. Hakari. But if Hakari's walking in front of you. Then…

Lifting your eyes, you suddenly lock onto a fleeting sight of vibrant cyan hair. The once-pristine white attire now soaked and marred with splotches of vivid red, creating an unsettling contrast. Your heart skips a beat as the realization dawns upon you.

It's Kashimo who bears the weight of your limp form.

"She's gonna pass out soon again," his voice carries vibrations that travel from his chest to your cheek with his gaze fixed upon you.

And he's right as your body, weary and battered, succumbs once more to the embrace of slumber.

#moni writes #hajime kashimo #hajime kashimo x reader #kashimo x reader #hajime x reader #jujutsu kaisen #hajime kashimo x y/n #hajime x y/n #kashimo x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk imagines #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen fanfic

1K notes · View notes

amywritesthings · 1 year ago

Text

new year, new choso. / choso nye fic

pairing: choso kamo x f!reader ( jujutsu kaisen ) word count: 1.9k summary: Choso Kamo has never been to a New Year's Eve party. Who knew chaperoning his kid brother to Gojo's Jujutsu High party would end up like this? tags: new year's eve kiss, nye party fluff, choso is a sweet baby angel goth, and he's wearing a suit, alcohol, mentions of cards against humanity credit: dividers by @saradika dedicated to @nube55 , @sixpennydame , and @chishiyasan xo

welcome to the final day of the twelve days of amymas !!

New Year’s Eve parties are typically not your thing.

Loud music, bustling crowds, crowded rooms with crowded strangers — the whole debacle always sounded like a recipe for disaster.

Ieiri claimed that this gathering would be different. Small.

Albeit still a party by Gojo Satoru’s standards as his entire penthouse is littered with tacky balloons, confetti, and endless amounts of blinking year-end sunglasses, but tamer than anticipated.

It’s probably something to do with the fact that said gathering included his students from Jujutsu High.

The teenagers all crowd in the dead center of the living room excitedly playing Cards Against Humanity while Gojo's colleagues and friends mingle about the main floor.

(There’s just something about watching a cursed panda argue that his cards are accurate to the prompt as opposed to the obscene and filthy winners — ironically, a silent kid with cursed speech tattoos holds the jackpot of black cards.)

You were once destined to become a sorcerer yourself, but you’d hung it up for a simpler life. Not unlike your best friend, Shoko, but not as close to the Jujutsu world.

Then again, you never really get away from this life. Not really.

(Only thirty minutes left until the new year.)

“Did you need a refill?”

The gentle question comes out of nowhere to your side, breaking your concentration of the rowdy game.

When you turn your head, you’re immediately taken by a dark-haired man with a thin, black strip covering the bridge of his nose like a blush. He wears a maroon button-up, satin to the eye, and a dark suit jacket to compliment his pale complexion. His shoulder-length dark hair is in a half up-do, fixed hastily in a tiny bun at the crown of his head.

Your first thought? He’s beautiful.

Your second thought? You find yourself staring for too long, lips parted with an answer you’ve all but forgotten.

The man blinks back at you, shuffling in the uncertain silence.

“I, uh — sorry, I probably should have said ‘hello’ like a normal person and —”

“Uh, sure, I could walk with you?” you blurt, hating yourself for the way his eyes round with his own bout of confusion. “For a refill. I’m getting kind of stiff sitting against this wall.”

He’s a stranger, even if it’s technically a friend’s party.

You’ve been taught from birth that you should take care of your own drinks — but that doesn’t mean you can’t accompany someone as alluring as him to go grab a new mixed drink.

God knows Gojo bought out the entire liquor store despite how seventy-five percent of the party can’t drink and, the irony, Gojo doesn’t drink.

(An overachiever even in the art of hosting, Shoko joked before she dipped for a smoke break.)

Right.

You're dissociating.

Back to the guy in front of you.

“And hi,” you add lamely after a beat.

The stranger fights a smile, choosing to rush a small huff of air.

“Hi. Name's Choso Kamo,” he awkwardly introduces. “And yeah, I wouldn’t mind the company.”

He fidgets with a button of his dress shirt, popping it absently.

“Feels a little crowded here.”

"A little," you agree, gesturing for him to show the way.

Shoulder to shoulder you both walk to the drink table, not saying a word.

You note how the stranger — this Choso — keeps his eyes on the table of kids as they heavily debate which answer should win: the cold, dead fingers card dropped by a triumphant Kugisaki, versus the Daniel Radcliff’s delicious asshole card slipped in by a stone-faced Megumi.

“Dying to join in on the game?” you joke, trying to break the slow-building tension.

“Hmm? Oh. God, no. I’m not getting involved in that war.” The man blinks to you, his expression softening for a moment. “My kid brother’s over there.”

“Which one is he?”

Choso smiles small, clearly proud to point him out.

He fills his cup with a moderate amount of rum and soda, mixing it with a wooden stirrer.

“The pink-haired one. Yuji.”

Yuji isn’t hard to spot, not by a long shot.

He’s giggling between Megumi and Kugisaki, joyously playing moderator to the budding fight for who has the best card this round.

When you turn back to Choso, you see his smile has widened.

“He’s got his work cut out for him if he’s the Card Szarr this round," you say.

Choso laughs breathily and takes a sip. “Yeah, his friends are a little brutal. Good kids, but… opinionated.”

(As proudly displayed by the way the finalists shout at one another. Yuji laughs hard, shaking his head — only to pull a major upset by choosing the panda’s card instead.)

“He’s the only reason I’m here,” Choso adds belatedly, seemingly wishing to keep the conversation going. “I’m not exactly friends with the guy who threw this thing.”

“Who, Gojo?” you ask. He nods. “Me neither. My best friend managed to drag me out of my cave. Not sure if you know her — Shoko Iieri?”

Choso shakes his head.

“Can’t say I do. Then again, I could say that about everyone. I only really came so my brother and his friends had a chaperone home." He straightens once he's done filling his drink. "I take it you don’t normally do these things, either?”

“That’s nice of you,” you comment, filling the rest of your drink before clinking the glass to his. “And no, I kind of hate parties. Way more of a quiet environment sort of person.”

“You and me both,” he commiserates. “Believe it or not, this is my first New Year’s Eve out.”

