#being always alone is not that nice and freeing like most coupled people think
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#I don't wanna exist in this world anymore#i need the world to get better#and slow down#I'm so exhausted#the dread can't get out of my head#I can't function like this#it's funny that I know I won't feel like this forever and I know I can handle a lot of shit#I'm still here#yeah?#the weight is getting heavier and I'm getting older and I wish I had someone to share it with#being always alone is not that nice and freeing like most coupled people think#sure it's easier in some aspects but having someone that cares about you????? you're the lucky one#especially in this fucked up expensive and heartless world#it's not a good mental day for me to be at work (or anywhere else) but hey I don't wanna be unemployed on top of everything#hope you all have a better day#🖤
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It's my first time requesting something on here, I am CRAVING for any Tokio Hotel member with a kind/sweet/obedient reader, I usually can't find stories/headcanons with them where the reader is a sweet and obedient girl, feel free to ignore this request if you want to.
Bae this is so me fr (for the most part😇)
Tokio Hotel with a sweet and obedient gf (slightly NSFW)
Bill Kaulitz
•hes completely infatuated with you. you could do anything you wanted to him and he would let you.
•he thinks that you are an absolute angel. He loves how sweet you are, it makes him so proud to be your bf
•would NEVER let people take advantage of you or your kindness. You don’t like disappointing people by saying ‘no’ but he has absolutely no problem doing it for you
• “sweetheart, you can’t do everything people ask you to. You are too sweet for your own good sometimes I swear.”
•he means that in a endearing way dw! He wouldn’t change a single thing about you
•he tries to test your obedience tbh. He’ll tell you to do something small then slowly start telling you to do more, but you never disobey him. And he makes sure to praise you very well for it
• “oh my, what a good girl. You listen so well, angel. Im so proud of you.”
•definitely is more of a soft dom with you, he can’t imagine being mean to his sweet girl🤭
Tom Kaulitz
•oh boy…
•you two are opposites. He’ll try to get you to do and say bad/mean things just to see if youll actually do it
•your hesitant because you dont wanna be mean, but you obey him and he immediately cant help but smirk to himself
•Bill always scolds him for it tho, you can’t escape mama Bill.
“Tom, Leave her alone! Y/n don’t listen to him, hes an idiot.” 😭
•he thinks its so cute watching you interact with his family. You’re just so sweet and they all love you so much. Hes so happy that they love you just as much as he does
•HIS MOM LOVES YOU. SHE TAKES SO MANY PICTURES OF YOU AND TOM AND SHOWS THEM TO EVERYONE. SHE CALLS YOU HER DAUGHTER TOO😭💗
•not to be a whore….but CORRUPTION KINK?? HELLO???
•LOVES pet names. He calls you princess, sweetheart, my love🤭🤭
Georg Listing
•LORD he is obsessed with you omfg
•you are absolutely everything to him. You’re his precious girl who could never EVER do anything wrong in his eyes
•literally refers to you as his ‘lovely girlfriend’ to people 😭
•his heart almost explodes whenever you do anything for him. Whether that be cooking him food, drawing/coloring a picture for him, or just giving him a small compliment, he’ll always be so so appreciative of it
•HES SO SOFT WITH YOU. He kisses youholds your face so gently while stroking your cheeks with his thumbs:(((
• “You’re such a sweetheart, you know that? I love you so much, my sweet girl.”
Gustav Schäfer
•hes also such a sweetheart, but he likes to pretend like hes all mean and unapproachable😭
•like babe, you are probably the cutest person here you’re not fooling anyone.
•you two are known for being the super lovey couple. He loves to show you off and you’re just happy to be there😇
•although you’re both sweet, you’re the only obedient one in the relationship. He such a brat and LOVES to push peoples buttons just to see how far he can go before someone actually gets mad😭
•BLUSHES SO SO HARD WHEN YOU COMPLIMENT HIM
•you guys are the embodiment of a praise kink. Neither of you can go 5 minutes without being and all nice and lovey dovey to each other
•dare i say….pleasure Dom Gustav…. GUYS IK I SAY IT ALL THE TIME BUT PLS YOU KNOW ITS TRUE
• “such a good girl for me, arent you?”
“Aww, you’re so cute, my baby.” Yes. HIS baby.😇
#tokio hotel#tokio hotel x reader#tokio hotel fanfic#tokio hotel smut#bill kaulitz#bill kaulitz x reader#bill kaulitz smut#gustav schafer x reader#georg listing x reader#tom kaulitz x reader#bill kaulitz edit#bill kaulitz fanfic#tom kaulitz smut#tom kaulitz#tom kaulitz fanfic#georg listing fanfic#georg listing smut#georg listing#gustav schäfer smut#gustav schafer#gustav schafer fanfic#gustav schäfer
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Ateez in Different NSFW Careers
Pairing: ot8
Genre: smut, 21+
Warnings: lots of sex, masturbating, porn, domination/submission, fetishes, lmk if i missed anything egregious
Note: this is an idea for a miniseries but idk and thought id put it out there to see if people are interested (dont bring up the ateez mixtape series, im working on it!) thank you @wingsofimagery @yessa-vie for listening to this brain rot
read more here
Hongjoong:
onlyfans creator, solos of him masturbating or nudes. weirdly artistic? like camera angles on point, edited to perfection, color graded. rarely, if ever, collabs with others. occasionally posts erotic photography of one unidentifiable woman. his subscribers aren't sure what to make of it but pictures of them together are some of his best work. daylights as a photographer and has some of his work in small galleries across the city.
Seunghwa:
amatuer porn star, makes homemade couple porn or something with a close female friend. domestic/bf vibes in every video. v soft with each other even when they're having rough sex. people assume they're actually dating bc of the insane chemistry even though they never show their faces. its his fun dirty little secret no one in the office knows.
Yunho:
boyfriend for hire. specializes in "turn your brain off for the night, i'll handle it." rent him to be your date to an event or just for a night on the town. doesn't always sleep with his client (his discretion) but usually cuddles and will spend the night. just trying to pay off his student loans since being an analyst pays shit. big yunho bc he has a big... u kno? and loves hearing the women he sleeps with rave about it. has had several repeat customers and older women that recommend him to their friends.
Yeosang:
audio erotica. just aside hobby for him. tbh 9/10 times forgets to record or that he even has the account. started bc a girl he was seeing freshman year of college told him she wanted a video with the sound on and he didn't know what that meant but she liked his voice enough to let the completely black screen slide. posts sporadically but always makes waves when he does. people have offered him money for custom audios and he always turns them down.
San:
fetish model. shibari, leather, latex. you name it, he's most likely modeled it. has portrait of himself (unrecongnizable, facing away just his back criss crossed with ropes, hands bound at the base of his spine) hanging in his apartment. his friends think its weird since they know he's the one in the picture but most of the girls he brings home just think he's into some freaky stuff. started bc he would nude model for the art classes at his college when he needed fast money for weed. people assume he likes really kinky sex bc of his job but he prefers vanilla sex most of the time bc his job is so kink heavy. works as a fitness instructor as his 9-5, and had a few people recognize him but most are cool and leave him alone
Mingi:
nsfw twitter creator. videos, pictures, sliding into dms. mingi does it all and enjoys the comments of people thirsting over him even if he's one dick among thousands. for his day job he works in a sex store and flirts with the exotic dancers who come in to buy their costumes (turned down every single time, there's even a pool for how quickly he'll strike out). the one girl that flirted back still lives in his brain rent free bc all she did was smile and he folded like origami. now when she comes in mingi has to remind himself not to drool.
Wooyoung:
cam boy brat, sugars on the side. likes being degraded by his audience when he's bad. lover of milfs, and has a sugar mommy he sees once a month. loves being wined and dined by her and then loved on at her fancy apartment uptown. started doing both in college to pay rent, now works at a dance studio and keeps it up bc the extra cash is nice. enamored with taking pictures during sex. has a collection of polaroids with his current FWB that he cherishes more than anything (always carries one in his phone case). toyed with the idea of having her come on his streams but he doesn't want to share. he should probably look into that more.
Jongho:
dungeon dom (IDK), the kind thats a look don't touch dom. if you need a session to work through your stress, go to him. sexy spanking, punishment spanking, therapy spanking. he's got the knowledge and know how. has a strange collection of vintage dvds and magazines. rare stuff that he treats like art rather than smut. jongho i never want to speak on your name im sorry
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Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie @gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire @missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu
© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.
#ksmutsociety#kvanity#cromernet#ateez smut#ateez fanfic#atz fanfic#ateez fluff#ateez angst#kim hongjoong#park seonghwa#jeong yunho#kang yeosang#choi san#song mingi#jung wooyoung#choi jongho#🫡 highvern
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hey lonely stranger (won't you meet my eye?) — reader x satoru gojo
notes: yes, hello, here it is, the infamous lonely stranger fic. i mentioned the idea a couple months back to @willowser i thought i'd write it after finishing shine on the sea, but as usual, where gojo is concerned i'm eating my words. title comes from this song. i apologize for me love of weeb music. anyway. i hope you enjoy.
contains: fem!reader (no pronouns, no physical description), typical annoying satoru gojo antics, the faintest hint of possessive/jealous gojo, unresolved romantic tension, allusions to canon typical violence
wc: 6.4k [ao3 link; account required]
There are a lot of places where you’d expect to run into Satoru Gojo.
A match-making party is most definitely not one of them.
First of all, why is he even here? You have no doubt that the world’s strongest sorcerer has much more important things to do than attend a match-making party. Not that he even needs to in the first place. Even without the status and the prestige that his family name brings, his looks alone are more than enough to get people to throw themselves at his feet. That being said, his personality is definitely off-putting enough to make some marriage candidates run the other way. So, who knows, maybe he does need help finding a spouse after all.
You grimace, watching in real time as some of the bolder participants make a beeline toward him, eager to mingle with objectively the most attractive man in the room before the event officially begins. Even from your spot across the hotel ballroom you can see him basking in all the attention. Maybe that’s the real reason why he’s here.
After all, there’s no one who owns the limelight like Satoru Gojo.
Even though it is nothing new to you, there’s something about watching all these people fawn over him that makes you sick to your stomach. You tell yourself it’s because they’re being fooled by him and his offensively handsome face and not because you’re upset that he’s here.
You were actually kind of looking forward to this match-making party, but now you’re annoyed and it's all Gojo’s fault. You’ll have to avoid him as much as you can. It shouldn’t be too hard later on when everyone is free to converse with whoever they want, but before that is the speed dating portion. It’s an unfortunate inevitability that you will have to sit across from Satoru Gojo for two minutes of the hour-long speed-dating session, but maybe you’ll be lucky and maybe he’ll be one of the last, if not the last person for you.
In hindsight, you feel like you should have known better than to hope that luck would have your back when it’s always, always favored Satoru Gojo.
At first, you think it's merciful, sparing you from having to deal with him first. It would have really sucked for you to go through all your speed-dates in a Gojo-induced bad mood. But as he comes closer and closer one two minute interval at a time, you start to wish that you'd started with him first, and just gotten it out of the way.
Despite the threat of Satoru Gojo looming over your head, you do your best to focus on the people who come to your table. Two minutes is not a lot of time at all. Some seem to realize that and try to squeeze as much talking as they can in that amount of time. Some are paralyzed by it; awkwardly floundering for the hundred twenty seconds given to them. There are a couple people that you manage to enjoy a nice, albeit short, conversation with. Despite that, you still find yourself sneaking glances in Gojo's direction, hyper aware of the dwindling number of people sitting between you.
The man sitting before you now, Tasuke Tomoda, you think his name is, leans in toward you and gestures for you to do the same. He's the last person separating you from Gojo and he's been pretty pleasant so far, so you do as he asks and move a little bit closer to him.
"So, uh, I've noticed that you keep looking over there." His voice is barely audible as he inclines his head just slightly in Gojo's direction. “At him.”
You inhale sharply. This guy is the first one who’s noticed, or, at least, the first who's decided to say anything about it. You feel a bit ashamed to have been caught, especially when you thought you’d been discreet.
Just as you’re about to offer an apology, Tomoda adds, “I’m not mad or anything. I mean… he’s quite the looker, isn’t he?”
Before you can stop it, you grimace and Tomoda catches it, his eyes widening in obvious surprise. “You don’t think so?”
You don’t need to think so; you know so— for as long as you have been unfortunate to know him, Satoru Gojo has taken great pleasure in flaunting his good looks whenever possible. You scowl and admit, your voice an annoyed sort of murmur, “His looks are fine, I guess, but his personality…”
You don't know where to begin and you don't know if you should.
Tomoda’s gaze flits toward Gojo and he moves even closer, whispering so quiet that nobody else can hear. “...yeah, he does kinda look like an asshole, doesn’t he?”
You reel backwards, laughing so loud that everyone else can hear. Embarrassment flashes throughout your entire body when you realize that both couples on either side of you have gone completely silent and four pairs of eyes are now on you and Tomoda. Oops. Immediately, the both of you bow your heads in unison to one couple, then the next (with you taking great care to not look at Gojo).
Once their conversations resume, you give Tomoda an apologetic smile. “Sorry ‘bout that."
"It's fine!" Tomoda gives you a good natured sort of chuckle. "I'm just glad to have gotten a laugh out of you."
You blink, confused. "Why?"
His cheeks turn a light shade of pink and you think it’s kind of cute. “Well, it’s just that I think—"
You lean in.
"—that you're really—"
The bell signifying to change partners echoes throughout the event hall, startling Tomoda out of whatever he was going to say.
Has it really been two minutes already?
Tomoda starts to rise to switch seats, but he looks conflicted, like he still wants to say his piece.
"Wait," you tell him and you're not sure if it's because you want to delay Gojo's inevitable arrival or because you actually want to know what Tomoda was going to say.
He stops, his mouth half open. Tomoda stares and you see the hesitation swimming in his eyes. It only lasts a second though and his mouth shuts as he makes his decision. He takes a deep breath and—
"Excuse me!"
Your stomach lurches at the sound of the playful voice you know far, far too well. Tomoda looks like his soul is about to leave his body rather than his words. Slowly, reluctantly, you both turn your heads to look at the interloper.
You’d tried not to pay too close attention to Gojo when he’d walked in, but with him practically in your face right now, your eyes can’t seem to help but be drawn in. It feels like he really went all out tonight. His suit fits him perfectly, accentuating his long legs and slender yet built figure. The colors compliment his pale, flawless skin, his snow white hair and his infamous sky blue eyes. Gojo’s entire look is completed with a pair of sunglasses, over which he’s peering down at you and Tomoda.
There’s something about the amused glow in those dumb eyes of his that manages to royally pisses you off. You scowl at him, but he ignores you, his expression unchanging as he directs his attention to Tomoda.
"It's my turn now, you know," Gojo points out and while his tone is friendly enough, both you and Tomoda can clearly hear what Gojo is actually saying.
Leave.
"Right! I'm really sorry about that!" Tomoda exclaims as he basically leaps out of his seat and scrambles over to the next table. His table mate stares— not just at Tomoda, but at you and Gojo as well. You can feel the pair on the other side staring too.
Fucking Gojo.
He is completely and unwholly unbothered as he plops down in the seat opposite you, a self-satisfying smile plastered to his face. Annoyed, you cross your arms over your chest and huff, “Did you really need to cause a scene?”
“Hey, you started it,” Gojo says with a chuckle. “Actually, I think you were so loud that everyone heard.”
“Shut up,” you hiss, throwing your most venomous glare in Gojo’s direction, hoping that, for once in his damn life he listens.
Naturally, he doesn’t.
“So, what’d that guy say that was so funny?” Gojo’s tone is casual, almost nonchalant as he leans in your direction. He reaches up with one hand to adjust his glasses, pulling them down just enough to reveal the shocking blue of his eyes staring you down.
You know he means to disarm you this way, to make you spill, but you manage to hold your ground. “Who knows? That’s between me and him.”
Gojo tilts his head to the side, still smiling as he responds. “Oh? You into that guy?”
“And if I was?” you ask, your words nearly a challenge. In all honesty, you don’t know if you can say if you’re into Tomoda or not. He’s certainly made the biggest impression out of everyone you’ve talked to so far and you wouldn’t be against hitting him up during the free talk section of the event. Who knows? Maybe you just need to talk to him a little more to find out.
“Hate to break it to you, but it’s not going to work out.”
“You don’t know that,” you shoot back, feeling defensive because Gojo doesn’t know. There’s no way he could. His stupid Six Eyes can see a lot of things, but the future is not one of them.
“I do actually,” Gojo responds simply. His voice is even, with none of his characteristic smugness woven in. That being said, you think you catch the meaning in his words and it angers you even more. Just because you’re a sorcerer that doesn’t mean your dating pool needs to be confined to the members of jujutsu society. You know a few sorcerers who have dated, and even married non-sorcerers.
“Wrong! You don’t know anything,” you insist viciously and if you were anywhere else you’d be just about ready to start throwing punches. You’ve never beaten Gojo in a fight (except maybe once, but you don’t count that because you know he threw that fight), but he’s always down to brawl with you.
“I happen to know plenty of things,” Gojo grins at you, pleased and you watch, in real time, as his delight turns devious. “Like I know that you were checkin’ me out earlier.”
Your entire body heats up and you’re not quite sure if it’s from rage or embarrassment. Another eyeful of the smirk on Gojo’s face is enough for you to decide that it must be rage. “I was not.”
