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#I will be wishing you nothing but happiness
keerysfreckles · 3 days
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perfect storm — OP81
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pairing: oscar piastri x sargeant!reader
summary: oscar's small crush on his best friend's sister becomes something more after a secret is shared.
warnings: nothing too explicit but still sexual themes so 18+ (soft smut), not proofread
a/n: LECLERC FAMILY FRONT ROW IKTR!!!
masterlist !
⋆ ˚ 。 ⋆ ୨୧ ˚
"happy birthday to you!"
the birthday girl leans forward to blow out to two numbered candles on top of her cake. logan sargeant, oscar piastri and alex albon were sitting across from her on the other side of the kitchen island. logan sets his phone down after sending a recording of the boys horrendous singing to his mom.
oscar leans forward to take the candles out of the cake, while alex asks, "so how does being twenty two feel?"
y/n shrugs, licking the chocolate icing off the bottom of the candles before oscar can throw them away.
"the same as before. just another birthday," she smiles.
logan's about to add, but a phone call from the williams team manager takes him away to the living room.
"you're gonna miss the cake!" y/n exclaims, watching as oscar starts cutting it into triangles.
logan waves her off, "it'll be there when i get back."
alex, oscar and y/n are now left in the kitchen, all enjoying their own slice of cake.
"so, y/n," alex breaks the comfortable silence. "do you have any plans of going out and getting laid tonight?"
y/n pushes alex's shoulder as a blush starts forming on her cheeks, while oscar can't help but supress a laugh.
every year since she turned eighteen, alex always asked the girl if she found a special someone for her special day. and every year it was the same answer.
"no alex, and i don't plan on having a one night stand just because it's my birthday," she explains.
oscar can't help but notice the pink in y/n's face hasn't gone away. as much as he hates to admit it, he's thought about how it'd feel to be with y/n for one night. and now it might've been revealed she's never been with anyone before? oscar's thoughts were going a mile a minute.
"so what? you're just going to stay a virgin forever?"
y/n pushes alex's shoulder again, only causing him to laugh. as a chance to do anything to get rid of her growing embarrassment, she starts tidying around the kitchen.
"why don't you and oscar go at it?" he snaps his fingers, as if a lightbulb went off above his head.
y/n and oscar awkwardly look at each other before speaking at the same time.
"alex!"
"what?"
"why do i always walk in on the worst conversations?" logan comes out from the hallway, ignoring what his teammate has just asked his sister.
"well i was just-"
logan immediately cuts alex off, "nope, we have a team meeting to go to."
logan and alex both hug y/n quickly and wish her one last happy birthday. her and oscar start taking down the decorations around the living room of her apartment, both still choosing to ignore what alex asked the girl minutes prior.
"you don't have to stay you know?" y/n offers, "you've done plenty to make this birthday special."
"you sure? there's still three hours left until your birthday's officially over," he looked down to check his watch, making y/n chuckle.
she takes the paper streamers from his hands and brings them to the garbage.
"i'm sure osc."
his cheeks flush at the name. one y/n's grown accustomed to using after being around lando for so long.
she gives him a long hug before he leaves for the night, her fingers brush his back as she let's go of the australian.
"happy birthday y/n," oscar smiles, before kissing the top of her head.
she yells at him from her doorway for him to get home safe, which she receives a thumbs up in return.
however the boy she bid her goodbyes too was sitting in the parking garage, letting his car run just like his thoughts.
the way oscar thought about it, tonight was the only clear shot of telling y/n how he felt about her. he's had a crush on her since they were kids, and it only grew as he did.
the worst she can say is no, oscar thought.
well, the worst she can do is reject you. and never talk to you again.
oscar shakes his head as he thoughts become worse. he couldn't get himself out of this one. he didn't want to get himself out of this one.
he knocks on y/n's apartment door quickly, just as fast as his heart's beating in his chest.
"oh, hey osc. did you forget som-"
oscar takes one step closer, grabbing y/n's face in his hands to bring her lips to his.
he feels her hands moving to hold onto his wrists, but doesn't push him away. although he can't hear anything over the heavy beating of his heart.
only inches seperate them now, as their own heavy breaths mingle with the other.
y/n simply stands on her toes to wrap her arms around oscar's neck. he sways the pair slightly, a smile beginning to form on his face once he registered nothing's ruined between the two.
y/n turns her head, leaving light kisses along oscar's neck.
he simply closes to door behind him, letting the girl continue gliding her lips across his skin.
y/n sets her feet back on the ground, roaming her hands down oscar's arms, letting them fall in his hands. he runs his thumbs over her knuckles.
"you're not doing this just because alex said something, are you?" she let her insecurities get the best of her as she looks up at oscar.
he starts shaking his head before she can even finish the question.
"absolutely not. i want to do this, but only if you want to."
y/n nods, "i want to, trust me i definitely want to," both her and oscar laugh at her eagerness. "i'm just nervous."
oscar takes one of her hands in response and places it against his chest, a little off center.
she feels how fast his heart is beating underneath her hand. she couldn't comprehend that she was the reason.
"i think i'm more nervous than you love," both chuckle again.
y/n moves her hand from his chest towards his neck to pull him down to her, only to connect their lips again. she simply guides them out of the entryway and down the hallway towards her bedroom.
they only break the kiss so y/n can get onto her bed and for oscar to close the door.
oscar's eager to kick his shoes off, and y/n can't help but let a giggle fall between her lips. she watches as he climbs on her bed soon after, catching her lips in his again.
he maneuvers the two so y/n's now laying under him, with one hand pushing her shirt up ever so slightly while the other arm is bent by her head.
his brain becomes fuzzy as she begins running her fingers through his hair, short breathy moans slipping into y/n's mouth.
y/n arched her back as oscar's hand moved over her skin, silently begging to take her shirt off. she nods, moving slightly to make it easier for oscar.
oscar's eyes flutter down to the base of her neck. his thumb brushes over the skinny silver chain with a small bar, with the number eighty-one etched into it.
"you still have it?"
y/n nods, remembering the exact moment she opened the necklace as a birthday gift from oscar. four years later and she's never taken it off once.
"i never take it off," she admits.
oscar's at a loss for words. he's truly had her this whole time, without knowing it.
oscar suddenly comes back to his senses as y/n begins taking off his own shirt.
minutes pass. clothes are thrown on the floor as oscar's still hovered over the girl. his hand inching it's way closer to the spot he knew she needed him in.
oscar made sure to be gentle as his fingers brushed through y/n's most vulnerable area. he places light kisses on her neck and on her lips while helping her through her first high.
"i'll be careful, i promise," oscar moves to line himself up with the girl below him. her hands remain on his biceps, squeezing ever so slightly as he breaks the barrier.
just as oscar stated, he was more than gentle with y/n. he made sure to listen to her if she wanted to slow down, and whispered light praises in her ears as the bed started hitting the wall behind y/n's head.
"osc," y/n mumbles out. her back arches as he continues hitting the perfect spot.
he watches as her eyes close, and feels her fingernails digging into his arms. not caring that there will be red marks tomorrow.
oscar feels her tighten around him. if he could pay to feel that a million times, he would. it was euphoric, making him halt his movements. the pair locked eyes again as oscar helped y/n ride out her high.
oscar was quick to remove himself from the girl, finishing on her bundled up sheets off to the side of her bed.
oscar leaned forward to kiss y/n's forward, before whispering, "you did so good love."
y/n blushes for the hundreth time that night, taking in oscar's praise as she regains a regular heartbeat.
oscar kissed her lips once more before throwing on a baggy pair of sweatpants y/n told him he could have. he helped her clean herself up, sharing a few kisses in between steps.
now he stared in awe as she changed into his shirt he was wearing less than an hour ago. she held her arms out once she layed back in bed, beckoning oscar to follow her.
he rested his head against her chest, eyes closing shut when she started threading her fingers through his messy hair.
"osc?" her voice is quiet, unsure of how the boy in her arms will react to her upcoming thought.
he hums in response, but it's enough to make the girl continue.
"what are we?"
her movements pause as oscar sits up to face y/n. he brushes a hair behind her ear, "we don't have to worry about labels right now. we'll sleep, and i can even make you an amazing breakfast. then we can talk about it, yeah?"
she nods, but a smile makes its way to her lips once oscar kisses her again.
as oscar lays back down, y/n's thoughts come out again.
"we're not telling logan yet, right?"
"oh no, definitely not yet."
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pitchsidestories · 18 hours
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my kink is karma II Alexia Putellas x Reader
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a/n: Hi, we hope you've as much fun with the oneshot as we had writing it.
masterlist I word count: 1695
Champions League nights were always magical, no matter who the opponent was. But a Champions League final against record champion Olympique Lyonnais promised an even more special night.