“Really? Your first, ever?”

He nods. “It’s a little complicated. Jujutsu shit.”

The words make you accidentally bark out a laugh, startling Choso.

He warms to it, however, and laughs with you.

“Jujutsu shit is very much something I can’t seem to get away from,” you explain.

“Guess I found the one person at this party that gets me,” Choso admits with a dissolving chuckle, the black strip on his nose sprinkled with a gentle pink blush at his confession. “Yuji was pretty insistent on making it a big deal, given it’s my first real holiday outing. We spent Christmas just with the two of us this year — sorry, am I talking too much?”

You sip your drink and shake your head. “I like listening.”

It’s the truth: this man is interesting.

Clearly he’s not completely of this realm, that much you’re quite certain of, but he’s truly trying to be human.

Choso fumbles, but he’s honest about his experience.

It’s a refreshing taking on a world you’ve become so cynical about.

“I usually don’t talk this much,” he admits; his second confession of the night. He sighs and shakes his head. “Anyway, yeah. Christmas was solo, but he wanted to do this big party with his friends. Begged me to come along. New Year’s is an interesting idea, but the traditions… I don’t know.”

He squints at nothing in particular as he thinks.

“There’s so much I want to try now that I’ve got this life.”

“Like what?”

“Well, I have the drinking part down,” he tells you, glancing down at his glass and outfit. “I dressed up, though given what everyone else wore—”

Sweaters. Jeans. Nothing fancy — not like him.

“—I think I screwed that part up.”

“I think you look amazing, for what it’s worth,” you blurt, and he catches your eye with an appreciative glow.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, suits always look good.”

Choso grins, albeit briefly, yet the growing confidence lingers.

“Party games, though I’m happier to watch than play right now. Then there’s that New Year’s kiss thing?”

Oh.

He turns to you for confirmation, but you damn well know your face is on fire from the implication.

“When the clock strikes midnight, you’re supposed to kiss someone," he explains like you're new to this, too. "Make a wish or promise or whatever so that the next year is going to be better.”

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." He leans in a fraction further, dropping his voice to a murmur. “That's what I heard, anyway.”

You’re expecting him to have a but scoot into that sentence, but he pauses to search your face for the right or wrong answer.

“I’ve never had a New Year’s kiss,” you admit — it's now your turn to confess.

His brows furrow. “Really? Never?”

You shake your head. “Maybe that’s why my years have been so shitty lately.”

Choso nods with a grave understanding. “Could be.”

A few of the teenagers cheer, abandoning the game to turn on the main television.

The clock is only a few minutes until midnight.

Three, to be exact.

Suddenly the drink in your hand becomes your life line.

“I admit that I didn’t know if you needed a refill on your drink,” Choso pipes up, slow and careful. You turn your attention from the television broadcast to look at him. “I only came here to make sure Yuji had a good time with his friends, but then I saw you come in with that woman.”

Wait, he saw you come in?

When you say nothing, he sucks in a sharp inhale to explain himself.

“I spent an hour working up the courage to come talk to you. I couldn’t think of anything to say. You’re so damn pretty, and you seemed fine hanging out by yourself or with her, and so I thought — I mean, I needed a refill and some liquid courage — so it — do you get what I’m saying?”

No, no you don’t and yes, yes you do.

“You’re very pretty yourself,” you tell him without thinking, causing his eyes to widen. Yours follow suit, rounding like saucers. “I mean — yeah, as soon as I noticed you, I thought you were attractive—”

“People go out for coffee, right?” he interrupts as if he’s been waiting all night to ask. “When they think someone is pretty, they… go out for coffee or dinner or walks.”

One minute remaining.

Choso pauses to stare into your eyes, earnest and true.

“I’d love to go out for some coffee, or whatever dinner you want, or even just a walk. Maybe. Some time. If you’re… free.”

A date.

Forty seconds until the new year, and you’ve already scored yourself a date.

“We could do one of those things,” you murmur. Choso’s face brightens. “Maybe all of them. And we could start it off with…”

Twenty seconds.

“Making a wish?” the dark-haired man suggests when you trail off, rounding towards you so he’s closer.

For someone who says he has a lot to experience, you’re surprised that he seems to cage you in with experience.

If it wasn’t for his eyes begging you to confirm that this is what you want, then you’d think maybe he was a liar.

“Yeah. For a great new year,” you explain, lifting your chin.

Ten seconds.

“For a great new year,” he exhales with a promise, leaning in.

His hand reaches to gently cup your face as though mesmerized by how soft your skin feels beneath his palm.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.

The clock strikes midnight, and a pair of plush, timid lips gingerly press to yours.

You meet with an eager kiss, and you swear you feel Choso’s mouth curve into a satisfied smile against yours.

(Maybe next year really will be better.)

#choso x reader #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo x you #choso kamo fluff #choso x you #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x you #jjk fanfiction #jjk fanfic #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #choso fanfic #choso fic #choso kamo fanfiction #choso kamo fanfic #nye fic #twelve days of amymas

284 notes · View notes

hexalianrebel-blackfeathers · 9 months ago

Text

I don't like how correct this result is for how weird the test was. >w< I guess it was fun though. Very cute.

@rosileeduckie @flames-tstuff @cutesmokes @neplistens @gaybananabread @parker-fluff

@adamarks i've never heard of this one but i literally loved it sm djfhgfdjh

..... why was this so accurate hhhdgfdhfgdhsdsj. BARKS? they dogkinned me 😩

i would love to tag @kanene-yaaay , @bobo-the-part-time-clown , and @soda-pop-kandy-krush !!!

#a panda says a thing #a panda plays an ask game #a panda plays a tag game

47 notes · View notes

pandora-writes-one-piece · 5 months ago

Text

The Meet Cute - Ace's Story - 9

Source for pic

Firestarter 9

Word Count: 4410

Tags For The Whole Story: Fem!Reader, slight NSFW (It's mature, not explicit), slightly sugestive behaviour, flirting, jealousy, frenemies, sexual tension, miscommunication, unresolved tension, slight angst, slow-burn, romantic comedy vibes, alternate universe modern setting, swearing, drinking, fluff, feelings realisation, denial of feelings.