“You so were,” Gojo teases, infuriatingly gleeful in his retort. “I totally get it, and it’s completely okay if you want to tell me how sexy I look tonight.”
“Hell no!” you almost yell, ignoring the growing heat in your stomach. Has it been two minutes yet? There’s no way that this clown’s time isn’t up yet. You glance at the big timer the event’s organizers have set up and… you still have half a minute with this fool.
It’s going to be the longest thirty seconds of your goddamn life.
“Come on,” Gojo nudges at you in that playful tone of his, seemingly determined to use every second he has to annoy you. “Don’t you want to tell me?”
“For someone as confident as you claim to be, you sure are desperate for validation,” you dead pan.
He ignores you. “Okay, okay, since you're feeling shy, I'll go ahead and say it: Satoru Gojo is the hottest guy here!"
You think you're going to hurl from all the second hand embarrassment. It's not like it's unnatural for Gojo to be so unashamedly confident but at an event like this you think it's probably a big no-no. "Gojo?"
“Yes?” He sounds chipper, like he thinks you’re going to compliment him after all, but when it comes to Gojo, you live to disappoint.
“Why the hell are you even here?” you ask in exasperation. Gojo has fifteen or so seconds left but you figure you might as well get something out of this exchange with him, “I doubt someone like you has a need to come to things like this, so why?”
A surprised look flashes across Gojo’s features, but he quickly conceals it behind a mischievous smirk. "You jealous?"
He punctuates his question with a wink and you roll your eyes. "As if.”
“Uh huh.”
Five seconds left. “Maybe the jealous one here is actually you.”
You don’t entirely mean it when you say it; you really intend to make one last dig at Gojo before he moves on to the next person. Plus, you don’t even really think it’ll affect him all that much, things like that never really do. At least, you’ll get the last word here.
Or that’s what you think. You should have known better.
Gojo flashes a smile at you and for a few seconds you completely forget what breathing is. You’re used to playful smiles and teasing smiles, but the look that he’s giving you right now is different somehow. There’s something about the curve of his lips, about the borderline gentle glimmer of his crystalline eyes that sets your heartbeat into a frenzy.
Just as you remember how to breathe, he speaks, stealing your breath away all over again, “Who knows. Maybe I am.”
The bell finally rings, telling you that your two minutes with Satoru Gojo are now over, but you barely even register it— your eyes fixed on the man before you.
Just like Tomoda, before him, Gojo lingers, and he looks almost a little pleased with himself. The familiar expression snaps you out of your stupor and you glower at him, shooing him away like he’s unwanted.
Like you don’t want him to stay.
Like you don’t want to ask him what in the world was all that about.
Because you don’t, you really don’t. There’s no need to, you tell yourself. It’s just another one of the whacky mind games Gojo likes to play with you.
But even as the next person sits down across from you, you can’t get the look on Gojo’s face out of your mind. Even as they introduce themselves, the only thing you hear are Gojo’s last words.
“Who knows. Maybe I am.”
That’s crazy talk. He had to be fucking with you because there’s no way. No way that Satoru Gojo, of all people, would feel jealous.
Even though you know that, you can’t get what he said out of your mind and before you know it, the speed dating section of the match-making event is over and you don’t remember a damn thing about anyone who came after Gojo.
You’re annoyed. You’re so fucking annoyed that you wasted so much damn time thinking about that stupid blue eyed bastard, but it’s fine. It’s completely and totally fine, because you still have the free talk session. If you’re lucky, one of the people who came to you after Gojo will be interested enough to come chat you up and give you the chance to make up for the fact you had temporarily lost your mind thanks to one Satoru Gojo.
And if you’re unlucky… Well, you’re confident in the thought that it should be fine to seek out Tomoda. In fact, you decide to do that first. Better to just go for it than wait around. You survey the ballroom that you’re all in and you catch sight of the man off to the side, looking around somewhat shyly.
Is he looking for you?
You don’t want to get ahead of yourself, but it’s a nice thought. Nice, but… You shake your head; you don’t want to think about him right now. Before the traitorous thoughts can sneak back into your mind, you march over to where Tomoda is standing, tightly gripping the cards in your hand. At the beginning of the event, the staff had handed these cards out, instructing everyone to fill them out so that you could easily exchange contact information with anyone who caught your interest. And since Tomoda’s the only one who qualifies, it’s only natural that you give him one.
A relieved smile spreads across his features when he notices you and it makes you think that he really was looking for you after all.
You offer him a small smile of your own. “Hey.”
“Hi!” he squeaks and his expression turns a little sheepish.
You tilt your head in confusion. "What's up?"
"Just… a little surprised that you came to find me.”
"Huh? Why?"
Tomoda frowns, looking conflicted and, finally, he answers in a slow voice. "Well, that really handsome looking asshole seemed like he was really into you."
You blink.
Huh.
Huh?
Huh!?
You nearly double over in laughter. No offense to Tomoda but the thought is just flat out ridiculous. Satoru Gojo is into you? No way. Absolutely no way in hell. Not in a thousand, no, a million years would Gojo seriously—
"Who knows. Maybe I am."
Suddenly, your mouth is dry, your laughter dying in your throat as Gojo's words echo in your head yet again. There's no way he was serious then, right? He only said that to mess with you, to get the last word in, because there's no way, definitely no way…
You take a deep breath to compose yourself. Tomoda is still there and you're grateful that he hasn’t walked away thinking that you’re completely out of your mind. You take another breath, just in case, before you attempt to say anything. "What makes you think that?"
"Other than the obvious?" Tomoda asks, his tone a touch dry, and you frown, remembering how Gojo had made a scene earlier.
"...yes," you finally grumble when you realize that Tomoda is actually looking for an answer. "Other than that."
For some unknown reason, he seems hesitant to say anything further, but you gesture at him, urging him to speak. "Well, he… I noticed that he kept looking over at you after his turn.”
"That's because—" you start but then stop short when you realize that you actually have no answer. Your brain goes into overdrive trying to think of some kind of explanation, some kind of reason as to why Gojo would possibly…
"Who knows. Maybe I am."
The words are louder now. Almost deafening.
Still, you try to block them out.
"That's because he said something before we switched," you say desperately, like you’re grasping at straws. "I think he was just trying to fuck with me for the hell of it and, I don't know, maybe he kept looking to see how good of a job he did?"
Your lame explanation doesn’t seem to convince Tomoda. It doesn’t really convince you either. You rifle through your thoughts, trying to find some other possible reason, but everything you find seems to support Tomoda’s claim that, somehow, some way, Satoru Gojo is into you.
Tomoda looks like he’s trying to figure it out too, his expression contemplative. "...do you mind if I ask you a question?”
"...go ahead, shoot."
"You two knew each other before this, right?”
"Unfortunately," you admit begrudgingly. "But I didn't know he'd be here tonight."
Tomoda hums and nods his head slowly as he takes your words into consideration. He pauses, and then starts nodding again, quicker this time and you wonder if he’s figured something out. His expression shifts and you recognize this look; it’s the same as earlier when he was leaving your table. There’s something he wants to say, but he’s not sure if he should.
You have the distinct feeling that you're not going to like whatever it is, but still you push him to say it all the same. "What is it?"
Tomoda stares at you. Given the fact that this is a match-making event, you would expect some level of agitation or annoyance on his part, but the only thing you see in his bright, kind eyes is a curious glint. "Are you into that guy?”
No.
That's what you expect to say because that’s what you always say, but when your lips part to answer Tomoda's seemingly innocuous question nothing comes out. Yet the word remains there, stuck to the tip of your tongue and you don't understand why.
Maybe it’s the earnest look in Tomoda’s eyes or the strange and irritating feeling that’s been lurking in your chest ever since Gojo spoke to you earlier, but something, something is holding your denial at bay. More than that, it’s bidding you to actually be honest with yourself.
Because deep down you know the answer, and, worse than that, you know it isn’t no.
The truth fills your mouth, the shape of it uncomfortable and heavy in your jaw. It’s almost too much to handle, to keep in; one slip of the tongue and you’ll end up spilling it everywhere. If that happens— when that happens, you won’t be able to take it back.
When that happens, you won’t be able to deny Satoru Gojo any more.
And truthfully, the thought of it frightens you. That’s why you’ve kept your feelings buried deep inside you. That’s why you’re here at this match-making event, seeking a love that doesn’t scare you shitless. That’s why you keep denying Satoru Gojo’s presence in your heart.
Are you into him? Do you have feelings for him? Do you love him? You think the more important question here is are you truly prepared to answer these questions? Are you honestly ready to confront the feelings you’ve kept deep in your heart and the reality that comes with that?
When it comes down to it… you’re not.
Not here and not now.
You clamp your jaw down and forcefully swallow your feelings, condemning them back to the confines of your heart. They settle there, still uncomfortable, still heavy, but you’ll deal with them later, when they are not threatening to free themselves from the cage of your mouth.
Decision made, you look Tomoda in the eye and declare, “No, I’m not.”
He stares back at you and you can tell that he doesn’t believe you. Not one bit. But if anything, you are stubborn, persistent even. You swing one arm toward him, thrusting one of your contact cards in his direction as an offering, a prayer that, even for just a little bit, he’ll indulge your delusions.
Tomoda looks conflicted, like he’s biting his tongue and his gaze flickers between the card and your face. Finally, it stops on your face. His eyebrows furrow together in what is clearly concern, “Listen, you don’t—”
He stops short when you throw up your other arm, presenting the rest of your contact cards to him. You mean to send a message in the gesture, though honestly, at this point it’s probably futile. Still, you have to try.
Tomoda’s eyes ease down to the three cards fanned out before him, but he makes no move to take any of them. Instead, he sighs, clearly sympathetic when he looks at you directly. You see yourself reflected in his eyes and you look more desperate than determined.
Once again, he opens his mouth to speak, but this time you beat him to the punch, and you plead, “Please.”
Tomoda doesn’t move.
“Please,” you insist.
He continues to hold your gaze before, eventually, his shoulders slump, a clear sign that he’s given into you. You smile wryly; this man is truly too kind for his own good. Hopefully, he lives a long, happy life, free from the curses that plague your day-to-day life.
“...it’s not going to work out.”
Gojo’s voice echoes in your head once more, almost mocking you, and your hands waver just a tiny bit. You didn’t need him to tell you because deep down you already knew. It’s still annoying, but you manage to keep the disdain off your face for Tomoda’s sake.
Besides, it doesn’t mean that you can’t be friends. You think that, at least, that much should be fine.
Having finally given into your demands, Tomoda starts to reach for your cards. Just as he’s about to grasp them, another hand, pale with long, slender fingers shoots out and swipes all three cards from your grasp. Your head whips up to look at the interloper and, of course, who else do you find but Satoru Gojo, his trademark grin plastered to his face.
“I’ll be taking these,” he announces casually, slipping your cards into his shirt pocket.
You gape wordlessly at him and he continues to smile at you like some sort of angelic devil. Then, as swiftly as he appeared, he turns on his heel and walks off into the crowd.
Slowly, you turn to look back at Tomoda, who turns to look at you. He seems as stunned as you feel, but you think he recovers first. The man gives you a gentle smile and you think that he truly deserves the world— a world you can’t and could never give him.
“You want to go after him, don’t you?” he asks. You can’t even begin to comprehend why, but he sounds almost amused. Is whatever’s going on between you and Gojo entertaining or something?
Scowling, you answer, “If only to beat his stupid handsome face in.”
This time you’re the one who’s made Tomoda laugh and it alleviates your annoyance just a bit. “Go on, then, I’ll be cheering for you.”
“It’s not like that,” you say automatically.
“If you say so.”
You sigh, ready to follow after that damn idiot, but before you do, you bow in Tomoda’s direction and tell him, earnestly, “I’m really sorry.”
He chuckles again and gestures for you to go. “Get going then, you don’t want to lose him.”
You feel like there’s some kind of double meaning in his words, but he’s right; if you linger too long you might not be able to catch up to Gojo. For good measure, you bow once more before taking your leave.
It’s lucky that Gojo is so damn tall— you spot him almost immediately, at the entrance to the ballroom. You trail after him, expertly weaving through everyone else in the room, but by the time you reach the ballroom doors he’s already gone.
Damn that man and his long legs.
“Excuse me.”
You turn to face whoever is speaking to you, actually hoping that it’s not a potential suitor. Luckily, or perhaps unluckily, it’s one of the event staff.
“Yes?” you answer carefully, praying that they’re not about to reprimand you for the outburst you had earlier.
“If you’re looking for that handsome gentleman, he headed that way,” the staff member informs you, pointing down the hallway. At the other end you see a large sign indicating the hotel’s garden is in that direction. It’s a weird place for Gojo to go, but then again he’s just like that sometimes. Grateful, you bow to thank the event staffer before heading in the direction they indicated.
When you walk out into the garden, it feels almost as if you’ve been transported to another world entirely. The night air is cool on your face, and the loud chatter of the ballroom is completely gone, replaced with the gentle sound of running water. Maybe there’s some sort of fountain nearby. Looking around, you step further into the garden. You’re surrounded by a canopy of trees, their branches adorn with fairy lights that illuminate the area in a soft, warm glow. You remember reading that this hotel is a popular wedding venue and you wonder if this garden is where they hold the ceremonies. It would make sense, but it appears that no one is getting married here tonight.
There’s no sign of Gojo though.
The garden is pretty big, so you keep searching. As you walk, the sound of water grows louder and soon enough you find yourself at what has to be the center of the garden. Your entire body stills, your jaw nearly dropping as you take in the sight before you. The fountain you had speculated about turns out to be much, much larger than you thought. It’s really more like a stone pool than a fountain. It’s surrounded by decorative stone structures, which seem to be fountains themselves, feeding water into the pool. Finally, you take a step closer, and you notice the fountain is illuminated, giving the water a soft, ethereal glow. Running through the center of the pool, bisecting it, is a disjointed stone pathway, the steps spaced enough to reveal the water beneath, but close enough to prevent a bridal train or anyone paying attention to where they’re stepping from taking an unwanted dip.
At the end of the pathway is a small landing, a small, square island in the middle of the pool. The edges are decorated in flowers and decorative stone lanterns. It’s picturesque and you think that this must be where people exchange their vows and promises of everlasting love.
It’s here where you find Satoru Gojo.
His back is to you, and you could, if you wanted, turn back around and leave him here.
But you don’t.
You make your way toward him, carefully stepping onto the stone pathway as if you might slip or sink into the water beneath. When you’re sure of your footing you take a step forward, then another, and another. Just as you’re about to make it to the landing, Gojo turns around to face you. He smiles, and your entire body goes still at the sight. The look on his face is far softer, far sweeter than you’re used to. If you were crazy, you’d go so far as to say that it looks almost loving.
He takes a step toward you, and then another and another. With each step he takes, your heartbeat grows louder and more erratic, the sound of it filling your ears. Your eyes are fixed on Gojo as he approaches and you wonder if his infinity is up because it almost feels like the closer he gets the slower he goes.
But eventually, he does reach you.
Gojo looks down at you and you can see that amused sparkle in his eyes as he says, “Look who decided to join me tonight.”
The sound of his voice frees you from your daze and you glare at him. “Cut the crap, Gojo.”
His lips curve, forming an expression you’re more familiar with, one you’re used to wrangling. “What do you mean?”
“Don’t play dumb; it’s not cute,” you hiss, earning you the smallest pout from him. You ignore it. “Why’d you take my cards earlier?”
“I—” he begins, enunciating dramatically, “was saving you from a world of heartbreak.”
“Were you?” you ask, your voice less of a challenge than it was before.You can tell Gojo notices from the shift in his expression.
He doesn’t say anything about it though, and he continues, his voice dropping to something more somber, more serious. “It wouldn’t work out.”
You look into his eyes, staring at the endless sparkling blue sky within them and consider arguing with him, disagreeing with him because it’s like second nature to you.
But you decide not to.
Instead, you look away as you admit, “I know.”
Gojo doesn’t laugh or gloat and it makes you wonder if your confession surprises him. You don’t check though, and continue speaking, your voice low, “Tomoda's a nice guy. He deserves a happy, normal love and that's… not something I can promise him."
For as long as you are a jujutsu sorcerer, your life will always be in danger. Every mission carries not only the risk of death, but the chance that you won't even make it home in a body bag. The stress of that, the fear of it, isn't something you can carelessly give to someone else, especially not someone you’d want to spend the rest of your life with. You’d like to think it’d be different with another jujutsu sorcerer, someone who knows the reality of the world you’re part of, but even then you have your doubts.
"So," Gojo's voice is strangely quiet and you notice there's something, some emotion you don't recognize saturating his tone, "you into that guy?"
You sigh as you answer, honestly this time, "No. I'm not."
Gojo doesn't say anything in response— no wiseass quip, no pompous remark, nothing. You don't mind, but it's very odd for him to be silent.
Naturally, it doesn't last for long.
"You know," he drawls, his tone suddenly playful. "Even though I was obviously the hottest person in the room, you looked pretty good yourself."
It feels like all the air has been knocked out of you. The compliment, on its own, is strange because you can't even remember the last time Gojo complimented you, if he ever has, but more than that, where in the world did that come from? You know Gojo has a penchant for unpredictable behavior, but this is something else.