After Barcelonas loss against the same team in the final two years prior, they had something to prove. So of course, the atmosphere among the team was a mixture between excitement and nervousness.
You could feel your heart pounding in your chest right before the game started. You hugged your teammates and wished them a good game, partly to calm their anxiety and partly to calm your own.
“What about me?”, Alexias voice sounded from behind you.
As you turned around, she stood there, her arms wide open with a winning smile on her face.
You looked her up and down before jokingly saying: “You? Well…”
“Well?!”, she echoed, playing offended.
You winked at her: “A goal from you later would be perfect, you know why.”
You could still feel Alexias eyes following you as you took your position on the pitch.
While the referee blew her whistle, signaling the start of the game, the bench was still busy discussing what just had happened.
“What did she mean, Ale?”, Vicky asked, barely able to contain her curiosity.
Alexia shrugged: “Nothing.”
The young striker wrinkled her nose: “I don’t believe you.”
“Focus on the game, kiddo.”, Alexia laughed, nodding in the direction of the pitch.
“I’m not a kid, you’re just old.”, Vicky retorted with a grin.
Mapi joined the conversation with an innocent look on her face: “She’s not wrong about that, Ale.”
“I’ll show you guys old!”, Alexia rolled her eyes with fondness.
Ona grinned at her: “Y/n wants a goal from you!”
“From the bench?”, Mapi asked, her eyebrows raised.
“No, when she’s coming on.”, Ona explained.
“More like if she’s coming on.”, Mapi corrected her.
While the two defenders giggled, Alexia just shook her head: “Of course I’m coming on!”
You realized quickly that the game would not be an easy win. Lyon had their chances but so did Barcelona. For almost an hour, it was an even match but you could feel that your team wanted it more. And then Aitana scored.
“Well done, Tana!”, you yelled as you ran towards her to celebrate.
She hugged you tightly: “Thanks!”
From this moment on, your priority was to defend the lead and try to put your strikers into goal scoring situations.
In the ninetieth minute, Alexia came on. Your heart skipped a beat while she joined you on the pitch. But you also felt some kind of anger. There were only six minutes left to play.
Alexia made the most out of it. 120 seconds after coming on, she scored the 2:0 for Barcelona.
You could barely contain your happiness as you watched your girlfriend run across the pitch while pulling her shirt over her head to celebrate.
You had to blink away some tears as you followed her and pulled her into a celebratory hug: “Ale!”
 “You got the goal you wanted after all.”, she retorted with a smug smile on her face. Despite her cocky attitude you could see that her hazelnut eyes were turning wet. The captain of your team was overtaken by her own emotions.
Everyone could see how much it meant for the midfielder to score in the final against a team to whom you both lost twice in a final.
“You deserve it so much, Ale.”, you whole-heartedly whispered into her ear, not sure if Alexia was even able to understand you as the noise in the stadium escalated.
Embracing you for one last time the Blonde had to let you go, not before muttering close to your face, giving you chills everywhere:” This one is for us.”
“Yeah, yeah, very romantic, but we still got a few minutes to play.”, Lucy interrupted the emotional moment between you two grinning before throwing the midfielder’s jersey back to Alexia who slowly put it back on.
“Lucy.”, your girlfriend rolled her eyes annoyed at the English defender.
“Let’s go.”, Lucy replied unimpressed.
“Don’t worry, we’ll celebrate that goal later.”, you promised Alexia winking.
“I can’t wait.”, she replied.
“Hey! Enough now!”, the older English player yelled impatiently by your lovebird’s behaviour.
“You don’t understand, Lucia.”, you protested laughing.
“We’ve four minutes left.”, she said unmoved by your quite visible emotional turmoil.
“Only four more minutes.”, you repeated to yourself. In fact, they felt like the longest minutes in Champions League history. Your legs were so tired, when the referee blew the final whistle, you fell to your knees, simply from exhaustion and happiness.
Barcelona has won, a second time in a row. It was Alexia's, your teammates and your triumph against Lyon at last. This was unbelievable.
“We did it!”, Alexia rejoiced, standing right next to you.
“Yes, we did.”, you answered cheerfully, before you added with a worried glance at your girlfriend, careful, don’t trip over!”
Your warning came too late, the Barcelona captain fell ungraciously over her own boots, lucky for her she landed very softly on top of your body.
“Girls, the children are still here!”, Sandra shouted at you, although the goalkeeper couldn’t hide her amusement by what just had happened.
“Shut up, Sandra.”, Alexia demanded, her usual stern face was now full of giddiness and excitement. It felt like the young girl who became a fan of Barcelona and fell in love with the club and football had overtaken her in that very second.
“Yeah, nothing to see here.”, you giggled.
“Exactly.”, the captain confirmed, while pressing a kiss to your already blushed cheek.
“You should get up now though, the press wants interviews with you both.”, Irene intervened seriously.
“Coming.“, Alexia said, carefully lifting herself off of you.
You immediately followed suit, brushing the grass of your shirt and short before hurrying to your interview.
The young journalist thrusted a microphone towards you: “Y/n, what does the CL win mean to you?“
“It means so much to me. I know people questioned whether we would be able to keep up with last years performance. But I think we proved that here tonight.“, you said. Your gaze subconsciously shifting towards Alexia who was interviewed on the other side of the stadium.
“You certainly did. Thanks for taking the time and have fun celebrating.“
You grinned at the journalist: “Gracias.“
Turning away from the camera, you were greeted by Alexia: “Done?“
“Yes, what about you?“, you asked, hoping that she was done with her media duties for the night as well.
“Me too.“
Alexia took your hand into hers, gently pulling you away from the cameras and the bustle on the field.
“Wait, where are you taking me?“, you laughed while you followed her.
“Somewhere more private.“, Alexia smiled.
You grinned: “Sounds like a good idea.“
“Come on.“
“I’m right behind you.“, you assured her while Alexia opened the door to your hotel room and pulled you in.
“So here we’re.“, you said, patiently waiting for her to make a move.
She nodded, her shoulders slumping in relaxation: “Finally.“
You wrapped your arms around her: “Oh yes, tonight was unbelievable…“
“You were unbelievable.“, she corrected you softly.
“So where you. After everything that happened in the past year.“ You were absolutely in awe about how much your girlfriend had fought to come back after her ACL injury, the setbacks she had injury-wise and with the conditions of the Spanish national team and how she dealt with the little game time she got.
People had started to doubt that she would ever come back as the World’s best football player but you knew, it was only a matter of time.
Apparently, Alexia felt a similar way. All the hard work she put in was finally worth it. She blinked the wetness in her eyes away: “Thank you. It means so much to me to have scored this goal tonight…“
“I can only imagine.“
Alexias hand come down on your thigh, right above your left knee. The bright red of the injury from the Champions League final two years ago had faded and only left a scar.
You both knew the injury was something that had bothered you for a long time. Alexia did not have to say a word, you knew what she meant but you only shook your head: “That was nothing compared to Ona tonight… that moment was really scary.“
“Ona’s tough.”, your girlfriend remarked softly.
“That’s true. Plus, she’s in good hands with Lucy.”, you were smiling fondly as you were thinking about your teammates who’s love for each other was so visible after the win.
“You don’t have to worry about it.”, Alexia declared earnestly.
“I don’t.”, you cleared your throat before you continued, close your eyes, what do you see?”
For a moment the Blonde gave you a questioning look, afterwards she dd as you told her. A huge grin was forming on her lips:” Us celebrating.”
“A very iconic moment.”, you answered mirroring her happiness while you were slowly undressing yourself.
“Oh, not this one. The next one.”, Alexia quickly corrected herself.
“The next one?”, you lifted an eyebrow which she couldn’t see, but your voice transported your surprise.
“Next year.”, the midfielder confirmed.
“What about now? You can open your eyes again.”, you offered her trying to sound nonchalantly and hide the excitement which you felt running through your veins right now.
“Now, I see you.”, Alexia swallowed hard while her eyes who appeared dark green under the light of the bedside lamp wandered through your almost entirely naked body.
“Liking what you see?”, you asked her in a cheeky tone knowing fully well what your girlfriend was feeling when she looked at you.
“You look so beautiful right now.”, the player replied, licking her lips as she bridged the distance between you both to gave you a passionate kiss. When her kink was karma, triumph never tasted as good as with you by her side.
It was going to be a long night and you couldn’t wait to get started with your own private celebration. The public could wait until tomorrow, now was your time to enjoy the win.
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harunayuuka2060 · 2 days
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Trey: MC?
Chubby MC: ...Trey?
Trey: *laughs; happy to see them again* How are you?! Oh my dear great seven!
Trey: You still look huggable!
Chubby MC: ...
Trey: *obviously wants to hug them*
Chubby MC: ...
Chubby MC: Ugh. *opens their arms wide*
Trey: *hugs them* I missed you!