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: After moving away from the hustle and bustle of Grand Line City to help your father around the property following a horse-riding accident - and in the hopes of healing your broken heart after your asshole ex-fiancé cheated - you settle into the country calmness of the Calm Belt. You intended to have some alone time, to reflect and heal, but your childhood friend's older brother, Ace, seems to be there just to upset that fragile peace you're striving for. He's a flirt and a womaniser. But why does he also have to be so handsome and perfect? And how long can you resist his charms?

Notes: Almost at the end! I was planning on having only 10 chapters, but chapter 10 - which is in Ace's POV - is starting to get big. So maybe 10 and an epilogue? We'll see! Also, sorry if the next chapter will suffer a little delay, I will try to finish it soon, but life has been getting in the way! 😶

Tag List: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn

Masterlist for previous introductory chapters.

Days roll by slowly and you feel the happiest you've ever been. The only time you're apart from Ace is when he's working or when you're helping your father. You spend all the rest of your time together, hanging out, getting to know each other, and having so much sex.

You have only spent one night apart since you two hooked up. The night after you visited the fire station, he told you he was busy with work because the reports from the whole week had piled up and he was going to pull an all-nighter, so he couldn't be with you. The other nights were spent in each other’s company.

You slept with him at the fire station once and then he developed the habit of climbing your bedroom window so you could be together. Even though he usually arrives when you're already asleep - because of work - and it's not until you sense his hot touches and lingering kisses that you realise he's next to you.

And you both have to be very quiet, because Shanks would be very mad if he found you desecrating your childhood bed.

Finally the last day of the Jubilee arrives and it's Ace's day off work, so you decide to turn it into a proper date. You'll eat something there, play a few games - you've been eyeing a giant stuffed panda since the first day - maybe ride the Ferris wheel, and then Ace suggests driving to your spot for a privileged view of the fireworks at midnight.

And after…

Well, you'll both see where the night takes you.

You have already eaten some snacks at the food stalls and are now enjoying a piece of candy floss - which Ace keeps stealing from you - when a little kid bumps into your leg and falls on his butt. It takes you a bit to calm him down and find his parents and suddenly you lose sight of Ace.

Raising your eyebrow, you take another bite of your candy and wait in the same spot. He might have seen someone he knew and wandered off to say hello.

“Did you miss me, Firestarter? I've only been gone for five minutes.” He says from behind, near your ear as he lays a kiss on your cheek.

“Oh, barely even noticed you were gone.” Sticking out your tongue at him, you offer the rest of the candy and he happily takes it. “Why were you gone?”

“Business.” He chuckles softly and winks, letting you know that he will either tell you later or it's a surprise. “Let's go to the Ferris wheel.”

You take the hand he offers you and smile at the giddiness you feel from such a simple gesture. It's amazing how he can warm your heart just by holding your hand. Waiting in line for the wheel takes almost no time and you both hop into the booth, settling in together and sighing at the sight.

You're about to snuggle into his embrace when he takes something from his pocket and you raise your eyebrow. “Turn.” He instructs, rotating a finger to indicate you should turn your back on him. Curious, you do as he tells you.

His fingers are soft and warm as he moves little strands of your hair aside. You hear a small clasp and then he places a necklace on your chest, clasping it at the back. It's a locket with a heart.

“This is lovely, Ace. It's beautiful.”

His lips scorch your skin as he presses them against your nape. He murmurs an agreement and continues his worship down your exposed spine, leaving a trail of kisses and feather-like touches, creating a burning and aching sensation all over your body.

“Ace…” You whine and melt into his touch.

“You're so perfect.” He keeps murmuring sweet nothings against your skin and you turn around, enveloping his neck in your arms and losing yourself against his lips in a passionate kiss.

No outside view compares to the stars his touch reveals. The languid strokes of his tongue against yours trace out a constellation of your own, while his fingers caress your skin, igniting goosebumps like the fiery trail of a meteor.

The booth comes to a stop far earlier than both of you would like and you emerge flushing, panting and quite dishevelled. Both sporting equally goofy grins of fools in love.

No, that's not true. You know you're in love, but you have no idea how Ace feels about you.

Maybe you'll confess once the fireworks start? See how he feels about you. You know he cares for you, that much you can tell. And you're willing to wait, if he's not at the same stage as you are, since he did claim to want a serious relationship.

Yeah, you'll ask him.

As the resolution sets in and the midnight hour approaches, you start to make your way back to the car, but Ace gets called over by some friends and you tell him to go say hi as you browse some vendor stands.

“So you're Ace's new thing?” The voice is haughty and scornful and it takes a hot minute for you to realise that the person is talking to you.

“Excuse me?” You ask as you turn around and are greeted by a tall, elegant girl with a snide smile.

“Honey, don't play dumb.” She spits as she throws her hair over her shoulder. “Ace likes to have playthings to toy with from time to time. He gets tired of his one-night stands and dates a rando for a few weeks. Until he gets bored.” She laughs a high-pitched annoying laugh into her hand and stares at you from top to bottom, making you feel self-conscious about your casual outfit - denim overall shorts and a cute over the belly top. “Oh, and honey, you are certainly boring.”

The remark leaves a hot blush on your cheeks as it stings. This girl is poking her finger in the wound and digging, making it worse. She's the type of girl Ace would go for: tall, skinny, pretty. And you… you're just you. A normal girl, nothing too special.

“Enjoy your time with him, sunshine, soon enough, he'll trade up. I'm sure he's told you you're special, and that he's never met someone like you; that you were never just some random girl, right? Does he have a special nickname for you, too?”

You're pretty sure your teeth will snap from all the grinding they're doing. You want to tell this girl to go to hell because you know Ace cares for you. But what she's saying strikes too close to the truth for your liking. It's all too real. And that's when she hits you with the final blow.

“I bet he's taking you to his special place to see the fireworks, right? Think you're the only one, honey? Think again. Been there, done that. And here I am. Jilted, as you'll also be.” She gives another high-pitched cackle and you swallow the lump in your throat. There's nothing you can say to her. No comeback, no witty response. She's telling the truth, you're sure of it. “And think about it, honeybee, didn't he tell you the other night he was too busy to spend the night with you? You thought it was about work? Oh, honey…”

You practically freeze on the spot. Yes you thought he was busy with work. You didn't doubt it at all! But if she knew about this, could she have been the one to spend time with him? And here you thought that you were actually special, that this time he was telling the truth and really wanted to be with you.