In your shock, you turn to face him, and you realize that the compliment was just the tip of the iceberg. He's leaning down, his gaze fixed on you, the blue glow of his eyes wiping the knowledge of how to breathe from your mind. His palm ghosts over your cheek, and though he's not touching you, you can still feel the warmth emanating off it. You are hyper aware of him coming closer, his face, his lips approaching yours.
No, no, no.
It has to be some illusion, some trick of the mind, because there's no way that Satoru Gojo actually wants to—
Bewildered, you take a step back and your foot manages to wedge itself in one of the gaps of the stone pathway. You wobble, thrown entirely off balance. Seconds later, you're falling sideways straight into the water.
Gojo stares down at you, actually looking shocked for once and you wish you had your phone out to take a picture. It doesn't take long for him to get over it and he starts to laugh uncontrollably.
You glare at him like a drenched cat and raise your hand to splash at him. Weirdly enough, he lets the water hit him, his infinity remaining inactive.
"Don't laugh!" you snap at him.
Of course, he keeps laughing.
You try to lift yourself out of the water, but the river stones beneath you are too slippery for you to get a good grip. If you reposition yourself you think you could do it, but if you do your clothes will be completely drenched and that's the last thing you want right now.
With an exasperated sigh, you ask, "Gojo, will you please help me?"
He snickers, "Wow. Didn't think you'd actually ask."
You glare at him.
"Okay, okay," he steps toward you and outstretches one of his hands for you to take. For once, you don't hesitate to take it and Gojo pulls you from the water with ease, but you think that maybe he uses a little too much force as you collide with the expanse of his chest.
This is too close! You try to take another step back, but Gojo is faster, wrapping his arms around you to keep you from moving.
"Careful," he warns and you think he's teasing you. Is it just you, or is his voice just a touch deeper than normal? Regardless, the sound manages to scramble your thoughts a little. "Or you'll end up taking another dip."
"...right," you mumble, trying to straighten your thoughts. "Thanks."
You think Gojo will let you go.
But he doesn't, and the two of you remain there, pressed close. You're sure the wetness of your clothes is spreading to his, slowly messing up that expensive suit of his. Gojo doesn't seem to care though, but maybe that's because it's just water.
"...you could do it, if you wanted," Gojo's voice is barely audible.
"Huh?"
When he speaks again, it's louder this time, "Give someone a normal, happy love. It's not like you're completely broken or anything like that."
You blink, confused. What is he talking about? Then it clicks and you explain, "That's not it."
Now it seems like Gojo’s confused for once. "Huh?"
"I meant… he’s a non-sorcerer, so…" you trail off, not wanting to explain. Gojo should be able to catch your drift.
He does. “Right, right. It’d suck for your non-sorcerer boyfriend if you were to just suddenly die a terrible and horrific death, huh.”
A little too well. “I think it’d suck for my sorcerer boyfriend too, if I had one.”
“That’s probably true, but if your boyfriend was a sorcerer, then maybe you’d die cruel and unusual deaths together. That’s romantic, isn’t it?”
“Actually, I think it’s kind of morbid.”
You think you feel Gojo’s arms shift, as if his grip is tightening ever so slightly around you. But then he starts to laugh and you figure it must have just been your imagination. You don’t really get why he’s laughing, though.
"What's so funny?" You ask when his laughter finally dies down.
"Nothing!"
You sigh. Should have known better than to think he’d give you a straight answer.
Gojo finally steps away from you, taking the warmth of his body with him and you dismally realize that you rather enjoyed him being so close. Desperately, you try to tell yourself that it’s because with him gone you’re remembering how cold and wet your clothes are right now and not for any other reason.
It's going to suck going all the way home like this.
You hear the sound of rustling cloth and as you look up you catch Gojo draping his giant blazer over your shoulders. It's warm and before you realize what you're doing you're tugging it closer around you, the scent of Gojo's cologne filling your nostrils. It’s nice you think, definitely expensive, but nice.
He stares at you, the expression on his face the strangest one yet.
"What?" you ask.
Gojo merely shakes his head again and it's obvious he plans to keep this to himself too. "Come on, let's go. Can't have you catching a cold now, hm?"
He grabs you by the wrist and starts to pull you toward the garden exit. And, maybe you're imagining it, but you think you might see the palest shade pink dusting the tips of his ears.
extra scene can be found here. :3c
#satoru gojo x you#satoru gojo x reader#gojo x you#gojo x reader#jjk x reader#gojo x y/n#nikuniku fics#i have a lot to say about this fic but i will do so elsewhere#infinite loop!verse
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Chapter 1: The President’s Son
From: Guardian Angel Series
Pairing: (future) Mafia! Stucky x Bodyguard! Reader
Summary: A longtime client snubs you, causing you to leave the life you know
Word Count: 3,629
Content/Warnings: swears, patriarchy, weaponized incompetence, borderline mansplaining, yelling, fighting, mentions of nose picking, misogyny, secrets, explosions, mentions of weapons, strong female characters, no Steve or Bucky yet
A/N: Okay, here’s the start of something long-anticipated by me. I hope you enjoy! Your feedback is greatly appreciated, can’t wait to hear what you guys think!
Dividers by @firefly-graphics
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You stood in the back of the banquet hall, eyes surveying the room like they did any other, as you tried to appear as nonchalant waitstaff for the function. That was your specialty: blending in to the background, and you were damn good at it. Tonight’s job was to do so as your were protecting the most important individuals entrusted to you: the First Lady and her son.
You moved with ease throughout the evening, keeping mobile with your head on a swivel, eyes never leaving your two clients for more than a couple seconds. After a cocktail hour, everyone had sat down for dinner and a round of awards and speeches, leaving you here for a relatively easy period.
You didn’t work alone, no. You were here as part of a group. Part of a company, actually, and it belonged to your father. He ran a security conglomerate which focused heavily on government contracting, ranging from secret service duties, to vehicle brigades, to protection and procurement of goods, virtual and physical, and you knew every single part of it. You loved your job, and you loved working with your dad. For as long as you could remember, you would spend all of your free time in his office with him as he went through schedules, and escape plans, and all sorts of strategies to keep his patrons and their assets safe. You were always flitting around, learning new things, earning you the nickname ‘tweety bird’ from him, which correlated to your codename Redwing.
You’d picked it all up so easily, you were a natural, which earned you your first presidential-adjacent gig much younger than anyone else around. Sure, it started as you going to school and posing as another student to protect the president’s son, even thought you were a few years out already, which wasn’t necessarily glamorous, since you were meant to fly under the radar, but it was an independent job. One that was coming to a close, though, as this was your eighth year of doing the same. Soon, the president would be out of office, and the security detail on his family would be greatly reduced, likely no longer requiring your services.
Even as you let your mind wander, blocking out the droning speeches and rich people backstories, you remained on high alert. If anything bad was going to happen, you had a feeling it would be at an event like this one. An event where everyone had their guard down because it was for a universally agreeable good cause. But for some reason, heading into it tonight, something was churning in your gut.
After not being able to ignore the way your stomach twisted and turned, you had gone to speak to your father about tonight, requesting backup in addition to your other two friends, Natasha and Daisy, who often accompanied you to guard shifts associated with larger crowds.
Usually he was on the same page as you, but lately, your requests had been met with more protest, likely due to your little brother’s input buzzing in your father’s ear.
Your brother, Dylan, had just freshly turned eighteen, and with it came more responsibility in the agency. For being so much younger than you, your father was giving him mountains of control, including this event of your two most important clients. With your request of a team came the the caveat that your brother would be leading it.
Dylan was, to put it nicely, an oaf? Incapable of performing a task without crashing and burning, which made your blood boil. Probably from the fires he created and you subsequently had to put out. You had no room to complain, though, as your father dismissed you from his office.
So Dylan ‘led’ your team this evening, packed with his twerp friends who were more capable, but just as reckless as him. They’d listen to some of your orders, but not without the confirmation of your brother, who knew better enough sometimes to listen to your input.
You let him think he was in the lead tonight, executing a plan you had essentially spoon fed to him in your meetings leading up to the event. There were several backup plans and exit strategies that had their own code names, made by you, of course. All Dylan, or ‘The Chief,’ as he liked to go as over coms, had to do was keep an eye out on the cameras for any suspicious activity around the venue, and be prepared to drive away if he called for extraction due to suspicious activity. That was it. You and your two trusty companions would take control of everything inside the banquet, while two of Dylan’s friends surveilled the outside. Should be easy, right?
Dylan had been instructed to give an update through your earpiece every three minutes, on any action seen in the camera footage. Every time he did, though, it was accompanied by music blasting in the car, and the increments kept getting further and further apart. Almost like he was forgetting about his responsibilities and the importance of this event on your shoulders, should something go wrong. You rolled your eyes and kept a watch of the room. If you had such little backup, it was on you now to do this job, without the team you had specifically requested.
Dylan’s friends seemed to go quiet, too, which you were hoping wasn’t due to capture or something worse, but when you heard conversation about a fantasy football draft in your ear, you knew they were at least alive, although not helpful at all.
You were sick of running blind, though, so you casually made it look like your were scratching your ear and turned away from the crowd.
“Chief, status report.” Nothing. You waited thirty seconds. Silence.
You turned back to the room, the gnawing feeling in your stomach growing as you looked out at the crowd. Natasha, code name Widow, was making her way around with a tray of champagne flutes. Daisy, codename Blossom, sat in a vent somewhere, watching from above and monitoring everyone’s trackers. The three of you sighed and continued on, hoping this night wouldn’t be every eventful, but that’s never how life goes, is it?
“Blossom, report on coms. Is everything working?”
You waited a second for the response.
“All is good, Redwing. It’s a human, not technology error.”
You rolled your eyes for the thousandth time that night, but were pulled out of your annoyance by a searing sound. In the next moment, just as you were about to ask for any other possible news from Daisy, a crackling took over your ear.
You fought the urge to wince and draw attention to yourself. It was probably Dylan finally getting back to you, but the voice that came through was one you’d never heard before. It was low and urgent.
“Get them out of there.”
You couldn’t help the way your eyes went wide and you whisper yelled, turning into the fake plant you found yourself nearby.
“Who is this? This is a secure line! What’s going on?”
You were surprised by the warning firmness of the speaker, it was menacing, who did this person think they were? Was that a threat?
“This is Bootleg. Your clients are in danger. What’s about to happen isn’t meant for them. Find a way to get them to leave.”
You sighed and nodded, although the disembodied voice named ‘Bootleg’ wasn’t reassuring. You knew to never turn down a tip, though. You weren’t going to risk it with clients like this. So you let out a sigh and made eye contact with Nat across the room.
“Execute plan beta sixteen alpha.”
She gave you a curt nod and increased her pace in a way only someone with your type of training could pick up. She was circling to make her movements seem undetectable, but she was ultimately going towards the First Lady and her son. Nat tripped, spilling the tray of champagne on their laps, causing them to gasp and look down. You could tell they were ready to yell, but they looked to your face and you nodded, signaling them to get up, brushing away anyone with apologies or offers for help, saying they were just going to clean up. The rest of the rich party goers didn’t pay it a second thought besides whispers of clumsy waitstaff. It’s not like they would bother to remember the face of one of them, though, and were too busy watching a fumbling Nat to see your approach to take your clients out of the venue. You did your best to move slowly to the same exit as them, and as soon as your bodies were behind the closed ballroom door, you were rushing them towards the back service door to get in Dylan’s getaway vehicle.
You ducked their heads under your arms as you rushed them out, and shoved them into the back of the town car, only giving a quick, breathless word to your clients and your brother.
“Take them home, Dyl. Fast. Don’t let yourself get tracked. I’ll take the decoy car. Go, now!”
He nodded like a bobble head, shifting the car in gear and peeling out of the lot as you jogged over to the other vehicle where Daisy and Nat were already waiting in the front seat for you. They moved fast.
You hopped in, Daisy expertly backing out until she hit the street. Just as she put it in drive, you flinched at a sudden noise and looked out the back window to where an explosion happened in front of the venue and soldiers dressed in all black rushed in through the cloud of smoke. This would definitely hit the news tomorrow, but you were sure your father would commend you for the safe delivery of two of his most important packages.
Daisy and Nat had been by your side for as long a you could remember. When you were in elementary school, you remembered a brooding girl sitting at the end of the lunch table, arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed, with the angriest pout you’d ever seen. You walked over and plopped down with your tray.
“Hi.”
She looked up from her meal and to your smile and simply gave a blink of acknowledgment, face unchanging.
“Are you okay? Something wrong with your lunch?”
She shook her head and took a deep breath, sitting up to eat a tater tot.
“No. Something’s wrong with my shirt.”
You tilted your head to the side. “What about it? I think it’s beautiful. I love Daisies.”
She shrugged and continued to pick through her food. “Yeah, I guess they’re alright. But my mom forced me to wear this. I had a plain black shirt picked out and she gave me this. I don’t wanna wear daisies.”
You giggled and looked down at the plain black shirt on your body. “Trade?”
For the first time, you watched the corner of her lip reach a smile, your new friend who would soon earn the shirt flower as a nickname. That little grin was huge compared to the tight line her lip previously held. That was the start of a bunch of mini smirks and teamwork.
Nat had been around since you were in diapers. Her parents had worked for your father’s organization their entire lives, so when they passed as she was in her teens, your family took her in.
She was always incredibly smart, her wit challenging you and Daisy, but the two of you would hit her right back. The timeline of her moving in with you, too, was a few years before the presidential gig started, but she rose through the ranks with you, through every single job, the two of you bringing Daisy on board who caught on quickly. Your grouping was nearly unrivaled. Nearly.
Daisy and Nat physically stood by your sides as the three of you looked on to your father talking on a podium. Your best suits were pressed and tailored perfectly for the special occasion. It was his retirement party in your family’s backyard garden where he was noting the successes of the company under him, including the recent incident from which the two important clients had been saved.
The three of you lightly nudged each other’s arms in commendation for the quick act despite your lack of backup, a small smile on your face, a smirk on Nat’s, with Daisy looking as composed and stoic as ever. You father continued in his speech, noting the valiant effort that needs to be maintained in a generational business like this, one that should be rewarded and carried on for the generations to come. You stood straight, chin up with pride at your hard work and dedication finally paying off.
“I was a young pup, only in my early twenties when I took this business over from my father. He deemed me most fit for the job, so it is my pleasure to do the same, keeping this line of work led by my family. I’d like to name my replacement, someone who valiantly saved the president’s son and wife. Someone who the son has raved about for returning them home to the White House safely. My wonderful child…”
You were ready for the culmination of years being under his wing. He gestured his arm out to the side and you braced yourself for the good news, except the arm wasn’t outstretched towards you. It was directed towards the other side of the stage and everyone’s eyes followed. “Dylan.”
Dylan was jerkily shoved forward by one of his friends, having been zoned out for the entirety of your father’s speech, but at the sound of cheering and clapping, a smile grew on his face. He waved at the crowd, walking over to the podium to shake your father’s hand and give a word of his own.
Meanwhile, your face fell. It was dragged downward in defeat. You quickly pulled yourself together, though, at a squeeze to your arm. You couldn’t even tell which side it came from. Your body was going numb. Shifting to plant your feet and fighting the burn in your eyes, you looked straight forward, no longer at the podium, although you had no way to shut off your ears.
“Wow, wow. Thank you. This is such an honor. At eighteen years old, I will be the youngest to ever run this organization.”
It seemed like he’s was at least doing well and presenting a strong face. That was rare.
“Haha, I beat ya, gramps! Okay, let’s party!”
You outwardly cringed, but your legs were paralyzed as his friends let out a whooping cheer and the party erupted in confetti. It was getting caught in your hair as Nat and Daisy dragged you away and inside, up the stairs to your childhood bedroom, jostling you like a rag doll. You felt almost catatonic.
As soon as you flopped down on your bed, though, you turned over and screamed into your pillow before sitting up, realizing this act of melodrama was going to wrinkle your suit.
You sat up and sniffled, rubbing your eyes and taking a deep breath to give yourself just a moment to think. You looked between your best friends and started pointing.
“Daise, can you pack up anything you think I might need from here? Whatever I can’t live without.”
You then looked to the redhead who was peeking out the window, watching your father enter the outdoor entrance of his home office.
“Nat, can you gather some home essentials? Food, first aid, some of the hidden and spare weapons. Only the ones they won’t sense are missing, okay?”
She nodded. “Yeah. We better do it quick. Your pops just came in.”
You bit your lip and your nostrils flared in anger and thought, rubbing your hands over your face. “Okay. That’s fine, I need to talk to him anyway. That should give you enough time to grab everything. Then we’re heading back to the apartment to get some essentials.”
The three of you were roommates in the city, renting out a place Daisy’s distant uncle owned, which allowed you some freedoms, as well as independence from the possible tracing of your location on government records. Even under a security conglomerate, you could sense things were going downhill, so it was a good choice to move out and detach yourself. At this point, you were barely traceable. Only one thing tethered you here on a paper trail: the company.
You stormed out of your room and down the stairs to the hall that held your father’s office. You were furious. You had no patience left for formality or kindness, this was all rage. You kicked in the strong oak door, splintering the wooden frame, and were met with the view of your father and brother clinking whiskey glasses, an old celebratory reserve poured in them.
You stomped over to the filing cabinets where your file, thick as a novel, was stored. Next to it, you pulled out two more, no less impressive. Your dad, even though he possessed several methods for tech security, still kept employee information on paper in case he accidentally hired a mole. Everything was under lock and key and 24 hour surveillance.
