#also i hope its clear that im not trying to like Call You Out or anything here akdfgklds
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starwikia · 10 months ago
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suicide cw
look i have been in this area before mentally. it sucks and i wouldn’t wish this on anyone. but, and this is going to sound callous, but i don’t feel any sympathy for james somerton. even if i hope he’s like. not dead. But thats all the amount of goodwill im willing to give him. The more i think about this really, the more angry i am. 
ngl this entire situation is another example of how white people weaponize their mental illness to avoid consequences. Im seeing it in real time.
this man has a continuous habit of using self-harm as a get-out-of-jail-for-free card. in both of his apologies, he has worded his supposed attempts in ways that were clearly meant to guilt people who displayed his plagiarism and overall horrendous history of racism and misogyny. i say supposed because, while i’m not saying those are lies and this would he such a fucked up thing to lie about that i don’t want to think he has, unfortunately, it’s been proven again and again that his word can’t be trusted, as he’s known to lie to try get out of consequences. Hes a proven liar. him lying about this is actually the best case scenario, because no one should go through this entire situation, wouldnt wish this on anyone, but you can only do this so often before people stop sympathizing with you. is this callous? Yeah, but like. I’m actually fucking angry he cant straight up take no as an answer. that this is how he reacts realizing he cant be one of the Cool Kidz™️ on youtube anymore. he acts like he DESERVES a career, like its not a privilege hes lost due to his own actions.
He lied about apologizing and forgiving people, he lied about giving the money to hbomberguy to give to ppl he ripped off (yknow, instead of doing it himself), he lied about the jessie gender situation and rewrote the narrative to make it so he isnt the bad guy, and hes the victim all along actually!
you can’t tell me that supposed last message of his isn’t meant to be a 13 reasons why esq attempt to deflect the blame “look i’m going to kill myself and it’s all YOUR PEOPLES FAULT for not letting me achieve my DREAM of being filmmaker IN PEACE!!! I just wanted Nick’s (the guy who I have thrown under the bus again and again) portfolio up!! Im just being a good friend dont you all FEEL BAD” he refuses to take ANY ACCOUNTABILITY of any of his actions and he IS STILL trying to shove the blame over to other people again.
it’s also pretty ironic people are like “uhhh well hbomber’s fans harassed him!!!” like hbomber outright told people NOT to HARASS JAMES!!! ALSO acting as if james doesn’t have a very real documented history of STRAIGHT UP sending his fans to harass and threaten smaller creators, more notably women, trans, and bipoc creators. especially after he’s stolen typically very personal anecdotes so he could profit from them. so why can he do it but the second people are like “hey this guys an actual piece of shit.” and he can’t handle it suddenly people are trying to white knight his shit? like no he doesn’t get that. he doesn’t get that at all just because he couldn’t handle the consequences of his actions. 
what? were supposed to stay quiet about a man profiting off of other minorities because he wanted to be the spokesman for all gay people? people tried to solve this on a smaller, more private scales for YEARS and he kept doing it. it was clear that the giant public video was the ONLY way to get people to notice. HE WOULDVE GOTTEN AWAY WITH STEALING 87 FUCKING THOUSANDS WORTH OF DOLLARS. HE CANT HANDLE THE FACT HE CANT GET AWAY WITH IT. 
am i supposed to feel bad for the guy who basically threatened a trans woman with the police? i don’t care what anyone says, it’s so fucking obvious that he threatened jessie by implying he was getting the police involved in their conflict. what am i supposed to act like that didn’t happen? are we supposed to pretend like he didn’t glorify nazi’s and outright said that gay people made up a good chunk of the nazis? That he didnt say america joined ww2 bc they were jealous of the NAZIS. WHAT WOULD POSSESS YOU TO FUCKING SAY THAT. but then? He gives women (not even women most of the time, he misgenders nonbinary ppl constantly) shit for writing mlm. are we supposed to act like he doesn’t straight-up sees himself superior and better than people of color and steals their works to put himself on a pedestal? Are we supposed to act like he didnt spit on our elders by saying “only the boring gays survived aids” like man! Fuck you! He BLANTANTLY MAKES UP HISTORY TO PUT HIMSELF ON A PEDESTAL!! HE ACTIVELY TRIED TO REWRITE LGBT HISTORY TO SUIT HIS FUCKED UP NARRATIVES!
yes this sucks ! no one deserves this but no one should be making him a martyr. Thats what he fucking WANTS! He wants to be immortalized as a victim!! (again, supposedly, it was reported hes alive but its not confirmed).
The shit he got isnt near the amount of fucking callous behavior hes done again and again. Again, to drill this point, EVEN IF HE DIDNT CALL THE POLICE HE THREATENED A TRANS WOMAN INTO THINKING HE DID!!! The fact he tried to use a head injury to justify years of the outright ghoulish shit fucking astounds me. Why the fuck did anyone in his life thought it was a good idea to let him TRY to come back. in the end, he had options. he didn’t need to try to make a comeback. HE DIDNT NEED TO FUCKING LIE OR IGNORE THE SHIT HE WAS CALLED OUT ON the reality is, he wanted to come back thinking he could shove it under the rug, was told that no dude, you’re not allowed to be a youtuber anymore. you’re done. you need to move on and went full nuclear. it’s not on anyone’s hands but his own. HES BEEN DOING THIS TO HIMSELF!! But nah man we cant call his shit out bc hell may or may not kill himself. Fuck the other minorities who have the same issues but worse and sometimes BECAUSE of him. This is going to SUCKKKK so bad when other ppl, specifically white gays, are going to weaponize this shit to get away with their stuff.
#warning: do not read this post if you want me to be nice to james somerton. i am extremely mean in this post.#before anyone accuses me of shit i legit never contacted him myself or anyone involved. i am someone who witnessed this behavior repeatedly#again. i hope hes alive and well. the fact is him lying about this WOULD BE THE IDEAL SITUATION. BC NO ONE SHOULD GO THROUGH THAT. but.#he HAS to forever be the victim in his eyes. attempting doesnt automatically mean youre free of sin.#its just terrible to see that regardless whether or not he did do it#its very clear his attempts to run away from his consequences are working on some people#we need to acknowledge that if your shitty ex friend can weaponize a threat to kill themselves#so can this internet person after being called out for horrendous shit#like what was the alterative? what were people supposed to fucking do? be nice about it?#yeah as if poc and trans women arent historically given shit for being 'too mean' about wanting justice.#this isnt just the plagiarism this is the fact a white dude has been parading himself as THE speaker for the gays(tm) but has been using hi#gayness to shield himself from his misogyny racism transphobia and antisemitism#its very clear regardless this means that ppl r going to side with him and then give him benefit of doubt#if you cant handle the heat stay out of the fucking kitchen dude. this is the consequences of your fucking actions.#hes a disgusting person who cant handle being told no so hes going to drag everyone down with him#like. idk this entire situation is frustrating to me.#its also frustrating ppl trying to be moral abt it like 'see! i knew this was bad all along!' no you didnt. shut it.#for the record im like mainly talking abt twit watching those spineless uwu cutesy ppl basically saying hes done noting wrong#oh and also alt righters who are clearly weaponinizing this where u know they wouldnt give a shit if a right ytber did this.#james somerton#idk might delete this later its just. ugh...
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melanchol1cs · 2 months ago
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WHAT GOOD IS SORRY?
ex husband!leon x f!reader
word count: 3.3k summary: why does one wound those they love so deeply? masterlist | taglist | ko-fi
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18+ MDNI. mentions of divorce, cheating/infidelity, awkward leon stuff, guilt, yearning, leon and reader have a child together — and i named her denise for whatever reason, getting stood up by a date, drunk texting, kissing, oral(r!receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, bittersweet ending(?) i guess.
a/n: old wip,, this was supposed to be super gut wrenching and angsty but for some reason, my brain didn’t want to cooperate and decided that this would be the ending. also, i’ve been contemplating whether to address this or not and even tho its not a big issue, PLEASE interact with my posts. it’s the only way i’m able to know that you guys actually like the stuff i write, and ever since i’ve started writing on here 7 months ago, i’ve been noticing a decrease in interactions. im honestly losing motivation to write because i truly don’t know if people actually read my shit and like it. anyway, enjoy my mediocre writing ^___^
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leon regrets everything he’s done up to this point. running into ada on a mission, going to the bar with her afterwards, and the kiss. the stupid kiss that eventually led up to this.
the divorce.
it all felt wrong, so wrong. yet here he was, driving his car to your doorstep, his stomach in knots despite having done this several times before.
for the sake of your daughter, the two of you had decided that shared custody would be the best option.
he stands at the door, hesitating before knocking, his knuckles hovering anxiously. clearing his throat, he gently raps his knuckles against the door, hoping for an answer. he's already second-guessing himself, wondering if he should have texted or called first.
your door eventually opens, and he's met with a familiar face. you.
you greet him with a civil smile, pressing a kiss into your daughter’s hair before ushering her inside.
he fidgets, adjusting the brim of his leather jacket nervously as he takes in the sight of you.
you reach to shut the door, catching a glimpse of him awkwardly hovering over you porch.
“you okay?”
he tries to find his voice. "yeah, i just, uh... i was just thinking..”
he looks down at his feet, kicking the ground with the side of his scuffed boot, as if trying to buy some time or maybe just willing the floor to swallow him up. when he speaks, his voice is low and sheepish. “when i was— last night, i thought… uh, do- do you remember when.. shit. are you free this weekend?”
”what?” you muse at his question. “leon, i really don’t wanna have this conversation with you again,”
he winces at the rebuff, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets as a defensive measure.
leon’s adam’s apple bobs up and down as he swallows hard, his ears burning at your words. he looks anywhere but at you, his eyes darting over the porch railing, the foliage, the sky — anywhere but your eyes. oh, those eyes he adored so much.
"no, wait, hear me out,”
"listen..." he takes a deep breath, steeling himself for whatever fallout this might bring, knowing he's already on shaky ground. “i just wanna talk.. to you.”
he shifts his weight, glancing up at the roof of the house as if the heavens themselves could offer a solution. when he does meet your gaze again, his eyes are pleading, his jaw clenched with a mix of anxiety and something akin to desperation.
“i’m sorry, leon. i’m busy,”
he scoffs and his face scrunches up, a pained grimace contorting his features as he cuts you off. “c’mon, please?” he's standing too close now, invading the personal space he once knew so well. “i.. i know it isn’t what we do anymore but—“
“no, seriously. i literally can’t. i have something up.”
“oh.” he deflates slightly at your dismissal, shoulders slumping in defeat. a soft, regretful sigh escapes his parted lips, and his eyes drop, gaze wandering aimlessly. "can- can you can you cancel? is it really important? what about on sunday-? i’m sure we can..“
“leon.” it's not a question this time, you stare at him with the tiniest hint of pity. “i have a date.”
ouch. he freezes, his chest constricting as if he's been punched. a date? the words echo in his mind, each syllable like a dagger to his pride, his ego, his everything. a muscle in his jaw twitches, his hands clenching and unclenching in his pockets. leon swallows hard, his throat suddenly parched.
"oh," he repeats, the sound barely above a whisper. he takes a shaky breath, trying to calm the storm brewing inside him.
he rubs a hand over the back of his neck, jaw working in agitation as he grapples with the blow of your words. a snarky retort rises in his throat, a cutting remark to deflect the sting, but it withers on his tongue, a futile attempt at salvaging pride he knows is misplaced.
leon swallows hard, his mouth opening and closing a few times before he finally finds his voice, laced with a wry bitterness. “yeah, no worries.. guess that's that," a bitter, hollow chuckle escapes him as he shifts his weight. his tone is flippant, trying to mask the sting of rejection, but the defeat is palpable as he turns to leave. he starts down the porch steps, his boots thudding against the wooden slats.
you finally close the door on him, standing by the door, hand on the knob, unease prickling along you skin like a thousand tiny needles, each one stinging with the weight of guilt. you sigh, rubbing the bridge of her nose as she tries to process her feelings. guilt, regret, a twinge longing — it's all so confusing, so messy.
the weight of his pleading eyes, the desperation in his tone — he had no right acting like a dejected puppy after he cheated on you.
you shake your head, face between your hands. he made his choices, just as you had, and now it was time to move on. you squared your shoulders, took a deep breath, and stepped away from the door, determined to let go of the ghost of what was and focus on the life you were building. for you, and your daughter.
but it’s not really easy.
not when you’re sitting alone at a restaurant, waiting for a date that never bothered to show.
your phone buzzes and you hold your breath. hoping for some sort of confirmation, but it's quickly snuffed out.
‘hey, sorry i couldn’t make it. something important came up’ the simple text reads. the same stupid excuse. every. single. time. your heart sinks, a dull ache forming in the pit of your stomach.
a bitter, derisive chuckle escapes your lips. serves you right. you knew he was trouble from the start. yet, your heart aches, a dull throb of pain and disappointment. you feel so foolish, sitting there, waiting for someone who never shows. though, it isn't really new.
now you lay in your bed, having already kicked off your heels and changed out of the uncomfortably tight dress you wore.
you pull the blankets up to your chin, suddenly feeling cold. you toss and turn, brooding and wallowing in misery, and it seemed like you’ve been doing it for hours till you’re startled out of your fitful doze by the buzz of your phone.
it's a text from leon, of course it is. it’s another one of his ‘where are u? i miss u’ ‘can’t stop thinking about you. please let me c u’ meltdowns.
he's drunk again, you can tell by the sloppy caps and the desperate pleas. every time he has a rough night, he always thinks coming over will magically fix everything. and you always refuse, knowing he’s only drunk and alone. but tonight, you feel particularly lonely.
your thumb hovers over the keyboard, and before you know it, you're typing. ‘come over.’ you hesitate, then send the message.
by then, he’s already halfway out the door, stumbling out and nearly falling as he trips over his own feet in his haste. he takes the stairs two at a time, a goofy, shit-eating grin plastered on his face. when he reaches your door, he pounds on it with a fist. his breath comes out in short puffs as he waits, anticipation making his heart race.
click.
the door creaks open a fraction and his eyes lock onto you, looking all soft and domestic in a robe. leon's breath catches in his throat as his eyes drink you in.
he tumbles in, arms outstretched as if he's about to catch something. he's immediately in your space, arms around you in a tight, needy embrace. his face buries itself in the crook of your neck, breathless with relief and something else, something suspiciously like love.
“leon—“ he smashes his mouth against yours, tongue pushing past your lips, the taste of beer and regret in his breath. his hands roam, sliding up your back, gripping your hair, fingers splayed wide as if to assure himself you're real. a low, desperate sound escapes him, half-groan, half-moan as his body presses against yours. he's desperate, sloppy, but undeniably passionate. when he finally breaks for air, he rests his forehead against yours, eyes glassy with drink and longing.
“missed you s’ much, baby,” he presses a kiss to your neck, tongue tracing the pulse point with a reverence that borders worship.
“let me make it up to you, please,” he looks up at you with those big, puppy-dog eyes, an expression so pathetic it’s comical. yet, the desperation behind them makes it anything but.
his hands skim down your sides to your hips, fingers digging in as if to keep you anchored to him. his face buried in the crook of your neck as his hands knead the meat of your ass, claws digging in through the fabric of your robe. his breath hitches as he nuzzles into you, inhaling deeply as if committing you to memory.
he trails a string of open-mouthed kisses down your neck, pausing to nibble on your collarbone before continuing his journey south. his hands never stop moving, roaming over your body with an insatiable hunger.
you let out a soft whimper, arching into his touch. "bedroom," you breathe out, and he happily obliges.
once inside, he kicks the door shut behind him and spins you around, backing you up against the bed. he begins to undo your robe with shaking fingers, your heavy breathing and the rustling of silk the only sounds in the charged silence between you. when the robe falls open, he pushes it off your shoulders, letting it pool at your feet.
the thin, sheer fabric of your nightgown offers little resistance as he practically rips it off you. a shaky breath escapes his parted lips as he reaches for you again, fingers grazing your skin as if he's not quite trusting his own touch.
he guides you to the bed, pushing you to sit on the edge. he immediately drops to his knees before you, face between your legs.
“these ‘re pretty,” he slurs out, before he fucking tears your underwear off.
“leon!”
he chuckles at your reaction, a low, rumbling sound in the back of his throat. “sorry,” he murmurs against your inner thigh, his hot breath causing goosebumps to rise in its wake. “gonna buy you new ones,”
his stubble scrapes against your sensitive skin as he slowly trails open-mouthed kisses up your thigh, savoring every inch of you that you’re willing to give him.
he buries his face between your legs, licking and sucking with a single-minded devotion that makes your toes curl and eyes roll back in your head. his scruffy cheeks hollow as he sucks a hickey into the soft flesh of your inner thigh.
god, it’s been so long. the feelings practically foreign.
his tongue begins to lash at your slit, long and flat, with a dexterity that belies his level of inebriation.
“you still mine?” he huffs. “‘course you are, ‘m the only one that can get ya this wet,”
slurp, smack, suck, repeat.
his tongue is relentless, probing your entrance, swirling around your clit with increasing fervor. he's sloppy, uncoordinated, but it only serves to heighten the intensity of it all. every time he pulls back, you can hear his heavy breathing, feel the vibrations of his moans against your most intimate flesh. your fingers thread into his hair, tugging him closer as your back arches off the bed. a keening whimper escapes you, the sound muffled by your clenched teeth as you struggle to maintain some semblance of control.