Turns out you really are just another girl?

You see Ace coming back and the girl disappears just as quickly as she appeared. You're standing in the same spot, heart thumping against your chest, eyes prickling and throat dry.

“Hey, Firestarter, are you alright? You look like you've seen a ghost.” He touches your cheek softly and you recoil, a hurt look on your features. “What's wrong?” Ace eyes you with confusion.

But you don't quite know what to tell him. “I… this girl…” You take a deep steadying breath. “I… never mind.” Swallowing the huge lump that has formed in your throat, you reluctantly accept his hand.

Your head keeps replaying the words that girl told you, like a broken record, echoing them over and over. And every time your heart constricts harder against your chest as tears start to prickle the corners of your eyes. Once you reach the jeep, you feel Ace's worried look burning into you, yet when he asks you what's wrong again, you don't really know what to tell him.

You don't know if you're just making things up in your head or if what the girl said is true. What you do know is that your already fleeting trust in Ace has been rattled. And you feel more insecure than ever.

“Can you take me home, Ace, please?” Your voice is a mere whisper and you can't force your eyes to meet his. Are you really just another thing for him to play with when he's bored? Or are you actually as special as he makes you feel? You need time alone to process and think and you can't do it with him giving you worrying looks.

“You don't want to go see the fireworks? At our spot?” He sounds more sad than upset, but you shake your head at his words. A scornful expression on your lips as a dry chuckle rumbles through your throat.

“Is it really our spot, Ace? You told me it was special and you wanted to show it to me because I am special. And that's fine. But I'm not the only special girl you've had in your life, am I? I'm just your current special girl.” You're stubborn, and so are your tears. Yet you're not surprised when one breaks through the barrier you were constructing and falls down your cheek. “And that's also okay! You've had your life before me, and I can't blame you for that! Especially because I knew that before we happened.” A silly little sob escapes your lips and Ace stares at you, helpless. It looks as if he wants to hold you and comfort you, but you're giving him all the signs that you want him to stay away from you, so he does just that.

“I'm really confused at the moment, Ace. Please, take me home.” You climb into the passenger seat, vowing not to say anything else because you're feeling hurt and slighted and you know you'll snap and end up shouting and getting mad at Ace.

And you can't really do that. You told him the truth. He had a life before you reconnected. He could have dated, fucked, kissed half the town or the whole town. It was none of your business.

It still hurts, though. Because you really were starting to feel special. In your mind you had a made-up scenario where Ace had never felt for anyone the way he feels for you. That you're the first girl he ever fell in love with. Yet, according to that girl, there were other special girls before. And it should be fine, as you keep repeating to yourself.

But it's not fine.

Because you wanted to be special for Ace.

And you're not.

Ace climbs into the jeep and before starting the engine, his eyes try to pry some kind of information from you as to why you're behaving like this. You keep silent and face the window, effectively shutting him out. Sighing deeply he starts the car at the same time bright lights erupt in the sky, though neither of you cares to watch them now.

When Ace stops the jeep in front of your porch, you climb out immediately and he follows you. You're halfway up the stairs when he grabs your wrist to stop you. The burn in your eyes is getting stronger and you just want to open the dam and cry your heart out.

Whispering your name Ace wills you to turn. You do, reluctantly, but have trouble facing his gaze.

“Are you going to at least tell me what happened before you go?” He sounds so distraught. Enough to make you glimpse at his dark eyes, though your expression is still very sombre and pained.

“A girl came to talk to me, Ace. She told me you had a tendency to get bored of one-night stands when you found a special girl. You would give her a cute nickname, treat her as if she's the only girl in the world, take her to your special place and then, once you got bored again, you traded up. She made it quite clear that I'm not your type at all.” You couldn't help the sting and venom from dripping out of your words.

You had been mulling over the girl's words during the silent ride, growing angrier and angrier at them, at her, and at yourself. You were the gullible one for believing that someone would find you special.

“But you are special.” He says frowning and tugging at your wrist in a feeble attempt to get you to descend the steps and come closer to him. Yet you don't relent.

“Yet you can't deny what she said.”

He looks down and sighs. “I don't lie to you, Firestarter. You know that. You know there were other girls before, but I have never taken them to our place. And they might have been special if you want to call them that, but none of them compares to you.”

You do know that he doesn't lie to you. He told you that and you chose to believe it.

Though… “The other night when you said you were busy, did you meet with a girl?”

Ace grits his teeth and avoids your gaze as your jaw drops in surprise. He's not denying it.

“It's not what you think. She came by the station to-...”

You pull your wrist hard, away from him and he has no choice but to open his hand for fear of hurting you and he lets you go. “I don't want to hear this right now, Ace. I don't. I need to think.” You place your index and thumb against the bridge of your nose, trying to both contain a throbbing headache and the torrent of incoming tears. “I need some time apart to think things through and if you start to sputter excuses I'll just be angry and that's not what I want. I need to think about us objectively.”

You take a step back, climbing another step, still shaking your head and raising your hand to stop his words or his strides. To stop him. Period.

“Don't reach out, Ace. Don't. I'll speak with you when I'm ready.” You make the mistake of looking into his face before you turn and you can almost feel your heart shatter into tiny pieces.

He looks devastated.

Yet, so do you.

-*-

You barely sleep all night and each time you get up - often, actually - to get food, water or use the bathroom, you notice that Ace has a small light on in his room as well. He must be struggling to find sleep, too.

Every time you think about the look on his face, you feel like crying. It seems as if you are special to him, it really does. But are you, really? Or is it just wishful thinking?

Deep down you have trust issues that still need healing. Your ex cheating on you only brought them to the surface, but you know enough about trauma to realise that many of these issues stem from childhood and from feeling abandoned by Shanks. Although you hold no grudge against your father, you know you still haven't fully healed. Little triggers like what happened with that girl, are all it takes to get you spiralling out of control.

You know you need to deeply evaluate your feelings for Ace before taking this relationship further. Because there will always be girls from his past. Ace has been around. You knew that. So it's bound to happen.