Chubby MC: Yeah, yeah. Me too.
Trey: *chuckles* So, what brings you here to Queendom of Roses?
Chubby MC: I was job hunting.
Trey: Hm. I see. Oh, and sorry for ignoring you, Jade.
Chubby MC: ...
Jade: *smiles* It's alright.
Chubby MC: ...
Trey: You're not aware that he was following you, huh?
Trey: *has invited MC and Jade to his pastry shop*
Trey: What have you been doing now?
Jade: MC and I live in the same house.
Chubby MC: No, he has his own, but keeps trespassing on mine.
Jade: We have a mutual understanding.
Trey: ...
Trey: Oh.
Chubby MC: How about you, Trey?
Trey: *sigh* As you can see, I'm still single. Though I'd say I'm happy with my life right now.
Chubby MC: Huh. So Cater's not your husband?
Cater: *tries to walk back inside*
Chubby MC: I already saw you.
Cater: ...
Cater: *awkward chuckle* I'll get dressed first. Okay?
Trey: ...
Trey: I'm sorry about that.
Jade: ...
Jade: You should teach me your ways, Trey.
Chubby MC: *gives Jade a side glance*
Cater: Our friends didn't know.
Trey: Yes, we've been keeping this a secret. For now, at least.
Chubby MC: Ah, so I've been spoiled. My bad.
Cater: You're the first one we were planning to tell anyway, so this works out fine.
Chubby MC: Why me?
Trey: You're the kind of person who is hard to surprise.
Cater: Yeah~ And you're always quick to catch on~. *pouts*
Jade: Indeed, though I wish they could understand how sincere my feelings for them are.
Trey and Cater: ...
Cater: Huh? I thought you gave up pursuing them, Jade.
Trey: Yeah. You confessed, but made no efforts after that.
Jade: ...
Chubby MC: ...
Cater: So you're the culprit why our baby stopped believing in love!
Chubby MC: I'm just insecure, what the fuck- Jade has nothing to do with what I have become.
Trey: Ah, how nostalgic. You used to defend Jade too.
Chubby MC: ...
Jade: This information has boosted my morale. Thank you.
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suguru-getos · 2 days
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Could you write a continuation of yandere satosugu where the reader lived and they try everything to help her get better and care for her?
| making up for mistakes | yandere satosugu x reader |
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-> continuation of the first part: link 🔗
you had survived the almost suicide attempt you so carefully & yet so carelessly attempted. you were sure you weren’t getting up after this. damn it you made sure to hit your head hard, you could see blanks, you could see stars in your eyes until it all faded to a peaceful nothing-ness.
now, you’re awake again. nothing hurts. you know they must’ve told their friend shoko to aid in your injuries. you feel like you’ve woken up from a long slumber. unwanted as it may be… it does make you feel eerily refreshed. you stretch your limbs from the bed, they’re going to kill you for this. kill you for hampering with their property. oh well — at this point you’re fine with it. what’s it going to do? hurt you. pain is all there is they could ever offer anyways. maybe you can scream out and wish it gets over. that’s all you set your mind to.
you look to the side, the curtains are open and there is a little drizzle of snow. it brings a smile to your face. what if you hadn’t been kidnapped? it would’ve been so fun to hop into one of the lovely cafes you like & order some hot cocoa. put both your hands and wrap them around the ceramic of the hot cup and exhale in utter relaxation of the aroma the sweet cafe has to offer. oh… happy days.
its nauseating what your life is now, wrapping a blanket around yourself and checking down below. you are wearing clothes, decent clothes… not the sultry, slutty ones that satoru forces you to wear. you feel like you could throw up when the reminder occurs again. beaten up like you were nothing but an animal, throwing up in pain and anxiety--
"there we go! princess! awake! oh my god!" satoru comes in and hugs you tightly, his bulky arms wrapping against you, he doesn't let your mind have the time to panic. besides, satoru was... not the one who inflicted you that pain. even though he did nothing about it, in a moment of pure misery, your mind would latch on to him for comfort. "baby- you scared daddy, please don't do that ever again. fuck! i thought i lost you." you could hear the heartbeats on your snow haired man, they were ragged and reminded of the same panic you once bore.
"sorry." your eyes lack all emotions, just a soft murmur escaping you. the haunting realization that you were alive was eating you up. even so, it was your soul that had died. it's the dejected way you answered that makes satoru panic even more. immediately at your knees, leaning against your thighs and mumbling soft apologies, tears wetting your skin. "please baby, I'm so sorry, i should never have let that happen... you did a mistake that's all! you- you- pissed us off." he shakes his head, hugging you tightly.
your hands robotically landed across his hair, caressing. "it's okay, i did wrong, i understand."
your responses were making him nauseous, he hated seeing you in pain, but suguru always says its something that's needed. why is it needed? you're not an animal, are you? the ways with which satoru and suguru try to 'discipline' their toy they are delusional enough to call their lover is insane.
"i got breakfast, little one." now, your heart sinks. you hear the voice of the man who did this to you, mothering, now that his rage is faded into pure, eviscerating guilt. "you have no idea the joy it gives me seeing you awake." suguru hums, and you latch onto satoru, hugging him tightly. satoru's heart skips a beat. this was not the first time you had reached out to him, yet, you did it by your own. it gives him a sick sense of protectiveness. "he wouldn't do anything to ya baby, suguru loves you too." he reminds, looking at a devastated suguru.
"please don't hurt yourself again, angel" suguru hums, leaning in and kissing your forehead. it makes you sick to your stomach, how they treat you right now. you know that whatever you did yielded no results. and they are ever so careful about the same. you're pretty sure you'd have either of them by your side at all times.
"let's go and eat, suguru's made your favorite!" satoru chirps, happily holding you princess-style and going to the dining area. your eyes wandered to the other room on the way, the same room where this all happened, it's making you panic internally. the grotesque reminder of how they treated you. you're about to throw up again.
as soon as satoru puts you down, you run to throw up in disgust, nothing comes out except a few drops of water. your stomach is empty as is. a large, looming hand caresses your back. "I'm sorry, angel. please relax." suguru-- it's suguru...
"i'm sorry." you answered, "i am so sorry." you nodded to get back to the dining area, you should know better than to be with satoru. its not like suguru wouldn't do anything he wants anyways... you'd just like to have some comfort over it.
luckily for you, the breakfast went fine, you were eating quietly, while satoru just observed you. how uncomfortable you looked, the subtle shift in your demeanor. every tiny thing. suguru is essentially doing the same, gazing at your way and observing you. "you look beautiful." suguru comments, and you force a smile from the deepest pits of your psyche. "thank you, suguru."
you know he's ticked off, you need to call them 'daddy' and you're here, addressing them by their first names. sigh... they just have to help you heal, there isn't anything they can do about it really. they pushed you this far, and they should make up for it.
however, as days turn into weeks, satoru and suguru are forced to face the haunting realization that your mental and physical health is worsening. you barely eat, barely talk... you just, stare into the nothingness of empty spaces. satoru has avoided missions to take care of you. he is by your side, sleeps next to you, kisses your forehead, helps you take a shower. while earlier, you tried to at least pretend and work with it. answer however you could, talk to them, fake your smiles, now its nothing. you barely talk.
this time, satoru has a mission to take care of, but suguru is the one who's spending time with you. gently placing you on the bathtub, caressing your forearm, massaging it, decorating it with petals. "there we go little girl, there we go. feels nice?" he coos, and when you don't respond, sighs weakly. he wishes he could at least hear something out of you. when he sees you immersed in auto-pilot, he hums by himself; "yes, yes it is." he has to talk to himself in hopes that its you talking to him. "you know, me and satoru... we were thinking a trip to Italy sounds nice, or maybe Paris.." you used to love travelling, he hopes that would utter out a response from you. NOTHING comes out of you however. that makes suguru's heart break a little, "or maybe, anywhere that you like." he hums, sighing.
"angel?" he asks softly, leaning in and kissing your neck, maybe that would at least earn some leaning back. your resistance...
none.
"talk to me for fucks sake!" suguru snarls, glaring hard at you. you don't even flinch at that, contrary to your earlier flinching and tweaking. a sigh escapes him and then comes bubbling tears. he has truly fucked you up. the haunting realization finally hits him. he can't live with it anymore... it's choking the very fiber of his being.
the rest of the shower passes by in a haze, and suguru is quiet, tears dripping from his face. "what should i do so that you become normal again?" he asks again, pouting and begging with his eyes. no response...
he gets up after tucking you in bed. the dark circles in your eyes are an explicit example of how less you're sleeping. sometimes you wake up with irritating nightmares, screaming and crying. that's the only moment when satoru and suguru are welcomed by your affections.
suguru sighs, he needs to win you this time. or maybe... what's that called? stockholm syndrome?
or maybe, he needs to discuss with satoru about erasing your memory...
or maybe, he needs a curse that can shove your memory off and then they can date you.. from scratch...
either way, they're not leaving you. anytime soon.