“fuck, leon—” your words trail off into incoherent mumbles as he drives you closer to the edge, tongue darting in and out with a pace that’ll make a grown woman go crazy. “d-denise, were gonna wake her up,”
a low growl rumbles in his chest as he responds to your whine. there's a hint of accusation in his gaze, but it quickly morphs into a look of raw, desperate need. “don’t matter,” he's relentless, persistent, refusing to back down even as you tremble and writhe beneath him.
he grunts, his attention snapping back to you, blue eyes squinting as he looks up from between your thighs. his tongue is a damn metronome, lapping and smacking with a relentless rhythm that has you chasing the edge of oblivion.
it's like every drunken fantasy he's ever had is being poured out onto you. messy, uncoordinated, desperate. and you’re eating it up. “gonna make you forget all about that stupid date," he mutters through slurred words. "’m the only man who can make you feel this good,"
he's not wrong. the way he's attacking you with his tongue, it's like he's trying to prove a fucking point.
"leon, please," you gasp out, and he takes it as an invitation to continue. your entire body is wound up tight, a taut string ready to snap. he slips a finger in, then two, curling them just right so that they’re pressing against that spongy spot that has you seeing stars.
your legs wrap around his head, fingers threading into his hair as you pull him in as close as humanly possible. his name is a chant on your lips, a prayer to the gods of pleasure. "leon, leon, leon,". denise could come in right now and catch you like this — legs splayed, back arched, eyes squeezed shut in bliss. he's that good. or maybe that bad. you dont know. and you don’t care to find out.
"yeah, just like that," he praises, voice a low, gravelly growl. "love my fingers in this greedy little cunt, don't you?"
your thighs clench around his head, heels digging into his back as you ride out the pleasure. "gonna cum, leon, please—“ yours words trail off into a wail, a keen of pure, unadulterated euphoria.
your back arches, toes curl, and your fingers dig into his hair, holding him to you as the wave crashes over you. he tugs you down to the edge of the bed, practically burying his face in your groin. he laps at your slit, in and out, in and out, until the last bit of resistance melts away.
he lifts his face from between your legs, eyes hazy and unfocused as he fumbles to unbuckle his pants. once he has it off, he's back, pushing your legs apart as he kneels between them. the thick of his length throbs against your lower belly, and you can feel his racing heartbeat through every inch of him that's in contact with you.
he notches the head of his cock at your entrance, pressing in just enough to make you feel the pressure, gathering your juices before giving a long, slow stroke up and down, coating himself in you. he's throbbing, pulsing with need, and you can practically taste the desperation in your mouth.
he presses in, just the tip at first, then a bit more. slow, shallow strokes, in and out. his hips rock against yours, the motion slow and languid. one of his hands cups your cheek, thumb brushing over your closed eyelids to check if he was dreaming. the other hand palms the small of your back, fingers digging in as if to anchor himself. your legs wrap around his waist, ankles locking behind his back as he slowly sinks into you.
he's quiet for a moment, just holding you, his heart racing in his chest as if he's trying to communicate something without using words. his hips move, the action slow and lazy, as if he's trying to spoon you into submission.
he pulls out, just to the tip, before pushing back in. the motion is slow, sensual, a deliberate teasing that has you whining and writhing beneath him.
sweat beads on his brow, tracing down the lines of his face, but he doesn't slow. if anything, he's driven by a desperate need to make up for lost time, to prove himself worthy of you. your back arches, hands scrabbling for purchase on the sheets as he pistons in and out, the force of his thrusts rocking your entire body. he's not gentle, not soft, but rough and demanding, just like he always used to be when he was trying to stake his claim.
he nips at your earlobe, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh before he sooths it with his tongue. “fuck, feels so good,” he gasps out, his words punctuated by the slap of skin against skin. “can't believe i ever let you go.”
"leon," you whimper, the name a plea, a prayer. his lips find yours in a sloppy, frantic kiss. he's drinking you in, devouring your mouth, your moans, your gasps, trying to consume every ounce of you.
he's sweating, hair a mess, face scrunched up in concentration, but those blue eyes remain locked on yours.
you're lost in the sensation, every nerve ending on high alert, screaming for friction, for relief, for release. "leon, leon, gonna cum," you pant, your voice raw, your throat dry. "please, i—" but your pleas are swallowed by his next thrust, his cock dragging against your sensitive walls.
he leans forward, his forehead pressing against yours, noses nearly touching. his hot breath mingles with yours, the scent of his beer-soaked breath and the musk of his arousal mingling together in the most intoxicating way. "love you," he suddenly whispers, the words a quiet, a desperate confession that hangs in the air between you.
“love you, love you, fuck—“
the way your walls squeeze him when you cum drags his own orgasm from him. for a long moment, he stays frozen, buried to the hilt, his chest heaving against yours as he tries to catch his breath.
the heat of your body seeps into his skin, chasing away the chill of the night air. he collapses against you, a boneless heap of satisfied male. his cock throbs, pulses, and drips onto the bed between your legs as he tries to catch his breath. the room is silent, save for your joint heavy breathing, and the occasional groan as his softening length slips out of you. eventually, he rolls off, lying on his back beside you, one big hand coming to rest on your stomach, thumb stroking in a slow, idle pattern. his eyes are hazy, unfocused, but they find yours and hold. a small, sheepish smile tugs at his lips.
"sorry," he slurs out, the word garbled and slightly off-kilter. "i shoulda been better, should’ve tried harder, i... i‘m gonna make things right, i swear,"
he peppers your neck with soft kisses, his stubble rasping against your tender flesh. he's warm, solid, and comforting. gentle and tender, a stark contrast to the desperation that drove him mere moments ago.
he's not reaching for grand gestures or flowery declarations. he's asking for something simple, intimate, and achingly human. a chance to hold you, to sleep beside you, to maybe, begin to rebuild something from the rubble of what once was.
and for a moment, you let yourself believe that he’ll be different this time. that he's not just trying to relive past glories, but genuinely wants to make amends, to start anew.
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tags: @crowleyco @withonly-sweetheart @fanilkychae
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the-winter-spider · 1 month ago
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The Alchemy | Part One
NFL Bucky x reader au
Word Count: 2.8k
Warnings: Angst, fluff,
A/N: I only have one more chapter of Invisible to post so ima get this new series out there. I plan to alternate with this one and Say Don Go! Also im Canadian, ive never watched football in my life before Taylor Swift & Travis Kelce so bare with me, Im a hockey girl 😇🤣
ALSO WOW another ts inspired fic what are the odds lmaoooo
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The stadium buzzed with energy, every seat packed with fans decked out in the team’s deep blue and silver. Flags waved, chants echoed, and the floodlights bathed the field in an electric glow. The scoreboard flashed 20-24. Fourth quarter. Six seconds left on the clock.
Bucky Barnes stood on the field, his cleats dug into the turf as his breath came in steady bursts. His number 17 jersey clung to him, streaked with sweat and dirt, but his focus was absolute. Across from him, defenders crouched low, their eyes locked on him. Everyone in the stadium knew where the ball was going. The golden boy, the clutch player, the one who could pull miracles out of thin air.
At the line of scrimmage, Steve Rogers—number 18, the quarterback—barked out commands, his voice cutting through the noise like a blade. “Green 18! Green 18! Set!” His hand hovered under center, waiting for the snap.
Next to Steve, Sam Wilson—number 78, the running back—grinned as he looked to his left. “Hope you’re ready to make me look good, Barnes,” Sam called to Bucky, his voice tinged with a mix of adrenaline and humor.
Bucky smirked, glancing over his shoulder. “Always am, Wilson. Try to keep up.”
The ball snapped.
Time slowed, the roar of the stadium dimming to a dull hum in Bucky’s ears. He exploded off the line of scrimmage, his legs pumping as he darted past the first defender. His route was a perfectly calculated arc, his sharp cut leaving his opponent scrambling in his wake.
Steve dropped back, his eyes scanning the field, calm and composed as chaos erupted around him. The offensive line was holding—barely. Sam sprinted out to the right, dragging a defender with him and creating just enough space for Bucky to hit his mark.
“Buck!” Steve’s shout was clear, even over the thunder of the crowd. The ball left his hands in a perfect spiral, arcing high into the night.
Bucky didn’t slow. He kept his eyes on the ball as it sailed through the air, his body moving on instinct. A defender lunged at him, but he sidestepped, his cleats digging into the turf and propelling him forward. Another defender was closing in, but he wasn’t fast enough.
Bucky leaped, his arms stretching to meet it. For a split second, the stadium seemed to hold its breath. His fingertips brushed the leather, and then the ball was in his hands, secured against his chest as he crashed to the ground in the end zone.
The buzzer sounded.
The crowd erupted into a deafening roar, the stands a blur of jumping fans and waving flags. Bucky pushed himself to his feet, the ball still clutched tightly in his hands. His teammates swarmed him, slapping his back and tugging at his jersey.
“Hell of a catch, Buck!” Steve shouted, pulling Bucky into a quick hug, his grin as wide as the field.
“Couldn’t have done it without that throw,” Bucky replied, though his grin didn’t quite reach his eyes.
Sam jogged over, shaking his head in mock disbelief. “Man, you’re gonna make the rest of us look bad if you keep pulling off plays like that.”
“Just doing my job,” Bucky quipped, though his voice carried a hint of weariness.
The cameras swarmed, capturing every second of the celebration. Bucky turned, tossing the ball to an equipment manager as he ran a hand through his damp hair. He offered a practiced smile to the crowd, raising his hand in a quick wave. The adrenaline still pounded through his veins, but underneath it all, he felt…empty. Moments like this used to mean everything. Now, they were just another show.
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You stood just behind the sidelines, your camera in hand as you captured the final seconds of the game. The stadium’s energy was almost overwhelming, but you kept your focus, snapping shot after shot as the ball spiraled through the air. The lens followed Bucky, capturing the moment his fingertips grazed the ball and the exact second he pulled it to his chest.
Your thumb hovered over the record button as he hit the ground in the end zone, the buzzer blaring through the stadium. The noise was deafening, but you barely noticed, too focused on capturing the raw emotion of the moment—his teammates rushing to him, the grin splitting Steve’s face, Sam throwing his hands in the air as he jogged over.
Through the lens, you could see every detail: the streaks of dirt on Bucky’s jersey, the intensity in his eyes, the way he stood a little apart from the celebration even as he was surrounded by his team. You lowered the camera for a moment, watching as he turned to wave at the crowd, that effortless smile on his face.
There was something surreal about seeing him like this, so different yet so familiar, especially after all these years. The golden boy of the NFL, the star of every highlight reel, and yet…still Bucky. You just wondered what he would think if he knew you were tasked with covering his team for the duration of the season.
-----
The press room buzzed with energy as reporters jostled for position, shoving microphones and cameras toward the front. Bucky sat at the table, effortlessly commanding the room. His jersey clung to him, still damp with sweat, and his dark hair fell messily across his forehead. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table, his easy smile lighting up the space.
“Bucky, talk us through that final play!” one reporter called out.
Bucky smirked, shaking his head. “It’s not just me. That was all teamwork. The guys up front gave me the space, and Stevie threw a perfect pass, I just had to do my part.”
“Just your part?” another reporter pressed. “That was your second game-winning catch this season and it just started! You’re making it look easy out there.”
“Well,” Bucky replied, flashing a quick grin, “it’s never easy, i’ve just got a great team behind me. We work hard for moments like that.”
More questions came, volleying back and forth. He answered them all with polished charm, his practiced media persona never faltering. But as the questions wore on, his gaze started to wander, skimming over the sea of faces and microphones. That’s when he saw you, his blue eyes did a double take before confusion and shock swam through them.
You were standing off to the side, not pushing to the front like the others. You weren’t yelling over the noise or angling for the best shot. You were just…there. Scribbling something into your notebook, head ducked slightly as if you wanted to disappear into the crowd.
Bucky froze for a fraction of a second, the polished grin faltering for the briefest moment before he caught himself. His heart stuttered in his chest, a wave of recognition crashing over him. He blinked, his brain scrambling to catch up. No way. It couldn’t be.
You were trying to stay out of the fray while still capturing the scene. Your notebook was a familiar weight in your hands, its pages filling with shorthand notes that you’d polish later. It was your way of staying grounded—your way of not staring too long at him.
The boy you’d grown up with. The boy who used to challenge you to races down your block, who teased you mercilessly, who knew all your secrets. Seeing him now, years later, as the NFL’s star receiver, felt surreal. He’d become everything the world expected him to be. And yet, in some strange way, he was still the same.
You ducked your head lower, scribbling furiously to avoid the wave of memories threatening to crash over you. Focus. Professional. Objective. That was your mantra when you’d taken this assignment. You hadn’t even known it would be his team until you arrived. Now, all you wanted was to finish your notes and leave to compose yourself fully before he could notice you.
Bucky’s gaze lingered on you, his heart pounding in a way that had nothing to do with the game he’d just played. He said your name softly, testing it on his lips. It felt foreign and familiar all at once. You didn’t react—too far away, too focused on your notes.
“Hey, Bucky!” another reporter called out. “What’s your mindset going into the rest of the season?”
He barely heard the question. His focus was entirely on you now, watching as you slipped your notebook into your bag and adjusted the strap over your shoulder. You were leaving.
“Uh, sorry,” he mumbled to the reporter, not bothering to look at them. “I need to…” He trailed off, standing abruptly.
The room went silent for a moment, the reporters exchanging confused glances. “Bucky, are you—?”
“Yeah, uh, excuse me,” he muttered, already moving. He left the table, ignoring the murmurs that followed as the cameras swung to track his movements.
His heart stuttered.
“Y/N?” he murmured, his voice barely audible over the din. He blinked, half-convinced his mind was playing tricks on him. He tried again, louder this time. “Y/N?”
You didn’t look up.
----
The late summer air clung to your skin, thick and still, like it was trying to hold you in this moment forever. The roof beneath you was rough and familiar, each crack in the shingles a memory. Nights like this always felt infinite—just you and Bucky under the stars, talking about everything and nothing. But tonight, that comforting rhythm was broken.
You sat side by side, the glow of the streetlights catching in Bucky’s messy hair. He leaned back on his elbows, that cocky grin you knew so well plastered across his face. “So,” he said, breaking the silence, “you wanna go to prom with me next year? You know, as friends or whatever.”
You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped, but it sounded hollow even to you. “Prom’s not for another year, Bucky. Don’t tell me you’re turning into a planner now.”
“What can I say?” He shrugged, the grin widening, his confidence practically radiating. “I like to lock down the good ones early.”
You rolled your eyes and gave him a light shove, but your hand lingered on his arm for just a second longer than it should have. He felt it. He always felt it.
“Alright,” he said, his grin fading as he sat up straighter, his piercing blue eyes narrowing in concern. “What’s going on? You’ve been weird all night.”
Your fingers twisted together in your lap, your gaze dropping to the shingles. The words felt too heavy to say, but they burned in your chest. You couldn’t keep them in any longer.
“I’m moving.”
The silence that followed was suffocating. It stretched between you like the whole world had opened up, and all you could do was stare into the void. When you finally looked at him, his expression was blank, unreadable. That cocky smile you’d always known so well—it was just gone.
“You’re lying,” he said, his voice low, almost like a challenge.
You shook your head, your throat tightening. “I wish I was.”
His brows furrowed, the disbelief quickly turning into something sharper. “Why?” he asked, leaning closer. “You don’t have to go. You’re almost eighteen—just stay.”
“Bucky—”
“No, listen to me,” he cut you off, his words coming fast now, his tone filled with something you rarely heard from him: fear. “You could stay here. My ma wouldn’t care. Hell, she’d love it. You could move into the basement. You practically live at my house anyway. No one would even notice. You don’t have to go.”
The desperation in his voice broke something in you. You had known it would hurt, but seeing him like this—Bucky, who was always so strong, so steady—was unbearable.
“I can’t stay,” you said softly, the words barely more than a whisper. “I don’t have a choice.”
“Why not?” His voice cracked as he sat up fully, his hands curling into fists against the roof. “Am I not enough for you to stay?” He knew he was being selfish but he was so blind sided he couldn't help it.
The question hit you like a punch to the chest. Your breath caught, and you had to blink hard to keep your vision from blurring. “Fuck, Bucky,” you whispered. “Of course, you’re enough. You’re my best friend. You’re everything. But my mom…” Your voice broke, and you had to take a deep breath before continuing. “She’s finally leaving him. Bucky, we’re finally getting out.”
His jaw clenched, and his chest rose and fell unevenly as he processed your words. His hands gripped the edge of the roof like it was the only thing keeping him from falling apart. “Your mom…” he started, his voice trailing off. Of course, he was happy for her. He knew what it had taken for her to finally leave that asshole. He’d seen the bruises you never talked about, the way your voice would falter when you mentioned home. Of course, he understood.
But that didn’t make it hurt any less. She was taking you away from him, and he couldn’t stand it. "What about school? We have one more year left."
"They have schools everywhere Buck..." Your voice was soft and quiet.
For a long moment, neither of you said anything. The night stretched on, heavy and endless. You thought he might fight you on it again, throw out another plan, another reason for you to stay. But instead, he let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head.
“Well,” he said, his voice sharp and hollow, “I guess this is it then.”
“Bucky, don’t do this,” you pleaded, the words rushing out before you could stop them. “Please.”
He stood up slowly, brushing off his hands like he was trying to shake off the weight of your words. His expression was unreadable now, his eyes cold and distant in a way you’d never seen before.
“It was nice while it lasted,” he said, his voice clipped and emotionless. He paused at the edge of the roof, looking back at you one last time. “Hey, take care of yourself, alright?”
And then he climbed down the ladder, disappearing into the shadows below.
You didn’t call after him—you couldn’t. You just sat there on the roof, staring at the place where he’d been, your heart breaking under the weight of his absence. For the first time, the stars felt impossibly far away.
That was the last time you ever talked to Bucky Barnes.
----
You were halfway down the hallway, your footsteps echoing softly in the empty space, when you heard him.
“Y/N!”