You dug around in the left side drawer of his desk until you found the cigar lighter, hitting the edge of the folders until they caught and throwing them into his metal trash can. It was only then that he and your brother let words come out of their dropped jaws and awestruck faces.
“Tweety Bird, what’s the issue, kiddo? Didn’t wanna celebrate with your old man and little brother?”
You scoffed as you put your hands on your hips.
“Celebrate!? Celebrate what!? Being snubbed? Overlooked for something I’ve dedicated my life towards!?”
Your father’s bushy brows furrowed in confusion, your brother’s face mirroring it in a mini version. “What do you mean? You haven’t been snubbed. Dylan and I agree you’re meant to run teams and operations. You wouldn’t want to be in charge. Plus, it’s tradition that the first son takes over.”
You threw your hands up in exasperation. Smoke was filling the room, but partially getting swept out the cracked windows that pointed toward the back yard. “You didn’t think to ask me, the one keeping your business afloat, to run it!? No one knows it better than me, but it’s so ridiculous. Just because I’m an older sister like Aunt Kay, doesn’t mean I don’t wanna be in charge! She wanted to leave this life, but I don’t!”
You heard a chuckle rise behind you. “What, Dylan?”
He shrugged with a smug smile on his face. “Aunt Kay didn’t want to leave this life. She wanted the company, too. But Gramps gave it to dad. That’s why she fucked off to who knows where and started that bank vault company.”
You gasped in shock and looked to your father but he seemed unaffected. You turned to him now, disgusted with the sight of your little brother. “What!? Do you hear yourself right now!? Just because we aren’t men!? That’s insane!! I’m the one who saved the president’s family. Not Dylan, me! He was too busy sitting on his ass and picking his nose to be of any help. Maybe we would’ve seen the team coming to attack the venue sooner if he would’ve done his job!”
Your chest was heaving and your face was warm from the yelling. Your father still calmly continued. “Dylan returned the family safe and sound. You were nowhere to be seen. He deserves this step of responsibility, but I have no doubt you can guide him like an invisible hand.”
You shook your head, moving back towards the door between the leather couches of the sitting area, pacing on the Persian rug. “No, no. Absolutely not. I refuse to keep performing thankless service. You’ve made a mistake. I no longer want to work for you and I no longer want to be a part of this family. This whole thing is fucked. I’m out.”
Your father sighed, about to speak up. “Bird, we-“
He was cut off by the arm of your brother, though. “No, dad. If she wants to leave, I think she should. I don’t want anyone here questioning my leadership. The president’s son will back me on that. He’s upset the extraction ruined a designer suit and thinks that I’m the best fit, too. I can run this without her.”
Your dad gave a hmph of affirmation, which sent you over the edge. After all those years of service, both your father and the president’s son still didn’t credit your work. You couldn’t stand this anymore, especially not when Dylan was fabricating lies in his own head about the greatness you performed.
“You know what, Dyl? Yeah, let’s have it your way. You guys will never need to see me again. Good luck not running this thing into the ground.”
You turned on your heel and marched out the door. When you turned the corner, you saw both Nat and Daisy waiting for you, double fisting duffel bags. You motioned for both of them to head to Nat’s car, walking quickly, but they were more than capable of keeping up. You heard Daisy speak from over your left shoulder.
“Bird, where are we going?”
As you barged through the glass front door and put on your sunglasses, you took a breath in of the air that marked your new life, outside the stuffy patriarchy of what you thought would be your legacy.
“Somewhere far. And don’t ever call me that again.”
Next >
Bonus A/N: Bruh, could you imagine being betrayed by your own father like that? Also, we’ll be seeing more of Daisy as the reader for Jake’s storyline in the future.
Taglist: @hawkeyes-queen @ronearoundblindly
#guardian Angel series#bodyguard reader#bodyguard!reader#stucky x reader#mafia stucky x reader#mafia!stucky x reader#mafia stucky x bodyguard reader#mafia!stucky x bodyguard!reader#mafia! stucky x bodyguard! reader#mafia! stucky#mafia! stucky x reader#Steve rogers#Steve rogers fanfiction#Steve rogers x you#Steve rogers x reader#Bucky Barnes#bucky Barnes x reader#bucky Barnes x you#Steve rogers x reader x bucky Barnes#Steve rogers x you x bucky Barnes#stucky fanfiction#mafia stucky fanfiction#guardian Angel chapter 1#marvel#mcu#Chris Evans#Sebastian Stan
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Eyes Never Lie
gif made by margeretmarch
Coriolanus Snow x b!woc capitol reader
(Contains spoilers for T.B.O.S.&S)
A.N: what the hell is a p.o.v anyways, it bounces from one character to another. I am not the best writer so if you see a spelling mistake/ typo I apologize, I’ll get better.
A.N 2.0 : this might get a part 2 because my mind got one idea, then another and I just RAN with it.
Word Count: 4.2k words (trust me, it was more)
———
When the both of you first met, it just so happened to be your first year at the academy. At the time, you were only acquainted to one person, a nice boy who, despite his riches, was very humble, and dare you say good looking: Sejanus Plinth. He had approached you, making civil conversation, and before long you both discovered the two of you had similar thoughts and opinions, particularly about the capitol.
That was when you first laid eyes on him. The tall blue eyed blonde boy. From the look on his face, anyone could tell he was a little nervous, hell everyone was a bit nervous to be here, being the first day and all. But flexing your hand every 5 seconds is a clear sign you’re about to pass out from fear. That was when you approached him, Sejanus not too far behind.
When he turned to you, his eyes widened a little, shocked someone was looking to make conversation with him. While his eyes went from in between Sejanus and yourself, yours stayed on his face. He kept a calm face, not showing a lot of expression, one free lesson growing up you had mastered.
Even though you were blessed to grow up in the capitol, you never much cared for the people, viewing the other districts almost like animals and not people infuriated you.
But you were good at hiding your expression behind your eyes, and this boy was good at it too. Too good. In fact, you couldn’t tell what he was thinking, “Odd, I can usually tell, even guess what people think.” Not him, not Coriolanus Snow, as he introduced himself. You knew of him, just not anything about him other than his family name.
As years went by, it became clear the 3 of you would be close friends, but your feelings for Coriolanus grew deeper than yours for Sejanus. You couldn’t see Sejanus as much as you could Coriolanus, so naturally you would have a deeper connection. The both of you even walked to school most of the time because you lived so close together.
Today you decided to add a couple of beads onto your braids this morning and walked out of the house. After walking a couple of blocks, you spotted Coriolanus just walking outside, and waving to you. “You’re up early.” You said, giving him a short hug which he returned. “I didn’t want to be late.” You rolled your eyes as he said that, “You’ve never been late to class, ever.”
He looked forward, a smirk on his face. “Can’t afford to be late.” He always answered. You looked up at him, his eyes never wavering from the road ahead. “You know why.” He then added, to which you nodded as a reply.
You discovered his true reasoning of why he strived to be top of the class by chance. He had gotten sick as he was walking home, having an uncontrollable coughing fit and fell out on the grass. You refused to let him walk home alone and that was the first time you had seen him so vulnerable. He almost looked embarrassed when you helped him in his home and to his room.
As you helped him out of his jacket, he slowly laid back. You went to get a towel to wipe the blanket of sweat off his forehead. As you came back, he caught your hand. “I’m sorry you had to see this.” He weakly said, returning your attention to him,” Go ahead, laugh at me.” I shook your head, “Why would I? You’re my friend.” You then took the towel and wiped the sweat off his forehead.
“I may have been raised capitol, Coriolanus, but I was also raised with a soul. I’d do anything to survive and succeed in this life, who am I to judge you for doing the same thing?”
For a moment the only thing in the room was the sound of his breathing as his hand reached for your hand, and kissed it, before holding it firmly, never looking away from you. You looked in his eyes, and for the first time you could finally see what he was thinking, “Thank you”. You then nodded, not needing him to say a word as you stood up, and kissed his forehead, “Get some rest, Corio, you need it.” As you walked out of the home, you walked in silence.
You felt like a terrible friend, not knowing how much he was going through. But that wasn’t the only reason, your heart soared when his lips kissed your hand. Sure it might have been an innocent gesture, but the way he looked at you made your heart stop for a second. Sometimes you swear he did it on purpose.
During the last academy year, the closer you got to Coriolanus, the more you realized you truly loved him, and sometimes you thought he loved you back. The walks to the academy became slower and somehow his hand always found yours. At one point you had to run to get there on time, earning the both of you harsh stares from Dean Highbottom and smirks from Sejanus.
The both of you also agreed to study together whenever you could, even including Sejanus whenever he was free. There was no doubt in your mind that either you or Coriolanus would be top of the class, and receiving the Plinth Prize. And if you were the one who came out on top, you would give Coriolanus the funds he needed, whatever they would be.
While you two studies for the last test, he smiled when you rolled his eyes. “Alright smartass, you’re going to pass.” You said. Suddenly, he pulled you into his arms, and hugged you tightly.
You then felt his voice break, “Thank you.” He softly said. “You’re my friend, I’d help you with anything.” You said, looking up at him, a smile splitting your face. As you walked to class the next day & took the exam, he had a sly smirk on his face the whole day. Even at lunch he didn’t drop it. “Someone in a real good mood.” Sejanus said, nudging his shoulder. “Yeah, what’s got you in a good mood?” You teasingly asked. “You know.” He said, looking at you, the smirk turning into a smile, which all of your mirrored.
As the two of you walked back home he had a smile on his face again. Confidence. As he stayed close behind you, you stopped when you got to his doorstep. “So, here’s to winning the Plinth Prize tomorrow.” You said, giving him one last hug, which he returned. That was when you lifted your head to look up at him, but he was already looking down at you. Once again, you couldn’t read the thoughts behind his eyes, but you could make a good guess. He only had that similar look when it was just the two of you together: admiration.
“What is it?” You asked, a nervous chuckle leaving your mouth. He only shook his head, offered you a smile, finally releasing you from the embrace. “See you tomorrow, Calanthe.” He whispered before going inside. “One day I’ll look up what that name means.” You said to yourself, walking home.
The next day, graduation day. You woke up early to get your makeup on, slicking your edges back, and, to enhance your braids, added a gold charm in the middle. Afterwards you got dressed in the outfit Tigris made for your graduation. She insisted on it and told you she wouldn’t take no for an answer. As you walked to their home, you heard your name being called from behind you. Tigris was waving you down before hugging you excitedly. “Turn around for me!” She said, making you twirl as she admired her work.
As you waited, you saw Grandma’am clip a rose and walk out of her room. “Oh, dearie don’t you look gorgeous.” She said, smiling at you and opening her arms to you. You met her in the middle and gave her a light hug. “Not a gorgeous as you, Grandma’am.” You said, smiling at her kind words. She then walked forward and after an exchange of words, pinned the rose to his vest.
His eyes finally met yours, and then they took in your dress. He walked forward and kissed your hand, a now normal occurrence between the two of you. “Shall we?” He asked, before walking the both of you out the door. As the two of you walked to the academy, you could feel his eyes on you. “You look beautiful.” He said, giving you a smile, and making your heart soar once more.
“And you look dashing today.” You complimented, not missing the red tint on his cheeks. As you two walked up the stairs, his arm looped into yours. “Never missed a class, never been late.” He said to himself. “Corio, you got this.” You said, encouraging him, he offered you a small smile just as a new and familiar voice broke the moment.
“Why Coriolanus Snow.” You saw the small smirk grow on his face. “Clemie.” He said, offering him his other arm. “Hey girl.” She said, nodding to you, and getting a smile in return. “Two girls on your arm, must be your lucky day.” Clemmie teased and making Corio roll his eyes. As she continued to talk, your mind went to the graduation. You were getting more nervous than usual.
Something felt off today, and you didn’t like it.
You didn’t realize you had stayed in a trance until Sejanus walked up beside you, breaking the gaze. “Sejanus, you made it to the reaping for once.” “And you made it to graduation, Festus, we’re both shocked.” After hearing Sejanus’ quips, you went to sit down. You didn’t know why your nerves were acting up, but you couldn’t kick this feeling. “You ok?” You heard a voice ask, Sejanus was standing over you, concern in his eyes. “I’m just nervous about today.” You said, making him nod in response.
“Well, you may be right.” He said, sitting done next to you. That made the hair on the back on your neck stand up. And the look on his face didn’t help either. “What do you mean?” You asked, but getting no answer. Then as the rest of the students sat down, you saw why he was so silent. After it was announced there would be no more Plinth Prize, you looked at Coriolanus, who had a worried expression on his face.
However, when it was announced that the graduates would be mentors of the Hunger Games, that was when you froze, and your mind started to race.
There’s 25 graduates.
There are only 24 tributes.
Someone isn’t getting a tribute.
Going from district to district, started to guess who had a good chance at winning. Your heart broke when one girl, Dill, was pulled out. You stared to wonder if she had been voted so she could die in the arena. When it got to the district 12 female tribute, it was down to you and Coriolanus. His hand found yours and held it tightly, but you didn’t know who was holding on tighter.
“The runt girl from district twelve, she belongs to Coriolanus Snow.”
And that was when you knew he was the one holding on to you. He squeezed your hand so hard you almost thought he broke it.
The tribute: Lucy Gray, was wearing a colorful dress with a corset top. You had to admit, she was beautiful, and so was her dress. You watched as she put a snake on a girls dress, making you smirk. “I love her already” you thought to yourself. But then your mind suddenly came back to reality, you didn’t have a tribute. What did I do wrong? Did I pass? Did I fail?
The only thing that broke your trance was a voice singing, then another. You saw Lucy Gray stand up, and continue to sing by herself. “YOU CAN KISS MY ASS!” She then screamed. As the rest of the people laughed at her, you and Coriolanus shared a look: I like her.
As the laughter started to die down, one voice spoke up. “If you didn’t receive a tribute, report to Dr. Gaul.” Highbottom’s voice spoke up, and then it was silent. All eyes turned toward you, and it made you want to curl up in a ball and die. Sejanus’ hand found yours, giving you a silent squeeze of encouragement, and Coriolanus’ did the same. You then walked towards the woman, a small smile gracing her face.
“Let’s have a talk, child.” She said, her hand finding your back, leading you away from the hall. You were only able to catch a small glimpse of Coriolanus’ worried expression as you went down the hallway. She started to hum a tune while she led you to her lab. You had never been here, but you always wanted to get a peek. “Guess I got my wish.”
“I’ve been watching you, dear, for a long time.” She said, going further into the room. “Almost the top of your class, but you could never quite get that edge.” Dr. Gaul said, pinching her fingers together. “Why am I here?” You asked, finally finding your voice. Dr. Gaul then raised her eyebrows, and then let out a dark chuckle. “Let me ask you: What do you crave most in this world?”
You sighed, “To survive and thrive in this world.” She nodded, “Good answer.” She said, smiling. “You and your friend, Coriolanus, you two are good friends. Bonds like that build trust, those bonds can help you live as much as they can destroy you.” Dr. Gaul said, going to one of her glass cases in her lab. You didn’t know what the hell was in it, and frankly, you didn’t want to know. “I’ve known President Ravinstill for a long time, and we both live well, and thrive.” She said, putting her hand on your shoulder before looking down at you.
“I see myself in you, child. You thirst for survival, but to thrive you need to reach for power,” that was when she gave you a deadpanned look, “that’s why I pulled you from the games.” Your eyes widened at the realization, and she smiled once more. “You don’t need the Plinth Prize when you got mommy and daddy’s money. Why settle for a housewife when you have the brains of game maker.”
You almost shouted when she finished, “Game maker?” You said, to which she nodded. “You’ve always been a curious child, a strong appetency for knowledge.” Dr. Gaul said, putting her gloved hand under your chin. “You want a look behind the curtain? You wanna know how the puppeteer makes the strings? You need to join the magic show.”
You thought about your options, but you knew this opportunity wouldn’t come around twice. Almost like she knew your answer, Dr. Gaul then took you hand, and led you deeper into her lab.
After talking for hours, you knocked on Coriolanus’ door and it immediately opened to a shocked Tigris. “Where’s Corio?” You asked, after hugging her. It didn’t take long for him to come around the corner and hugged you tightly. “What happened? Did you get hurt?” He asked, but you stopped his hand as he examined your face. “I’m okay. Dr. Gaul just pulled from the competition.” You calmly said, and immediately regretted it, the faces of Tigris and Coriolanus going from worry to shock. “Why?” He asked.
She told me she’d be mentoring me from now on. I’ll be studying under her from now on, as well as continuing my classes.” His eyebrows rose before hugging her again. “That’s great news.” He said, but then I hugged him tighter. “For a moment, I thought my life was done for.” He nodded, and then looked you deep in the eyes. “We will get through this. I promise you.” You left a few minutes later, but before you got down the street, Coriolanus caught you “Hey!” He shouted, making you turn around. He was running towards you, holding out a wrapped cloth.
“I meant to give you this at the graduation, but you were pulled away.” He said. You unwrapped it, and smiled when you saw the flower charm. You smiled and held it tightly. “I meant to get a charm for this one day.” You said, looking up at him. “Guess I beat you to it.” He said, before returning the smile. “Meet me at the train tomorrow. I have a plan on how to get in Lucy Gray’s good graces.” You nodded and went home afterwards.