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tsimvkas · 2 days
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find comfort in you — trent a.
A/N: it took me a week to be able to write this so im sorry to be posting it on a happy sunday lmao 😵‍💫 a proper trent fic is coming soon please be patient with meee
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In the six months you’ve been together, you’ve seen Trent crying once: when Klopp announced his decision.
Since then, you’ve been dreading this day. The final game, when Trent would have to say goodbye to one of the most important men of his life.
When all the celebrations ended and the player’s family entered the pitch, you sat and waited. Trent is very reserved, and you’re even more reserved than him.
Since day one, the agreement was not dragging attention to the relationship, which means you hadn’t been officialised to the rest of the world yet.
It was never a problem to you, not wanting to have people stalking you around or commenting weird things on your socials. But in moments like these you wish Trent were a normal guy.
You wish you could just go there and share the moment with him and his family, supporting him and telling him how proud you were. How strong he was.
But your choices needed some sacrifices, so you kept watching the lap of honour as a normal fan, smiling to the view of your boyfriend holding Aura, so happy and comfortable in her uncle’s arms.
Having seeing him crying earlier during Klopp’s speech had broken your heart, but you knew it was coming. Even though the rest of the world doesn’t know how much, Trent is a sensitive guy, and the end of this era — the only era he has known in his professional career — really affected him.
You agreed to meet them in the parking lot, so when Marcel waved for you it was your signal to leave.
Patiently waiting next to Trent’s car, you instantly noticed how his mood had changed since the last time you checked on him on the pitch.
When no one’s watching, is when your boy shows how he’s actually feeling.
“Are you coming home with me?” was the first thing he said, but instead of teasing and saying something like ‘good night to you too’, you chose to cup his face and stroke his cheeks.
“I think your mum was thinking about staying with you, she was telling me about what she’ll cook” you told him softly, your heart hammering in your chest when he leaned on your touch.
“I asked her not to. Just for tonight, I need to be alone” Trent squeezed your waist, sighing. You nodded, since you imagined that he’d want some space after the draining day.
“That’s ok babe” you stroked his chin. “Can you drop me home?”
“No” he shook his head and opened his eyes, his pleading eyes immediately finding yours. “I need to be alone with you. Can you come?”
“Yeah. Yeah, of course” you felt your heart tightening with worry. “What do you want for dinner? We can have a takeaway”
“I don’t feel like eating” he mumbled, playing with the hem of your Liverpool shirt. “I just wanna cuddle and sleep”
It was your turn to sigh, but you kept stroking his cheek to give him some comfort. “Trent…”
“You can make me breakfast tomorrow” he shrugged, and you knew the subject was over for him.
“Do you want me to drive?” you asked him, ignoring the dinner topic for a while. When he nodded, you pecked his lips and walked to the driver’s side.
You drove quietly, scratching Trent’s scalp at every traffic light and smiling at his little pout.
It didn’t take long to get on his porch, and soon you were turning off the engine. Trent jumped out of the car and ran to open your door for you, making you smile.
Holding hands, you entered his house with him and Trent sighed at the warmth of his safe space.
Once you were in his room, you let go of his hand to open his wardrobe.
“You can shower first” you told him, wanting your boyfriend to have a relaxing time whilst you got to tidy his room. You love Trent, but on a daily basis he’s a messy guy and there’s nothing you can do about it.
He nodded without enthusiasm, accepting the towel you grabbed for him and walking to the bathroom.
Knowing Trent you knew it was going to be a long shower, so you got to work. Changing the bed sheets, putting his clothes in the laundry, opening the bedroom’s window and preparing a snack for him, soon you were back in his room.
Placing the sandwich and the cup of tea on his side table, and looked for the pyjama you’re always leaving there for moments like these.
When he got out, Trent frowned at the plate on the table, but you didn’t give him time to complain, quickly kissing his cheek and entering the bathroom.
Coming back to his bedroom, you were welcomed with the sight of Trent still sitting on the edge of the bed waiting for you. His tired and puffy eyes looked back at you when you got closer and leaned to peck his lips, happy to see that the plate you brought him was empty.
“Ready to knock out?” you murmured, scratching his scalp. Instead of answering, he grabbed the hoodie next to him and handed it to you.
“It’s cold tonight and we know I’ll steal the blanket” he murmured, giving you a shy smile
Giggling, you wore the hoodie before climbing in bed. Cold or not, Trent’s bedroom was acclimated and he could easily make the room warm, but you know how much he liked seeing you in his clothes and after a day like the one he had you think you boy deserves the little happinesses.
When your boyfriend crawled behind you, you let him lay in bed before laying on top of him and tucking your head into his neck, sighing when his hand started to stroke your lower back gently.
In the past six months you quickly found out that cuddling with Trent was one of the best parts of your relationship. His strong arms made you feel safe and it never took you long to sleep with the comforting warmth that irradiates from him.
“Thank you for staying with me tonight” he murmured, and you instantly pulled back to look at him.
“Always. Are you ok, though?” you gently stroked his cheek, brushing away a few tears that you know he tried to hold, without success.
“I’m gonna be” he murmured, kissing your nose. “We’re all gonna be alright. But I was thinking…”
“Mm?” you gently poked his nose, waiting for him to talk.
“You should come live with me” he said casually, biting a smile. “If I’m not seeing Klopp everyday I think I should be able to see you everyday”
“You’re comparing me to Klopp?” you raised an eyebrow.
Trent smiled softly and shrugged, and it was crazy how you could make him feel better even after the intense and emotional day he had.
“I mean, both are family”
You rolled your eyes with a pretending disbelief.
“I’m surprised you never tried to move in with him, Trent”
“I did” he mumbled, making you laugh loudly. “Ulla said no”
“I’m Klopp’s replacement then” you mocked, playfully biting his jaw.
Your boyfriend shook his head, now looking at you seriously. “You’re not a replacement. I just think the time is right but I understand if you think it’s too soon”
“I know baby” you kissed his cheek, smiling he caresses your back beneath the hoodie and your shirt. “I’ll move in with you if you learn how to clean your room”
Trent eagerly nodded, hugging your waist tighter and pecking your lips.
“Deal. I’ll clean it everyday after training”
“We know you can’t clean it everyday, not even if your life depended on it, Trent” you chuckled, resting your head on his shoulder.
“But you’ll move anyways” he brushed his nose on your hair. Trent always says how much he loves the smell of your hair products, and you think it’s cute how he pays attention to that, even complaining when you use a different one.
“I will” you kissed his neck. “I’d do anything to be closer to you”
Tangling your legs together, your boyfriend yawned before readjusting your body on top of his so you could both be more comfortable.
“I wish Klopp felt the same” Trent jokingly sighed, making you both laugh.
You know he’ll cry when you’re asleep. You know there’s a maximum amount of comfort you can offer.
But you also know that Trent will feel better if he can cry holding you; for him, your presence is already enough. You know he’ll wake up with puffy eyes and a tired expression, but he’ll get up and look for you in the kitchen.
He’ll give you a softly smile and hug you, giving your face little kisses until you start to giggle and push him away. He’ll sit and wait for you to finish coffee, and then bring you to sit on his lap.
Trent knows that tonight something was taken away from him, and that the future is uncertain, but he has you. And you, he’s sure, are his only certainty.
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webslingingslasher · 3 days
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jbae!! if you're taking requests, can I ask for something with trouble comforting peter? maybe he's had a terrible week and loads of things pile up and he just collapses (maybe he even cries out of frustration cause I'm a sucker for that) and trouble just holds him to her chest and runs her hands through his hair 🥺 only if you want to though!! have a great day ily
*you always ask when peter knows he's in love with trouble...* (cleaning out my drafts)
peter's been m.i.a. all day.
rumor is he skipped class and slept past breakfast... and lunch. the unanswered texts you have string along with the theory. you were talking to peter last night so you don't think he's sick, at least not with a cold.
he'd been pulling back the last few days because he's been so busy. you haven't seen him in three days because of a test or a frat meeting or dinner with his aunt - in your opinion, he's spread a little too thin and you think that caught up to him today.
if peter can cut class and hang out at the frat house so can you. unsure if he's taking another nap. you're not risking a phone call that'll wake him and settle for a quiet entry with slow steps up the stairs before silently opening his door and sliding in.
peter's not asleep; he's awake and staring at his ceiling. he knows you're here but he can't bring himself to make believe happy. so he doesn't.
you softly shut his door and rest your back on it. 'do you have a case of the sads?' peter stays in his starfish position for way too long, you think he's building the courage to speak for the first time today. when he does, it's raspy and riddled with depression.