You froze, halfway down the hallway. The voice was unmistakable now—stronger, sharper, but undeniably his. Slowly, you turned, and there he was, jogging toward you with an expression you couldn’t quite decipher. His broad shoulders filled the space, but it was his eyes—wide and almost boyish—that sent your heart racing.
“Is this really you?” he asked, stopping just a few feet away. His chest rose and fell as if he’d just run the length of the field. His gaze swept over you, disbelief and something like relief flickering across his face.
You laughed nervously, a sound that came out more like a breathless exhale. “I didn’t think you’d recognize me.”
Bucky’s lips parted in a huff of incredulous laughter. “Are you kidding? I could find you in any room.”
The words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. Before you could respond, he closed the distance, wrapping you in a hug so tight it stole the breath from your lungs. For a moment, the world fell away—the noise, the cameras, the years. It was just Bucky, holding you like he was afraid you’d disappear. It was like you were kids again, sitting on rooftops and talking about everything under the stars. Holding you in a way where you finally felt safe like nothing or no one could hurt you because you knew these arm’s wouldn’t.
“Holy shit,” he muttered into your hair. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his hands still on your shoulders. “I haven’t seen you in years. What are you doing here? Not that I’m not happy to see you—I’m just…wow.”
You smiled, your heart pounding in your chest. “I’m here to cover the team for the season.” You held up your press badge, a sheepish grin tugging at your lips. “Didn’t realize I’d be covering you.”
Bucky barked a laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “Fate, huh? Guess it wasn’t done with us yet.”
You both stood there for a moment, the hallway around you seeming to blur. His thumb brushed against your arm absently, like he was reassuring himself you were real. Finally, he stepped back, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“I’ve got about a thousand questions,” he said, tilting his head. “But I guess we’ve got the whole season to catch up, right?”
“Right,” you replied, the warmth in his eyes making it impossible to think straight. “The whole season.”
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honeytonedhottie · 11 months ago
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starting ur fitness girlie era⋆.ೃ࿔*:・🌷
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starting ur fitness girlie era is actually super easy! its consistency and discipline where most ppl struggle. i hope this post can help make the sustenance of ur fitness girlie era super easy and fun + some fun working out resources to start ✨
FOR CLARITY ;
when starting anything, the most important thing, although cliche is starting from a place of love rather then hate. it feels better and is more sustainable in the long run.
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be clear on your goals for ur fitness girlie era. is this something that u wanna maintain in ur day to day life for general health? do you wanna gain/lose some weight? do you just wanna be stronger?
knowing what ur trying to achieve makes finding workouts that target your goal specifically more easy (the more specific the better)
WHERE DOES NUTRITION COME INTO PLAY ;
you should be fueling ur body properly in order for ur body to function well when ur in ur fitness girlie era. if ur goal for example is to gain weight but u notice that u have a habit to eat very little, make a log.
WIEIAD LOG (NUTRITION CONTINUED) ;
i started a what i eat in a day log for a couple reasons. one bcuz i love lists and documenting things about myself, and two bcuz i wanted to make sure that i was eating well and eating good quality foods. bcuz i notice that when i eat well -> i feel well.
eat to fuel your body, dont eat just to eat
include fresh foods
make sure that you eat healthy portions (calling four almonds a meal is NOT healthy, and calling six pizza pies a meal is NOT healthy)
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overall just be mindful of what u decide to fuel your body with. an easy drink that helps to be mindful with what u fuel ur body with is with SMOOTHIES.
im so sick of ppl sleeping on smoothies cuz if u dont like to directly eat vegetables or if u want an easy way to intake fresh fruits and veggies smoothies are the way to GO.
ROMANTICIZATION ;
the fun part of the whole journey, romanticization. made a pinterest board for ur fitness journey aesthetic and make it super pretty. invest in cute workout clothes to motivate urself to workout.
formulate a playlist for ur workout, something that gives u energy and motivates you. find a workout class or a youtube channel that you love. dont make working out BORING. get a workout buddy, make some video diary entries about working out/ur workout for the day.
make a blog that records whatever workout that u did. find fun ways to work out, like dancing or going on hot girl walks. create an atmosphere where u can work out and treat the time that u spend working out as a time to nurture and nourish your body.
PATIENCE AND PERSISTENCE ;
motivation isnt going to get u through a sustainable fitness girl journey, motivation can only get you so far. its DISCIPLINE that gets you the results that you want and consistency.
be patient with yourself even if u fall off ur routine and grind, ur only human so let yourself live. as long as you dont make falling off a habit, you'll be okay.
make sure that u emphasize the mind -> body connection bcuz thats super important. working out is not just about working up a sweat; it's about connecting with your body and embracing the mind-body connection.
FUN AND EFFECTIVE WAYS TO WORKOUT ;
le sserafim workout - i've done the le sserafim workout once or twice and it absolutely destroyed me 💀 but in a good way. its challenging but its also rly effective so i recommend.
dancing - if ur into dancing, find a way of dancing that u enjoy to do. some examples include ; ballet, kpop dances, jazz etc
join a sport - join a sport with a friend to make it more fun! but theres lots of different sports that u can play and not only is it good for ur health, but its also super fun
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pintrestgrl · 4 months ago
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loved your bsf!jj drabble!!!!! maybe a little drunken love confession from bsf!jj … and reader thinks its lowkey too good to be true bc she’s been yearning forever… but when they both sober up jj is like !!! i meant wtf i said !
hi i wrote this and then it completely disappeared. sigh. also im sorry if this is bad, i was half asleep bc i spent forever writing it the first time.
also i’m sorry for being inactive yesterday i was so so stressed nd had cramps and was dying… but hi !! hope u like this anon 🥹
note: after writing this, i rlly don’t like it. but i pray u guys do 😞
drunk!bsf!jj x pogue!reader.
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“here, drink this.”
you spoke, shoving a glass of water into jj’s chest, sitting down next to him on the couch of the chateau.
he was clearly very wasted, and you were only a slight bit tipsy.
you two had both went out to the boneyard together, the rest of the group out doing god knows what.
he rambled on about not wanting to drink it, before giving in and chugging the clear liquid.
“thank god, you’re annoying when you’re drunk.”
“no, ‘m not. you are.”
“at least i’m not sloppy wasted, unlike somebody.”
“whatever. guilty by association.”
he spoke, slurring his words and laughing drunkenly.
“i’m not associated with you, you wish.”
“you’re my bestfriend, of course you are.”
he spoke, rolling his eyes amused at your denying.
you managed to let out a fake chuckle, silently cringing inside as he called you that. were you really only his ‘friend��� to him?
you wished to be so much more, and he had no idea whatsoever.
you were snapped out of your thoughts by his voice, drunkenly rambling again.
“thanks for the water. that was like, kinda sweet.”
“sweet?” you question, laughing as you furrowed your brows.
“yeah. you’re a sweet girl, i swear.”
you opened your mouth to protest, before being interrupted before you got the chance.
“you’re kinda pretty too.”
you froze at his words.
pretty?
that’s the last word you thought jj would use to describe you; at least to your face.
“what?”
“actually, no. you are pretty. very pretty.”
“jj, you’re drunk.”
“yeah, i am. and you’re pretty. probably beautiful if i could think right now.”
“you don’t mean that.”
“no, i do. i definitely do. i don’t know why you don’t have a boyfriend. or why i’m too dumb to ask you out.”
you were completely baffled at this point, trying to find any truth in his words. and to your surprise, he sounded genuine. drunk, but genuine.
you had liked him forever, and this was the most he’d ever showed any reciprocation.
you were always too scared to say anything, afraid of his rejection and what it would do to your friendship.
so, you opted for having some of him, rather then none at all.
“do you even understand a word you’re saying?”
you spoke, desperately needing to know if he was just drunkenly saying bullshit, or revealing the truth of how he felt.
“yeah, i do. you’re a sweet girl who is too pretty to not have a boyfriend. i mean, god. your face is perfect.”
“jj, shut up. stop.”
“no, you shut up. let me talk. i think i like you.”
“i’d hope so, considering i’m your bestfriend.”
“no, no. like actually like you. like seriously.”
you desperately were trying to deny his words, convincing yourself this was a dream and you needed to wake up.
“you think you like me?”
“no, i actually know i do. like a lot.
“jay, you’re joking.”
he scoffed, rolling his eyes.
“can you let me be serious about one thing in my life? i mean, god. i’m not joking. i’m serious. serious about this, about you.”
you could tell he was probably getting agitated the way you kept denying him, the way his mood shifted from amusedly drunk, to pissed off.
“why don’t you sleep the ‘liking me’ off, yeah?”
it took a while, but you convinced him to just go to bed. and as he layed in the next room over, you couldn’t get over his words.
was he trying to get in your pants because he was wasted, or was he serious about liking you?
you knew the thought would keep you up all night if you let it, so you decided to drop it from your brain, drifting off to a light sleep.
next morning
————————————————
you woke up groggily, a slight hangover lingering on your body. once you registered everything, you decided to go to the room next door, consisting of a likely just as hungover jj.
you opened the door, sitting on john b’s his bed, silently shaking him awake.
you knew he’d probably get all mad, but you needed him to help you clear the lingering thought in your head.
he groaned, mumbling a sleepy short sentence.
“what do you need?”
“can we talk?”
“speak or forever hold your peace, stupid.”
you rolled your eyes at his tired insult, reluctantly continuing with your words.
“uh— last night, you told me some stuff. like that you liked me, thought i was pretty and stuff. were you serious?”
he shot up as the words spilled out, immediately sitting against the headboard.
“i told you that?”
“yeah, you did.”
“shit— um, well yeah. kinda. in a way.”
“kinda?”
“no. not kinda.”
he said, rubbing a hand over his face.
he spoke again, sounding embarrassed.
“yes. i did. i meant it. every word. ‘m sorry. i didn’t mean to— jesus, fuck.”
“no, it’s fine, uh— i ‘kinda’ like you too.”
you said, letting the words come out before you thought about their weight.
“kinda? you’re serious?”
“yes, i’m serious. and not kinda, i didn’t mean that. i like you a lot.”
“shut up.”
“i’m serious, i do.”
“well, why the fuck didn’t you tell me?”
“i don’t know. i was nervous.”
a silence filled the room, not awkward. just waiting for someone to figure out the right thing to say.
finally, jj spoke.
“uh— i’m like really hungover.”
you rolled your eyes at the subject change, finding it just like him to do something like that.
“that’s what your gonna say?”
“no, fuck—sorry. can you just sleep in here with me so i can think straight after?”
“you could’ve just said that.”
“well, i just did, didn’t i?”
“i guess. and yeah, i can. scoot over.”
he awkwardly listened to your demand, not used to the feeling of you knowing about his thoughts of you.
you both fell unconscious soon after, unknowingly shiftinging your bodies closer as you slept.
you slept for another hour or two, limbs tangled and intertwined together as your mind tried to decipher if this was a dream, or if your head was really resting on your bestfriends chest.
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gojolvs · 9 months ago
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I still want you.
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Chapter 8
⤿ Satoru Gojo × reader
Falling in love with the Satoru Gojou wasn’t an easy task. You truly love him but will this come to an end?
Warning/ tags; angst, profanity, smoking, cursing, smut, cheating.
Genre; angst, cheating, infidelity, jik, Gojou × reader
Notes: the tag-list is open if you'd like to be mentioned everytime i update just send me a message on the box. Also super sorry for not updating but im back!
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previous chapter ⤏ next chapter
Before you knew it, you had arrived back at your hotel, Sumire sleeping on your arms. With a sigh, you got up from the bus seat and made your way to the entrance. As you carried him to the room, you couldn't help but smile at how peaceful he looked.
As you walked to your room, constantly feeling your phone vibrate with messages and missed calls, a wave of guilt washed over you. You had just stormed out of your sister's wedding party in a fit of anger and now you couldn't help but feel selfish and regretful. You knew that your actions had caused a scene and potentially ruined her special day. The weight of your decision and its consequences weighed heavily on your conscience.
Was she really pregnant by Satoru? Do you mean absolutely nothing to him? Although you had shared an intimate night the night you went to the bar, you felt stupid for believing his lies. These thoughts were swirling around in your head, the reality of the situation sinking in. You couldn't believe that he would do this to you, especially after everything you had been through together. The trust you had in him was shattered, and you couldn't help but feel foolish for falling for his smooth words and false promises. It was a painful reminder that sometimes, people are not who they seem to be.
Maybe you should've taken that trip with Sumire, just the two of you, to clear your mind. But now, it was too late. You were committed to this path, no matter how unsure you felt. As you walked, the sound of your heels clicking on the concrete floor was a constant reminder of the life you were leaving behind. And with each step, you couldn't help but curse under your breath, knowing that your new pair of Jimmy Choo heels were now ruined.
You felt the tiredness of caring him hit you mid way to the elevator. You sighed with relief as the elevator doors opened, grateful for the brief moment of rest.
As you stepped inside, you couldn't help but wonder how much longer you could keep up this routine. But then you looked down at Sumire in your arms, and you knew you would do anything for him. You straightened your back and held him a little tighter, determined to make it through the rest of the day with a smile on your face.
"Well, someone looks happy." Turning to your side, you barely noticed the tall man with pink hair staring at you. Curling your smile into an awkward one, you turned back to continue trying to shove Sumire up, as he was slipping from your hold. Although the man's comment had caught you off guard, you didn't want to engage in a conversation with a stranger while holding your child. Plus, his pink hair and unusual choice of words made you a bit uncomfortable. You focused on sumire and decided to ignore him, hoping he would take the hint and leave you alone.
"Yeah, well I'm happy to be with my son is all," you chuckled awkwardly. Despite the pink-haired man being oddly attractive, you weren't really looking for a conversation because unfortunately for you, Sumire was starting to wake up. "Do you need help carrying him? It looks like you're struggling," the man said, curling his lips into a genuine smile.
As you handed over your toddler, a wave of anxiety washed over you. You knew that letting a stranger hold your child was not a wise decision, but you were desperate for a break from carrying him. With a mixture of hesitation and aggression, you reluctantly agreed. The man's reaction was unexpected - he froze in place as your little white haired boy happily grabbed onto his neck and curled up. You couldn't help but laugh at the sight. "Well since you're carrying my kid, I should probably introduce myself. My name is Y/N."
"My name is Sukuna." The pink haired man said, he silently checked you out. Looking at your heels to your dress he definitely knew you had some type of cash on you. All you were wearing was designer brands. "Nice to meet you." you said clutching your purse. You wondered if the man was here on a business trip because of the way he was dressed. He was wearing a suite which suited his body figure well.
You couldn't help but notice he looked a little like one of sumire's friends from school. However, his intense gaze and calculating demeanor made you feel uneasy. It was almost as if he was sizing you up, and you couldn't shake off the feeling that he had ulterior motives for wanting to meet you. You started to second-guess your decision to meet him, wondering if it was safe to trust him.
"Wait a minute... I know you." He said chuckling.
Realizing that you had never met this man before, you glanced back at the elevator sign, wondering if he had mistaken you for someone else. However, as you looked back at him, his chuckle turned into a sly smile and you couldn't help but feel suspicious. Who was this man and why did he seem to recognize you? You couldn't shake off the feeling that something was off."why is this elevator so damn slow" you thought.
"You do?" You laughed awkwardly, trying to hide the fear in your voice. All you could do was pray that he wasn't some serial killer.
"Mmm yeah I do. You're Satoru Gojos wife right?" tilting his head a little. You sighed, he was definitely one of Satorus business partners.
The man continued to look at you curiously, his pink hair falling into his dark eyes. You couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious under his gaze. "Yes, I am. And who might you be?" you replied, trying to maintain a polite tone despite your growing irritation. It seemed like Satoru's business partners were always popping up at the most inconvenient times.
"Well im just associated with your husband because we both work for the same industry." nodding your head you couldn't help but feel relieved when the elevator doors finally opened on your floor.
"I can take him from here." reaching for Sumire the man just backed up a bit.
"Where's your room? I can take him there," he said. You sighed in defeat as you stepped out of the elevator. Walking down the hallway towards your hotel room, you couldn't help but feel frustrated with Sukuna's constant presence. You knew he was only trying to help, but having him follow you everywhere was starting to become suffocating.
You could also tell that he was most definitely checking you out as you walked towards your room. Where was satoru when you needed him.
"So how long have you been married for?" Sighing, you shook your head, feeling the weight of your failing marriage. Finally getting to your room, you opened your purse to try and find the keys, hoping to escape the tension and disappointment that had been plaguing your relationship.
"Just a few years," you replied, finally grabbing your keys and unlocking the door. You turned around to face the pink haired man, smiling with gratitude. "Thank you so much for your help. Please come in and put him in the bed."
He gently put sumire down on the bed, straightening him self he cracked his knuckles before walking back out. You followed him planning on thanking him before he left. As you followed him, you couldn't help but feel grateful for his help and wanted to thank him before he left. However, you also couldn't help but notice the slight tension in his knuckles as he walked, perhaps a sign of the physical strain he had endured while carrying Sumire to the bed. You made a mental note to check on him later and offer your gratitude for his assistance.
As Sukuna stood by your side, you silently closed the door behind you, leaving only the two of you outside in the hallway. Turning to Sukuna, you couldn't help but smile and say, "Thank you for carrying my son all this way."
"I'm just happy to help," Sukuna replied with a smile, "Your son is a great kid." You nodded, grateful for Sukuna's assistance in carrying your sleeping child out of the elevator.
Sukuna couldn't help but lean closer, and as he did, you caught a whiff of his strong, expensive cologne. Your heart raced, wondering if he was hitting on you. But as you glanced to the side, you noticed someone standing by you.
"Leave her alone," Toji stood in front of you, pushing Sukuna away. Sukuna groaned in disappointment, "Toji, nice to see you too." The tension between the two of them was palpable, and you couldn't help but feel grateful for Toji's intervention.