Girls hold grudges like a miser hoards gold!

They will come and try to claim him, throw you off with hurtful words, and plant seeds of doubt in your mind. You need to decide now if you are willing - and strong enough - to face that every now and then.

And if the relationship you build will be strong enough to withstand it.

Sighing, you check your phone again. You're fighting hard against calling him. You've caught him writing something to you twice, seeing the speech bubbles appear. Yet, he hasn’t sent any text. Although part of you wishes he had reached out, another part of you is glad he's respecting your request.

You do need time to process.

Your heart, however, doesn’t. It keeps pounding relentlessly against your chest, reminding you it has already made its decision: it wants Ace. Desperately. It's a longing and a yearning so deep it almost aches.

You miss him.

You miss his scent, his touch, his voice and his kisses. You need him.

You cuddle the pillow he uses when he visits and take a deep sniff, filling your lungs with his scent and shed a few more tears. The only other night you've spent apart was…

The one the girl knew about. The one he was probably with her.

Sitting up you throw his pillow to the floor and cross your legs, finding your phone and unlocking it. You find Luffy’s contact and rejoice when you realise he's online. You had a vague idea he was at the firestation today, but this confirms it.

You call, and it rings twice before he answers, greeting you with your name. “How are you?” He sounds worried. Has Ace spoken to him already?

“Hey, Loof.” Your voice sounds hoarse and raspy from all the crying. “I'm… feeling shitty.” You chuckle softly while fiddling with your ankle bracelet.

“Ace told me you needed some time apart from him.” He sounds serious, which is so rare that you sit up straighter. “Want to talk about it?”

“Hmm, hmm.” You mumble between a sob and a hiccup.

He calls your name again with a sigh. “Ace really likes you. I've never heard him speak about someone the way he does about you. He even told Grandpa you two were getting serious. He never tells Grandpa anything!”

The pressure on your chest builds up and starts to expand. Does he really think you're special?

“Loof… this girl came to me at the festival. She knew Ace couldn't be with me the other night. She implied she was with him and when I asked him, he didn't deny it.”

You sound miserable. You can't help but think that perhaps you're the one keeping yourself from being happy. You've had that thought before. When you discovered that Ichiji was cheating on you, your first thought was that it was your fault. That you deserved to be cheated on because you hadn’t tried hard enough.

And now, your mind instantly goes to the same place. Ace spent the night with another girl because you just aren't good enough for him. You're not what he wants in a girl.

Completely ignoring everything he tells you and how he acts towards you. Because he keeps acting devoted and dedicated to you, and you're too dumb or too self-absorbed in self-pity to realise it.

Perhaps it's time to stop feeling sorry for the misery you create for yourself and start taking responsibility for your actions.

Ultimately, you have to be the one responsible for your fate.

“I know who she is. Ace was with her for a little while, but it wasn't that serious. I didn't even meet her officially… Anyway, she did come by the station the other day, when Ace was working. He was talking to you on the phone when she came looking for him. The station issn’t exactly private if you're not in the rooms, and he wasn't. Maybe she overheard the conversation between the two of you?” He exhales your name on the other side. “She was barely here for five minutes. Ace told her off and she left pouting. I'm sure that whatever she told you was meant to try and split you up.”

You're seething now. Obviously it was meant to split you two up! She couldn't know about your trust issues, but anyone who's dating Ace has to have them. He's a player. There will always be a nagging feeling about other girls he's been with. So it wasn't exactly a shot in the dark. She baited the hook and you swallowed it whole.

You can bet she's just waiting for you to blow up your relationship - or beginnings of one - to smithereens so she can pick up Ace's pieces and help him get over you.

“Fucking hell, she will!”

Luffy laughs on the other end. A short shishishi that gets you laughing along with him. “That's the spirit!”

Tears are still streaming down your face. But you might've reached a decision. You're going to take that leap of faith and give all of yourself to Ace. No reservations. You need to accept him for who he is.

And, more importantly, you need to trust him.

The previous plan will have to go back into action. Tell him you love him. Maybe you can build from there? Because you do love him. And there's no bitch in the world that's going to tear you apart like that.

“Thank you, Luffy. That was enlightening. I needed that.” You sigh into the phone, your voice much lighter.

“Anytime! You know, I really like my dumb brother.” And he laughs again, making you chuckle with him. “I've never seen him as happy as he's been these last few days. So talk to him soon, will you?”

You promise to do it first thing tomorrow since sleep is finally claiming you, and you say your goodbyes to your friend. Before going to bed, you pick up Ace's pillow from the floor and check out his window - the lights are now out.

Okay, you'll both get to sleep on it. Tomorrow is a new day.

-*-

Yet, tomorrow begins with a raging storm. There's pouring rain everywhere and you rush to help Shanks with the animals. Both of you are working hard and pulling the hay bales inside the barn, because the forecast did not foresee this deluge, and the bales were fine outside.

Shanks tells you he tried to call Ace to help - your heart somersaults - but he was heading to the station to help since there were floods all over town.

Well that's just another thing the storm manages to hinder. Your encounter with Ace. You were planning on heading to his house as soon as you helped Shanks, to talk with him, yet you can't do that now because he's not there.

And there's no use in calling him. For two reasons, actually: one, he's probably super busy and two, the lines are acting up because of the storm and the service is down.

So you decide to wait out the storm.

Yet, the afternoon rolls by without any sign of the storm stopping, and now you're overly anxious. Ace is still not home - the jeep is out - and you need to speak with him. You don't think Luffy would've shared your conversation with his brother so Ace is probably still feeling devastated by the way you parted yesterday. You feel responsible. And you miss him so much.

You try to call him again and by the third time, you finally get through.

Ace sputters your name with surprise. “Ace!” You can barely hear him and you're pretty sure he can barely hear you. There's lots of static and the thunder and pouring rain don't help at all. “Ace! Can you hear me?”

“Barely!” He says something else but you can't understand it.

“Are you at the station?”

“Yes.”

“I'm going to meet you there! We need to talk.”

You're not sure he heard you at all, but you think you hear him saying for you to stay home. Probably because of the storm. Yet, it seems like the rain has finally relented so what better time to go to him than now?