The next morning you got up early and put your uniform on before walking to the station, where Coriolanus was already talking to Lucy Gray, who saw you walking up to them. “Another mentor?” She suddenly said, turning towards you, pointing a white rose in your direction, obviously a gift from Coriolanus. Smart.
That was when he turned to you, and put an arm around you. “This is Lucy Gray. Lucy Gray, this is my closest friend.” He said, and you gave her a smile. “Another rebel?” She said, looking at you. “If it fits,” you said, shrugging, before leaning closer to her. “ loved the stunt you pulled with the snake by the way.” You added, making her smirk.
The moment was cut short when a peacekeeper nudged her and the male tribute towards a vehicle. “It was lovely to meet you two.” She said, before being led away to the back of a van. You then saw his eyes go to the van, and then it clicked in your head. “Corio, don’t.” You said, but it was too late. He was running toward the van, and you were following close behind him. It finally registered what you just did when he slammed the door behind him and felt the van move, going wherever it was going.
And now here you two were.
In a vehicle.
Full of tributes who were looking at the two of you like lions to lambs. Corio put you beside him, putting you closer to the tribute from 2 and the wall. “Hi.” He said, his voice sounding weak. “You in the wrong cage pretty boy, pretty girl?” The tribute Realer asked, tilting his head to look at you. “This cage is delightful.” He said, and then Reaper went towards Corio, pinning him to the back. You yelped when you were then surrounded by the tributes. “Shit.” You thought.
Somewhere between the exchange between Corio and the other tributes, you felt the truck come to a sudden stop, getting everyone’s attention. That was when you felt the truck start to tilt forward, everyone started to slide down. In one swoop you reached for Lucy’s hand as she reached for yours as Coriolanus wrapped one arm around your waist and your free arm around his shoulders. The three of you were able to hang on to each other as the other tributes began to slide down and out of the van. The three of you followed suit after the harness broke, sending you all tumbling out of the truck.
Lucy slid down first, with you and Corio falling out last. He was able to wrap both of his arms around you before everyone let out groans and curses from falling on rocks. When you were able to look up, you realized exactly where you were: The Capitol Zoo. And if fate couldn’t make it any better, Lucky Flickerman was in front of the pen, with his entourage of cameramen. “You gotta be kidding me.” You said, groaning and leaving you head down, only to be met with a blue shirt.
As you lifted your head, you were face to face with Coriolanus, who, somehow, had managed to keep his hold on you when everyone tumbled out of the van. “You ok?” You asked, to which he nodded. “Yes. Are you ok?” He asked, and you nodded in response. His eyes went to your necklace and the rose charm attached to it, a smile blooming on his face. His hand touched it, “You put it on.” He said in a soft tone & a tender look in his eyes.
As you both smiled at each other, you felt one hand go to your cheek and to then the other to your waist. The rest of Panem melted away as his breath hit your face. You forgot about being in the capitol, being Gaul’s student, and the tributes around you as you looked in between his eyes and his lips. “Calanthe.” He whispered, his voice so soft it was almost a whisper. That was until the voice of Flickerman broke the moment. “Are those academy students?” He said, and the both of you looked up to see the camera pointed directly at you.
“You guys ok?” Lucy asked, walking up to the both of you. “Yeah, you?” You asked, getting off of Corio and helping him up. The three of you looked around, and sighed. That’s when you began to brainstorm: how could you get out of this without getting expelled? “We gotta get them to love her.” You said to yourself. You then brought your necklace to the front of your shirt before unbuttoning the top button, making the rose charm more visible. “We give them what they want: a performance.” You then walked to Lucy and began to smooth out her hair while Corio broke the white rose and tucked it behind her ear.
He then put her hand out for Lucy to take, which she accepted. He then turned and opened his arm towards you, making you raise your eyebrows. “Trust me.” He whispered, and Lucy nodded towards his arm, and that’s how you found yourself being next to him as he presented Lucy to a pair of children at the cage.
You weren’t only shocked of how he fell into the role of a mentor, but how Lucy played her part as a tribute. She had a smile on her face when she talked to the children, and a calm expression when Flickerman approached and interviewed her. You couldn’t help but smile as she talked about her dress and where she was from. The Covey sounded like it was a homely group of people. You couldn’t help but picture how the nature of district 12 looked.
That was when Lucky Flickerman turned towards you. “And who might this lovely lady be? Are you also her mentor?” He asked, the camera’s filling the microphone as it was put in front of you. An innocent smile grew on your face as you shifted your tone into a kind voice, while still having a serious edge to it. “No sir, I’m taking courses from Dr. Gaul instead of being a mentor in the games. I’m here to support my dear friend, Coriolanus Snow.” You said, smiling up at him, which he responded by squeezing you closer to him. “You both seem pretty close for dear friends. How long have you known each other?” Flickerman asked, moving the microphone to Coriolanus.
“Since the first day we went to the academy. She approached me, and we’ve been close ever since. I’ve never known a more intelligent and alluring woman.” He said, and your eyes did a double take at his choice of words. Before you could answer, peacekeepers walked in and escorted you out of the cage. “I’ll come back later.” You said to Lucy Gray, holding her hand for a moment before you were taken away, Corio coming out a minute later. As the both of you walked back to class, you kept looking up at Coriolanus.
“On a scale of one to expelled, how fucked do you think we are?” You asked, making him chuckle. “He wanted us to make them spectacles, he never said how we had to do it.” He said, nudging your shoulder, making you huff out a short laugh. You then took his hand and gripped it tight, which he reciprocated. “To survive and thrive.” You said, walking closer to the classroom. “We will survive these games,” Coriolanus softly said, before stopping you, and making you look up at him. “I promise you.”
LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK
#coriolanus snow x reader#the hunger games#coriolanus snow#tbosas#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#black!reader#black reader#coriolanus snow x black reader#tbosas x black reader#young coriolanus snow#coriolanus x you#coriolanus snow imagine#tom blyth#fanfic#tom blyth fanfiction#tom blyth x you#tom blyth x reader#eyes never lie#coriolanus snow x black! reader#coriolanus snow x black!reader
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sweetest lies | c.s (01)
prologue // next // series m.list
pairing: choi san x f!reader
word count: 3.6k
warning: nothing i can think of
you can't help but to be annoyed as you shove through the crowd, the blasting music and odors of party people something you were once familiar with, but now only serving as a reminder of the person you used to be.
you weren't gonna come, initially--stuck at your job until the evening and your boss incredibly hard to convince, having made sure to tell yunho beforehand there was a chance you weren't gonna make it.
but afterall, it is yunho, and you were most likely gonna do anything, promising your boss you'll work overtime tomorrow if you have to, if he just let you off this once.
it was the fastest you ever got ready, your hair barely done, makeups too light for your liking, and dress thrown on sloppily, but you still look good.
you know you still do by the amount of eyes and heads hurled your direction while you attempt to free from the overwhelming crowd, relieved to finally find a space where you can breathe even for a second.
you turn and sneak glances past many strangers' heads, hoping to catch at least someone you recognize and knows about yunho's whereabouts, considering the text you sent him fifteen minutes ago went completely unanswered.
something you always hated about parties, whether when you were still into them or not, was that you didn't know more than half of the people that showed up, and this one is no exception--despite being held by yunho at one of the smaller estates owned by his family, everyone either looks like rich kids living a double life or three years younger than you.
yunho usually isn't one for parties either, but he needed something different; something new from dinners and sweet smiles with his parents and people twice his age.
"fancy seeing you here," a voice from behind makes you snap around, finding hongjoong with a cup in his hand and something amusing in his eyes.
"thought you got too good for this kind of setting."
the roll of your eyes is apparent, and you don't bother to hide it.
"i'm not here to get high or whatever, i'm here for yunho."
"of course you are," he snides, the tone and attitude all the evidence that you're just wasting time talking to him, and that even after all these years, hongjoong still holds a little grudge for you.
you cross your arms, leaning to one side to show the impatience.
"so it will be nice if you just tell me where he is," you add.
hongjoong shrugs, taking a sip of his drink nonchalantly, speaking in a dull tone, "haven't seen or heard of him since i got here."
"why the hell do i even bother," you mutter under your breath, about to bring the search somewhere else when he speaks up again.
"why don't you ask the one person that would actually know where he is? or are you too good for that, too?"
you squint, confused, until he nods his head another direction and you follow, landing right into the view of the kitchen and to someone you know all too well just from the back.
his hands on some poor girl's waist and lips running along with hers as her grip tightened at his disheveled hair, his body pressing her forward onto the counter, the both of them making out like there won't be a tomorrow.
"no thanks," you dismiss, managing to reframe from an eyeroll, pushing past hongjoong but not before you catch the smirk on him.
you're only here for one thing, and the fact the place's already starting to become suffocating due to hongjoong's jabs alone, a run-in with san will just be one more reason to leave.
you persist through the smell of cigarettes lingering the hallways, couples making out, and people who's entirely not in their right minds, for the next ten minutes--by the time you realize yunho's still yet to reply, you're already upstairs and so sure he won't be in any of these bedrooms as well.
you love yunho, you really do. your heart full of respect and admiration for him, but something that always bothered you is his bouts of silence.
periodic times where he'd just disappear and wouldn't tell you the reasons why, except some quick assurances about the pointless need to worry about it.
you're sure sooner or later, he will make an appearance and you'll both go through the routine all over again, but it's getting a tad ridiculous having to look for him at his own party.
where exactly would a sophisticated and proper man like yunho who doesn't engage in any of the crazy party shenanigans be at?
not downstairs where mostly everyone is, neither is he in the hallways or any of the rooms upstairs, which leads you to the last option of having to look outside in the late november weather that pierces your skin, making you flinch from the cold breeze.
you're more so agitated by the uncomfortableness, the fit you have on not suited for the season at all because you thought you'd be spending most of the time in the house.
so busy being annoyed and bothered, you don't even comprehend it's the backyard you've found way to with a swingset at the corner, your attention finally pulled from the shivering at the sweet sounding feminine laughter.
nothing could've prepared you for what you're about to see.
your face drops immediately at the sight of yunho, who's able to habitually bring a smile out, but your expression stays cold, watching as the man you dedicated almost your entire life to loving, tuck a strand of hair behind someone else's ear, the giggle from her almost too familiar, you don't even want to believe it.
"yunho?" you let out, his name slipping before you can even register, your voice full of hurt and disbelief.
he shoots to the direction of the call, the lovesick expression turning into all kinds of panic and horror, realizing you've been standing there and probably saw everything.
everything he's been hiding, and things that if you had just given him a bit more time, he would've told you... eventually.
"what the fuck?" you continue, unable to read your own tone if it is said out of pain or anger, but you just know that whatever you're feeling right now is a mixture of both.
and just when you think it can't get any worse, your suspicion of the voice and frame turns out to be right as your sister turns head your direction, and if that's guilt in her eyes, you don't believe it.
she knows about your feelings for yunho, and if there's anything she shouldn't touch or mess with (amongst other things she already did), is getting inbetween you and him. yet, she still did.
still chose to get close to him and do whatever the fuck they just did right now.
it feels like every other instances where you lost to her, whether when your parents would flaunt her or when anyone else would ignore you in favor of her.
you wish to say the loss is new, but the only thing different about it is that it's yunho this time.
"y/n, i--"
"--can explain?" you finish for him, one eyebrow raised and anticipating of what kind of lies he'll come up with on the spot. "because it looks like you ignored me all this time because you were too busy with my own sister."
he opens his mouth to say something, but you already very clearly saw the scene for what it is, now backed against a wall with nothing left but the truth to say.
truth he doesn't get to tell because you're already turning your back on them with an unbelievable sigh, yunho knowing how you are and the tendency you have to avoid your problems. run from them and mask them under the pretense of something else.
you want him to come after you, apologize and show even the smallest of guilt that it was a mistake. choosing your sister was a mistake and something he would never do, especially because he knows how you feel about her.
but he doesn't. the only footsteps out in the night are yours heading back inside, and at the small call of his name by your sister, it breaks your heart how comfortable and perfect it sounds coming from her.
once again, you lost.
you can count on two fingers the crushes you've developed over your lifetime, the count stopping shortly when yunho came along--someone who's too perfect in every way, you wonder how someone else is gonna ever beat him, because it truly feels like you'll never get over him.
you were used to disappointment and regrets, but you've never experienced a heartbreak before. that soul crushing feeling almost like grief, going through all the stages of denial and anger, unfortunately still yet to come to acceptance.
that all this time, yunho is seeing your sister behind your back.
you can't even begin to think of how it happened, or the extents they went to in order to keep it from you.
that yunho of all people, the one person you thought could never hurt you, is the one causing you to go through the most painful betrayal right now.
because he knows you and knows that some of your biggest insecurities has to do with your sister.
after running off with yunho nowhere in the line of sight behind you, you wind up at a nearby bar, attempting to drown your sorrow the only way you knew how... by indulging in old addiction and habits.
though you've quit smoking, alcohol is still something you struggle trying to keep away from, a drink way too easier to give into, lying to yourself that it'd be just a few sips until suddenly, you're hazed in the mind and can barely recall where you're at.
but this time, you don't care how much you're drinking as long as it's numbing the ache in your heart.
the bartender's refusing to give any more given your state--head buried inside your arms as you groan into the bar counter with a few passersby lasering you weird looks from behind.
it's probably not very smart, out alone and mind not in the greatest state in such an environment where you could most likely get taken advantage of, so you stay somewhat alerted for that.
just in case anyone tries anything innapropriate, because you know all the tricks by now.
so when you feel a presence slowly taking up the space next to you, the plop as they sit down on the bar stool, your fight or flight is activated, picking your head up expecting to tell another guy to fuck off, only for your jaw to drop slightly at who it is.
"san?" you question, eyes squinting at the same time because you can't think of any reasons why he of all people is here.
if he saw what happened back there, then he's only here to make fun of you for it. insult you and take jabs because it's what he's best at.
san can't possibly give a shit about you.
"yeah?" he answers as he just stares you down, almost like he takes pity on your situation.
"why the fuck are you here? don't tell me you followed me."
"i followed you because i knew you'd do something stupid like this," he says, taking a $100 dollar bill out of his pocket and shoving it toward the bartender because you most likely haven't paid. "now get up."
his command is met by a series of protests, your other hand quickly trying to release the hold he has on your arm attempting to get your butt off the seat, but you're unfortunately not as stubborn and snappy under the influence, unable to hold your ground against a sober san.
your entire body falls forward immediately when on two feet, san catching you with his arms, pressing you against his chest as a smirk creeps onto the corner of his lips.
he knows where the lack of reaction is coming from, but he still can't help but to be smug, seeing you so powerless and weak when you were usually the opposite, opting for yelling about how you want nothing to do with him the normal.
he guides you by the small of your back, fingers on your bare skin that ignites something in him, and trying to exit the bar against your stubborn feet that won't move due to the sleepy state you've somewhat slipped into along the way.
"give me your car key," he says once at the parking lot, watching as you whine groggily while one of your hands dig at your purse in search for the key, passing it to him and almost dropping it in the process.
everything after that is a blur, more so than what already is, only recalling the bits of san settling you onto the passenger seat.
you wake up with a throbbing headache, able to tell right away it's from the drinks you had last night. but other than that, you can't remember anything.
how you got here and where you're at, the place completely unfamiliar, you don't think you've ever been here before.
"oh, good. you're awake."
but the recognizable voice snaps you to his figure sitting at a desk just right beside the bed and on his laptop. it's then that some recollection starts flooding back, all the overwhelming emotions trying to overtake each other.
hurt, betrayal, confusion, and anger.
yunho and your sister for the first half, and san for the other because you can slightly recall speaking to him at the bar before he did whatever he did.
"where the hell am i?" you ask, sitting up to glare at him and checking the room out once more. you suppose it's quite tidy and nice.
your outfit is the same but just slightly washed out and wrinkly, and if you had a mirror, you can already picture the smeared mascara running under your eyelashes.
"my condo," he replies casually, eyes refusing to move from the laptop.
a quick silence passes before a horrible thought comes over, blurting it out the instant it sinks on you.
"did we--"
but the sheer horror in your voice has san turning so fast just to cut you off with a "no", following by a deep, sarcastic chuckle.
"seriously, y/n. what kind of monster do you think i am?"
well, excuse you for assuming because he's given you every reasons to. every single encounter and run-ins, he never missed the chance to throw stupid innuendos about getting in bed with you.
"whatever," you dismiss, yanking the blanket off and scooting to the edge of the bed, making san raise an eyebrow in return.
"where are you going?"
"leaving," you hiss, at the same time pushing your feet into the heels that are found sprawled all over the floor and stealing a quick glance at the alarm clock on the nightstand that brings out a sigh.
"i'm already late for work and everything seems to be going to shit, so i don't need any of this right now."
san scoffs and you try to not let it bother you, finishing up the last bits of your heels before standing up, so close to leaving the room when he starts talking again.
"a thank you would be nice, you know."
he says it so casually but you know that he's hidden a smirk and satisfaction under all the pretense because he loves it when he has even the smallest of hold over you--whether when he's right or succeeded in convincing you to feel indebted.
"i didn't ask for you to take me home," you reply, arms crossed and turning around, something sharp and meaning to hurt in your delivery.
his attention is no longer on the screen of his laptop and has shifted to you completely, figure walking up to peer down with a look that might intimidate you if this isn't a scene that's already happened one too many times between the both of you.
"if i didn't, something could've happened to you. you were shitface drunk."
you smirk before blowing off the concern with a scoff.