'i have a case of the sads.' even saying it makes him want to curl into a ball. it's times like this he wishes he was home and still small enough to crawl into his aunt's bed.
you've never seen peter this depleted, all spark in him has fizzled. 'do you want to cuddle?' you don't need to ask what's wrong, you already know. and you're getting the feeling he really just wants silent company.
peter sits up to open the space next to him, he's not moving until you're settled because he's about to rest his entire weight on you. the second you steal his spot, he lays on top and buries his face into you while you warmly accept the pressure.
peter only hides in you like this when he's sick or really tired. you don't say anything while you gently tuck a curl behind his ear, you lightly smile and graze the outer edge with your finger- a small twitch tells you he doesn't like it.
normally, you'd double down. today, he needs nice.
'you have cute ears.' it's barely above a whisper, 'i should see them more often.' peter doesn't respond, you didn't need him to.
it's a peaceful quiet, you think it's nice just being in peter's presence sometimes. you keep dragging your hand up and down his back, you're trying to tell him he's okay with your touch. your other combs through his hair over and over, you think he might be falling asleep and you gladly welcome it.
you're not sure how peter's breathing he's tucked into your chest so tight, but as long as he's able to you won't complain. you start to trace little squares over his skin while slightly zoning out on a bird on his balcony collecting what looks like twigs from the overhanging tree.
your shirt feels like it's clinging to you, peter's washing his hot breath into it. you change your shapes to squiggles. the bird hops around, another twig is scooped up. you glance down at your chest and stop your hands.
it's not just choked breath.
'are you crying?'
the floodgates burst.
peter digs into you, holding you so tight you almost wheeze. his shoulders shake as he sobs into you, your heart shatters as he breaks down. peter's never cried in front of you and it's fucking terrible to see.
you don't know what to do, you just act on instinct and try to wrap your arms around him like he always does to you. it always makes you feel protected and secure, it makes you feel like peter's a safe place and nothing can hurt you in his hold.
'you're okay, petey.' you're saying it for the both of you. 'you're okay.' peter thrashes his head back and forth, he doesn't agree. you steady him and say it again. 'you're okay, i promise you're okay.'
it's a little weak because you don't feel like you're fixing much but it always helps when peter says it.
'i'm here. you're gonna be okay because i'm here.' you hear a trumpet in your mind when peter crawls further up to tuck his head under your chin. it's working, you're doing good.
peter's never cried in front of a girl before. his aunt doesn't count and neither does- he doesn't let his mind go there, he's already spirling hard enough.
but you're warm and soft and really fucking loving and it's making him cry harder because it's all he wanted today and you showed up with an abundance of it.
you're crushed at the sound, if you could suffocate the sad out of him you would've already done it. 'please don't throw yourself into a panic attack.' he wasn't going to, but now that you said it he thinks he's approaching that territory quickly.
you can sense it too. you press him closer and breathe deep, his head sinks with your chest. 'do one with me.' it's weak and followed by a cough.
'one more.' he mimics you, it's better this time. peter does the third on his own, you praise him with a back rub. 'see? you're okay.' the smallest of nods, a short stutter of breath and he's sniffling to hold more in.
'let it out. you broke yourself to get to this point, let it out.' it's another wave but it's not as brutal, it's bordering on the verge of pitiful. 'you're not allowed to do this to yourself anymore, peter. i didn't say anything but next time i will. you can't stretch yourself like this, it isn't healthy.'
'i'm sorry.' he doesn't know if he's sorry for crying or for making you care this much. it's a blanket statement, he thinks. you won't let it be one. 'don't you dare say sorry. there's nothing to be sorry about.'
peter can't fathom why, but he almost spews out an i love you and it terrifies him. he feels it in his chest, there's a level of care and affection you're giving him that he's never had before. if he knew he was dying, he'd do it right here in your arms.
peter's never felt safe in another person's hold before. you'd protect him at all costs, even from himself and you just proved it. he needs to see you, he needs to see the face he calls home. he needs you to smile softly at him like he's your world because he promises this time he'd do the same.
you do exactly what he wishes and he feels a pang to his heart when you lightly wipe under his cheeks. 'are you all cried out? if not i'll bully you into more.' god, he wants to swarm you with a thousand kisses.
'i'm okay now.' he hovers over you, an arm on each side of your head. you accept a tiny kiss where your neck and collarbone meet, it's a delicate marking. 'good, you needed it. you also need to eat, and please tell me you had some water today. i'll make you anything you want, or i'll buy you dinner- anything you want, you deserve good things when you have a case of the sads.'
you don't recognize the look on peter's face but it makes you a little self-conscious, you might be a tad overbearing. 'why are you looking at me like that? am i being a little over the top?'
he's still wearing it. 'not at all.' you feel good about it, you're sticking to your guns about standing up to him if you need to. 'okay, good, because even if you said i was, i wouldn't care. i know you're mr. big strong tough man but i swear you need someone to check you sometimes because you get-'
'i really need to kiss you right now.'
you stop yourself and blink at his words. 'oh.' your cheeks feel warm, you nod one time before peter's pressing his bottom lip to your top one and lowering himself until his chest brushes yours.
it's a different kind of kiss, there's nothing behind it except just wanting to do exactly as he said. a cluster of pecks before he pulls back to look at you, you can't place what he's thinking.
'what?' peter shakes his head before going in for another, after the third time he'd failed to remove himself from you, you stop him. 'i don't care how many times you kiss me, mister. you're not getting anything until i see you eat something.'
funny. your request just makes him want to kiss you more. 
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Muña (Aemond Targaryen x Reader)
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Summary: At the start of the Dance of the Dragons, you host a familiar face. But it is not your husband who darkens your doorstep. It is his nephew.
Warnings: Daemon haunting the narrative. Smut. Body image issues, self-esteem issues. Tully! Reader (Reddish undertone hair) Implied mommy issues. Vaginal sex. Breeding kink
A/N: I got no explanation for this. Might end up writing a part 2 if this does well.
“THERE IS a dragon at our gates.” One of your guards announces. You get up from your seat, a wave of nausea already beginning to make herself known. You would rather not face your husband. Not today. Not ever, if you are being truthful with yourself.
You have gained weight. The slim figure that you flaunted at sixteen is long gone. There is more weight in your hips and chest, a bit of softness around your middle. You know he will mock you for it.
“Open them.” You order, bracing yourself for the uncomfortable encounter. You can’t bar him entrance to what is his home too, despite him not visiting in years. “Tell him to leave the dragon there. I’ll send it some food.”
The guard bows and exits the room. One of your companions, Lady Whent, starts to pace the hall. She fears what your husband coming here might mean for you. The rumors said he had loudly proclaimed he would deal with you himself.
Your choice to keep the Riverlands out of the war effort is controversial, but predictable. Surely, no one in their right mind thought you would aid your husband install his Queen. Not even him. Not after he had left your shared home and started living in sin with her, shaming you in front of the whole realm. Yet again, no one would have called Daemon Targaryen the epitome of saneness.
You go sit on your throne, placing your embroidery aside. Your tenants are happy enough that you don’t hold court as often as the other lords. And when they are not, they still refuse to bring their problems to you unless absolutely necessary. No one wants to burden their poor lady more.
You wish they did. The days would seem less empty that way, rotting away in this castle, your house’s sigil mocking you from every corner. Family, Duty, Honor, they had promised you. None had come.
The guard comes back. You remain sitting on your throne, the one you hardly use. You intend to receive your husband from a position of power, not allow him to cower you. But when you look at the man next to the guard, your breath catches.
This man is not your husband. This man is not even one of Rhaenyra’s men.
“Lady Tully.” He says, taking a deep bow. Very respectful, which would make you doubt his relation to your husband were it not for the fact he shares his silver hair.
“Prince… Aemond.” You say, looking at his face. It’s your best guess as to his identity, considering he has a green banner and an eye patch. He wears all black, the color of House Targaryen. You stand up, and curtsy.
“My lady.”
“My husband is not here.” You say, hurriedly. It’s your first instinct. You do not want that dragon of his torching your tenants.“You are welcome to check the castle and my lands, but there is no love lost between us. I assure you I am not hiding him.”
“I know.” He answers, lips twitching into a smirk. You find nothing humorous about it, but you do not dare voice it. You do not understand what he is doing here, if not chasing after Daemon. “I understand your people… Resent him.”
“It is not our place to judge.” You say, voice firm. This man is at least ten years your junior, you will not allow him to intimidate you. No matter how he towers over you, no matter how menacing and mean his features seem. He is no Daemon Targaryen, this green boy. Your husband is the only man you had truly feared. “Only the Seven are perfect, and thus, entitled to judge others' actions.”