You're not quite sure if he hears you or not, but you need to get this off your chest before you go. “Ace, I love you.”

You hold on a second but are only greeted by static. He might not have heard you.

Sighing, you get the car keys and send a text to your dad - even if you don’t know if he’ll get it or not, so you’ll leave a note in the kitchen as well. Shanks is over at Benn Beckman helping him because the roof of the barn broke and they need to fix it because all the animals are getting wet. Shanks promised he would not get on top of the roof, in case his back gave out, but he's still helping out any way he can. So you let him know you are going out so he doesn't worry.

You've gotten into the habit of patting your car before turning the ignition and it responds well to praise, so that's exactly what you do before starting the engine and it doesn't let you down.

Grinning, you make your way to the station, going well under the limit because the road is wet, slippery and the rain reduces your visibility significantly.

You can't wait to see Ace. You need to feel him against you. There's an unending desire to feel his lips moving in tandem with yours, his tongue caressing your own as his hands explore you. The stupid silly grin doesn't leave your face.

Not even when you spot the tiny black cat in the middle of the road and you swerve right to avoid hitting the poor thing.

Not even when your car slips and slides as you push the brakes.

Not when the deafening sound of metal crashing, windows breaking and the sickening crunch of broken bones fills your ears.

It all happens too fast.

Then darkness descends just as quickly.

#one piece #one piece x reader #op #x reader #ace x reader #ace x you #modern day au #portgas d ace #the meet cute #portgas ace x reader #Spotify

96 notes · View notes

hexalianrebel-blackfeathers · 2 years ago

Note

It turns out I still love my work because it's very hard to pick just 3. >w<

Tabletop [Ao3]: It's DnD with tickles, guys; I love it. >w< I feel like no one talks about DnD with tickles. Retconning it into the Power of Laughter timeline pretty much cemented it into my heart, but I love all the characters in and out of the game.

No Flash Photography: Getting to write this was how I became friends with the wonderful @rosileeduckie ! That's merit enough for me, but I adore the character interaction taking place over the chess game. The way the tension builds with every move. I don't know if it reads as well as it felt when I wrote it, but I long to get in that headspace again. >w<

How to Stop a Quirk [Ao3]: I know it's not done; I don't care. I love it. Writing all the characters; writing all the fight scenes; puzzling out how Quirks interact with each other and how they'd react to tickles and how the characters themselves work around it all; I can't get enough. >w< The entire AU is my favorite category for my Hero Academia stories.

To those who came before us and just some great friends: @hypahticklish, @wordstrings, @nhasablogg, @homunculuslover, @a-fluffer-nutter, @littlelovelyspiderling

I’m starting a tag game so hAh take that >:D

Anyways it’s time for some self love sooooo

List your top 3 favorite works (art fics whatever u want)

AND WHY :D gotta make sure to do the why👹no self deprivation here🕺

Feel free to rope anybody else into this chain we gotta self lovo 🤸‍♀️

GHOST! This is so cool oh my goodness! Let's make a chain! >:D

1.) Operation WereTiger: BackFired!: One of my favorite works for Bungo Stray Dogs! It combines all my favorite things: Lee!Dazai, Atsushi's paw hands, collaborating with friends, and absolute mayhem! Nym (@intheticklecloset) is a fabulous writer- and getting an opportunity to collab and befriend her makes this fic extra special in my book ^w^

2.) Girls Night: I adored writing this fic ajlkjarkjeajkrakj It's not often I get the chance to write Shinobu and Mitsuri's friendship, nor do I get the chance much to write something so Muichiro-centric. This fic covered both! :D Getting to write these three having a sleepover and bonding brought me so much joy alejkrakjrekj I just love writing sleepover fics!

3.) Phone Chaos: Lookie, it's our collab! :D I love collabs, can't y'all tell? Alongside that- Spy x Family is one of my favorite anime/manga! The characters are hilariously cute, the story is funny and intense, and I adore these two as a couple so much. Also writing Yor with her face covered in chocolate to go alongside your art with her covered in chocolate is beyond funny alkjrkeakraekrjk

No pressure tags: @rachi-roo, @gladdygirl18, @tklpilled @danibby @otomiya-tickles, @duckymcdoorknob @myreygn @ticklish-n-stuff @intheticklecloset @skribblz @helloitsghost (That's right- I'm tagging you too :P) + Whomever reads this and wants to play! :D

#tag game #I could go on forever about most of my things #a panda says a thing #a panda plays a tag game #panda's friends

85 notes · View notes

angelismmm · 2 years ago

Note

BLADE W A SO WHO PLAYS WITH SILVER WOLFFF 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

୨ ୧ pairing. blade x gn!reader

୨ ୧ a/n. giggles, me personally i think me and silver wolf would bond over games explicity, and i live for dat!!

୨ ୧ warnings. none?!1?1!1?1!!1

he's over the moon, he won't show it tho

his pookie wookie cookie dookie boo boo bear bonding with his little sister?!!?!? oh my god he's in love all over again

he likes to follow you two around the arcade when he can, like he just buys more coin thingys so you can play more arcade games with her!

he loves just tagging along to see his two favorite people getting together

likes to think sometimes that you and him are like her parent figures

just lovingly looks at the both of you

OOO BUT HE JOINS EVERY ONCE IN A WHILE!! and hopefully whenever he wins you still see the little ghost of his smirk as he gives the big panda plushie over to silver wolf along with all the other prizes he won

no doubt he always wins every arcade game he plays!! literally blessed with luck

silver wolf is so amazed by it too, telling him he should play a bit more with the both of you when he can, yet he refuses

joins in when silver wolf or you aren't doing too good at the claw machine, and magically he gets you that cute dino plushie you both wanted!

just hangs an arm around your waist while you both follow silver wolf around pleasefjsjdjfj <333

he's just so heart eyes over you bro believe me, his gaze is so intense its something you can sense cuz he just admiring you from outside the arcade

the way you both bond perfectly is like a dream to him cuz ik silver wolf is not too social, and the way you both just immediately get along warms his heart</3333

i just KNOWW blade would be carrying all the prizes you both win at the arcade

something short to keep u guys fed 🫶🫶

#hsr scenarios #hsr x you #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail scenarios #honkai star rail #star rail x y/n #star rail x reader #star rail x you #hsr blade x reader #blade x y/n #blade x reader #blade x you #blade hsr

549 notes · View notes

bigbangclappin · 2 years ago

Text

Baby Daddy Gangster 2

Summary: Ding Dong! Your baby daddy is back and wants in your life and your daughter’s. And with that smile you might as well shove the door wide open.