"What are you doing here?" you said in a low voice, toji stared at sukuna. Not paying attention to you as he was trying to get sukuna to leave. "Come on man, I can't talk to her?" Toji rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed by Sukuna's presence. You couldn't help but feel caught in the middle of their argument.
With a sigh, Sukuna made his way out of the hallway, leaving you and Toji alone. Surprisingly, the tension that had filled the air seemed to dissipate, replaced by a sense of calm and understanding between the two of you. It was as if Sukuna's departure lifted a weight off your shoulders, allowing you to fully relax in Toji's presence. The atmosphere had changed into something more peaceful, and you couldn't help but feel grateful for this moment of tranquility.
"You followed me?" Confused you stared at him
"Yes, I did. I was worried about you," Toji replied with a concerned expression. "I saw you walk out alone and I couldn't just let you go without making sure you were okay." He squeezed your arm gently, his eyes full of worry. "Are you alright?"
Nodding your head you couldnt help but see that Toji's chest was going up n down fast. He had sweat beats forming on his forehead most likely meaning he sprinted here. "Did you run all the way here?"
Nodding your head, you couldn't help but notice that Toji's chest was rising and falling rapidly. Sweat beads were forming on his forehead, most likely meaning he had sprinted here. "Did you run all the way here?" you asked, concerned for his well-being. Toji smiled and nodded, "Yeah, I wanted to make sure I got here in time to see you." You couldn't help but feel touched by his dedication and effort.
Toji was just staring, taking in your facial features. He couldn't help but admire your features, from the curve of your lips to the sparkle in your eyes. Every detail seemed to captivate him, leaving him in awe of your beauty. But as he gazed at you, he couldn't help but wonder, what was your secret? How could someone be so effortlessly and naturally stunning?
He leaned in, gently cupping your cheek in his hand. His intense gaze held yours, making you feel weak in the knees. You could feel your cheeks heat up and your body tense as his hand caressed your skin. The electricity between you was palpable, and you couldn't deny the flutter of excitement in your stomach. Maybe it was time for you to move on and find someone who actually cares about you. Someone who would treat you with love, respect, and kindness. You deserve to be with someone who values you and makes you feel appreciated.
You put your hand behind his head and pulled him closer, your lips inching towards each other. Maybe Toji was that someone, the one who could treat you with love and kindness, unlike the others who had only caused you pain and heartache. As you leaned in for a kiss, you couldn't help but hope that this could be the start of something real and beautiful. The fear of getting hurt once more overwhelmed you, causing you to hesitate and pull away from his soft lips. Memories of past heartbreaks and betrayals flooded your mind, making it difficult to fully embrace the present moment. You couldn't help but question his intentions and whether or not you were making the right decision by allowing him to kiss you.
"What's wrong?" he asked, his face inches from yours. You could see the hunger in his eyes as he gazed at you.
Feeling a rush of desire, you leaned in closer to him, allowing your lips to brush against his. "Nothing," you whispered, before closing the gap between you and giving into the intense chemistry between the two of you. His lips were soft and warm against yours, and you found yourself getting lost in the moment. You knew this was wrong, but you couldn't resist the temptation any longer.
As his hand moved from your cheek to your waist, you couldn't help but feel a flutter in your stomach. His touch was gentle yet possessive, and you couldn't resist the urge to lean into him. He hesitated for a moment, but then his hand slipped under your shirt, sending shivers down your spine as his fingers traced along your bare skin. The butterflies in your stomach only intensified, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation for what was to come.
You could feel the coolness of his fingers against your skin and you flinched, but at the same time, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement. Toji's gentle touch allowed your mouth to open just slightly, and Toji took that as an invitation, eagerly pushing his tongue into your mouth. The pleasure was intoxicating and you found yourself moaning in response, losing yourself in the moment.
You knew this was wrong, making out in the hall of your hotel. Anyone could come in at the moment and see you making out with Toji. But for some reason, it sparked excitement in you - the thrill of getting caught reminded you of your teenage years when you would sneak around with him at parties. It was a reminder of the carefree and rebellious nature of youth, and you couldn't help but indulge in the moment. However, you also knew that this behavior was irresponsible and could have consequences, but the temptation was too strong to resist.
"Mm, Toji..." Feeling his hand slide up, you felt a rush of excitement as he reached your breasts. Stopping for a brief moment to ask for your consent, he said, "Can I?" You didn't even have to tell him, you just grabbed him and pulled him into another passionate kiss. Taking that as a yes, he began to gently fondle and caress your breasts, sending shivers of pleasure throughout your body.
It had been a while since someone had made out with you, but it was clear that Toji needed you. Despite being with Satoru most of your life, you had never experienced a makeout session this passionate before. Satoru's kisses were always rough, but Toji's were on another level. They were gentle, yet somehow still intense and rough at the same time. It was as if he couldn't get enough of you.
"We should stop," you said, looking away from him to see if anyone had passed by the hall. "Yeah, we should," but before you could say anything, he squeezed your breast, causing you to look at him. He laughed in a playful manner before kissing you one last time.
You rolled your eyes at him before looking at him with confusion. "Where's Megumi?" you asked. "He's at your sister's house," he replied. "I came here as fast as I could, so I asked if she could watch him."
"Are you serious? you left your soon with a bunch of strangers." you shook your head in disapproval.
"Let's go get him, I need to talk to my sister either way," you hesitently said. Turning around to get your keys out of your purse, you opened your hotel room, with Toji following behind you.
You couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt as you watched your son sleeping peacefully. You knew you had to wake him up, but seeing him so content made you hesitate. You couldn't bear to disturb his peaceful slumber, but you also knew you had to stick to the schedule. You gently shook him awake, hoping he wouldn't be too grumpy about it.
"Come on, baby, wake up." You said in a soft tone, gently trying to rouse your child from their slumber.
Sumire awoke from a deep sleep, confused and disoriented as he found himself in a hotel room. He couldn't remember how he got there, but he was suddenly filled with joy when he saw you, his mother, standing by his bedside. "Mommy!" he exclaimed excitedly, relieved to see a familiar face.
Toji stood next to you as you gently picked up your son. "Hey, let me take him for you." You silently thanked him before handing Sumire to him. Without hesitation, Sumire wrapped his tiny hands around Toji's neck and buried his face in the warmth of his embrace. You couldn't help but smile at the sweet bond forming between him and your and son.
As you walked out, you made sure to carefully lock the door behind you before heading to the elevator. Once you reached the lobby, you made your way out to the parking lot, grateful for the car your sister had rented for you. You promised yourself to thank her again when you saw her.
"Can you drive? I want to sit with Sumire," you asked. Toji simply nodded and got into the car. You carefully picked up your son and positioned him comfortably on top of you, holding him tight. You quickly checked your phone to see if you got any messages from when you left.
3 messages from "Sister" 2 messages from "My love ♡" 5 messages from "Toji Zen'in"
Confused as to why you still had Satoru as "My love" you clicked on his contact. Quickly changing it back to "ex-husband." Curious on what he texted you clicked on his message.
Y/N please call me when you see this. Please tell me if you got safe with sumire if you can.
You scoffed seeing his message. You were filled with anger and resentment upon receiving his message. 'How dare he try to act like a caring father now? He should have thought about the consequences of his actions when he decided to cheat and get another girl pregnant.' It was too late for him to try and make amends now.
You hated him so much. You couldn't believe how different Sumire was from his father. His kind and gentle nature was a stark contrast to the man you despised so much. It was almost hard to believe they were related.
"So we get megumi, I talk to my sister and we leave, Okay?" You said.
"That sounds good," Toji said, placing a hand on your thigh before carelessly rubbing it. You realized he was driving with one hand and for some reason it made him look immensely attractive. His confident and nonchalant demeanor while driving added to his charm and you couldn't help but feel drawn to him. The way his hand rested on your thigh sent shivers down your spine, making you want him even more.
Toji had a way of making you feel youthful, despite the small age difference between the two of you. Although he was only two years older, being around him made you feel more energized and alive. He had a contagious energy that could make anyone feel young and carefree.
"Toji?" Seeing him turn to look at you, you took in his features. His sharp jawline, dark hair, and piercing dark green eyes took your breath away. You couldn't help but feel a flutter in your stomach every time you looked at him. It was no wonder he was the most popular guy in school.
Everyone wanted Toji, even your sister had a major crush on him. She was a freshman when he was a senior. Little did she know you were lucky enough to make out with him the day before he graduated.
"Do you still remember how Highschool was?" With a squeeze on your thigh he began to think.
"Hmm, high school was quite boring actually," he said with a sigh. "Well, except for the fact that I could see you during passing periods," he added with a sly wink in your direction.
"You're dumb." You said, playfully rolling your eyes at him.
"I'm being completely honest with you. I had strong feelings for you, but I was told that you were in a serious relationship with Satoru, so I didn't want to interfere or make things complicated."
You smiled knowing Toji always thought of you in a romantic way, but you also couldn't help but wonder what life would have been like if you had married him instead of Satoru. Would things have been easier or more fulfilling? Would you have avoided the heartbreak and struggles you faced with Satoru?
"We're here," he said, parking the car outside the house. As the music and chatter from outside filled the car, you felt hesitant and unsure if you should actually go in.
"Here, I'll carry Sumire." He said, gently picking up your son and holding him in his arms. You were still getting out of the car, and Toji extended his hand to help you. You gratefully accepted it, feeling a sense of warmth and connection as your fingers interlocked. Together you walked inside the house.
Upon opening the door, you were greeted by Jiyuu, who appeared to have been crying. "Couldn't my day get any better." She said before shoulder checking you and walking out the door. You were in disbelief, she really just said that in front of you. Scoffing you continued to walk towards the patio.
Satoru was frustrated, Jiyuu had ran out and he had to go after her. He began walking to where she had left before stopping in his tracks and seeing you. Toji was holding his son, his baby. He looked at Toji in disgust before his eyes followed to you, seeing that you were holding hands with Toji he chuckled.
Satoru couldn't believe it. After all the trouble Jiyuu had caused, she had just run off and left him to deal with the consequences. And now, to make matters worse, he saw that you were here with Toji, holding hands with him. Satoru couldn't help but feel disgusted and betrayed by both of you. He had always hated Toji, but now it seemed that you were with him. He stood there, unsure of what to do or say next.
All he could do was just walk past you, pretend like he didnt care that you were with another man. He had priorities now, and that was to catch his pregnant lover who had just ran out.
"What a scum." you said
As you walked outside, you noticed a group of people gathered and chatting. Your eyes zeroed in on your sister's fiance, who seemed to be the center of attention. You quickly made your way over.
"Y/N, I'm glad you're safe," he said, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder.
"Where's Marie?" you asked, scanning the room for any sign of her. However, she was nowhere in sight. You wondered where she could have gone off to and if everything was okay.
"She's in her room, all the bridesmaids are in there," he said, gesturing towards the door before turning to greet Toji and your son.
Looking at Toji, he had just smiled at you and reassured you that it was okay to leave. "It's fine, go ahead. I'll take care of Megumi." His kind gesture put you at ease and you were grateful for his understanding.
You walked to your sister's room, knocking on the door before you were greeted by Utahime. She looked at you with a shocked expression, practically jumping on you. "Y/N! I'm so glad you're okay!" she exclaimed.
Walking inside, you saw all of your friends gathered in the room, with your sister on the bed crying. You immediately felt guilty, knowing that your actions had caused this emotional outburst. Without hesitation, you walked over to her and embraced her in a hug, apologizing for the scene you had made.
"I'm so sorry Marie, I didn't mean to storm off like that," you apologized to your sister, feeling guilty for your outburst. You knew that your sister deserved an explanation for your behavior and you were ready to give her one.
She reached out and took your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "You've been through a lot, but you're here now and that's all that matters," she reassured you with a warm smile. "And I completely understand if you don't want to be a part of my wedding anymore. I love you and everything you have done for me, but I want you to be happy and comfortable with your role in the wedding." You quickly cut her off, reassuring her that her feelings and opinions are important to you.
"Absolutely not, I'm staying for this wedding. Are you kidding me? I wouldn't miss it for anything," you said, hugging her again. You had been looking forward to this special occasion for months, and there was no way you were going to miss it. The thought of not being there to celebrate with your baby sister and witness her happiness was out of the question.
She smiled at you, happy that you were going to be in her wedding. "And as for Jiyuu i want her there too." you said, you're sister looked at you confused.
"Are you sure?" she asked again, concern evident in her voice. "I can take her off if you want," she reassured you, gently squeezing your hand. You could tell she genuinely cared about your well-being and wanted to make sure you were comfortable with the situation.
"No, it's fine, I have to go." you reassured your sister before getting up from the bed and giving her one last hug. "I'll be safe, don't worry. And I'll definitely text you." Your sister smiled and nodded before letting you leave the room. As you walked outside, you saw that Toji was getting along well with your sister's fiancé.
You walked towards him and gently took Megumi from his grasp, feeling grateful for his innocent and loving nature. "Hello, my sweet baby," you cooed in a soft, high-pitched voice. His eyes lit up with excitement and he wrapped his tiny hands around your neck, his pure and genuine love bringing a smile to your face.
"Well we should get going, thank you for everything." You thanked him before grabbing Toji's hand and walking towards the entrance.
Toji was walking with Sumire holding his tiny hand while you carried Megumi. You always wanted another kid. Just so Sumire wouldn't be alone. But having another child was basically impossible since his father was no longer in the picture.
However, as the wedding drew closer, you couldn't help but feel a sense of dread and sadness. Going home also meant finalizing your divorce and leaving behind the life you once knew. The impending changes and uncertainty made it difficult to truly enjoy the vacation.
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Taglist; @allofffmypeaches @wo-ming-bai @nerdiel-has-no-braincells@creolequeen11210 @doughnuts-eater @narutosagemode@lilith412426 @meojjjsworld @pandoraium @dcvilxswish @cloudsinthecosmos
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starseungs · 8 months ago
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lunchtime tea, served by yours truly. ksm.
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kim seungmin x fem!reader — getting dragged over to the student council office instead of the cafeteria was far from your lunchtime plans. too bad seungmin seemed to think otherwise.
genre/s — fluff, humor if it counts, historical fantasy, academy au, duke's son!seungmin x marquis' daughter!y/n • 1.3k words
warning/s — petty noble disputes, seungmin implies a nepotism plan (laughs nervously), both of them are in their second to the last year of academy = they're both around 21 !!
note — here's a short fic i whipped up as i finish take a shot ! yes, its inspired by those rofan manhwas with academy arcs/settings. im obsessed with those ngl
2024 ⓒ starseungs on tumblr. do not steal, repost, or edit.
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“Would it really be such a crime to enjoy one peaceful lunch session, Your Grace?”
You sank down with a huff on the smooth velvety sofa propped in the middle of the spacious office room, not paying any mind to the way the door shut with a soft click despite your strong swing to open it earlier. A pair of footsteps other than yours echoed in the space, the flat, heavy heels of the figure’s shoes clacking with strong authority. Yet, you remained unfazed despite the strong aura permeating the enclosure—choosing to stand your ground with a click of a tongue.
Seungmin sighed at the sight of your demeanor. 
“And I believe it would be against academy ordinance for you to call me by that title within the campus premises, Lady Y/N.” He reprimands you with a low drawl before carefully taking a seat at his desk located front and center against a massive glass window, his silhouette strengthening as he leans forward to rest his arms on the desk. You could only whine in mockery at his reply.
“Boo,” you scoffed before crossing your arms and craning your head to stare at him. “Such a stickler for the rules, are you not?”
Seungmin hummed. “I suppose you may be right, but could I also offer you information on my father’s well-being?” He says with a tone implying sweetness, even if you knew otherwise. 
“The Duke is alive and well—yes, I am aware,” you pressed for a smile as innocent as you could manage, enjoying the way Seungmin’s formal facade fell apart slightly before getting gathered up once again. The young Lord cleared his throat before continuing the questionable exchange between the two of you.
“Therefore, we should not be having this conversation in the first place.”
“However, you are the heir to the dukedom, if I recall correctly?”
“Yes, you do.”
You then brought your hands together in a resounding clap at his answer, signifying a remarkable conclusion. “Then it is the same thing.”
Seungmin groaned tiredly at your unbelievable words. “It is clearly not—” he suddenly paused mid-sentence. You watched as his eyes narrowed with an inquisitive glint before he took an obvious intake of air. “I’m getting the slight inkling that you are doing this to raise my temper.”
A prominent laugh bubbled its way out of your throat. “I do find that side of you quite charming, yes.”
“I will pretend to not hear your comment, My Lady,” Seungmin pinched the bridge of his nose, desperately trying to subside his growing stress. “And I would like to inform you belatedly that a peaceful lunch should be the last of your priorities at the moment.”
The involuntary squawk that came out of you voiced your offense. “Well, this is surprising news, as I have not received any notice about a new dietary restriction!”
“It is not—” Seungmin caught himself again. You grinned mischievously at his obvious struggle before collecting yourself when you felt a pointed glare being sent in your direction. He exhaled heavily, “Proceeding with the matter at hand, are you aware of the number of complaints the Theta group has placed upon your name?”
“I do believe there has not been a single soul in this academy who has not,” you hummed in acknowledgement.
“My Lady, forgive me for being rude; however, the answer I was hoping for was to be about how you are planning on addressing this issue.”
“Oh,” you blinked. “Then, I plan to do nothing about the issue.”
A small thud was heard from Seungmin’s direction, prompting you to look over to see what had caused such a sound. Low and behold, the sight of the academy’s best student holding his head down towards the polished mahogany desk in defeat—rendering you unsure of what to do next. There had only been a few times in your entire lifetime that you had seen Seungmin completely shatter his dignified demeanor, and you had known the man since you were six. Now you fear that you had actually crossed a line. 