"well maybe i prefer the alternative than to have come home with you."
during university days, all of yours and san's friends were so sure that all the squabbling and jabs at one another was just an outlet to release all the suppressed sexual tension.
though you will admit he's attractive--a fact you've seen him use to his advantage many times, there was simply nothing more to it other than the fact you couldn't stand him and still can't.
"ridiculous," he huffs under his breath, a rare instance of annoyance crossing his expression.
he enjoys bantering with you to some extent, often times intrigued by the outrageous things you'd say because it gets him off in some weird, messed up way.
but it's not fun anymore when you take it too seriously, and especially when he does something genuinely (which he doesn't often) and it still doesn't seem to faze you.
as if you've already built an image of him and refuses to change it no matter the depth he goes to--often times leading to a cycle, because he can get impatient and frustrated.
instead of snarking back, your voice actually drops to a much deliberate tone, the words not wanting to spill because it's still all too painful, but it does.
"if you followed me yesterday, then you most likely already knew what happened at the party and why i ended up at the bar. so if you will just let me leave in peace."
considering you promised your boss to make up for the time yesterday and still haven't even shown almost an hour into the shift, you'll be lucky if he lets you off with a warning.
but it doesn't look like san takes pity on your situation, something shifting in him as he stares at you with a gaze that makes you just slightly nervous.
he clears his throat.
"let me ask you something seriously," he says, taking a step forward that makes you swallow a lump. "did you actually believed that this entire time, yunho wasn't seeing anyone?" he ends it with a head tilt that conjures the lump back.
because you did. the entire time, you really fucking believed he wasn't seeing anyone.
"did you not ever questioned all the times he'd disappear or make excuses? and did you ever stop to think about the improbability that someone of his age never had any interactions with other women?"
the sinking realization is unlike anything you've ever experienced before, and if you thought seeing yunho with your sister back then was awful, this pain can almost kill you.
all this time, you were nothing but foolish and delusional.
san can see both the stages of denial and anger in your face, some tears threatening to get out but you manage to hold them back in. you don't like crying because the last thing you want to be seen as is weak. san knows that.
"if he was fucking other people, then why couldn't he just tell me himself?"
"because he didn't want to hurt you," he unveils, much to your stunned reaction. "he knew you'd lash out and act exactly the way you did when you saw them back at the party."
you can only blink in confusion, like all the information are new and unbelievable. the fact yunho really thought so low of you, one you're not sure how to feel.
but a fact more surprising and intriguing than that, is that the entire time... san knew.
"so you knew about him and my sister and whoever fuck else, but still chose to keep it from me? lie to my face and play along with your brother?"
“you followed me?”
“of course. i heard the conversation at the table. you know, if you’re going to get married off to my brother soon, we might as well get it over with; go into one of these rooms. we might not get the chance ever again. i’ll make it quick, and this will just be between you and me.”
san retracts from the sudden accusation that now all of a sudden, he's become the main culprit. he can't help but to feel some sort of way about it, opting for speaking his mind although it often ends up in destruction.
"it's not like we were ever on good terms and you would've listened to me. but i also don't owe you anything because you never see me in a good light anyways."
he always find himself being hot and cold with you. one second filled with regrets for the terrible things he'd say, then the next, he's spewing some more, and you just so happen to be the only other person just as horrible to say even worse things in return.
"but if i knew your girlfriend was fucking someone else behind your back, i sure would've told you," you spit, eyebrows pinched in the whole time.
"it's not my fault you couldn't get the hint that if yunho actually wanted to ask you out, he would've a long time ago."
san regrets it as soon as he finishes the sentence, but it consumes him completely when the anger on you is no longer but trails of hurt and sadness.
"i--"
"--fuck. you," you cut him off, not sparing another second before you're already out the door.
and if san thinks he saw what looks like a tear, he convinces himself it isn't, because you won't cry in front of him, and you definitely won't cry because of a comment he made.
but he did try to make things right the best he knew how; even then, it's never good enough in your eye.
next // series m.list
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#ateez angst#san x reader#choi san x reader#ateez x reader#ateez series#yunho x reader#fic: sweetestlies
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Coconut Pudding.
Hitoshi Shinsou x Reader slight E2L >:))))))
A/N: Not proofread. I apologise for any incoherent sentences/ incorrect grammar. I hope you enjoy this as much as I did :)
☁︎ Reader and Shinsou meeting through Aizawa. Aizawa offering reader extra training. ☁︎
Shinsou always rubbed you the wrong way- the both of you snarkily taunting the other every breathing moment you were in each other's presence. It was almost like one of you would bite off the other's head the next instant. Aizawa and Yamada were low-key scared you guys would kill each other one day.
Hitoshi Shinsou. That name was enough to have anger surging through your veins. Everything about him ticked you off- his sarcastic remarks, his cold expression, his stupidity. Each sparring session was tense, Shinsou desperate to prove himself to Eraserhead and get into 1A and you fighting to prove yourself, to prove you deserved your spot in 1A. You and Shinsou got to know each other better whether you liked it or not- you were spending most of your free time with him.
The closer you got, the more time you spent in his presence, the more obvious it was- his bitter and cold demeanour was just an exterior. He was a small fluffy hamster at heart. The distance between you and him that felt like oceans between shores closed before you realised it. Closed by lingering touches and lingering gazes during training. Closed by the softness that seeped into the other's gaze when thinking of the next time you'd meet. In conclusion, He made your heart pound and your cheeks heat up.
Just why?
You asked yourself. Shinsou would be a bitter gourd if someone like you was pudding. You poked your tongue out at the thought, slinging your bag over your shoulder as you walked out the diner all alone. There was a chill in the breeze that made people walk faster than usual, wanting to get back to the warmth of their own homes. Couples were walking hand in hand and kids clung to their parents as the buzz of chatter emptied into silence as they walked past.
You thought about how nice it would be if Shinsou was nicer to you for once. How nice it would be if you could spend time alone with him, How nice it would be if he harboured the same feelings as you did for him, How nice it would be if he liked you- How nice it would be if his love was like Coconut Pudding- sweet. Not overly so. Just right. The kind that makes you melt. The kind that feels refreshing. Oh, how you wished he were with you at this very moment.
☀︎
You tucked your hair behind your ear [sorry to bald readers/ readers without ears] while standing up to leave. The school bell rang five minutes ago, the last of your classmates already gone- eager to get home after the hell of what they called a curriculum UA put them through. Sighing, you started packing your bag. You were late for training. Even thinking about how exhausting training would be was enough to bring tears to your eyes. Looking down at the last few books you needed to stuff into your bag, you thought of Shinsou.
You thought about how you could feel the waves of heat coming off him when he stood closer to you as he helped you with algebra. You thought about how his uniform smelled when it was freshly washed. You thought of how the bruised, red knuckles on his hands looked as he grabbed your hands to lead the way when you were being too slow. You thought of the soft monsoon breeze that slightly ruffled his hair, How his purple eyes looked when he was surprised- like when Sensei kicked him in the stomach which led him to be winded and on his knees hunched over for the next ten minutes.
Sharp snaps brought you back from your melancholic state. Annoyed, you looked at the source of the disturbance. "Earth to Y/N." Shinsou said, now snapping his fingers in your face. Swatting his hand away, you rolled your eyes.
"Piss off." You groaned. "You look like Uraraka's quirk sent you floating all the way to Jupiter. Whatcha thinkin' about?" Shinsou said, now leaning on the desk behind him. His arms flexed as he rested his weight on the wood behind him. "None of your business. If you're dying to know, information costs money. I do miss those macarons from the bakery down that street..." Putting a finger on your chin, you pondered exaggeratedly. Shinsou hummed, "You're late to training." "Right." Inhaling sharply, you looked down at your bag, which was still unpacked. "I'm joking, I'm joking. Sensei cancelled training today. Said something about sorting out legal stuff 'bout Eri."
Before you could get another word out, what Shinsou said next had you staring at him like he had not two, not three but twelve heads. "Now what is it with you and your love for exploring space while staring at someone? If you don't fancy the idea, you can just say so." Shinsou stated, his gaze lowering to the floor but his voice as monotonous as ever. You shook your head, wiping that silly lil expression off your face. "Pff, like I'd say no to free macarons." It was Shinsou's turn to ogle at you- "I didn't say I was paying, I asked you if you could give me company at the cafe if you didn't have any plans."
Shaking your head, you put your hands up. "It's a shame, then. I guess I have no choice but to go home," You pouted. Wordlessly picking up your bag and stuffing the remaining books inside, Shinsou pulled the bag from your hands and slung your bag over his shoulder while walking. You smiled at him happily at his compliance and pulled him out the classroom by his elbow.
Ah, if only you hadn't missed the blush on his face as you walked through the door of the classroom.
#shinsou x reader#shinsou hitoshi#hitoshi shinsou#hitoshi#shinsou#bnha#bnha x reader#mha x reader#x reader#hitoshi shinso x reader#hitoshi x reader#shinsou hitoshi x reader
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I think this is the last I have to say about it, certainly not until new episodes air, but the thing about What The Fuck Is Up With That is that it's emblematic of the issues Bells Hells have - and to be honest I suspect always might have - regarding trust. It's a party game. It's a fun way to get surface-level answers. It's an infodump. It's telling not showing. It's not a bad thing, but you don't build trust, actually, by providing every piece of information! In fact, sometimes, it's good to keep your inside thoughts inside! You build trust with other people through your actions: through keeping your word, through proving your ability to do what they expect of you. Perhaps this is a personal experience and not a universal tenet, but people who share everything about themselves right away and people who end up being genuinely reliable and close and trustworthy are often two nearly entirely separate camps.
This also does once again feel like something with an interesting echo within the fandom. Earlier on in the campaign, before the introduction of 4-Sided Dive, I received a lot of questions about whether it would be helpful if we had something like Talks and my response was usually "no, the issue is that I know everything about the backstory and not actually much anyone's motivations; I have a factual list of personal history and I'm looking for a sense of someone's personality." This still comes up occasionally when I talk about Laudna, whose motivations remain hazy much of the time; we have a quite detailed outline of her history but it is missing the only things that actually matter. We know what. We don't know why. Bells Hells knows so much what about each other and they still struggle, even now, with "why".
And when it comes to why, telling people is nice, but it's very easy to lie about motivations. Indeed, that's why Imogen ends up fooled by her mother; she knows what Liliana did but assumed there was a deeper why than there ended up being; that Liliana wasn't simply seduced by the idea that Predathos would free her and Imogen from the burden of their powers but was also working as a force for good within the Vanguard and wouldn't hurt so many people. The revelation that the "why" really was that simple was ultimately why Imogen felt betrayed. Knowing more details about Liliana doesn't help.
Chetney ends up being the illustrative exception here, if that helps. He arrived late to the party. He never played What The Fuck Is Up With That. He even told them what he was there for (looking for Gurge) and lied about the "why" (werewolf reasons) initially. He to this day keeps secrets. But he's open about keeping secrets. That caginess allows him to be one of the party members most people trust on a fundamental level. They don't trust him to be kind, or generous per se; they don't even trust him to not hurt them. But they trust him to not hurt them intentionally, since he's repeatedly shown he will take steps to avoid this. He is cagey and uncooperative during most of the honesty exercise, but when he finally says something, it isn't a judgement - it is an explanation of his own behavior. When he declines to share his deal with Morri, he still reassures them that he did not do anything that would fall to them - and that's honest, and that's what matters, that he made a deal for himself and himself alone. Compare with Orym, who hides even the fact he made the deal, or Ashton a couple days ago, who hid their true plans with the shard. On the surface, Chetney is the one hiding something - but he is honest that he hides things. If Chetney's secret comes out? It won't change the party's understanding of his trustworthiness; it will just change some of the facts. If Orym's comes out or when Ashton's was revealed? That's a huge change in the party's understanding of their motivations.
Honesty in this party has been a game from the start, and as the exercises show, it still mostly is. A panopticon is, unsurprisingly, not a great way to make people trust each other; a little open hiding and actions over words are in order. I don't think that's necessarily a problem, in that I think Bells Hells share, if not a vast overreaching goal, an agreement regarding their pretty significant task. But I think any deeper trust is yet to be actually tested, tried, and forged.
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Gorgeous - steve harrington
chapter 1 of miss americana and the heartbreak prince
summary you are on a break from tour and all of your plans get wrecked by a lovely baseball player.
tags famous!singer!reader and famous!baseball-player!steve. each chapter will have it’s own warnings, none for this one except consumption of alcohol. just pure fluff. i changed the name of the chapter sorryyyyy!!!! no use of y/n
w.c 2.2k
masterlist | series masterlist | next chapter
You’ve reached the half of your tour, and Wednesday’s show was the most energetic. Now you find yourself yearning for some much needed rest during your month-long break. You can already picture yourself making a nest on your bed, doing nothing but sleeping and watching your favorite tv show.
Life takes unexpected turns, it’s Friday now, and one of your friends has invited you to a party. She said it wasn’t a ‘big thing’ but the house was full, the music wasn’t so loud and you wanted to thank the host for it. You miss your bed, and your cats, but it’s also nice to see some of your… friends. Not that you have too many, there’s always a struggle on trusting new people.
You try to relax your shoulders as you make your way to the kitchen to get a drink. On your way, everyone keeps complimenting you about the successful tour you’ve had.
Since you started making music, the growth of your career has been massive. Rich and famous people often prioritize numbers and records, focused on ‘who does it first’ ‘who wins the next award’ and tons of material shit you don’t care about. You wish someone would appreciate your music as you’ve always seen it, art. It’s an extension of you, a way to feel yourself free while being connected with your fans through truthful and poetic lyrics.
The kitchen is empty, only two people hang around kissing and touching each other like they are invisible. Something in your body aches whenever you get to watch someone giving affection to their partner. It’s inevitable, you yearn for that.
Being a successful person does not always mean you get what you want in your personal life. Sure, you’ve had dates with interesting people but no one sticks around to see the true you. Most of the time they only want to hang out with you, have a date or attend an event only to get their five minutes of fame.
Now that you think about it, maybe you don’t have time to settle down with someone and that’s disappointing, you really crave for someone to snuggle with and have a fun loving life. Dance around the kitchen, play around at the beach.
It seems everyone has time for love but you. Everyone does the best, or worst, time on dates while your dates always have paparazzi and people at home watching the pictures, focusing on who you are dating instead of what you do, what you feel, and who you are. It’s more exhausting than performing love songs about fictional people that you’ve created in your head.
You wish your personal life was getting better as your professional life, tour, and travel days are planned, you always get your favorite breakfast, and the love that radiates from the fans makes you glow. It’s a different story when you’re alone in a hotel room, you start to feel like the loneliest person in the world. How can someone perform for 30,000 people and yet feel so alone five hours later?
Being on tour is exhausting, but for a couple of minutes on that stage, you feel powerful. It’s the safest place you have, for now.
You are in desperate need of the strongest drink you can get. So, you reach for a bottle but as you reach for it, a hand is pressed against yours. You gasp at the sudden touch and look up to see who it is.
Famous baseball player Steve Harrington appears from out of nowhere. The touch feels warm, you blush as he looks at you with a grin on his face.
“Soft spot for whiskey? This is my favorite one too” he says, your lips parted as you feel the heat on your face.
Keep. Yourself. Together.
“Uh…” you didn’t even realize it was whiskey, I just grabbed the first thing I could find” you confess, biting your lip as you miss the warmth of his hand.
“You weren’t going to pour this fine whiskey on that red cup, were you?” a chuckle escapes from his lips. He is cocky, he grins like he is the king of the world, and you… you like it.
“I- I just wanted something stronger than this beer” You let the red solo cup on the table focusing on his movements.
“Let me handle this” he makes his way through the kitchen looking for a cup worthy of his favorite liquor. He manages to get one, it’s not the same one he hand-picked since the party started but he believes it’ll do the job. He adds a couple of ice cubes and pours the whiskey, just the right amount.
As he hands you the cup, your fingers briefly touch, sending shivers down your spine. You don’t know what’s got you so nervous, please, you are the queen of the world right now.
“Thank you,” you say, taking a sip of the drink. As the liquor travels through your throat, you can feel it burn. It’s a feeling that leaves you pleased, this is exactly what you were looking for. “Wow, it’s delicious”
“I know, the best whiskey in this state,” he says. “I’m Steve Harrington, by the way,” he gets closer to you, his hand reaching out for yours.
You shake his hand, your cheeks feel hotter than ever. “Nice to meet you, I’m-”
“I know who you are,” he whispers, winking with a grin. Letting go of your hand he finishes his drink in a sip. He wipes the corner of his mouth and grabs the bottle of whiskey. “It’s too loud in here, do you want to join me in the backyard?" The house fills with voices as someone else arrives and everyone goes to the front porch to greet them.
“Sure” you nod, now holding your drink between your hands. You follow him to the backyard, small and shy steps– far from your usual confident self.
“Here, I grabbed this blanket earlier. You can sit with me” He offers you a spot on a blanket, sitting down and getting comfortable.
You take another sip of your drink, feeling the whiskey fade the nerves away. “It looks like you had this planned out” You leave your cup on the grass, letting the ice melt a while, to make it less strong.