Paring: Nakamoto YutaXReader(1st Person POV!)

Warnings: Cursing! Baby Daddy themes, mentions of smut, toxic relationships, Mafia/Yakuza themes (It’s not glamorous in real life folks!)

Word Count: 2,382

A/N: GUYS IT'S FINALLY HERE! PART TWO! I hope it's enjoyable! I loved writing it! Let me know if we want a part three!

Tag List: @iveivory @champagne-n-yachts @dilfjohhny @junglewoos

Part one

Unknown number: Is Yuki wearing a 3T or a 4T?

You: Who is this?

Unknown number: Really baby?

I shook my head in exasperation, throwing my phone into my back pocket. The man was relentless to say the least, he did earn that title fair and square.

What could I have possibly been thinking back then?

Clearly sexual gratification was worth more to me than my hypothetical child’s future, because now here I am. Stuck with a gangster for a baby daddy who didn’t understand the phrase get lost.

I shrugged my shoulders, well there was nothing I could do to change who Yuki’s dad is now. I just had to live with the consequences of my actions.

Which wasn't all that bad considering my daughter was healthy and happy, I grinned as she played with her dolls on the floor. She did resemble her father, with her pretty smile and expressive eyes, she received all the best qualities of Yuta it seemed.

“Mommy?” Her sweet little voice asked from where she sat on the floor.

“Hmm?”

“Guess what?”

I giggled because she loved to play guessing games ever since she could speak in almost full sentences. I never had the heart to discourage her playful chatter despite her daycare teacher’s warning about how it was becoming disruptive in class.

“What?” I replied casually, taking a sip from my drink.

“I met Daddy today.”

My entire mouthful of beverage was spewed across the room and on to my daughter who whines.

“Mommy ew!” She cried, wiping her little arms in disgust.

“Oh Yuki I’m so sorry sugar,” I snagged some paper towels from the kitchen and began cleaning her off.

“But what did you mean by you met Daddy?” I asked keeping my tone as even as possible. “You don’t have a Daddy, remember?”

She shook her head defiantly, her dark hair flying every which way, “I do have a Daddy mommy! And he’s pretty! And look he gived me a present!!”

My heart was racing as she flew to her small panda backpack. She rummaged through it for a moment before wobbling her way back to me with something in her tiny hand.

When the gold glinted in the light I squeezed my eyes shut tightly, he really went behind my back. I shouldn’t have been surprised, I shouldn’t have felt hurt either. Yuta was resourceful and clearly he used those resources to his advantage to find Yuki’s school.

The tiger bracelet in my daughter’s hand mocked me; after everything I had done to keep that God damned insignia out of her life he literally just dropped it in her hand like nothing.

Once a fucking bastard always a bastard.

It took all I had in me to not snatch the piece of gaudy jewelry out of Yuki’s hand and melt it in my fireplace. I took a very, long and deep breath in.

“Yuki, how did you get this?”

“I told you Mama,” She exasperated, “Daddy gived it to me”

“It’s gave love,” I corrected, “Where did he give it to you?”

She put her finger to her lips in thought, “Mr. Lee tooked us outside to play and dis really big car was dere. Den a big scary man got out, he was not nice Mommy, but den Daddy got out and yelled my name–”

“Yuki, that's dangerous, we've talked about not speaking to strangers!” I scolded her, literally stunned. My daughter was so trusting she basically ran into her father’s arms without question.

She recoiled at my tone and began playing with the little trinket on the bracelet out of nervousness, “But Daddy isn’t a stranger…”

I didn’t mean to scoff at my child but she had never met her father once, I know Yuki was sweet and that she was young but I couldn’t understand why she went against what I taught her for a man who is a complete stranger to her.

“Yuki,” I sighed, “You don’t have a daddy Sugar.”

Her cheeks turned red with a huff, “I do too!”

I put a hand to my forehead ready to end the man I had loved for most of my life. This is exactly why I wanted to keep him out of her life.

“Where was Mr. Lee?” I decided to change my questioning to keep her from getting any more upset.

“He came over after Daddy gived-gave me my present.”

“Did he say anything to…Daddy?” I literally had to swallow the bile rising in my throat.

It took Yuki a moment to respond before she said, “Mr. Lee picked me up and asked Daddy who he was.”

“Anything else?” I pushed knowing it was a little unfair to expect her to remember everything the men said or did but my three year old was my only witness.

“Ummmm yeah!” she said excitedly, “Daddy asked Mr. Lee why are you holding my daughter? And then Mr. Lee said dat I don’t have a daddy. But den Daddy showed Mr. Lee a piece of paper and Daddy told me that he would see me and mommy later and got in the big car again. ”

Oh Jesus Christ. He never changes. Over possessive asshole and what the hell did he show Yuki’s teacher? Such a jerk off move to use my kid as a way to exert some weirdo caveman claim on me.

This was a mess I did not agree to and it was stressing me out. I had no immediate fix to remedy Yuta throwing himself into Yuki’s life. I didn’t even have a clue on where to begin to unravel everything my baby daddy put into her head.

“Thanks baby,” I patted her head, “Go wash your hands, dinner is almost ready.”

“Okay mommy.” she scooted off as I made off for the kitchen.

I never quite made it there because there was a knock on the front door. I sighed I didn’t want to deal with any door-to-door missionaries or salesmen. I went to check the peephole and saw my worst nightmare standing there.

Looking more delicious than the last time I had seen him. Tight ass tshirt hugging his pecs and abs. His organization’s tattoos were covered by the jacket he wore all but the ones on his neck. That same damn tiger he gave to Yuki was peeking over his shirt collar like a damn slap to my face.

Against my better judgment I opened the door. I had a bone to pick with him about going behind my back.

“So you’re a stalker now?” I asked with a strong bite.