“Y/N,” he raised his head ever so slightly to lock eyes with you, his next order coming out as a plea. “Just explain why you poured a cup of tea over Lady Colette’s head.” 
“Then forgive me as well for my words. However, in my perspective, Theta is nothing but a pathetic excuse for an institutional social group,” you sighed, remembering the events of the tea party yesterday. “I do not know why they still prove to be the most popular social group for ladies when the Zeta group has always been better. Theta are barely anything worth more than a babble of obnoxious noble daughters who prefer to place themselves on a higher pedestal than they deserve. Lady Colette was terrorizing a freshman from a country-side barony. I only did my best to stop her, considering the fact that mere words seemed to hold no interest for her.”
Seungmin raised a brow. “Quite an interesting way of describing them, don’t you think?”
“Well, I did send my apologies before doing so, did I not?” You smiled back as part of your reply, proudly this time. Seungmin could only scoff, albeit greatly amused.
“You have got to stop trying to outsmart me in times like these, Y/N,” he said, standing up. “You of all people should know how much I lack the ability to harbor ill feelings towards you.”
It was your turn to raise an eyebrow at his surprisingly favorable response. For holding the most coveted position of justice available for students in this academy, Seungmin was surely pressing less strongly on your faults. Perhaps it was a good thing that you still made sure to cool the tea before you dumped it on that Marquis’ pompous daughter.
“Playing favorites, are we now, Mr. President?”
Seungmin laughed openly this time. Talk about a change of mood. “I see that you have now chosen to switch to a different formality, yet again,” he mused on his way towards your figure on the couch. “See, you wouldn’t have this much trouble with other noble ladies if you just joined the student council.”
“Here you go again with your offer,” you said, rolling your eyes. “You of all people should know exactly why I cannot take a position in the council, Seungmin.”
“In my opinion, it would be seen as a reasonable training ground for the future Duchess.”
“You just like the way I do paperwork!” You expressed disbelief at his plan’s implication. “And high society might as well burn me into ashes, thinking that I take advantage of my position as your betrothed.”
Seungmin sighed dreamily, completely disregarding your latter comment. “I do love the way you do your paperwork. Such a perfect pair to my work ethic,” he says, sitting comfortably beside you with a relaxed exhale. “Yes, I genuinely do not see what is so wrong about the offer.”
“Seungmin,” you scowled at him. “Do you wish to put a stain on your reputation?”
“Oh, look at you scolding me as if we had already stated our vows,” Seungmin pinched your cheek in a tease. You attempted to push his hand away, only for him to grab it and intertwine your fingers, leaving you breathless as he placed a feathery kiss on your knuckles. “My dearest fiancee, I do not care what others may think of me. If I am able to, I will give anything you ask for without a silver of hesitation.” He gazed directly at your eyes, pupils swimming with unknown desire.
“My Duchess only deserves the best, after all.”
You pursed your lip at his intimate actions, feeling your stomach do crazed flips at his undivided attention. “It is quite concerning how biased you seem to be when it comes to this matter, Mr. President,” you gave in, letting yourself fall on his broad shoulder. “What have I even done to warrant your unyielding obsession with me?”
Seungmin’s chest rumbled in delight, the lull comforting your mind glazed over with his presence.
“Exist. Now, what do you think of becoming Vice President next year?”
“Serve me tea first, and I'll think about it.”
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mastertag 🔖— send in an ask if you want to be added ! 🫶
@fairyki @hysgf @euncsace @comet-falls @starlostseungmin @ameliesaysshoo @hyunverse @djeniryuu @lixxpix
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anzulvr · 2 months ago
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korosensei does this haunted house thing and makes class e go in it, the reader is really unamused so reader and karma work together to scare the crap out of korosensei
i've seen videos where people hide and reverse the roles in a haunted house instead of being a victim, i think it would be hilarious to see that with a stoic-ish reader and karma
Haunted - Karma x Reader // THIS THING DELETED TWICEE //
- End class had been completely transformed back into an abandoned looking building, much like its original state but with more of a horror factor. Korosensei went all out with Halloween decorations. He'd tried to set a few students up during the last school trip at the abandoned caves he called the "test of courage". It didn't work out, but second times a charm? He'd at least get one couple together this time.
The goal of today's "lecture" was to find a way out of the end class building without breaking any windows. Korosensei mentioned it would test everyone's problem solving abilities as assassins in training. First pair to successfully find the exit through a series of side quests, riddles and puzzles each got two free strikes at Korosensei's tentacles.
The catch? Everyone had a a rope tied around their wrist to a partner. Every move made meant your partner would be right beside you. You got stuck with Karma. You suspected it was not likely by coincidence.
Karma is very cute, but he's also the second worst classmate to be tied to. (First goes to Okajima)
“Karma will you stay still for one minute? You’re bruising my wrist!”
"I'm trying to reach the envelope on the ceiling, will you jump at the right time?"
"There's an easier way to do that."
You yanked the rope on him making him stumble over to you, you brought out a desk together and he was able to use it as a stool.
He opened the envelope and read it to you, "If you found this note go to teachers lounge to look for your next assignment.”
Hint: Keep your eyes out for something four-legged that cannot walk and has a back but no front.
You and Karma headed over to the designated location when you bumped into Rio and Okajima who looked like they wanted to kill one another.
Rios eyes softened when she looked at you. "[Name]! How's your search going?"
"Well we found a-"
Karma put his hand over your mouth before you could tell them about the note. He's not risking his win. "It's going boring, but we do need this room to ourselves, ya mind leaving?"
"Oh you want to be aloneee? Okajima get moving!"
Rio pushed him out the door. "Why couldn't I get stuck with Kanzaki..." "IM THE ONE WHO SHOULD BE COMPLAINING YOU..." Their argument got quieter as they left the area.
You looked back at Karma, "She definitely got the wrong idea."
"Yeah I wouldn't kiss you in this room."
You glared at him, "Solve the riddle before I choke you with the same rope we're tied to."
He mocking stuck his tongue out "Four legs, doesn't walk, it's obviously a chair [Name]! This is too easy."
He turned to get the envelope stuck under one of the chairs.
"Let's read it in the hall, the lights in this room are acting up."
You turned the handle but the door wouldn't budge. You started shaking the door harder hoping it would open. Karma chuckled, then he tried to open it himself and it wasn't so funny anymore.
"Do you think this is apart of the test or are we stuck?" You ask Karma.
He grinned "Change of plans, If Korosensei comes in here I'm going to need you to act possessed."
"I agree we've got to teach him a lesson on not playing Cupid or whatever but how do I do that?"
"Act crazy? Like you normally are but with more enthusiasm and growling."
You snatched the letter from him, "I'll read it."
Instructions: Close the blinds, then hold your partner's hands, chant your names in unison three times... the spirit you summon will lead you to the next step.
Holding Karmas hand while a spirit, Korosensei came to scare you two? It was clear He was trying to get you to cling onto the guy, you could only wonder how many classmates fell for one of his cheap tricks already?
Your question was quickly answered when you heard a girlish scream that sounded eerily like Maehara. Atleast one!
You chanted your names with your hands knitting together the lights completely went off in the room, you braced yourself for what would come.
Korosensei flew into the room and busted the door, you noticed his weird costume as he stood right in-front of you reciting cliche warrior dialogue you could've swore you heard in some movie Karma made you watch a week ago, Sonic Ninja something.
Without missing a beat you twisted your back and hands and started charging backwards towards your teacher, Karma had to crouch weirdly and run at the same time to not drag you down.
Korosensei sped out of the room yelling, about ten seconds later he was back with a set of candles and who knows what else to try to exorcise you.
By that time you and Karma were laughing trying to pick each other back up after you hit yourself on the ground because he stopped running and accidentally yanked you back.
Karma pointed down at Korosensei's wig which fell off when he flew out the class "Was he wearing a powdered wig?!"
Neither of you had noticed Korosensei made it back because of how much you were laughing. Karma ran his one free hand through your hair and face as if to check if you were hurt. It was weirdly gentle for how he usually is. He was casual about it, his confidence made moments like these feel completely natural and comfortable no matter how rare they were.
Maybe the haunted house didn't go exactly how Korosensei intended it to, but this was a sweet enough outcome.
"Nufufufu…"
"Korosenseiii, you ruined the moment!"
Karma laughed softly "That was a moment?"
You headed straight for the door.
"[Name] I'm still tied to you slow down!"
When you refused to listen he tugged back on the rope and wrapped his arms around you.
“Alright, I concede it was a little bit of a moment.”
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jd-loves-fiction · 8 months ago
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𝐎𝐩𝐢𝐚
n. the ambiguous intensity of looking someone in the eye, which can feel simultaneously invasive and vulnerable—their pupils glittering, bottomless and opaque—as if you were peering through a hole in the door of a house, able to tell that there’s someone standing there, but unable to tell if you’re looking in or looking out.
✦ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Sir Gawain x GN!Reader
✦ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: smut + fluff
✦ 𝐰𝐜: 2.2k
✦ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: Minors DO NOT INTERACT thanks. also DONT USE SALIVA AS LUBE THIS IS THE MIDDLE AGES WAAAAHH
✦ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: Anyway I havent written anything in a hot second, especially smut, so i might've lost my touch but this man makes me insane. Hope its still enjoyable anyway and im working on some fluffy stuff as well whoop enjoy :)
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Stupid quest. Stupid forest. Stupid rainwater puddle.
You didn't see it – you were too damn busy staring into those gorgeous brown eyes of his, lashes lowered ever so slightly in a way so tender it might as well have been what knocked you over.
“Oh goodness.” Sir Gawain exhales a second after the splash, arms reaching for you a little too late. Turns out he’d been lost staring at you as well. “A-Are you alright? Are you hurt?”
“I–” You start to deny it but think better of it. It’s Gawain, he’d know the answer just from looking at you. “I’m cold. And wet. And tired.”
“I see. Let’s find ourselves a place for the night, yes? The storm from last night might be coming back.” He tells you, reaching out a large hand to pull you up. You take it without hesitation.
Quickly finding yourselves a damp and dingy little cave to pass the night in, Gawain gets to work starting a fire as you shiver uncontrollably. 
“You know–” He begins, fumbling with two rocks and a handful of dryish branches, looking up at you for a moment, “You look good, all soaking wet.”
The warmth of his gaze sweeps over your form, lingering on your shaking shoulders, passing by the water dripping off your linen shirt and how your arms curl around yourself to keep the heat in – heat he stokes with that cheeky look, the quickness of his breath, the biting of his lovely, soft, bottom lip…
A spark goes off, catching fire to the branches, cutting the tension like a hot knife over butter. But it does not dissipate, the fire does not cool, it merely wanes to a simmer.
“I bet you’d look even better.” You blurt out, just to get the last word in before sitting by the flames, not entirely aware of what you’ve just said and where his beautiful, hasty mind would take your words. Then again, you’re much more concerned with not freezing to death.
“Trying to warm up with wet clothes isn’t going to do you any good. It isn't going to do anything at all, really.”
“What do you suggest, then?” You sigh, knees tucked to your chest, sitting opposite the dashing young knight.
“You should take off whatever clothes are wet and let them dry by the fire.” He begins shrugging off his thick wooly cape to lay on the stone floor beside him, “And sit close to me – we can share body heat.” he adds on quickly, as if he hasn't made his intentions with you clear enough throughout this journey already.
You’re not sure when it started, when his dark eyes began wandering, when his touches started lingering, or even when you started doing the same. But it’s clear to the two of you; the want– the need too transparent to hide. 
There’s more to it though, for you at least. It would be almost too easy to dive into him otherwise. Like a nymph’s bewitching calls into murky waters.
But it could never be that easy. Not with the one they may one day call King. That and his womanizinging reputation.
Expecting anything other than a purely lustful encounter out of this would be foolish to say the least, but perhaps you are a fool. Because the way he looks at you; the way he has been looking at you since– whenever you started noticing; makes you feel as if there might be a chance. 
So you do as he suggests, stripping down to the basics under his unwavering gaze, shuffling over to his side and nuzzling against him.
Questions swirl endlessly within your mind while leaning on Gawain's warm body, his shirt so thin you could almost perfectly imagine what he'd look like without it in your mind's eye.
But then, those eyes, clear as spring water in their intentions, cage you in with their stare and suddenly you feel as if everything must be laid out plainly, “What are your intentions with me, Sir Gawain?”
The look on his face nearly makes you regret it, fearing you may have offended him, but surely he’s aware of his reputation – surely he must understand.
After a beat he exhales with a slight smile as his large hand comes around to your shoulder, “Are they not clear?”
“Clear as they may be, I like things to be absolutely transparent, especially when it comes to men of your… caliber.” He hums in acknowledgement with a smirk, before it slowly slides off his face, replaced with a thoughtful expression so rarely seen it could be possession.
“I understand what you mean, love. But, in truth, I cannot answer you as of yet.” At the inquisitive look you give him he begins trying to explain himself, “It is that… Well, I am to be King somewhat soon, I assume. So it would be reckless for me to act as carelessly as I once did. But then also, I do not yet know what my intentions are – beyond tonight, that is.” Your face warms slightly at his suggestive tone as his hand drifts down your naked back, “All I know, is that you intrigue me. Greatly. If anything, I know– I feel as if… once will not be enough…”
A dark hand of long, slender fingers lifts your chin to meet his fathomless stare, looking deep into your eyes and beyond that – to your vulnerable soul. 
“I feel… the same.” You speak, suddenly breathless as your face nears his subconsciously, giving in to his siren call.
Lips meeting like a spark to a fire, a beginning. His hands wander over you, reverent, gentle, as yours grasp at the front of his tunic, urging him as close as humanly possible – as if close isn't nearly close enough.
The kiss grows fiercer, a push and pull of soft pink muscles attempting to gain control, before being forced to part, open around heaving breaths while eyes grow hazy with lust– no, yearning. Gawain draws back to shed that bothersome tunic before his hands attach themselves to your hips to pull you onto his lap. The ease with which he does it has you grinding down instantly, hands running over sweat-slick caramel skin.
His dark curls bounce as he tosses his head back under your movements, desperate for some control of the primal urges suddenly overloading his brain – to fuck you without mercy, to ruin you for anyone else – but no, that’s not how he wants this to go.
“God above, you're beautiful.” He breathes, hands stilling your hips to let his eyes sweep over your features slowly. The intensity of his gaze makes you squirm and the strength in his hands warms your inside more than the fire ever could. 
Burying your face in his gorgeous, exposed neck you speak so low not even God could hear, “Shut up and take your pants off.”
You feel him smile against your hair, laying a kiss against it before drawing away to do as you ask, somewhat clumsily, but earnestly all the same. Sitting still on his cloak, you watch him avidly, eyes catching on every new inch of dawn-hued skin revealed.
The singularity of the moment strikes you suddenly; back at the castle, amongst duties and expectations, this would never be possible – this calm, this undemanding rhythm. You have no place to be, no one to meet, so you can just be. Together.
“Where did you go?” He whispers, caressing your face with a softness undeserving of a knight’s strength, making your eyes focus back on his features and immediately surge forward to connect your lips to his, “Nowhere important.”
Gentle as a breeze Gawain lays you back, body between your legs and arms beside your shoulders. His prominent nose brushes yours softly, sensually as he parts your legs even further, “Good. I want you here with me. For this will not be a moment you’ll want to ever forget.”
“Oh,” You chuckle teasingly, back arching almost subconsciously against his warm, wide chest while his hips start moving against yours, “You’re sure of that, are you?”
“Your reaction tells me all I need to be sure.” He replies, so cocksure you’re suddenly reminded of who he’d been before the Green Knight had showed up proposing a ridiculous game – knowing he hasn't changed completely is oddly comforting.
“You talk too much… Sir.” You grumble in lieu of remaining silent and further inflating his ego, getting a raised brow at the tacked-on title.
“But you like it, don't you? Don't lie to me, it's unbecoming.” The corners of his lovely lips twitching with the effort not to laugh. Quick as a flash, your legs lock around his waist, pulling his center down to yours and he’s forced to take a breath from between his teeth as his long lashes flutter, “Like I said; you talk too much.”
Gawain bites his tongue – there will be plenty of time to get back at you once you’re mindless and thoroughly spent – he reasons. For now, he just needs to get you there.
One large hand settles at the base of your throat as his luscious lips travel down your neck in flickers of contact that have you arching against his firm grip for more. Soft as a feather, he pulls away your undergarments as needed to kiss at your chest; sweetly at first and then so wet and sloppy you’re left gasping and whimpering, hands grasping at his strong shoulders for purchase.
Grabbing you below the knees, he gently pries your legs open while kissing down your body until you're tingling and trembling all over wishing he'd just get to it.
“Gawain…”
“Hmm? Are you going to beg? Go on.”
You pout petulantly; no you won't beg, he'd enjoy that far too much. But you can, however, tempt him into doing what you want.
“Gawain…” you moan seemingly helplessly, nails brushing his skin making him shiver in delight, “won't you take me? It's clear you want to.”
“It's clear, is it?” He chuckles breathlessly, ceasing completely to just watch you and it makes you want to smack the back of his head in frustration.
Breathing deep, your eyes move over him carefully, appreciating every inch of delicious, exposed skin so many yearn to catch a glimpse of before…
“Gawain,” you raise an amused brow, surely he noticed… “Yes?”
Oh, he's far too good at playing dumb.
You raise yourself until your lips barely brush his, brown hues watching you closely down the length of his nose before your hand boldly presses down on his stiff cock and those eyes glaze over before rolling back in overwhelming delight, “I'd call this pretty obvious.”
Hand squeezing in pulses, you're granted a low groan followed by a deep sigh, “God, you're too much. I cannot– wait.”