He laughs, looking at the stars in the sky. You get lost on his features. The way his nose is perfectly shaped, his eyelashes are long, the little freckles on his face lit up by the yellow little lights in the backyard. “I wanted some space. I have a game on Sunday and I got dragged to this party… I tend to just find a place for myself. It looks like you needed a break too”
You notice how his nose scrunches up when he mentions his game. You bet he didn't know that you were aware of his existence, but you did. It was impossible to dismiss him, he has been one of the biggest and most famous players since the season started. Your dad and your friends talk about him. On tour, some people on your team watch his games before the show since the games are early. His face covers some of the biggest places in the cities you visited on tour.
“Is it a big game?” you curse yourself, of course it is. But you know nothing about baseball so he lets it pass. He looks at you with a sympathetic smile.
“It is, the team we are going up against is one of the best. I don’t tend to talk about it days before or I will get nervous” he confesses, leaning his head to one side and looking at you like you are the most beautiful jewel in the world.
“I don’t believe you” you laugh, shaking your head.
“What?”
“You, getting nervous. Your team has won over and over because of you, people on my tour team always brag about how you are the best”
Steve blushes at your words. He is fucking blushing and lets out a nervous but cute laugh.
“Don’t tell me you don’t get nervous after a show” his cocky grin comes back, you reach quickly for your cup to take a sip.
“I don’t,” you say.
He leans back, eyes wide. His lips parted in surprise.
“You don’t? How?” he asks.
“I do the same every night. It’s all choreographed, the one who is always nervous is my tour manager. But me. I don’t know” You let your head fall to look at the cup, and you shake it slowly so the ice cubes make a sparkly sound. “When I get on stage my heart just fills with warmth and I know there are people who are having the best time just because of me”
“That sounds very romantic” he searches for your face, and you look at him.
“It’s the closest I will ever get to romance” you sigh, feeling a sense of shared understanding.
“Hey, cheers to that!” he says.
“Cheers!”
You clink your glasses together. The night slips away, accompanied by Steve, whiskey, and sharing stories.
He is sweet, he has a true passion for his job, loves his career, and his team. You didn’t like to talk about work, but what else would you talk about? Work consumes both of you, it's easy to realize that. He is in every poster, you are in every magazine. Social media is filled with pictures of you, good news, bad news, fake news.
“It’s comforting to know someone is as married to their job as I am,” he says, his words slurred from the whiskey.
“I don't like to call it a work, it’s more like…” you begin.
“A dream come true,” he finishes for you.
“A dream come true, yes” You agree, feeling your head already spinning, the bridge of your nose hurting and your back giving up after sitting on the grass.
“Can I just tell you.. You are not what people say you are, well, not entirely” he says suddenly, whiskey doesn’t make Steve confident, it makes him dumb.
“What do you mean?” you worry, your body tensing in anticipation. You’ve read all of the nasty things people have said about you, but it only hurts when it comes from someone you like or care about. Was he about to say something mean?
Steve could never say something hurtful. He respects people so he can be respected in return. He’s experienced the harshness of the media as well, he has somewhat of a bad reputation.
“You are an icon. But right now, you are just… you” he shrugs. “You look so unreal in those magazines and right now you look like a fire in a cold winter” he gets closer to you, and the gap between you disappears. “I mean, you are not just a record breaker, you radiate an energy that makes me... too comfortable for my liking”
“Are you…”
“I am serious,” he says, looking at your face, admiring all of your features. He knows you are cute, perfect, and talented. But now he realizes you are also sweet, you have a warm personality and a calm that surrounds you everywhere you go. “Talking to you made me forget everyone in the world knows my name, it’s like you are the only one who knows me”
“Like we know each other's little secrets?” you ask, reciprocating his feelings. Talking to him also made you forget about the millions of people who are listening to your music every night. That your face is on every little girls’ bedroom wall.
“Like we are each other’s secret” he whispers, so close his liquory breath tingles against your lips. “Can I kiss you?”
“Please” you whisper too, your entire body is burning. What you said earlier wasn’t a lie, you don’t experience romance very often.
“So cute and polite” he rests two of his fingers on your chin to bring you closer. Steve gently presses his lips to yours, moving them softly as you catch up with his movements.
The kiss is slow, but your heart is beating faster than ever. You only get this feeling when you are on stage, he only gets this feeling when he wins.
His thumb slides to your neck as his fingers rest in your cheek. Your face is between his hands, and you could swear you see stars, a glowing pink aura surrounding the two of you. This feels too good to be true.
When air is needed, both of you separate from each other. You touch his arm to keep him closer as he looks at your face, lips puffy from kissing.
“Guys! Pizza is here” someone inside the house screams, the scent of greasy food making its way to you.
“I don’t know about you but I'm really hungry,” he says, getting up and offering you a hand to help you get up.
“Me too” Your cheeks are still pink, he notices and almost falls on his knees at how adorable you look. You take his hand and get up, your chest bumps against his.
“There is one thing everyone says and it's that you are beautiful” he looks at you with his pretty brown eyes.
“Do you agree?” you ask.
“You are fucking gorgeous”
You laugh, getting on your tippy toes to leave a kiss on his cheek.
“We are each other’s little secret, remember?”
You nod in agreement, understanding the secret bond you now share. Steve smiles and drops your hand, disappearing into the house. You let out a big sigh, you are so going to make a song about this, but for now, it’s a secret you’ll keep locked away from the world.
I hope you like this series, feedback is appreciated! don't forget to REBLOG TO SUPPORT THE AUTHOR! . ♡
DISCLAIMER. you already know who inspired this, I want to clarify i mean no harm for the people in real life and what happens in this is just inspired by them, it's not based on true events. comment to be part of the tag list!
#꒰ leia writes ⊹ ㅤ꒱#baseball!steve harrington#leia’s MA&THBP#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington au#steve harrington x female!reader#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington x y/n smut#steve harrington x y/n fluff#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x fem#singer!reader#steve harrington x female reader smut#꒰ leia's steve ⊹ ㅤ꒱
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Do you know anything (or maybe have some headcanons) about Rohan’s wedding traditions? How do they propose to be married? What kind of wedding outfits do they have? Do they marry for life, or does divorce exist? Thank you so much! I so love reading all your musings about Rohan!
Thanks for this question, and for being so nice! I love to talk Rohan, so I appreciate the chance! ❤️
I’ve actually never written a Rohirrim wedding and there really isn’t anything to go on from the books/lore, either, so I don’t have a fully developed idea of what that would look like.
Off the cuff, I’d say weddings in Rohan probably vary a lot depending on the wealth, status, location, etc. of the couple. Rich people will obviously have a much bigger, more elaborate wedding, maybe with multiple days of feasting and revelry, while a poor couple has a simple ceremony and a little party. Someone from the far western borders might have different traditions, perhaps with some Dunlendish influence as they were direct neighbors and sometimes intermarried, versus someone in the Wold, which is all the way east, extremely rural and sparsely populated. There’s no official religion of Rohan or anything that might have imposed uniformity on all their rituals, so variety is the name of the game. But there would be some common cultural elements, like toasting and poems and songs, etc. All that ceremonial stuff is in the category of things I definitely need to think more about, though I’m also always interested in other people’s thoughts and ideas, too!
For proposals, I think it was a tradition for most of Rohan’s history (something they picked up from the Gondorians) for royalty and nobles to be guided into negotiated marriages that were considered strategically advantageous. (Marrying for love is one of the few privileges of the poor! They could just find someone they liked, decide between themselves that they wanted to marry and then move forward.) Arranged marriage is something I have addressed in my stories. I’ve written about Elfhild growing to love Théoden deeply over time but still always regretting a little that she didn’t get to choose him. Also, my Théodred HATED the idea of being forced into a marriage and held out against it, which is why he was still unmarried into his 40’s. He didn’t live to see that officially change (*sob*), but I think it did. Éomer makes it clear in ROTK that Éowyn consented to Faramir’s proposal — “she grants it full willing” — and if he had learned that personal autonomy was important for her, I think he’d want to give the same autonomy to himself, his children and others in the future.
As for divorce, there’s no evidence for it in canon (and I am CERTAIN that Tolkien would hate it) but I’m a big believer that divorce is one of the most important tools for the protection of women’s interests to ever exist. So I want it in Rohan! I have a tiny piece of a draft somewhere of Éomer’s wife (who is not Lothíriel in my fics, but a daughter of Elfhelm) being left to rule alone while Éomer is away on business in Gondor, and she essentially invents divorce while he’s gone by granting the plea of several women for the dissolution of their marriages to drunken jerks. Even though the husbands complain bitterly to Éomer when he returns, Éomer has learned some stuff through the years and backs his wife’s move. I’m not sure if that little idea will ever make it into a posted story, but it exists not just in my head but on my google drive!
Thanks again for being so kind! And if you or anyone else have creative Rohirrim wedding/marriage ideas, please always feel free to share them with me!
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Hey I don't know if requests are okay or not but I have a request,baby Aether and dada Diluc hcs, again I don't know if requests are open for not if not then so sorry
Regressor Aether + cg Diluc Headcanons
Request are most certainly open! (as long as the inbox buttons says “requests” feel free to send me some :D same goes for any thoughts or ideas that you have. I tend to answer those a bit quicker just as an fyi)
Onto to talking about my favorite characters!!!
~~~
~Aether who’s a first like “I don’t regress that small” and normally he doesn’t when he’s with his sister.
~Only he didn’t take in account how stressed he’s been since coming to tevyat and how nice it is to finally be looked after by someone.
~First time Diluc takes care of him: Instantly baby space
~Aether has so many stuffed animals all in an attempt to keep the regressor from carrying Paimon around like one
~If he’s not being carried Aether will simply follow around Diluc like a baby duckling. Something that was definitely pointed out to the two of them when they went out to the city
~Diluc absolutely puts his foot down to Aether taking on commissions when he’s regressed.
~I like to think that in Mondstadt it isn’t uncommon to have people regress in public and when out a couple of times people have come up asking a favor of Aether who is clearly regressed and Diluc just loses it a little. Because really, can’t people solves their own petty issues?
~Diluc trying to teach the little one boundaries and learning how to say no. Simple things like choosing what to have to eat or what activities he wants to do. Because Aether really will go along with anything, and while adorable as it is his caregiver is aware of just how much Aether says yes to on more serious matters that wear aware at his health.
~Aether comes back from Liuye with a makeup pallet the consequences of which lead to Diluc going to work with red eyeshadow and sparkly eyeliner because he promised the little one he wouldn’t take it off for the rest of the day (He totally drags Kaeya into being Aether’s next ‘victim’ when his brother kept teasing him)
~ Aether working himself up into a near panic attack once because he wants to ask Diluc to be his caregiver because sure he hangs around Diluc small but it’s not like the man is his ‘official’ caregiver or anything. He is so scared of rejection. Which he would understand why Diluc would say no, because obviously he's hardly ever in Mondstadt, and the few times he is doesn't mean that Diluc would want to deal with a mentally two year old, let alone see him at all, and he realizes he is a lot to handle and his regression isn't always pretty and...(insert Aether spiraling for the next however long)
~Diluc meanwhile who just, already assumed he was Aether's caregiver. Just kind of took upon the role without asking. Like, he watches over the boy whenever he's around, has a box filled with toys and custom made pacifiers. Does... does that not count or...?
#mayliz rambles#genshin impact agere#agere headcanons#fandom agere#age regression#sfw agere#age regression headcanons#genshin agere#age regressor#fictional caregiver#wow okay I didn’t realize how long this post was#i just love them a lot
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hey! you! yes you! i LOVE pjsk ocs! please tell me about your unit!
hi hello thank you omg,,, first interaction ever and ur asking abt my lil guys,,,,, waow
SO!!!! the band's name is neon's ✧ glimmer and it's made up of four first years at miyajo (the girl's academy) :D most of their written lore is under their tag, and a couple shitposts are under the shortened tag "n✧g". i don't think the Original original lore post is under their tag (plus it was super confusing anyways) so i'll just summarize it here!!
basically, the story kicks off because Misaki Kaneko moves to the area and transfers to Miyajo. she bonds with one of her classmates, Maho Sasaki, over their love of music. the two of them decide to start a band, but they don't really have the skills to just be a duo so they basically plaster posters all over the school about wanting a drummer and a vocalist.
meanwhile, the actual leader of this group, Chika Fujiwara, has been doing covers online for more than a year now. her dream was always to be in a band, but it never worked out because people didn't like her/thought she was weird/etc, so now she's a solo act. her sister, Haruka Fujiwara, has been trying to get her back into the band scene, and when Haruka sees the flyers that Misaki and Maho have put up she thinks it's the best opportunity her and Chika are ever going to get. so she starts getting gradually closer with the pair of them, gently prying about what kind of drummer and vocalist they'd want, but never actually offering to audition.
through a sort of long and complicated series of events that im cutting from this summary for the sake of time, Chika is convinced to audition for the vocalist and she does so virtually, so Misaki and Maho don't know it's her (that girl in their class who's cold and doesn't have any friends). Maho and Misaki listen to the audition and decide they HAVE to have her, and Haruka auditions for drummer on the spot (she's with them because she's the one who put Chika's audition on their computer. but they don't know that lol.) and she also gets the part! now they have a full band yippee! just one problem; they have no clue who their singer is.
Chika arranges to meet them in front of Miyajo, and when they arrive, she reveals her identity to them and launches into a speech abt how she was really scared to do this but she trusts them and she can't wait to work with them-
-and Maho completely shuts her down. Maho places a lot of emphasis on community, and in her eyes, Chika doesn't have any. which must mean she's untrustworthy and did something to drive that community away. she rips Chika apart, and Chika runs away, not knowing what else to do.
Haruka (who Misaki and Maho did not know was affiliated with Chika in any way at all) is understandably really angry because she thought she could trust these people. she thought this was the best opportunity she'd ever find and it got so far just for Maho to crush it by being an asshole. she throws her drumsticks at Maho and quits the band on the spot.
Misaki doesn't quit the band, but she firmly refuses to take Maho's side and leaves her all alone in the school field with some harsh words.
i'll be honest i'm not super clear on how the band gets back together but they Do and that's the end of the main story HAGSHDGDHDH sorry this part is still in development. anyways i hope you liked this lil summary!! you can ask me to go more in depth about any specific part and i will :3 honestly just feel free to send any followup asks lol i love interactions with my ocs and also i think u are super cool for asking me about them even tho we have literally never talked before. im giving u a cupcake and a nice cup of tea. anyways thank u for the ask!!! remember to stay hydrated :D
#marin rambles#neon's ✧ glimmer#askbox on mars!#wowowowow lore that makes sense for the first time ever
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Lucid Dreams- Bucky Barnes x Autistic!Enchanced!Reader (Part 02)
Part 01
Bucky sat on the stairs of his apartment building waiting for Sam. He had spent the whole night formulating an apology to his friend. It was more difficult than expected, especially since his brain kept going back to the memory of the dream he had.
Floating free through space, able to manipulate the heavens, being free from his nightmares and struggles. And that girl he saw. She was so beautiful. His heart fluttered like a lovesick schoolboy, he hadn’t felt like this in years. It felt nice. He wondered if he would see her again tonight?
“Thought you wanted to be left alone?” Sam spoke up, snapping Bucky from his thoughts.. He took a breath, Sam did try his patience but he was the only friend he had left. “Sam listen, I know what I said and, I’m sorry. I hadn’t had any sleep in weeks and I was frustrated. I know you wanted to help and in all honesty, you're more helpful than that fucking therapist.” Bucky expected Sam to say it wasn’t enough and walk off. But instead the new Cap patted his shoulder and smiled, “S’alright man, I know it can be tough. Had the same problems myself.” Bucky smiled, relieved he didn’t screw up. “Hey I’m supposed to meet Torres at a diner a couple blocks from here, wanna come?” Sam asked. Bucky nodded, “Yeah, sure.” The two walked and talked the whole way, when they passed a small coffee shop Bucky didn’t notice the pair of (y/e/c) staring at him through the window.
Image not mine
“He looks so much happier now.” She said quietly. The music playing through her earbuds shut out the overwhelming noise of people and espresso makers.”(Y/n)! Get those coffee beans roasted!” Her boss yelled. Thank god for the earbuds. “Don’t worry sir, I already roasted them. I’m just refilling the jars.” Her boss looked at her in surprise, “Oh. Well, good.” He left, leaving her to revel in her work. (Y/n) did most of the hard work at the little coffee shop called, “Zen Brew.” She mostly cleaned, refilled, and roasted. Sometimes she’d have to man the counter when her space-brained coworker came up with some lame excuse not to come into work. She liked the repetitiveness of her job. Course the noise was the only problem, if it hadn’t been for her earbuds or the wax earplugs she kept in her pocket she probably wouldn’t have been able to get the job. But she’d never tell anyone that, no they wouldn’t understand. Most people didn’t understand her love for simplicity. It was their loss.
She saw Bucky everyday, he’d walk past the coffee shop everyday at 10:38 in the morning. Like clockwork. But he always looked so sad, like a lost puppy. She could always tell when someone suffered from nightmares, it was a part of her….gift. And Bucky was suffering more than she’d ever seen. She wanted to help him. (Y/n) purposely bumped into him the other day so that she could leave her essence on him and bring him into the dream realm. And his dream was magnificent, she had seen the dreams of many people before. But Bucky’s was boundless. It was what she loved about her gift, to see the true potential and inner most desires of those she helped. It was rare for (Y/n) to help someone more than once and yet she wanted to with Bucky. Tonight she’d see him again.