“Very devout.” Aemond steps closer to you, his smile widening. The way his face contorts, sharp and with too many teeth, reminds you of one of the piscivorous fishes you have seen swimming up the stream during summer. The look in their eyes is the same he sports now, right before they decide to feast on an unaware trout. “Just like us. Seems like we have a lot in common.”
You gulp. You wish you were less easy to intimidate.
“We do?”
“We do. I don’t like your husband either. The tales of his prowess have been overly exaggerated. And I do not think you are too keen on bowing to Rhaenyra, considering your marriage will be annulled.” A pair of his fingers pluck a stray curl from your up do, twirling it between his fingers. The slightly copperish undertones of it glint under the candlelight.
The threat looms in the air, uncontested by you. Both Prince Aemond and you know that Queen Rhaenyra would be dissolving your marriage as you speak, were it not for the fact that your husband and her need your lands and men for her war. Annulment in exchange for your life would be a much less cruel punishment than whatever they are cooking.
If you were a quieter woman, a less brave one, you would accept your fate. You would say your marriage had been unconsummated, that you will aid your new sovereign and your ex-husband in their war. But you won’t leave your people to their tender care. With the privileged position your lands have, they are also in the privileged position to be amongst the first to burn.
You are not so craven as to save your life in exchange for the ones of your subjects. Hence, neutrality. Hoping it will spare you. All of you.
“Do you think I want to still be married to him? After all this?” It is not enough, you see it now. With the green banner inside your hall, with the one eyed prince himself sent to rally you behind their cause. Neutrality won’t save you. You need to resist Daemon, not just sit praying he won’t attack you. The Seven know he has no such qualms.
“Perhaps we can make a widow out of you yet.” Aemond says to you, a hint of a smile making his expression turn even more menacing.
Tasting freedom on the tip of your tongue for the first time in years, you smile back.
YOU ARE on your side, Aemond thrusting into you from behind. His hand envelops your hip, greedily grasping your flesh. His other arm is under your head, serving as a pillow. For once, you are not self-conscious.
How could you be, when he had practically begged for entrance to your bed? He wanted you, and the thought of that was as thrilling as it was foreign. You hadn't broken your marriage vows ever since you took them. No man had dared voice interest, considering who your husband was.
Aemond had to convince you to get you here, and you had fumbled like a maiden every step of the way. You didn’t dare defy Daemon either. Despite your loneliness over the years, you had never taken another to your bed. No matter how tempted you had been.
When you had seen Aemond, you weren’t planning to, either. He was your good nephew, Daemon’s family. It was utterly scandalous, yet here you were.
You weren’t too sure how you had ended up into this predicament, though. One second the two of you had been making plans, your Lord Commander eager to be at his service, and the next, Aemond was crowding you against a wall and kissing you with unparalleled hunger. Your doubts had been quieted by his warm hands and eager mouth, as he forced you to writhe on his arms and try to divest him of his clothes. Perhaps he had carried you to your room then. You can’t remember, you just hope no one saw you.
“Did he fuck you like this?” He mouths at your ear, lightly biting. No matter how much you want to banish the thought of Daemon from your mind, Aemond doesn’t let you. It makes you feel guilty, breaking your self-imposed celibacy with your nephew in law, but he seems to get a secret thrill from it.
You don’t have the heart to tell him Daemon and you have only gone to bed together once. The night of your wedding.
You stay silent. His hand slides over your stomach, down to your mound. A single, long finger, slips through your folds and starts to rub circles on your pearl.
“Did my uncle ever make you peak?” Aemond asks you, still rubbing those maddening circles. You can’t think. All that is on your mind is a cloud of pleasure, warm and shameful. You shouldn’t be in bed with Daemon’s nephew. Nor should you be breaking your vows.
Aemond bites at your nape, sharply. Just like his uncle, he doesn’t take kindly to not being the center of attention.
“I asked you a question.”
“No.” You tell him, closing your eyes. Your face burns with your shame. Perhaps it is the embarrassment at your husband hating your bed so much he never visited It any longer, or perhaps it is the fact that you are breaking a vow you had really believed in. But Aemond doesn’t seem to like it, pressing soft kisses into your shoulder in an attempt to relax you.
“I'll give you one.” He promises, rubbing your pearl. His thrusting slows down, allowing the head of his member to hit deep inside you. “In my bed, you won't want for anything.”
The way he says it startles you. Dark, possessive. As if he doesn’t intend to let you go after one night, as if he intends to keep you.
“I don't belong in your bed.” You moan, trying to resist the pleasure that seems so sinful in your eyes. You clench around him despite it, not wanting him to leave your body. His free hand, the one serving as your pillow, grabs at your hair, the auburn mane as a bracelet in his pale arm. The pain of the tug only heightens your pleasure, making your body soar above the wave that threatens to crash and drag you under on the pools of hedonism.
Never before had you felt like this. In your encounter with your husband, as he huffed and puffed over you, you had only felt a quick pain and a vague feeling of shame. He had focused on his pleasure first, kicking you out of bed as soon as he was done.
But Aemond. Aemond stares at you, proud of how you unravel in his arms. He encourages you to do it, taking great delight in watching you fall apart.
“You do. With your gorgeous hair and your delicious cunt, I won't allow you to go elsewhere. You are a gift from the Mother herself.” He whispers, darkly. “I’ll worship you how you deserve, Muña.”
The last word seems to amuse him greatly, for it prompts a chuckle out of him. It’s an odd sound to hear coming from him. He seemed the kind who took himself too seriously. He licks at the shell of your ear, at your face, slobbering all over you.
It should disgust you, yet you can’t help but sigh in his arms. Surrender tastes cloyingly sweet in your mouth.
“I… Married.” You repeat, trying to get Aemond to see reason. You claw at his hands, trying to stop him from bringing you this overwhelming ecstasy that makes your body tense, and your thighs quiver. Your mind feels foggy, your wit reduced to half whimpers and softly spoken words.
“I'll wed you, and place my son on your belly.” He grins against your nape, contemplating his final triumph against Daemon. “My seed will take, where his never could. He is weak.”
“I am already married.” You repeat, a bit more firmly. Aemond laughs, rubbing at your pearl once more.
“Shhh, quiet. Quiet, Muña.” He whispers, pulling you to lie under him. He enters you in a single thrust, not giving you a moment of respite. You cry out, nails raking down his back. “I'll kill him. He is just an old man.”
You mutter something. Maybe a reply. Your lips move, incoherent, and you are screaming, the wave of pleasure finally crashing and pulling you under.
“That’s a good aunt. Squeeze your tight little cunt for me.” He grins, and you think this is it. The two of you are going to the Seven Hells.
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𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗮 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝘁𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗲 | 𝘫𝘩86 ♔
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➯ summary: jack just gets a little protective of his girl, and shows a little bit of it on the ice when he plays her ex for the first time since they started dating.
➯ warnings: fights, protective jack, reader is called a slut
➯ published: may 27, 2024
➯ notes: one of a couple fic ideas i've gatekept from you all by one of my incredible nonnies. this was inspired the picture i posted the other day so hehe. the ending is a little wonky but i think that's just something you should always expect with my fics. anyway, feel free to continue to send in fic recs, summer break is in full swing and i have found my writing passion/groove again so i'm more than happy to fulfill them! i hope you enjoy some protective jack for your late night scrolling. i love you all and I'll see you later <3 | add yourself to the taglist ➺ taglist!
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Hockey games had always been entertaining to her, or rather for her. It seemed that every time y/n showed up at any arena, any league, any game, something would happen. Whether it was a fight, going into several rounds of a shootout, or having to use an emergency goalie, something happened at them. And this time was no different.
Sure she had been to multiple games of Jack’s before, but usually he wasn’t the cause of the chaos. She had noticed he had been a little on edge the whole night, period after period. While she couldn’t necessarily see his face from where she was sitting (unless they zoomed in on it of course), she could tell by the way he played and the way he stood during breaks that something was off. 
Jack had begged her to come to a came, she hadn’t been to one in a couple of months due to their schedule and her work. She was a bit reluctant at first, this would be her first game while dating Jack and they would be playing the Avalanche. The first time she would have to see her ex and her boyfriend play each other in person. 
He too was hesitant, but her being there definitely outweighed the risks of her and Cale running into each other. She gave in as soon as he turned his puppy dog eyes on her, they both knew once she saw them it was hard to resist them. She threw on her jersey and met up with a few of her friends to go to the game. She opted not to sit with the other wives and girlfriends today, wanting to blend into the crowd a little. 
Her friends made conversation throughout the game with her, also noticing Jack’s weird behavior. Her closest friend, one of the ones that was there through the breakup with Cale, nudged her about halfway through the third period, “Look.”