Gawain's mouth devours yours, hungry as a wolf, pushing down once more while his lithe fingers graze the inside of your thighs, grinning at what he finds. Cheeks warming at how your mouth chases his as he pulls back, he gives his palm a full lick before wrapping it around his throbbing cock and stroking. The flames illuminate this length of his gorgeous neck like an old painting and your tongue longs to glide over it and follow the path of his sweat so deeply you almost miss him speaking, “Will you beg now?”
You groan most crudely, far over his games and his perfect face and his disarming voice and his damned haughtiness– your hand grasps the curls at the back of his head, delighting in his whimpered response, “Take me now or so help me–,” your not proud of the way your voice wavers but you’re both past that now.
Gawain’s lips connect with yours surprisingly softly, leaning his forehead against yours and lining himself up with your center, “Shh, I’ve got you, just relax.”
A kiss to your hairline is the only warning you get before he starts pushing into you, slow as can be and yet still you cry out at the feeling in between the kisses he places to your lips to offer some comfort.
“There we go, breathe for me. It’ll feel better soon…”
“Gawain…” You moan, clinging onto him as the bite of initial pain melts into pleasure.
Sucking on your neck, his hips sway against yours rhythmically, wavering only when your nails dig into his sides while moaning desperately in his ear, “Gawain please…”
“Now–” his breathing stutters while his hips buck suddenly, pressing a collection of whispered curses from both of your mouths, “Now you beg?”
“Just please fuck me, please.”
The way his cock twitches inside you tells all you need to know on how he feels about your words.
Curls brush the side of your neck as he reaches to bite at your lobe, grunting and moaning into it while speeding up his hips so much your own moans become stuttered and desperate.
As the end nears, Gawain presses his lips to yours, nearly missing in his eagerness, and opens his mouth as if to say something but no words leave him, only a loud moan of your name ringing across the cave just as your body does the same.
Your mind is eerily quiet as you come down, blinking eyes you don't recall closing and feeling the next king breathe against your naked chest while gathering himself. After a moment he raises himself on shaky arms to gaze down at you, hand reaching to brush a stray hair from your cheek and sighing as if suddenly, all is right in the world.
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mrsrileywrites · 9 months ago
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Hi! I read lots of your work and im SO IN LOVE!!! Like I absolutely fell so hard for papa simon 😭😭 i wanna give him a babyy! But i was wondering, how would pregnancy be like with his child. I mean bro is HUGE so his baby would probably be not only pretty big and probably weight a little bit more too than an average newborn. If its okay with you would it be possible for you to write a little story maybe add a little bit of angst? (Idk like argument about something that made the reader really sad?) but please a happy ending 🥹
Feel free to ignore if thats not your thing or just not feeling comfortable writing about it!! LOVE YOUU!! Btw sorry for any misspelling English is not my first language.
First of, as a not native English speaker, your English is perfect.
And second, thank you for your kind words, it really encourages me to keep writing and also boosts my ego 😁
You asked in such a nice and respectful way so I really want to make you happy.
Now here's the thing, I'm an adult with lots of responsibilities and sometimes adulting makes me tired, like last night when I was trying to finish this but I fell asleep and I woke up this morning to find half of my writing disappeared, it just vanished 🥲
But I'll give you this to munch on and I promise I'll finish this before the end of the week.
I hope this is what you were expecting... Enjoy 🫶
A little over 700 words.
_______________________
You stood in front of the sink of your bathroom, holding a pregnancy test on your shaky hands, two little red lines staring right back at you.
How did this happen? How would you tell him? He doesn't want kids, he made it clear from the beginning and you accepted it without a fuss, that's why you've been taking your pills diligently every day, you didn't forget one, did you?... No, you know you didn't, how did this happen?
"You okay there, love?" Simon knocks on the bathroom door and you jump in surprise, like a child that's been caught red handed.
"Y-yes Si, j-just give me a minute... I'll be right there." Your period is about three weeks late so you bought a pregnancy test, your best friends advice, it wouldn't hurt, it was just to make sure, you certainly were not expecting this.
You hid the test on the cabinet under the sink and washed your face before coming out.
It's been a week since your ob-gyn confirmed a six weeks pregnancy and you still haven't found the courage nor the right time to break the news to Simon, so when he gets a call from Price to get deployed on a long mission you fear it would be too late by the time he comes back.
One month at most he said when he kissed you goodbye almost two months ago, you are 16 weeks into your pregnancy and your bump is starting to show, which only adds to your anxiety, between the morning sickness and your hormones being all over the place you still haven't figured out how to tell him.
As you ponder how to break the news to him, you realize that a simple phone call wouldn't suffice. With him stationed on the other side of the globe, risking his life every day, you hesitate to burden him further. At the same time, you know it wouldn't be ideal for him to return home and suddenly find you waddling around with a baby bump.
So you stay quiet and whenever he calls and asks why you sound so exhausted you blame it on your job, you say you are just stressed out, and he promises he'll take care of you once he's back, he'll relieve you from the stress the way you like it, the way only he knows how to.
You are laying on the couch wearing Simon's t-shirt, stuffing yourself with your favorite ice cream and watching trash tv when you hear fumbling outside your front door before it swings open, a very rugged Simon stands in the threshold , you curse under your breath, he didn't say he was coming home the last time you talked on the phone three days ago so you stand there and look at him overly conscious of the bump hiding under his t-shir and you thank the heavens he is a big man, you think the loose fit of his T-shirt would buy you time, your ice cream long forgotten in the coffee table.
He walks towards you with long strides as he pulls his balaclava over his head running his fingers through his messy hair and you shy away, you step back and freeze, eyes wide like a deer caught in the headlights, he stops in his tracks and tilts her head, his eyebrows pinch as his eyes linger on your midsection and you know you're fucked, he noticed, how wouldn't he, and you hope and pray he'd say something, anything, but he doesn't, he turns on his heels ready to walk out.
"Simon wait!" You call for him and he stops, his hand lingers on the door knob, "I can explain, please just hear me out" your voice cracks and you wish you had been brave enough to tell him before, you know about his childhood and his trauma, you know his struggles and why he didn't want children in the first place, he trusted you and you broke his trust, you deceived him from the moment you found out you were pregnant and decided to keep it to yourself because you were too scared to trust him back.
"Explain what?" He shouts turning around and walking towards you again, your hands fly to your belly instinctively, protective. You lower your head, eyes glued to the floor, ashamed.
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presleyluvschris · 9 months ago
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Hey I got a request for jj
That jj is a single dad to a baby girl and he is to scared to hold because he will think he will drop her and John b everyday will try and get jj to hold her then one day jj was holding her on his chest then he takes her everywhere With him hope that make sense
Koala Care
dad!jj x fem!reader x daughter
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a/n ahh this is so cutie! thank you for the request anon, love you bunches!
desc JJ holds his baby girl for the first time
wc 1.2k
warnings cursing, grammar, fluff
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"Peaches?" JJ comes in through the back door of the chateau, carefully shutting it behind him as he walks through the kitchen to set down a box full of baby supplies.
The usual. Diapers, baby food, her favorite yogurt melts, more of his old band & surf t-shirts to wrap her up in.
He notices Aria crying her eyes out behind him in between the white rails of her bed. he must have forgotten to change her when he left. He also noticed it was pissing off John B who was trying to work on something probably useless and he caught the hint that he's been listening to her cry for at least an hour.
"Shit," he mutters, messing with his backwards hat as he turns his attention away from Aria for a split second to glance at John B. Turns out he was fixing a cooler for the boat.
"Bro." he goes over to him, kicking him in the leg slightly, "You seen Y/n? I really need her help knowing what measurements of tit milk I'm supposed to feed mini me."
John B rolls his eyes to the ceiling as he screws in the side of the cooler handle.
"First of all," he says through a gritted tone from a bolt in between his teeth.
"You gotta stop with the teenage boy, language wording shit."
He spits out the bolt and screws another nail into the bottom.
"You're like a dad now. Its your dick and your daughter, buddy. You really want your kid to go around saying, tit milk?"
JJ tuts. "Bro she cant even talk yet. Plus, I don't remember half the shit i said as a fucking baby. Maybe thats cause my dad probably beat the shit out of me where I like- lost half my cells, but i ain't changing. Plus, daddy will raise her to be the best hooker of man kind. Shes a Pogue, shes not gonna be a goody two shoes if my life depends on it."
John B turns his head around and gives him a look.
"Jesus Christ JJ, did anything click when your girlfriend popped a living thing out of her ass?" He purses his lips.
JJ points his lips downwards and shrugs.
"Or are you always gonna be known as the dad who raised a stripper?" John B rolls his eyes again, taking a weird clear plate out of his box, "Y/n is a doctor for fucks sake, she's the only hope for raising her I swear to God."
John B shakes his head, "I've told you everyday now. You haven't even held her yet."
JJ grips his hat, "Thats because im gonna drop the kid!"
John b slaps his forehead.
"You're litterally her DAD, JJ! Y/n popped a baby out of her kitty sack and you seriously didnt even touch her the day she was born." John B raises his eyebrows. "Do you remember that? Y/n cried in Kie's room FOR AN HOUR thinking you didnt want the kid!"
JJ opens his mouth to respond then stops.
"Whatever. Go back to fixing your cold box and shit," He turns his back to walk away.
John B changes the tip on his screwdriver, "You're gonna have to hold your own ass daughter eventually, dude."
"I hope you screw a nail in your dick!" JJ calls out and tuts again, mumbling under his breath, "teaching me how to handle my own kid..."
"im the one fixing this goddamn cooler so you can drink your shit ass blue moon chilled!" John b yells back, JJ opening the door and slamming it shut to try and find you again.
"y/nnnn," he groans, calling out your name, finding you sitting on the steps outside.
He kneels down and wraps his big arms around you, kissing the side of your head gently.
"Hi baby," he mutters, "How was work?"
you felt your head pulsating before forcing yourself to give a response.
"Hmmm fine. it was busy."
"Yeah?" he strokes your head, "Real quick."
You sigh slightly, "Hmm?"
"how much ti-" He stops, and clears his throat.
"How much milk do I need to feed Ari?" He says in a soft voice, knowing you had a blaring headache from your shift.
You exhale, leaning your arms on your knees.
"theres about 7 oz in the fridge."
He nods, "thank you sweets," he kisses your hair one last time before leaving you in peace to rest your mind.
He goes back inside the chateau, opening the fridge and taking out the bottle, reaching over Aria's crib and putting the tip to her mouth.
"there we are, sweet girl.." he holds the back of her head while she drinks gently, her cries settling down.
After Aria is finished, he stares at her for a moment.
Why was it so hard for him to hold his own daughter? He feels a wave of guilt floods over his spine.
He reaches his hands out, then stops.
"God damnit," He sighs.
"Okay." He stares at Aria one more time. "3, 2.."
"Fuck this."
He picks Aria up gently in his arms, his heart jumping as he does so.
"Holy shit," he breathes. "Oh my God."
He holds her to his chest, making sure to support her back, something he learned in a parenting book he found online as he feels his soul melt in his stomach.
"There we go," he coos softly, rocking her up and down gently.
"Hi love." he holds her up to look in her eyes with the biggest grin on his face.
"You have your mommas eyes, don't you?"
It's like he fell in love with you all over again. Just this time, it was a baby. And it was his baby.
He holds her to him again, hearing you opening the screen door to come back inside the chateau as he looks at you with the stupidest smile on his face.
"JJ.." you breathe, a grin full of your white perfect teeth filling the room as you jog over to him.
You rub his arm gently as you stare at Aria in JJ's arms.
"im so glad." You said, tears slightly filling the bottom of your eyes as your breath catches in your throat.
"She has your eyes," He repeats the observation he made earlier.
You nod with a sniffle, chuckling slightly.
"She has your lips."
JJ presses another soft kiss into the side of your neck.
A few days later, you noticed that JJ dorkily bought one of those baby carrier things to attach to your chest, and you had to admit it was pretty cute seeing Aria giggle with him, taking her everywhere he went.
John B was relieved her finally built up the balls to hold his kid, and if you were honest, you were relieved too.
Kiara bullied him everyday for taking Aria with him everywhere because the baby holder he chose was literally hot pink. Really hot pink.
He was so happy everyday. To be the dad that he never had. The one he had prayed and wished for everyday as a kid.
JJ was such a tough guy, tough face, tough love, tough soul.
but I guess not when it came to you and Aria. You and her were his new world and there was nothing in the entire universe that could take that away from him.
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☆ divider & gif credits to @viixcyre @baby-bearie
my navigation ♡
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nfr-girly · 1 year ago
Text
Little Hope - Bradley Bradshaw x reader (Part 1)
Bradley’s priority’s have always been the navy and his daughter, hope, but what happens when his daughter’s teacher comes into the mix?
a/n: literally never wrote a fic before let me know if it’s good
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Ever since Bradley and his ex had split up, he had been his daughter’s main guardian. He doesn’t really speak to his ex, and he doesn’t want to. Balancing being a dad and the navy wasn’t easy, so when the time came for Hope to go to pre-school, he couldn’t complain.
“Hey have you got your bag?” Brad asked
“Yes!!”
“And did you brush your teeth?”
“Of course I’m not like you” she rolled her eyes jokingly, to which he smiled at
He strapped her in her seat and pulled out of the drive. Brad was feeling all types of emotions, relief that he could spend some more time in the navy while she learns, sad that she’s growing up, also happy for her to make friends. He didn’t like feeling emotions. He never thought it ended well, and in his case it never had.
Pulling into the car park of the school, he stops for a minute. The school is a good size; he sees kids running around, parents talking to each other. He feels a sense of hope that she’ll be okay, but the other half is telling him to take her back home.
“Daddy are we going in??” Hope asks, the gap where her tooth was showing clear, she sits cuddling her bear.
“Oh yeah honey sorry” he gets out and unstraps her out her seat; they walk hand in hand towards the school.
Walking along he feels some eyes on him, at first he thinks maybe they’re judging him, or worst, hope. But as he glances he realises some of the mums are checking him out. He looks away quickly, he had decided to wear a very tight shirt today.
He walked into classroom 2b, which was what classroom hope was apparently in. He looks around and sees the back of who he guesses is the teacher. He waits till she’s done talking to a student.
But as soon as she turned around, Bradley had completely zoned out everything around him but you. As you notice him, you give him a smile and start walking towards him. If he didn’t feel nervous already, he absolutely did now.
“Hi!! Im Miss L/N!! I assume you are hope?” You kneel down to match hopes height, while Bradley’s eyes are still on you. He would’ve thought he had landed in heaven seeing you.
“Yes!! This is my daddy!!!” Hope says, tugging at Bradley’s shirt. He snaps out of his trance as you get up again, trying to understand what just happened
your POV
Being in the presence of Hopes father could be classed as its own national holiday, because being able to meet a man that gorgeous should be celebrated.
“Hi! My names Miss L/N, but you can just call me Y/N” I whisper the last part
“Hi.. Im uh- im hopes dad, but my names Bradley” he says as he shakes my hand. I don’t even know if I can think the things I’m thinking about a students dad, but who gives a shit.
“Nice to meet you Bradley, I just know hope will have a great time here!” I smile at him, which he grins back at.
“Yeah I hope. She’s feeling excited so it should be alright. so uh I gotta get going now, but pick ups at 3:15 right?”
“Yeah!” I reply; feeling sudden disappointment from him having to leave
“Hey honey I’ll be back soon okay?” He has a little conversation with his daughter, I notice a lot of features they share, same nose, same eyes. It makes my heart fill with warmth even more
He gives her a peck on the cheek before getting up.
“Well I’ll uh, pick her up at 3:15 then” he says
“Yeah um see you then” I smile
He smiles back before turning around and heading out the door.
“So hope let’s get you to your desk and meet your classmates okay!” I say
“Okay!” She smiles as we walk towards the classroom. She talks about her teddy bear, and how she named him Rooster, I assume maybe she likes roosters? Half of the conversation I may have been thinking back to her dad. God, why is 3:15 so far away?
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starscabaret · 10 months ago
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Hear me out…
Jaden getting addicted to reader’s smile as she becomes his own addiction
Smile Struck Introduction
pairing: yandere! Hood Drug Dealer Jaden 💸 x Fem Reader
summary : meeting of course, its a little long but enjoy n give feedback! I love Jaden omg
warnings: drugs will be involved in most of his stories… he’s a drug dealer duh! and cursing
Authors note : check out my oc profiles to learn more about jaden
Jaden liked to drive to clear his head. Of course, he could relax at home. But something about driving with no purpose other than to think and listen to music calmed him. There was no destination, that would ruin the relaxation. He just drove until he felt calm. He could think straight. Breathe easy. 
And he loved his car. He cared for it like it was his first and only child. He never let his car get dirty. Never missed an oil change. Hell, he never even let the gas go below a quarter of a tank. His car was just one of the things he was proud of. His career choice although illegal, he was proud of.
He always made sure his family was straight. He played it safe, he had little to no enemies, and his criminal record was clean. He also had respect. In his hood, people knew and respected him. He didn’t sell to kids, he didn’t go around starting fights, and he didn’t bring the cops snooping around in the area. 
It was a Monday night, people weren’t exactly blowing up his phone trying to get served, so he had time for his relaxing drive. As his drive neared its end he stopped at a nearby gas station. His car would attract attention of course, but nothing most folks weren’t used to. This was the inner city, with plenty of tricked-out cars. 
He wanted a pack of gum and a bottle of water. Also to fill his beloved car with premium gas. He loved to chew gum. Later you’d notice when you kissed him you could taste it. 
He hopped back on the highway to head home. He felt great. Things were good for him. Business was good. Life was good. His mom didn’t have to worry about much. That’s what mattered most to him. 