“Wait wait! Let me see if I got this. Some chick on the street touches you once and you have this wild crazy ass dream and she’s there IN the dream?” Sam asked. Bucky had told him everything about that night. With all that they’ve faced in the past this wasn’t the strangest or weirdest for that matter. However Bucky did want an outsiders opinion. “No offense Buck, that's pretty freaky.” Sam stated. Indeed it was, Bucky wondered if she was enhanced like Wanda. If only she was here. “I know but it was like she was in control, like a Goddess or something.” Maybe Thor would have an idea. “Think she might be a threat?” Sam asked but Bucky shook his head at the idea. “No, I don't think so. It was like she gave me that dream, like she wanted to help?” Bucky’s heartbeast increased as he remembered her sweet smile, the glow of emotion in her bright eyes, her soft angelic voice. Sam noticed his far off look and smirked, “Got a thing for her lover boy?” Torres snorted a laugh as did Sam. Bucky rolled his eyes at their immaturity. What he didn’t tell them was that he was hoping to see her again that night.
And he couldn’t wait.
That night, for the first time in a long time he was excited to sleep. He hoped to be swept back into that endless horizon, free floating amongst the stars and heavens. And to see her again. He laid down and waited for sleep to embrace him. But it couldn’t happen soon enough, he was too excited like a kid laying awake for Christmas morning.
Then, he suddenly felt something warm against his chest. Bucky looked down and saw that same handprint from before, glowing a heavenly deep blue. His eyes felt heavy, tired. Like something had flipped a switch in his brain. It was strange, he felt as if something or someone was holding him. Warm and safe, she was calling him. And he didn’t want to keep her waiting.
Opening his eyes he saw stars. He was weightless. He was back. Bucky looked around to find her again. He heard no music. With his thoughts he moved through the darkness keeping an eye out for her. He didn’t have to look for too long.
A cute sounding laugh reached his ears. He looked and saw her staring at him with a smile. He felt all giddy inside as he moved towards her.
“You!”
“Me.”
He slowed to stop in front of her. “I was hoping to see you again.” He said. She tilted her head, “Really?” Those eyes, god those eyes. The softness, the emotion behind them made him forget how to speak. “I-I wanted t-to thank you for the other night. For bringing me here.” But then she let out the most adorable giggle he ever heard. “Bucky, you made this all yourself. All I did was connect you to the dream realm.”
“Dream realm?” Sounded like something out of a fairytale or a wild fantasy movie.
“Yes, it is a realm not bound by time and space. A realm where the fabric of reality twists and bends. You are having what’s known as a lucid dream. You know you’re dreaming and you have full control.”
He was shocked. This was all his doing? He made this? “I created this?” He asked. She nodded, “That’s right. In the Dream Realm you can create anything, do anything. Go wherever or whenever you want. Give it a try, just think of a place you want to go and the Dream Realm will reform to be whatever you wish.” When she finished speaking Bucky only stared blankly at her. She thought she went too far, “Sorry I didn’t mean to ramble like that.” She wrung her hands together out of habit when she was nervous. She usually kept a lid on her rambling but when she was happy, she couldn’t help it.
Bucky however, only smiled. Seeing her eyes light up like that and that cute blush on her cheeks. His heart was one step away from flying off. “Sounds like you know this place like the back of your hand. Like a Goddess of Dreams.” Her blush deepend with a nervous smile. “I'm n-no goddess.” She stuttered. “Could’ve fooled me.” Bucky charmed. She gave him a sweet soft smile.
“I-I’m (Y/n)”
(Y/n). Such a beautiful name, Bucky thought. “James. But everyone calls me Bucky.” They stared at each other for a moment before he thought to try what she recommended, “So all I have to do is think where I want to be and it’ll happen?”
“Do you have anywhere special in mind?”
He did. A place he wanted to see again someday. He closed his eyes and thought deeply. A faint breeze blew across his face and he felt himself slowly lowered to the ground onto warm grass. When he opened his eyes, Bucky was greeted by the peaceful sight of a Wakandan sunset. A sight he hadn’t seen since his recovery from HYDRA’s brainwashing. The African landscape was as beautiful as he remembered it. And yet with (Y/n) next to him, it didn’t hold a candle to her.
“Absolutely beautiful.” She whispered as she looked over the horizon to the low sun.
They both stood and watched the landscape for who knows how long until she broke the silence. “Bucky, it’s time.” She could feel the morning approach. Bucky wanted more time with her so he jumped into the deep end. “Can I see you again tomorrow night?” He was afraid she’d say no. Instead she smiled, “You may.” She reached out and cupped his cheek. His eyes closed at the contact. She kissed his forehead and once again whispered,
“Time to wake up.”
He felt that warm and bright light envelope him again, sending him back to the real world.
The morning rays greeted him. He lay in that nest of blankets smiling with joy that he’d see her again.
Bucky Barnes was in love.
#bucky barnes#bucky x reader#james bucky barnes#bucky fanfic#bucky barnes x autistic female reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes imagine#bucky x reader fluff
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angsty Tommy backstory part 3
Part 1 | Part 2
And Tommy was careful.
He kept his new — albeit foolish and dangerous — budding relationship with Jay safe with the walls of their two apartments. He kept his guard up and head down at work; did what he could to blend in with his coworkers… even if that meant turning the frequent blind eye, and even engaging in the behavior to uphold the ruse he was one of them.
He hated it. He began hating himself. He felt like a fraud. But at least he had Jay to come home to, and he would hold and kiss away his worries… at least for a little while.
“Let’s go out tonight,” Jay says after a particularly tough shift. Tommy had been filling him in throughout the day about how bad it was going, and Jay had been waiting at Tommy’s place to help make him forget it. They had both just floated back down to reality when Jay suggested going out.
“Out?” Tommy asks.
“Yes, babe… Out. You know, that thing couples do.”
Tommy felt his insides twitch. “We- we’re a couple?”
“I’d sure hope so,” Jay says. “If not this is the most domesticated friends with benefits I’ve ever been a part of.” And the way the jealousy flares up in Tommy, thinking about Jay sleeping around with other people, confirms that this is definitely something more for him too. “Come on, you have the next two days off… we can go as far away as you need to feel comfortable.”
Tommy thinks about it. It’s risky, and he is supposed to be being careful. But maybe they can go up to his mom’s in NorCal. She knows about him, and she knows about Jay, and it would be nice to not feel like he’s living a double life… at least for a couple days. He lifts his head off Jay’s chest and smiles, “Okay.”
They cleaned up and began packing some bags; the fact Jay had enough of his things at Tommy’s only confirmed further they were really becoming serious. Tommy tried to ignore the annoyed sighs Jay gave when he scanned the surrounding areas for any onlookers before loading their bags into his Jay’s car. Then they climbed in and were off.
The trip was much needed. It was always nice to see his mom, but what was really nice was how freeing it felt to be out with Jay without feeling like he needed to constantly check over shoulder. “He’s seems nice,” his mom whispers. Tommy was standing at the back door staring into the yard at Jay who had apparently drifted off to sleep in his mom’s hammock.
“Yeah,” Tommy says and dips his head bashfully. “He is.”
“Is he good to you?” Tommy nods. “Are you happy?” Tommy… stalls. His mom’s eyes go soft, she hooks her arm around his and doesn’t press the question.
But Tommy is happy. He loves his job — he hates most of the coworkers, but he gets to help people and save lives and that has always been his calling. He has a nice apartment, and a fixer upper truck he loves working on. And he has Jay. And they are happy, right?
His answer comes when the little vacation ends. Tommy drives them back, and Jay is silent the whole way. They unload the car, and the silence has been so deafening he doesn’t even think to check for people watching as he opens the door for Jay, or when he sends him on up to the apartment and gets the bags alone. “Are you okay?” He finally asks mid unpacking.
“How long is it gonna be like this, Tommy…”
“Be like what?��
“This. How long are we gonna have to hide for your boss, and your coworkers… how long are we gonna only get to be together behind a closed door.”
Tommy swallows. He doesn’t know what to say, because he doesn’t have an answer to that. If he were being completely honest… he might have even said forever. He knows that’s not fair. “It— it won’t be like this forever,” he says.
Jay hums, bitterly. “I had hoped you would see how nice it is to not go around lying about who you are.”
“I’m not lying about who I am!”
“Oh? Then what do you call this?!” Jay all but screams, and it’s loud enough to make Tommy flinch and wonder is the neighbors heard.
“I don’t understand why I need to share my personal life with work,” Tommy tries, he knows it’s a pathetic excuse… he just doesn’t want to fight.
“Because you’re a big tough macho guy, Tommy… in a field where that’s kind of the requirement. But you’re also gay. And we both know small minded people don’t think those two things can coexist.”
“So you see why I don’t want to bring it up to any of them,” Tommy scoffs.
Jay sighs. “I know it’s scary, but maybe you can show them—”
“They won’t care, Jay. It not— they’re not— It won’t work.”
“I can’t keep living like this Tommy…” Jay says softly. Tommy stares at him. He wants to plead with him to drop this and just go back to before. When it felt like he had his cake and was getting to eat it too. When he was living a double life but he was enjoying both sides so it didn’t matter.
He knows that’s not fair.
“I— I’ll try.”
And he does, or well… he means to.
He had it all planned out. He would go to work and the day would be how it always is, and when someone asks him what his plans are when he gets home… he would say Oh I’m just gonna go cuddle up on the couch with my boyfriend and probably watch Love, Actually. And they would understand and leave it at that…
At least that’s how it worked out in his head. In reality when he walked into the station he was met with Gerrard, glowering at him from above; and Tommy just knew Gerrard knew about Jay.
Part Four
#911 drabble#bucktommy#well pre bucktommy#tommy kinard#tommy begins#I keep telling myself this will be the last part then it gets too long but I think the next one is definitely the last one
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Meet Snowflake!
[E.L.A oc's go brrrr-..]
[I haven't introduced her yet so- I'm doing it now. This is her official design because I wasn't sure about the old one-]
Basic information:
Snowflake is Albedo's adopted daughter, who apparently can control winter. But she can't control her ice power very well, which results in little accidents to happen often. Hope is training her.
She's 18 years old, a month younger than Lux, 5'6 ft tall and enjoys reading Marvel comics.
Snow is a menace to society/aff
She is Lux's non-blood related long lost twin/j/nsrs
Snowflake is a descendant of Quetzalcoatl, the deity of war. Corr.Nightmare tried to kill her once he found out about her existence. The girl fought back as best she could but was quickly overpowered. Luckily she was saved from "an mysterious winged lady".
Now Snowflake is striving to control her power better and learn more about her ancestor.
(Fun fact: Her real name is Estelle. Snowflake is just a nickname.)
Origins:
It's unknown who her parents are or where they are. But Snow never bothered to find that out.
"They abandoned me, whoever they are. Valid reason or not, I'm better off without them right? I'm sure they must've thought the same. My life is fine as it is, I already have an amazing adoptive father."
Snowflake is actually a part of Quetzalcoatl's soul, his will. All those years ago when he died, a part of him refused to give up. He refused to succumb to the fatal wounds. He refused to let his kingdom fall in the hands of his enemy.
So that strong determination caused a part of his soul to separate from it's owner. It reincarnated as different people over the years, while Quetzalcoatl wandered the earth as a spirit.
Now, Snowflake is the current reincarnation.
Only when Corr.Nightmare gets killed and the kingdom is free, Quetzalcoatl will finally rest and his will shall return to him.
Abilities:
-Summoning weapons made out of ice.
-Manipulating the weather.
-Control over ice in general.
-Can survive just fine in extremely cold temperatures.
-Can sense and distinguish people's different auras, including the dead's. (But she can't see the dead, which makes it difficult to guess who it is. She can find out from the aura alone if the spirit is a threat or not.)
-Can create snow giants and creatures.
[Will be updated.]
Her opinion on the people she knows:
-Albedo.
"We met when I tried to run away from the orphanage. Then as I went further and further away, I bumped into him. He asked me why was I crying, and he comforted me. He took me back to the orphanage and on the way we were talking and getting along. When we arrived, he told the caretaker he wanted to adopt me. Much to my own surprise. Now here we are. He's actually a very supportive dad, the kind of dad everyone would want, to be honest. No matter what, he always thinks about me first. He comforted me when I cried, defended me on arguments, never turned a blind eye on me, and even gives great advice. He is the reason I'm happy."
-Cross.
"That baker my dad likes so much. His pastries are awesome! He's a nice guy, really. I genuinely think him and Albedo would make a good couple, I mean- Have you seen the way they look at eachother?? They NEED to get together already, I swear to god-"
-Dream.
"I love and respect uncle, but- Someone needs to teach him how to be less oblivious of your surroundings. He's blind when it comes to love, and I can tell he would be an easy target to manipulate..- I noticed he looks down sometimes, maybe because of his marriage?"
-Ink.
"The second most beautiful woman? Her? Are you kidding me? Ink is nice and all but not only does her sense in fashion suck, she's also kinda dumb. I'm just being honest! She's a mother, a grown ass woman, yet she's almost never by her husband's or kids' side, or anywhere near the castle. I swear I saw her in a bar drinking once. No, twice. That second time there was a strange man with her. I just kept walking to avoid being seen by her."
-Palette.
"We only really meet when uncle Dream invites me and dad over. Sometimes we talk. Lux told me he used to bully her and frame her for things she didn't do when they were younger. Even now, he's doing some pretty bad stuff. But he looks..Well. Miserable. I almost feel bad for him sometimes. Maybe he is getting his stress out on her? Anywho I can only suggest one thing for him: Therapy. And I will drag him there by the feet if I have to."
-Lux.
"We're complete polar opposites, and still get along just fine. I can't help but see her like a sister I never had. She's got everything! Is a princess, does nice things, is rich and lucky in lottery, has amazing dresses, has a handsome fiancée, is famous and all, and she's very pretty! Like, damn!- I think she really deserves all those. I'm glad she's not like those corrupt rich people, she actually donates to charities and orphanages. I look up to her a lot. In fact, I want to be like her."
-Hope.
"Miss Hope is the one training me and Lux's fiancée. They are so skilled..! It's hard to keep up with them sometimes during sparring. They've beat me countless times.. But I won't give up there! No way in hell. This is to get revenge on that bastard for nearly murdering me.."
-Merciless.
"Him and Lux seem perfect, to be honest. We get along very well. I've read almost all the books he wrote. He's like an older brother to me. Apparently, he wants to be a wizard. He's trying to make fire, like Miss Hope. Though..once I accidentally froze him- I don't understand how it happened, I was just patting his shoulder and then BAM! Thank god we had Miss Hope and their fire. I apologized so much that day..I'm still embarrassed."
-Angst.
"..I've heard about that guy. Isn't that the one that can see spirits? I think he could help me, something with a powerful aura has been following me around for days on end and I need answers."
-Artemis.
"She's that famous singer, and Merciless' little sister. Not gonna lie, she makes amazing music..I listen to it all the time. Some of her songs are calming and perfect for reading. She's also Palette's best friend. I think these two are in love, even their fans are making rumors about them being together-"
-Goth.
"She used to make fun of me and bother me at every chance she got. Along with that group of fans- Until..well, I snapped one day. I caused a snow storm, since I felt overwhelmed. It blew everyone away but her. I think I shoved her away after that, but then realized I didn't die. At first I thought 'Maybe it's my power', until I found out from Idiotka that a grim reaper's soulmate doesn't die from their touch. ..Nothing is confirmed yet. Because apparently Lux and Palette didn't die from Goth's touch either. This situation is very confusing. Anyways, we became friends in hopes of finding out. All we do is hang out and gossip about every single thing we can think of. It's actually nice being around Idiotka.."
-Corr.Nightmare/Alphonse.
"Can you believe Artemis speaks good about a moron like that? He clearly didn't think twice before deciding to attempt murdering a little girl, so why should I feel sympathy for a tyrant? I still remember his face... ... He scares me. What if I fail to kill him?"
-Killer.
"I don't believe she chose to marry him on her own will. What kind of psycho would?? I feel bad for her. She's very pretty too."
-Crescent.
"Isn't that the priest in that one church..? I dunno, I'm not religious. So I don't visit churches at all. But his face reminds me so much of that bastard.."
-Quetzalcoatl.
"My ancestor! I'm gonna call him grandpa, it's easier. Man, I wish I could meet him.. Idiotka took me to this secret library and I've been studying about his history. I have to say, I admire him even more now. As I read all those history books, I pictured the sceneries of the old kingdom in my head. For some reason, everything described there feels so familiar.."
Fun facts:
-She's allergic to chocolate, so she is always eating fruit pastries or vanilla. She found that out when she once tried chocolate cake in Cross' café.
-Snowflake is a fan of horror games and movies, even playing with Goth sometimes.
-She never really had real friends until she met Goth. Snow only had a small group of online friends.
-Albedo's nickname for her is "Tuna", which Snow is always complaining about.
-Snowflake always wondered about the identity of the winged woman who saved her that day. She wishes to thank her.
-She has a true/guardian form <3
-She is the key to Surprise Ending in Sunflower AU.
[If she interacts with Angst and Angst decides to tell her about the timelines, the two of them will try to make Cross and Hope tell the truth to everyone and the game will end.]
Evil Lux AU and all the characters made by @anotherrosesthatfell <33
Snowflake belongs to me.
#a sunflower in full bloom au#evil lux au#snowflake [e.l.a]#character info#oc design#fun facts#idk what i'm doing with life.
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