He flashed his panty dropping smile at me as he smashed the cigarette he was smoking out under his fancy loafers.

“Only for you baby,” he poked at me with that cheeky tone, “And of course our beautiful Yuki.”

I frowned in anger instantly, “You had no right to go to her school Yuta.”

He tsked, “Why not? Because you said so? Last time I checked I never signed over my parental rights.”

“Are you serious right now?” I gasped in shock, “You abandoned us not an hour after she took her first breath! You never came out of the shadows to do anything with her! As far as I am concerned you did sign off on any kind of rights or relationship.”

His cheeks flushed red which meant he was starting to lose his temper. A real shocker.

“You have no idea the threats I was facing at work, I abandoned our family so that you and our daughter wouldn’t get hurt or worse.”

“Why weren’t you honest with me then? I would’ve understood if it came down to her safety—”

“You’re full of it babe you gave me a hard time whenever I uttered a single word about the family. If I had told you the truth at the time you would’ve ran and I would have never been able to keep tabs on you and Yuki like I’ve been able to since she was born. At least this way I could be with you during your pregnancy and keep you both safe even if that meant I couldn’t be with you after you gave birth to her.”

My head was spinning and I felt like I was being gaslighted, “When I told you I was pregnant you told me to get an abortion.”

He let out a hum, “And when you slapped me across my face that was the end of it. I knew how serious you were about wanting her. I never said another word about it.”

“You’re literally insane…” I mumbled running an entirely confused hand through my hair.

“No doubt about that babe you knew that when we got together back in school. Now that we’ve cleared the air may I please come in and see our daughter? I brought gifts…and since you chose to be petty and ignore me about what size she is I also brought gift receipts.”

I finally noticed the large men standing off to the side with armfuls of gift bags, large, small, medium, mostly girly in prints and pinks. Oh my god he’s bribing my kid, he’s seriously bribing my daughter.

“Yuta do you realize how confusing this must be for her? Like you were nonexistent in her three years of life and just want to pop in with presents and pretend like you were always there? That’s not fair to her, just because you’re her biological father doesn't automatically mean you have a relationship with her. And while we’re on the subject, what the hell did you show to Mark?”

Yuta ticked his jaw to the side and licked his lips; he was angry for sure.

“Who the fuck is Mark?” He snapped at me some of his cool demeanor flying out the window.

Jealous. Again. Over someone who watches Yuki. Utterly ridiculous.

“Yuki’s teacher, remember?” I bit back, “You shoved something in his face, what was it?”

“Her fucking birth certificate,” he said with a clenched jaw, “So you’re on a first name basis with all of her teachers then?”

“Nakamoto Yuta,” I spat, “Enough with your petty jealousy it’s irritating and irrational and also unwarranted.”

“Apparently it isn’t if you’re on a first name basis with her teacher.”

I was 1000% over his childish attitude. This wasn’t the first time we argued over his tendency to get jealous.

“Have a lovely evening Yuta,” I started to close the door but one of the beefy men blocked me from slamming it in my baby daddy’s face.

Yuta snapped at the man in Japanese but looked back to me, “Let me in to see our daughter (Y/n).”

“I didn’t bow to you three years ago and I’m certainly not doing it now,” I growled at him, “You can’t snap your fingers and expect me to jump for you like a dog.”

He ran a hand through his dark shaggy hair in anger, “I expect you to let me have a relationship with our daughter.”

I folded my arms across my chest in means of frustration and protection, “What’s your endgame here Yuta?”

“There’s no endgame here (Y/n) but wanting a relationship with Yuki.”

“Why now though Yuta?” I questioned him with my head tilted.

He opened his mouth to answer when a small cry came from behind me. “Daddy!”

I blocked my daughter’s view by placing my legs in front of the small slot made by the door, “Look what you’ve done. How am I supposed to explain to her that you left when you inevitably leave again?”

The look on his face was a mixture of anger and hurt with his jaw clenched he said, “What I did to keep you and Yuki safe should not be what you hold against me (Y/n), I’ve done a lot of things to warrant your resentment but this is not one of them I promise. You chose me too, you know? It takes two people to have a baby.”

“It’s not my fault the condom broke Yuta…” I growled quietly and my eyes shifted toward my elderly neighbor who was out walking her Poodle. Apparently I wasn’t quiet enough since she gave us an affronted look on her way by.

“It’s your fault you weren’t taking the pill babe,” he said just as angry, “We can point fingers all we want but it’s a little late for the blame game don’t you think? All I want is to see our daughter. Regardless of our past, Yuki has the right to a father.”

My daughter began swatting my legs so she could get to Yuta, “Mommy I wanna see Daddy. Move please!”

I scoffed at how rude my daughter was, “Yuki, that's not how we ask to get by, telling someone to move is impolite.”

“Sorry Mommy but Daddy’s here!”

“Sugar I’ve already told you that you do not have a–”

“(Y/n) don’t you dare finish that sentence. You’re the one that’s going to confuse her. Come here my baby girl, I brought you something!”

My blood boiled as I watched my baby daddy pick my little girl up and kiss her cheek while letting her peek into one of the large gift bags. I couldn’t resist the little smile that poked through at her excited squeal, her happiness was contagious.

My stomach may have done a flip when I noticed the soft look on my ex’s face as he helped Yuki rifle through the clothes he had bought her. It was probably just wishful thinking on my part, but seeing him hold my child just felt natural.

I awkwardly made eye contact with another neighbor who lived across the way and even with the distance I could see the judgmental look on his face. I sighed, finally relenting to let the men in. I didn’t want anyone to report me to the landlord on suspicious activity.

I pushed the door aside and motioned to Yuta, “Come inside, people are staring.”

He gave me that gorgeous smile that got me pregnant in the first place, “Thanks baby.”

As I allowed his guards inside I knew I was going to live to regret my decision but what could one visit hurt?

A lot.

It could hurt a lot.

#nakamoto yuta #yuta nct127 #kpop scenarios #bigbangclappin #nakamoto yuta angst #nakamoto yuta smut #nakamoto yuta imagine #nakamoto yuta mafia au #nct mafia au #yakuza au #nct 127 angst #nct au #nct gang au #nct 127 au #kpop angst

820 notes · View notes