A smile on his face as he drove, was soon removed. He felt the powerful jolt of another car hitting his rear. He was a player but not too player for a seatbelt luckily. He was unharmed …. But his most prized possession was not. His jaw clenched as he unbuckled his seatbelt to get out of his car and assess the damage. Oh, and curse the other driver the fuck out! 
They were 100 percent at fault. They rear-ended him. He would never drive so recklessly not in his baby! When he stepped out of his car he was bombarded by you.
“OH MY GOD, ARE YOU OK??? IM SO FUCKING SORRY PLEASE DO NOT CALL THE POLICE!!!”, you screamed frantically with tears streaming down your face. In your disheveled state, you grabbed him, hands all over his chest checking for injuries. 
Wow, you were breathtaking even in tears and in shock. He had expected some ugly ass old man had hit his car. Not you, the most gorgeous woman he had seen in a while. He had to get on your good side. So instead of cursing you out as previously planned he grabbed your hands and held them to his chest, “I’m fine, are you ok? no cops sweetness I promise.”
“Oh hello, my goodness, yes I’m ok, but I’m sure my car isn’t, and I don’t even want to think about what I’ve done to yours.” You replied hands still in his against his chest.
“Don’t worry we’ll get it fixed, from the looks of it mine is still drivable… but yours … you should probably call your man to pick you up.” He was fishing, he hoped and prayed you didn’t have a man. And even if you did, no one he couldn’t get rid of.
“Uh no actually I don’t have a boyfriend, I’ll call my dad, he’s going to kill me …fuck.” With that realization, you began to sob. Cute, you were a little crybaby. 
“Shh shhh, I can drive you, and I can get it towed I know a guy it’s free.” He cooed; he already didn’t like to see you cry. Especially if he could fix it. He had tons of connections, none with a tow truck though, no worries he’d pay. 
“No that’s too much, I fucked your car up, and now you’re helping me, you should be getting my information and taking my dumb ass to court.” You replied. 
“Oh yeah that, let’s exchange information, I just need your name and number my insurance company can sort the rest out.” That was a lie, he didn’t plan on filing a claim, and he had enough cash on him to cover the repairs. But he did need your name and number. 
“Of course, it’s f/n l/n, 000-000-0000” you spoke while he inserted it in his phone and texted the tow company. 
“Got it, my guy is on the way with the tow truck, oh and I know a nice repair shop it’ll be the cheapest I told him to take it there. I’m sure I can get you a low price.” Now that was the truth, his uncle had one of the best repair shops in the city. The price would be free because he would pay and not tell you. 
“My gosh I can’t thank you enough sir, you are so nice, especially considering the circumstances” You couldn’t believe the kindness and mercy of this handsome … very handsome stranger after you hit his very expensive car. 
“No problem, it’s what I do. You can call me Jaden, not sir, sweetness. Hop in, I’ll take you wherever you need.” He replied with a smirk. 
And that’s when he saw it…. Your smile. Your smile was so big, bright, and beautiful. He swore he almost fell over. Your smile was natural he could tell you never had braces but cared for your teeth. They weren’t fake like the veneers lots of girls would get these days, they were natural in color. He swore he could count all 32 of them. 
You were gorgeous before. but something about that smile. It did things to him, his mind, his body. He knew he would do literally anything to keep that smile on your face. Whatever it took, whatever he could do. And if it was something he couldn’t, he’d become a better man for you so he could. 
He had to see you again. He had to make you want him like he wanted … no needed you. Even though you had nearly demolished the back side of his first love, and when he thought about the damage, he damn near threw up. You had given him the opportunity to insert himself into your life, so maybe it wasn’t so bad after all. 
So, as he drove to your apartment, you two talked, starting to get to know each other. You both liked what you saw and what you heard. He realized you were new to the city, no close friends, or relatives. No way to get to and from work while your car was being repaired. So, he offered. Of course, at first, you declined it was too much. You barely knew each other, he had already done so much, what about his job? He reassured you and told you he owned his own business it was fine, what else would you do? So, you agreed. He was elated, now he could see his sweetness every day. At least for a little. But no, it wouldn’t end there, he was smooth. He’d ask you out before your car was fixed. Fuck that he’d ask you as soon as possible. He didn’t mean to rush things. He just knew you were perfect for him. 
The first day he came to pick you up, you texted him to honk and just text he was outside. But he was a gentleman at least for you. He came to your door and knocked. You were shocked but smitten by the gesture. Even more so when he had breakfast ready for you in his car, opened all the doors for you, buckled you in, and asked what you wanted to listen to. That same evening, he asked you on a date at the end of the week. To which you agreed. You were excited, he was kind, and so many other things. Your rides to and from work were filled with laughs and smiles from both of you. 
On that Saturday evening, you two went on your first date. He made sure to trap all week so he could spoil his darling. He took you to a very nice restaurant. He sat beside you in the booth, not across from you. He liked to be closer to you. His large body blocked you in and you couldn’t even be seen by outsiders he liked that. Your outfit was beautiful. For work, you still looked stunning, but you dressed more formally, not yourself. But here with him on this date, you let your creativity flow in your outfit. He was fly, and you matched it. It wasn’t revealing but man did it arouse him, you always did.
At the end of your date at a mom-and-pop ice cream shop. Where of course once again you insisted on paying, he frowned at you and pulled out a stack of cash. Your displeasure disappeared once you two were at the table sharing ice cream. You even used the same spoon. You didn’t realize it, but he did, it was intentional he was even feeding you. He made sure you got a spoonful first, so he could taste you off the spoon. When he drove you to your apartment and came to a park you turned to him, “Jaden, I don’t want to seem fast, or like a hoe or something but I really like you. Thank you for everything, from my car to the perfect date.”
If he could Jaden would dap himself up. He knew he had a game. But with you, he had to be careful, you were special. He turned to you and spoke up, “It’s no problem sweetness, any man would do it for the woman he’s interested in.” He said as he grabbed your hand from the console intertwining it with his and kissing the back of it. 
Whew, your pussy was on fire. You had to get out of this car before he had you in the backseat. Then he’d really think you’re a hoe. Of course, he wouldn’t but you thought so. “Jaden uhm I should probably head inside, would you … would you like a kiss?” You could barely get it out before he grabbed the back of your neck kissing you deeply. You were starstruck, while he seemed so calm, so reserved. But inside he was crazy for you. The kiss was perfect, your lips and his lips together sent a chill down his spine and made this dick throb. He willed it down. He would be good to you. 
“Goodnight y/n, let me walk you up, I’ll text you when I get home. You will call me before you go to sleep, sweetness?”, He asked. 
“Of Course, Jaden,” you replied. 
He planned on making you some part of his life the day you met but this week and tonight’s date sealed the deal, and if that wasn’t enough, you smiled at him with all 32 of your teeth before you closed and locked the door to your apartment. There it was that smile; damn he was absolutely sprung. 
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raitonsfw · 1 year ago
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There srsly needs to be more bby boy Nagito stuff, idk what's wrong with ppl 😭 I'm requesting Nagito with his s/o that were a couple before the neo world program, and once Monokuma announces the killing game, Nagito's sweet mommy s/o makes it clear that no one's laying a finger on him, getting very overprotective. During Nagito's hope rants, his s/o is just glaring at the classmates like "dammit y'all better listen to what my bf has to say". They/she also praises him a lot during investigations and for leading the class trials. 🤗
𝚒'𝚕𝚕 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗 | 𝚔𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚎𝚍𝚊 𝚗𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚝𝚘
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synopsis: The sun and the sea taunted you as the bear played with your downfall, but more detrimentally, your boyfriend who had offered himself up to the entire class with the extent of death knocking at his door. or; a rewritten chapter one of super danganronpa 2, with an insert of overprotective reader and slight baby boy nagito.
warnings: gn!reader and or fem!reader, spoilers for chapter 1 of sdr2, cursing, fits of despair, a crapload of hope references, a kiss with implied smut (nothing nsfw is explicitly written), nagito and reader are a couple, slight praising, affection, petnames (my love, angel, baby boy), reader would do anything for nagito, implied violence (the first victim), mentions of death, mentions of blood, primarily angst?, its not totally on brand with the request im so sorry!🥺
a/n: gave me a beautiful excuse to rewatch the entire first chapter of sdr2 (tysmmmm). i tried my best for the baby boy(ness) of it all, but my brain wasn’t working with me as i wrote so there’s only slight mentions. i didn't write past the second half of the trial because if i actually wrote in the blackened from chapter 1, the reader probably would’ve jumped over the trial stands to attack them for trying to hurt nagito. idk why i struggled so much, ugh but i promise promise promise i can write nagito better than this i swear. wc: 2.9k. m.list
now playing: moving up in the world by dagames
divider credit: @benkeibear & @firefly-graphics
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The sun shone against the beach and you squinted at it in confusion. Another bad dream, you thought but then it all rushed back to you. It was something like a dizzy spell, the classroom you had been seemingly teleported out of felt surreal as you sat on the grains of sand surrounding you. You looked over to your right, your vision blurred and saw someone also laying next to you, unconscious and plastered on their side.
And then the pixelated green came into view as you blinked away the fuzziness, your heart nearly punching up to the base of your throat. You let out a disgruntled noise, crawling over towards him to see if he was breathing, ‘cause if he wasn’t– You couldn’t bear that thought, pushing it back within the crevices of your mind as you ran your palm over his arm.
“Nagito, Nagito!” You called out as you shook him gently from the rasps of the trance, hoping he’d respond. His chest rose and fell to your relief, and you studied the details of his face. His eyes were closed and his mouth slightly agape but no noticeable scars or wounds stuck out to you and your heart fell back to normal with a steady pulse. You shook him again, this time a little more forceful, and he awoke with a start. His eyes shot open and he took in the picture before him, sitting up quickly. Nagito groaned quietly as the sun hit him directly in the eyes and he rubbed them carefully, trying to make sense of what had happened.
You saw his realization dawn on him. “Y/N.” 
Nagito immediately hugged you, much more tightly than he ever had before and you held onto him as he buried his hands into the wisps of your hair. He felt calm, the aura around him filling up the spaces in your confusion as he looked at you for the first time since the classroom. His grayish eyes clued in onto the mayhem they had encountered when the pink rabbit explained their future school trip. But what he couldn’t hide was his truth, the iniquity wedging itself in between his seams, the spiraling circles within his pupils, the hope that he so desperately craved on the tiny island. 
And you were to make sure he had all the hope he needed rushing through his veins, whatever it takes for your partner. 
When you two met each other’s eyes in the midst of the tiny classroom, you were both confused. It seemed as if you had forgotten things about the other, something in between but you couldn’t quite figure out what. All that came to you was the newfound love you had acquired for him, being as you had started dating him a few months before he was accepted into Hope’s Peak Academy. 
You tried to remember the missing piece but as he glanced at you, his mouth opening slightly, the doors slid open again and the last student made his way into the classroom. Your head had become totally muddled and as you moved on closer to Nagito, his mouth had been basically sewn shut with the presence of the new classmate. He was assessing the reality of the issue they were facing and you decided not to bother him, letting his mind wander. 
As the waves crashed against your ears in the background, you were faced with another revelation. That he was safe– here with you, that one instance made the whole weirdness much more easy to handle. 
“I’m sure everything’s okay.” Nagito assured, a kind smile resting against the frivolities of his demeanor.
“It’s just a school trip.” You nodded, agreeing with him. It was going to be okay. 
“A happy school trip full of hope.” 
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“Wh-What just…happened…?” Nagito spoke in between the dead silence, the other students peering at each other with horrified looks. 
No one dared answer him, half of the students looked like they were about to faint. You included. 
The entirety of Jabberwock park had felt like death seeped in and took hold, the pained feeling sinking into the cracks of the sidewalk. Monokuma had just disappeared along with the Monobeasts hovering behind his tail and you felt the anguish of his despairing words weigh you down heavily, your heart threatened to burst as the thought of what the stuffed bear explained. 
You needed to protect him, the thought following closely as you remembered every single syllable of the rules Monokuma mentioned. You didn’t want to be murdered, your brain reeling with all the possibilities of what could happen. But more importantly– most importantly, you didn’t want Nagito to die. You were painfully aware of his self-depreciating tendencies and sometimes he scared you with quiet comments about death. 
“I guess I’ll offer myself up first if this is a killing game. Maybe we can find some hope in my death if we all work together in favor.” You heard Nagito announce with a wavering confidence and you snapped your neck towards him. 
Like that.
A staggered look spread on your face and you felt your cheeks become hot with anger. You couldn’t find your footsteps fast enough, your entire body moving into front of Nagito and you shielded your hands up. Hajime went to protest but you beat him to it, your mouth flying open. 
He was not fucking sacrificing himself in the name of hope. You cut that cord short, on second thought he had all the hope he needed at the moment.
“No one’s laying a finger on anyone, you hear me?!” You burst out, your annoyance through the roof. “Especially not Nagito. We can figure this out another way, we’re not sacrificing our friends. Don’t even think about it.” 
“We’re not going to kill, no one here’s like that.” Hajime interjected, albeit a bit hesitant. “We’re not sacrificing anyone.” 
“The fear that Monokuma instilled in everyone though...Hajime, are you positive someone won’t? At this point, it seems to be fully plausible that someone could potentially kill someone with the notion of that escape motive.” Byakuya spoke up and his words felt like a thousand bricks. 
He was right, that motive was extremely compelling. But it didn’t phase you in the slightest.
Everything you had was behind you, the white haired man leaning into your backside as you defended him. There was nothing for you at home, everyone just about had left you and you promised with a solemn word that you’d give your everything to Nagito. You tried not to be too mad at him, you understood the situation completely. He was just trying to help, even as fucking idiotic as his words seemed to be in that precise moment.
“Babe, it’s okay.” Nagito leaned down towards your ear, murmuring the pet name affectionately and you felt his hands rest against your shoulders. “I don’t mind being a stepping stone for hope.” 
You whipped your head around to face up at him, the insolence draining within your vocals as you spoke to him. “We’ll talk later.” You continued, towards the rest of your classmates. “If you so much as look at him the wrong way, the blackened will certainly be me. And I will get both of us off this island without so much as a hint of regret.” 
“It doesn’t work like that.” Mahiru stated. 
You didn’t care. Everyone looked uneasy, a great tension had begun to hover over you. If you had to be the bad guy in this situation so no one would touch your boy, it was worth it for them to be basically eying you like a mastermind. Hajime glanced at you as you nearly seethed your sentence, backing up into him as a way to protect him. “Do not touch him.” 
Without a second thought, you grabbed Nagito by the collar of his shirt and dragged him back towards the bridge to the cottages, his small frame bending down as you two walked. As you passed through the hotel gate, you let his shirt go with a sigh as you fully realized the scene you made. “I’m sorry, angel. I got too carried away again.” 
“No, it’s okay really! I was out of line.” He apologized with an awkward smile and you were taken aback by his confession. He straightened up, smoothing over his shirt with a quiet hum. “Someone will kill someone though and if it has to be me, I honestly don’t mind.” 
“Promise me you won’t start anything.” You made to say, ushering him inside of your cottage. He immediately beelined for the foot of your bed, sitting against it carefully as you closed the door behind you. You locked it and made to shut the blinds of the windows when you heard him flop onto the bed with a tired exhale. “Nagito?”
“I’m okay, just thinking.” He said with a sigh, his eyes fixed on the ceiling as you made your way to him. You sat next to him, crossing your leg over the other as you leaned one of your palms on his thigh. He glanced down at you, his eyebrows raising slightly as you gently patted it.
“No, seriously. Please don’t start anything.” You quietly said again. “I don’t want to lose you, you’re quite literally the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
Nagito sat up, his shirt rucking down the pit of his tummy and you smiled at him as he leaned closer to you. His hair was a bit messy from the day and you tangled your other hand into it, smoothing it upwards. He hummed happily at the feeling, closing his eyes. “I’m happy that it’s you I’m trapped on an island with.” 
“And a bunch of other people.” You laughed quietly, intertwining his hand with yours against his thigh as you continued brushing his hair out with your fingers. “But yeah I’m glad too, baby boy.” 
You saw his face light up, a blush spreading across his face. You swore you felt his heartbeat quicken, the small pulses against your chest as you leaned into him to kiss him. He returned the gesture with another low hum, with much more oomph than usual. 
“You take such good care of me, Y/N.” He whispered against your lips, smiling into it. “What would I do without you?”
“You’re lucky to be alive, you know.” You wearily reminded him as you pulled away from him and his face dropped with the realization. You don’t know what Nagito had realized, maybe it was the subtle hint of his talent keeping him alive but you were not expecting his next words as they fell from his lips a bit too seriously.
“Promise me something if I do get murdered? Don’t find the culprit.”
You struggled to wrap your head around his words before a bubbly laugh escaped you, trying to lighten the situation. You moved to straddle his hips, trying to desperately shut up the plan that was herding in his mind. You looked down at him as he looked back up, his hands resting against the small of your back and you saw it– the spiraling, the mess of his unwanted trauma, a plot that he conjured up within the walk back towards the cottage. 
The killing game was a bonus. 
“What if the culprit’s me?” You asked, pushing him back onto the pillows and Nagito let out a quiet noise. “Surely, you wouldn’t want me to die?”
“I would gladly die by my lover’s hands.” 
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The pitch black clouded your eyes and you let out a quiet yelp. You didn’t know what was going on, why did the lights go out during the party? A few loud shouts surrounded the room and you closed your eyes, listening to the sounds of everyone panicking. You huddled yourself against the wall, practically tripping over the cord connected against the wall and you felt it lift up slightly as you sat there on the ground.
Where was Nagito? A minute ago he had been next to you and Hajime but when you had fumbled for his hand when the lights went out, it wasn’t there in reach.