Y/n moved her eyes to where Charlotte was pointing, they narrowed as they zoned in on Cale and Jack standing close to each other by the Devils net. She went to shrug it off but could see how Jack’s head cocked to the side and tensed his shoulders. Then they skated away from each other as the puck escaped Nathan’s grasp. 
“It was probably nothing.”
She wished that statement was true. In reality, Cale had been chirping at the younger boy the whole game. It started as nothing, plain banter that he would hear at any game he went to. Then it turned into the common, “Pretty boy hockey player” chirps. While he wasn’t affected by it, he could tell that he wouldn’t stop and that’s what bothered him. 
Cale’s last defense to get the boy railed up came during the third, 10 minutes before the game ended. The first one wasn’t enough to get Jack wound up, maybe a little ticked off, sure. The allusion to his girlfriend made his anger rise. The second time, however, was a much different story. 
It was three minutes until the game ended, three minutes that y/n clutched tightly to one of her friends’ hands, praying that they would not only win but Jack would get out of there unharmed and the fight that she had thought was going to happen wouldn’t. Yet, as soon as Jack heard her name leave his mouth and he was pushed forward, his stick dropped and he turned around, anger blinding his mind. 
She wasn’t exactly sure what either of them said, more unsure of what Cale had said to cause the action. Jack’s words sounded something along the lines of, “What the fuck did you say about her?” And she knew, she hated that she knew, but she did. Jack was never able to keep control when someone said anything even remotely hurtful to or about her. 
The gloves dropped next and she gasped in surprise when she saw Jack’s fist meet Cale’s jaw. She had never seen Jack fight, at least not this much. There was the little incident in which he lost his tooth but she was never allowed to call it a fight, Jack forbade her to (though, she and Luke still did to everyone but him). 
She couldn’t decide if she should watch in awe, surprise, fear, or anger. And she wasn’t sure if she should be allowed to find it mildly attractive at the way Jack’s hair fell out of his helmet and his lip was bleeding slightly. The refs finally pulled them apart, the Devils bench going wild at him fighting for once in his life. 
After the game, she stood with some of the wives and girlfriends, her friends long gone by then. It took Jack a little longer to come out, and when he did she stopped her conversation with Nicole and turned to look at him. He only held out his hand as he kept his gaze down. She slipped her hand into his and smiled politely at the remaining group of women before letting herself be pulled away to Jack’s car. 
The car ride was silent the whole way back to their apartment. There were plenty of times that she wanted to reach out, ask him what happened, simply hold his hand, or run a hand through his hair, but she held it back in fear of causing a fight between them. Halfway into the drive, his right hand slid from the steering wheel and made its way over to her thigh, resting comfortably. 
She looked down and saw the small cuts and a few bruises that littered his knuckles. She used her hands to trace them, Jack’s hand tightening at the feeling. That’s how they spent the rest of the ride, Jack’s hand on her thigh occasionally squeezing it out of whatever emotion he had been feeling, her hand tracing shapes along his arm and on his hand, and in silence. 
When they arrived home, she was starting to get fed up, the silence was too much for her. She closed the door behind the two of them and stood with her arms crossed as she watched Jack maneuver around the apartment. Jack was hoping he would be able to escape the night without any word of the game at all, but just like her prayers weren’t heard before, his weren’t either. 
“Stop.”
Jack halted in the hallway between the living room and their bedroom. He turned to face her, slightly nervous, “What happened?”
He shook his head but stopped once he saw the look plastered on her face. He was in deep and utter shit. 
“Jack Rowden Hughes, you better tell me what happened. Why did the two of you fight?”
“He said shit about you.”
She quirked an eyebrow, unable to make out his words due to his mumbling. He sighed and spoke up, “He said something about you.”
She stepped closer to him, within arms reach. She tilted her head in confusion, “What did he say?”
Once again his words came out mumbled and she rolled her eyes in annoyance, huffing, “Speak up Jack.”
“He called you a slut, okay!” Her eyes widened in surprise, though neither of them was sure if it was because of what Cale had said or because of Jack’s yelling. 
“Oh.”
“Oh?”
“I thought he said something worse.” She shrugged and moved to walk to their bedroom, seemingly done with this conversation. 
“Hold on, wait a minute.” Jack’s hand grabbed her arm and spun her around, “What do you mean you thought he said something worse?”
“What? I meant what it sounded like. With the way you reacted, I thought he would've said something way worse than calling me a slut, Jack.” She smiled, trying to alleviate his anger.
“He hasn’t called you that before has he?”
Her smile turned down and so did her gaze, now focused on his hands. Jack lifted her chin, his right index finger resting underneath it, “Has he?”
She nodded, eyes trained to the wall behind him, “Jesus, y/n/n.”
“What?”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t think it was important.”
“Didn’t think it was- he called you a slut, y/n.”
“So? I know I’m not and you know I’m not and everyone else knows I’m not. Why does it matter what he thinks?”
“Because he shouldn’t be calling you that.” He wrapped his arms around her tightly. 
She sighed and reciprocated the hug, “It doesn’t bother me, Jack, so it shouldn’t bother you.”
“But it does, baby.” He pulled away from her to cup her face with his hands, “If someone talks shit about you it’s going to bother me. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“I’m fine, Jacky. I promise you. You just get a little protective don’t you?” Her hand wrapped around one of his wrists and she smiled at him. 
Jack’s smile that he gave her was smaller than hers but she loved it all the same. Her gaze dropped a little to his split lip, “I wasn’t sure if I should’ve been turned on or not when you were fighting. I think my worry clouded my judgment.”
He smirked and raised an eyebrow, “Oh really?”
“Mhm.”
She traced his lip with her thumb before kissing him. He groaned in return at the sudden action but kissed her back immediately. They pulled away a minute later, both slightly breathless, “Should I fight more often?”
His one hand moved to push a strand of hair out of her face, “If it’s hot like that, yeah.”
“Oh so you find fighting hot, do you?” His hands wrapped around her waist, moving her closer. 
She giggled slightly before raising an eyebrow, “Why did you think I dated a defenseman?”
“Too soon, baby. Too soon.” He dipped his head to kiss her again, but this time it ended with them in the bedroom. 
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⇘ 𝙉𝙚𝙬 𝙅𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙚𝙮 𝙏𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩 ⇙
if your name is crossed out it means i couldn't tag you
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hyhkai · 1 day
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∾ manwhore, mansplain, manipulate | sb
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[ 🐬 ] — after having the displeasure of meeting the most annoying, son of a- nevermind, mansplaining cockalorum of your college, who you couldn't have figured to be the pervert type, and who you realize is also a dunce after he won't leave you alone though your annoyance was always written on your face, it's clear, it's obvious he'll only get shoo'ed away at one cost. or at least you think he will, since you've had enough of his bitchy attitude.
cw : PUBLIC, arguing, annoying clingy soobin, soobin's personality in this is quite the opposite from his real one, handjob, degrading crazy amounts.
a/n ; DO BLEACHERS EVEN HAVE SPACES BEHIND THEM, in this they do I couldn't care less, fuck, the title is the male version of gaslight gatekeep girlboss, and I totally made this plot on the spot while writing please.
you almost slammed the pen down onto the desk in a class so quiet that you could hear the clock ticking if paid attention to enough, looking behind after soobin poked at your back for the third time this class. "what. just what is it that you want from me?"
"nothing." he said, placing his head down on his own desk. those eyes may be doe, but they're like a siren to fucking run.
this is the kind of boy who makes you feel special, then ghosts you.
the cute kind of those, too.
"then don't poke me like that" you mumbled, turning your head ahead. you swear if it was possible for you to punch him if he even tried to talk to you during this class again, you would.
he's always been so... desperate, it's that he wants something from you but won't say it out loud, won't use his calculated words.
"y/n," to which he got no response, so he resorted to shaking your chair.
"what the f-" you looked back at him, a look of disappointment, anger and annoyance all over. "fuck off."
"I wish." he mumbled, looking into your eyes with no regret of what he just said.
"oh, wow." you said, and smiled without wanting to. "you're crazy."
"i know, right?" he shook his head in sarcastic thought. "I am kind of crazy."
"now please if you stay quiet, l could pay attention." and to your surprise, he stayed quiet throughout the entirety of what was left of the class. no poking, no chanting your name like a mantra. but it was not a reaction you'd usually get from soobin, he's always been the guy to fuck around with no remorse. and that is, very obvious, he is a dunce.
he's dunce enough to not even realize he is one.
class done, bag packed — you just wanted to get out and go back to your house, eat and sleep like you'd usually do, or like to do. but, alas, there was one thing hindering your peace and happiness — choi soobin. this one heck of a man who would fuck any object that is a good fleshlight alternative, a man who'd be happy from just fingering you.
and that, to you, is a problem.
how can a guy, with a face like that — a build like that, keep on poking and poking and poking at you until you've had enough and slap him across the face, just to get off on it? it's asinine.
so when you're walking out of the building, annoyed that your bag's strap keeps falling off your shoulder — and you spot him on the bleachers, there's one thing you make a mental note of.
change your route to the exit, please.
he almost jumped three stairs down when he saw you, lollipop clung onto his mouth's roof as he swirled it around.