The lights came on with a blinding shine to them and you immediately scanned the area for Nagito. He had fallen near the back table and he glanced towards you with a panicked expression. His name fell from your lips quietly as everyone else gasped at Mikan, but you didn’t care to react to whatever had happened in the middle of the room. You rushed over to where Nagito sat, clearly in a daze and you helped him up quickly. “Are you okay? Did you trip?” 
“I did, yeah.” You dusted off the backs of his thighs for him, checking for any scraps and bruises. He hugged his jacket over himself and bit, his cheeks blushing red as you finished up and you planted a small kiss on his face. “T-Thank you, Y/N.”
You had to make sure he was alright, there was no telling what had happened during that blackout. Someone could’ve brought in poison and tainted a weapon with it, though you weren’t quite sure how it would’ve made the pat down as Byakuya had checked everyone thoroughly. But still if there was so much as a scratch on Nagito, the entire world was going to burn with you.
A stench of blood had perforated your sense of smell and you were just about to double check your partner’s clothing again before Hajime flipped up the tablecloth that had laid stagnant against the back table, revealing the first kill of the game that taunted your demise.
The investigation began not long after the screams died down, the remnants of sniffles and sobs overtaking the hallway. You walked around aimlessly with Nagito, trying to get information out of your classmates but there was no luck for the both of you. Ironic huh.
“Hey, Hajime. Can Y/N and I join you for the investigation?” Nagito asked as he spotted Hajime opening the door to the crime scene again, having just finished speaking with Sonia. “I think it would be easier for us to talk in groups rather than one on one.” 
“So smart, my love.” You murmured out loud, which made Nagito immediately take your hand as Hajime muttered out a ‘sure, just don’t get in the way.’ You squeezed his hand as you felt the sweat on his palm, trying to reassure him internally that everything is okay. He was probably just spooked that he had predicted the killing, how could he have known? 
And how could you have known Nagito’s motive? 
As everyone stood around the poisoned circle, you folded your arms across your chest. Stationed next to Mahiru and Hajime, you peered in front of you. Nagito was a ways away from the cursed podiums that had you cornered in truths and interjections, standing in between Ibuki and Mikan with dignified silence.
As the trial went on, he didn’t speak much and he certainly didn’t pass up the chance to eye you up from the distance as you stated your case when you were suspected because of your outburst. As you scrambled for an opening, something to show for accountability, Nagito spoke for you. 
“We’re all friends, aren't we?” He laughed it off, the tone switching and you almost applauded his efforts to help you. “We don’t even have any clues to go off of, not a single one. Let’s just give up, we wouldn’t want to waste Monokuma’s time.”
So you want us to die? You couldn’t exactly argue with him now, his plan revealing itself to you. A thick band of trust snapped against you, he had broken it. But you saw the hope rushing through his veins, the pure bliss you had managed to capture from the corner of your eye, the despair that battled his hope swirling in them– and you made your decision right then and there. If you insist. If it means we die together, Nagito Komaeda.
“No, he’s right! Listen to Nagito here, let’s just give up.” You advocated, the reasonings blurting from your mouth faster than you could speak. As you looked around the room with confidence practically pouring out of you, you caught everyone hurriedly agreeing with Nagito. You shouldn’t be so presumptuous but it was the truth, after all. There wasn’t a fucking thing anyone could say or do, the clues had been wrapped up by the killer, swept underneath the rug that had been laid out in its foyer.
That’s wrong, I think.” Chiaki piped up, downcasted but a willingness snagged in her voice. “There are clues.”
Nagito’s eyebrows furrowed and you shot a look at Chiaki, glaring at her with suspicion. What did she mean by that, huh? “There aren’t any clues. We investigated the entire building, searched every crevice, every single piece of evidence–” You started, nearly spiraling yourself. There was no way there was a clue, because if there was…
“The desk lamp.” 
“Desk lamp? That’s impossible, Hajime. How would that be a clue?” You argued, but he had already proved you wrong. 
“Nagito… It was you, wasn’t it?” 
“M-Me?” Nagito almost stepped off the podium, just barely catching himself as he lunged for the center. It was surely just a coincidence you found him next to the blood splattered table, the lamp cord tangled up against his ankle. A coincidence? No, he didn’t kill anyone. He simply meddled with the killer, sparking interest–perhaps fear into them. You looked over at Nagito, noticing the way his hand trembled against his chest.
Then your boy burst into a fit of laughter. It was going to take a lot to protect him now.
Whatever it takes, my love.
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a/n: wanna get tagged in future writing posts? join my taglist!
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primonizuto · 2 years ago
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i get where you're coming from and this is 100% just a difference in our interpretations of the finale/show which is absolutely fine because it was left ambiguously so nobody is "wrong" here, but for me, i truly don't think "he could become a supervillain" is an effective counterargument to the fact that he demonstrated that he is fundamentally a weak person, which is why i think as i said in my original post that kendall sealed his own fate as much as shiv was responsible for voting against him and ousting him in that moment.
business in succession is all about showing strength and not revealing your weaknesses, and kendall showed his weaknesses right there in front of everyone. like, for me, it's not just that he had a tantrum, it's that he dropped every shred of professionalism to fight with his siblings because they wouldn't give him what he wanted, which he believes he deserves because he is the eldest, not because he'd be good at it. yes, he says he'd be good at it, and maybe that's true, but his business acumen and experience are symptoms of being molded for it since he was a child; they are not innate traits of his. he can have all the expertise in the world and try to emulate logan's "killer" moves (like when he calmly and confidently blackmailed hugo, which is an example of the kind of supervillain behaviour i think you're suggesting) all he wants, but none of that matters because he showed his weakness. and blackmailing hugo got him nowhere in the end, because we even see hugo congratulating tom after the vote. he intimidated hugo into silence just like logan might have done, even had hugo literally barking like a dog for him, but at the end of the day, hugo watched him melt down just like everyone else. like, for me, those few cutbacks to the board room during the fight, where it's demonstrated clearly that the people in there can hear him yelling, kind of say it all here. (also interesting that it kind of parallels the earlier scene in the ep where roman and kendall hear shiv screaming down the phone from offscreen, and they agree that it's confirmation she's lost the power she thought she had.)
obviously if shiv had voted for him in the first place, without the argument happening at all, things would have been different, because nobody would have seen him melt down, and then i think he could well have cemented his position with manipulation and aggression and power play tactics just like logan did, and i think he might have done it successfully. but for me, i don't think that any attempt at manipulation or intimidation of board members coming from kendall would have held much weight at all after the argument with shiv and roman. i definitely agree that in the real world people like musk get away with acting cringe on main and other equally unprofessional things that nobody else would ever be able to get away with, but i'm not saying that kendall wouldn't be able to get away with being unprofessional (he has a history of addiction and he's done extremely public Cringe things like kenfest, L to the OG and flipflopping on trying to kill his dad like 3 times), i'm saying that everyone on the board saw him acting like a child and now they have unassailable proof that he is weak, and in my interpretation, 'weak' is the worst thing you can be in succession.
a thing that i havent seen people really talking about is that even if kendall had somehow managed to persuade shiv to vote in his favour and thus won the vote overall, he had a very public tantrum that was audible to everyone in that meeting, never mind that entire floor of the building. shiv voting against him fundamentally would not have altered the fact that kendall ruined his own credibility by screaming "i'm the eldest boy," physically assaulting his brother, and attempting to physically assault his sister. shiv did what she did and she had her reasons for it, but also there is absolutely no fucking way that kendall could have walked out of that room after that argument and into a permanent job as CEO. he would've been counting down the days to a vote of no confidence. it's like, gerri decided to back ken's initial vote of no confidence against logan when she saw logan smack iverson – she even says outright to him that she saw all she needed to see after that. it was shiv's vote that made sure kendall lost the vote over the sale and sealed ken's fate in that moment, but kendall also irrevocably ruined his own reputation in front of the board.
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blurbfics · 3 months ago
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There'd Better Be a Mirrorball | Azriel x OFC [part eight]
Summary: A normal morning in Azriel's life.
Word Count: 2k
Warnings: fluff, slight sexual insinuations (when are Nesta and Cassian not banging tho), anxious mannerisms, beginning of emotional turmoil (not yet angst)
Minors, do not interact.
a/n: yeah yeah its another short one but i guess i can only write 2k words at a time unless its cassian's pov? anyway, hope yall are riding with me still! i just finished an outline im feeling more satisfied with so fear not my friends! there will be more plot coming soon. besides we gotta let them fall in love, right? here's some luna lovegood-esque content. also if you haven't seen dinner in america, you should give it a try. it's so cute i havent had a crush in so long
part seven
Masterlist
"Creature of my desire, takes us higher
To not hold your face or feel your embrace, is why I waste
But she's just a phase, just a phase
Boy yeah, she's easy to replace"
Puma Blue, (She's) Just a Phase
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It was yet another day of training with the priestesses and nothing was truly different than any other day. 
Every morning he would wake up alone at his townhouse in the city and quickly down his plain but nutritious breakfast before winnowing directly to the House of Wind, and if he heard disconcerting sounds coming from inside the house, he pretended he didn’t and that he didn’t notice the bright red bite marks on his brother’s neck when he appeared a few minutes later, eyes hazed and a smug satisfied smile in place.
Except that when he winnowed to the training ring that morning he found he wasn’t alone. 
The sun was only barely waking up and yet she had already made the day her own.
Eowyn panted from her spot on the floor (at a reasonable distance from the now faint creaking sound coming from the house), the only visible skin around her eyes bright with perspiration yet she didn’t seem to be doing anything to explain her clearly strained behavior.
Clearly sensing his approach, the young priestess snapped her eyes open and evened out her breaths. “Oh, hey Master of the Shadows” she breathed casually, using one of her usual obnoxious titles she thought were hilarious, having heard them spoken earnestly from a brown nosing vendor in Velaris. The first time she’d called him ‘lord of shadows,’ he’d been so gobsmacked by the ridiculousness of the title and had let the surprise slip on his face, which had caused her to latch on to the titles. Since then, he refused to correct her, knowing that doing so would only be fuel for her to do it more. 
He frowned at her, “what are you doing here?”
“Can’t a priestess admire a sunrise around here?”
His frown smoothed into something more neutral. While not letting it show, he found himself curiously amused, but mostly profoundly intrigued. As if she was a puzzle he couldn’t help but try to solve. “You looked like you were convulsing.”
Her dark eyes narrowed at him and despite the thrill he felt shooting down his spine and the smile he felt threatening to rise on his lips, he quickly composed himself, masking any rising emotion with a stoic look on his face. His clear dismissive disinterest seemed to irritate her further. “I was warming up,” she shrugged, looking away and he needn’t see her eyes to know it was a lie, despite how casually she tried to make it sound, “thought I’d take a moment to rest.”
He couldn’t help himself, “right…unless you’re here to listen to Cassian and Nesta…?”
She tilted head slightly to the side in confusion, her dark eyes seeking and he watched in amusement the second it clicked, the top bridge of her nose, barely covered by her veil, scrunching cutely as she grimaced at him. He half-mindedly wondered if part of her clear aversion to the sun was due to the possibility of freckles on such lovely skin but quickly rid the notion, knowing somehow intrinsically that her aversion to the sun ran deeper than vanity. A shame she didn’t spend more time in it, he considered. She’d look lovely with freckles.
“Please,” she snorted, “I’ve enough with Nesta’s detailed descriptions to last a lifetime, I don’t need to hear her make Cassian cry out her name and beg her to ‘let him cum’ right now, I’m getting the full story later.” And while the casual talk of sex surprised him, somehow foolishly expecting pious shyness from her, it was the next sentence that intrigued him. “I’ve been hearing too many things in the wind all morning to focus on something so banal.”
Perhaps there was yet another exception to his otherwise normal and routine morning— his immediate and decided rejection of Rhysand’s attempt at a mental connection, his rhetorical daily debriefing where his boss presented him with his case file and mission for the day, except Azriel had no intention to go on any missions today. He’d told Rhys he’d be busy three days of the week every week, and any missions he assigned would either have to wait a day or he could deal with the problem himself. Today, as he knew very well, was a Juneday and today he trained with Eowyn after their daily group training, and he had no intention of canceling his meeting with her.
“Are you okay?” She asked him, and when his eyes came back to focus he saw that she was now back to her feet, no longer looking as out of place as she inspected him with a hint of concern in her eye. “You just…left.”
“I was talking to Rhys,” he explained, a half lie. He figured that Rhysand’s lack of insistence meant the conversation could likely wait.
She only hummed in response, nodding understandingly and asked nothing further. 
“You didn’t answer my question,” he reminded her.
“What was your question?”
Irked, his eyebrows narrowed at her, “what were you doing?”
“You don’t let anything go, do you?” She rolled her eyes, exasperated, but he saw a glint of absolute glee light her eyes. “My Venus dionaea has officially held onto the will to live for a month and even sprouted a companion, so of course I had to stay and offer moral support to a postpartum mother.”
He stared at her, “this is…a cannibalistic plant?”
“Close, it’s carnivorous, but I’m glad to know you’ve been paying attention to my ramblings the past couple days. Do you want to see it?”
And he did. Pay attention to her, that is. Eowyn was an enigma to him. He couldn’t say he’d ever met any fae, male or female for that matter, that intrigued him as much as she did, for the interest he had in her was not the allconsuming yearning for belonging he’d wanted from Mor nor the passionate protective desire he felt for Elain. What started with simple curiosity and intrigue in the young priestess turned into a challenge for him, to uncover layer after layer to her person and know— he just wanted to know her secrets, had no intention of using them against her or doing anything with them, really— he just had to understand her.
And every day, Eowyn revealed only enough for him to obsess over all over again. She barely opened the curtains to the window of a locked chamber, allowing him just enough to know there was something there but never know what it was. Not all of her revelations were shown through conversations– in fact, the majority was based on her altering moods, as indetectable as they were to others.
He continued to stare, mind truly blank for something more to say. “Sure.”
He couldn’t help the deep breath he inhaled inside the warm greenhouse, that smelled mostly of varied flora but contained something else, her own scent somehow intertwined in the greenhouse from all the time she spent in there. His eyes almost rolled to the back of his head at the thought of what her office in the library must smell like, of what her bedroom smelled like.
“Now before we approach her, there are some rules,” she spoke so quickly and lowly, he had to strain his neck down to catch everything. Surprisingly, he found that he didn’t need to pull his wings tighter into himself to fit, the small space somehow big enough to fit both of them comfortably through the rows of plants. “You do not, under any circumstances, point at her,” she instructed, “it makes her feel insecure and anxious and it will kill her. You’re not allowed to speak to her unless you’re praising her in some way, and please, for the love of the Mother, do not approach her if you’re in a sour mood. She can detect that and it makes her so upset, she’ll refuse to eat for days”
“And why am I speaking to a plant?”
“Because here, life is precious,” she said grandly yet the way her gaze held his told him she did not speak lightly. As boisterous, even performative, as Eowyn was when she was feeling particularly tired— a rather common occurrence he’d noticed in the few months they’d trained together— there was an edge to her voice, only barely noticeable enough for him to know that she truly meant her words, believed in them. “A greenhouse oversees the line between mortality and immortality. Here, plants may sometimes die, but I’m here to make sure that their kind doesn’t die with them— thus they will live on, as long as the earth, its nutrients, and the sun allow it to. I quite enjoy the perspective it offers.”
He’d noticed this of Eowyn, as well. As sharp and cunning, if perhaps somewhat timid and shy at first glance, as she was, there was something peculiar about her that one could never pinpoint. It was no secret that she was bright, that she held an infinite wisdom in her sharp dark eyes, but they also held something some may find… jarring. An almost imperceptible but always present sort of manic way about her. 
Her eyes, the only indicator he had to perceive any type of true emotion, were always flittering around, always inspecting her surroundings, as if looking or expecting something to occur at any moment. He noticed, sometimes, how she seemed to tremble in place in a way that went beyond exertion or even cold from the brisk mornings, like there was something rattling inside her that needed to get out.
It was particularly present now. He inspected her and noticed the dark circles under her already dark eyes framed by long soft lashes. He’d known for a while that Eowyn often had trouble sleeping, and he was beginning to recognize the signs when she was going through a particularly tough episode. 
She had told him that since their training had begun and she became more exposed to the outside world, she’d found solace in nature beyond what was contained within a mountain. This helped, she told him, but it clearly wasn’t enough.
Despite her clear sleepless frenzy and anxious energy, Azriel thought, objectively, of course, that she looked rather beautiful. 
He immediately chastened himself at the thought.
He’d made a vow, if only to himself, to focus on himself for once rather than to yearn for or ‘pant’ after females, as Rhys had so gently put it. Had decided that unrequited affections only brought hurt and pain, and going after a priestess that sought haven in a library precisely because she’d been so hurt by a male that she would want to live in a micro-society where they couldn’t invade, was like a slap in the face. As if he only went after unavailable females and what did that say about him as a male?
As always, he stopped the thought and filed it away for later.
Instead, he spent the rest of the morning listening to Eowyn coo and awe and the truly puny and ugly plant barely sprouting two leafs that looked like flat lips, but he kept the comment to himself, promising not to look at the plant that she’d ever-so-lovingly called Thelxi, in tribute to the Siren Thelxiepeia from the human tales that cunningly seduced her prey before consuming them like a true predator. She cooed at the plant, telling it how smart and cunning it was in between her truly fascinating bits of information that she often shared with him. Information he cherished, despite its lack of practical use.
It wasn’t until his shadows pulled him away from the bubble he hadn’t realized he was in, whispering of his brother’s annoyance mixed with concern about his lack of appearance in the sparring ring.
Even as he rushed Eowyn out of the greenhouse and into their group session, feeling Cassian’s red hot glare upon him when he showed his face, he couldn’t bring himself to regret the slight alterations to what was otherwise a perfectly normal day.
part nine
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