"hey!" he lifted his hand in the air as a way of waving at you.
the loser's back at it again.
you didn't even look, didn't even glance at his figure that can only be described as perfect as he grabbed your bag. it got snatched right away because of just how loose you kept it on your shoulders.
"i said hey." he said again, looking at your exasperated, pretty face when you turned around.
"give that back, loser." you retorted, turning around, your head tilting forward with every word.
"sorry, what?" he said, putting a hand behind his ear to hear you better.
the fucker is now mocking your height? he is mocking your height? him?
"i said, give that back." you said, closing your eyes for a while so you can imagine smacking his face. "give me my bag back."
he laughed at your demands, looking in the direction of the building and right back at you.
"no"
you didn't realize before this that a single word can also hold so much meaning and depict just how much of an absolute motherfucker a man can be.
"no? no?! seriously?!" you looked up at his face that was only giving you realization after realization that he's a slutty bitch. "what do you want from me?"
he suckled on his candy for a while, looking as if in deep thought. but to no surprise with his next statement. "not much, really."
oh really now? not much? it's so obvious since the day he saw you, that in his mind he thought it won't be long until he's going to have you in his lap. is that not too much to ask for?
"just a bit of your time, is all." he continued, looking at the badges pinned on the front of your bag.
“You can’t for one second act like a man can you? You're such a cunt!” you feel like you could rip out your hair with how frustrating he's being. with the amount of cockiness he thinks he's so cool to be binding his personality with, you could beat him up with no regrets. "what do you want from me?! attention? tutoring? pussy?—"
"yeah."
"what?" your face contorted when he responded to the word that was merely a mockery of his wants and needs. "huh." you clicked your tongue. of course your assumptions about him only wanting to get his fill were true.
you grabbed his arm and pushed him further back, until the two of you were behind the bleachers. he didn't react to your very aggressive methods of traveling until you stopped.
"what the fuck are you doin—" he attempted at a protest as he dropped your bag to the ground, but was ultimately shut up with you pulling his head down vehemently and crashing your lips against his, and even though you're the one who initiated the kiss, his response is more enthusiastic than any guy you've ever gotten with — and it's so sloppy, it's unexpected from a boy with lips as plush as his.
maybe it's wrong to do this, maybe it's right, but it's the only way to stop this boy who's been wanting to fuck you for months now. "is this what you wanted? huh?" you asked, looking up at him, his locks of hair between your fingers as he looked at you with lips parted. you took advantage of his state, putting your thumb in his mouth, pressing against his tongue.
"hng—" his hand, as if by ultra instinct, crawled to your waist. maybe it's a form of affection, or maybe he's a desperate slut. "who told you you could touch me with your crusty hands?"
he sucks and licks on them, surprising you as you feel his tongue swirl…fuck, how badly did you misread him? he's liking it?
he couldn't respond, this wasn't the way he'd expected to end up today at all — but hey, he isn't complaining. you rubbed your knee against his crotch, pinning him against the back of the bleachers.
please, someone don't be here.
"keep your mouth open." he was holding back his urge to bite down onto your thumb, as the stiffness of his body finally gave out and he stood straight up. you fed him your index finger, pressing your knee against his crotch again, rubbing as your brain went airplane mode. this isn't the best way to stop his bullshit, no, but you like it this way. him, on the other hand? he loves it this way, the slut is just too shy to admit it.
"awh, the manwhore is too shy to talk back now?" you pulled your fingers out, bubbles and strings of saliva on the pads of your fingers when your hands slipped into his pants after unzipping them, and you felt just how horny he can get in a span of a few minutes. he's enjoying this.
"um, so— holy shit— wh—” hes stumbling over his words. his hands are limp to protest against you, and his cock is too hard for him to protest against you.
you clasp your hand over his mouth, weakly, but he stills shuts up his ramble and jumble of words, blinking at you from above, with those god damn pretty eyes.
"shut up. just shut up. i bet you jerk off your stupid dick all night thinking about me, fucking whore."
his eye twitched at the statement, but he still does. "please fuck me." he requested while being muffled and jumbled.
"I am," you said as a matter of fact, tugging at his cock slowly. "I'm touching you, soobin."
"but, not completely." and this just showed how much of a demanding brat he is, not satisfied with the bare minimum friction he's getting.
"tch, tch, such a desperate man. aren't you happy a girl like me is touching your disgusting dick?" pressing your thumb on his tip to which his eye twitched, trying to grab your wrist to stop the pressure.
You could feel his breath on your neck—hot and heavy, which makes you feel things, to your demise — makes you wet, as you moved his hand out of the way for you, and after slight resistance, he pathetically lets you, followed by a whimper following shortly after when you start to slowly palm him. The moment you feel it twitched, you halt your movement, removing your hand from his crotch all together.
"h-hah.. h-huh? yeahh... yeah— fuck, please please, touch it properly, please—" he finally broke, letting out a whine he wishes you didn't hear, but judging by the smirk on your face, you definitely did. and it was hot— fuck, it was the sexiest thing he's ever done.
"ugh, I don't have all day for this." you shook your head, stretching the waistline of his bottoms forward and shoving you hands down again.
"holy fuuccck." he whispered, marvelling at the touch of your nails on the underside of his tip.
you twisted your hand as you jerked at his tip, causing his knees to bend an inch and his hips to buckle, closing his eyes shut. "shut the fuck up, soobin. don't need any student hearing you getting your cock jerked off, do we?" to which he mindlessly nodded, his head thrown back against the harsh metal that's probably heated up from the summer rays.
"fuck, fuck, fuck," he cursed under his breath, head tilting side to side every now that then, his chest heaving up and down. you squeezed his dick with your palm, causing his eyelids to squeeze. this sight has your panties in a bunch, but you can't show him that.
you press harder, his breaths knocked out of him, a slight squeak by the end that has his ears turning red and heated. you looked down at the sight of your hands shoved down his denims. "hah, do you not know when to stop annoying a girl? when to quit with your antics, and be a good boy? do you have no shame?” you mock, feeding his desire to be degraded that you're sure he has from the way he's reacting.
"is this— fuck, h-hah, is this the way you put all annoying guys in their place?" he questioned, managing to flutter his eyes open. he looked at you from the corner of his eye, trying to hide his face that was turning pink.
you laughed at the question, still looking down, index finger nudging his balls. "maybe it is. will that stop you from being an absolute annoying slut? will it?"
he couldn't respond, of course he couldn't — he's busy marvelling at the feeling of your warm, soft hands so all he could do was shake his head vehemently in a no.
what a slut!
"of course it wouldn't, pathetic whores like you only think from their dicks. you're a shameless bitch, soobin."
he couldn't protest, couldn't respond to the insults thrown at him — he's breathing is so messed up now his back is rubbing up and down the metal. "I'm gonna— I'm—" and he came in his pants, which will surely be a disaster for him to wash out afterwards.
you pulled your hand out, disguising your arousal with disgust at the sight of cum on your fingers, which you scrubbed off on the pockets of his pants, lifting your bag off the ground and throwing it on your shoulder. "keep being annoying."
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i can write a whole fic explaining why I should give up on writing. okay goodbye. thank you for reading my garbage <3
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yuukiiqwq · 3 days
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My Love, My Light, My One and Only 🩵
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"Hey, what got you looking so gloomy?" You look up as you heard a familiar voice call you. Sitting in front of you was Satoru looking all carefree like nothing has happened.
"You're an idiot," you say after staring at him for a while. "You're so annoying."
Satoru looked offended before he started to laugh. "That's the first thing you say to me after everything?"
"Shut your big mouth," you grumbled. How can he be so carefree when your heart is breaking for the second time? "I hate your voice, I hate your laugh, I hate your hair, I hate your eyes, I hate your smile, I hate everything about you."
Satoru opened his mouth to say something, but you didn't let him get a word in. "I hate how much I love you, how much I adore you, how much my heart aches for you. I hate your dazzling, beautiful eyes. I hate how fluffy and soft your hair looks. I hate how your laugh and smile make my heart skip a beat. I hate how much I desire you and just you."
Your vision was getting blurry, and you felt the tears streaming down your face, but you continued– "It's not fair. What was that stupid death of yours? You're so stupid! Don't you want to live? You should have stayed alive! I would rather the world burn down in flames if you just stayed alive. If you just stayed with me. I hate how much I love you."
Satoru stayed silent as you continued your endless amount of insult towards him, not saying a word until you finished.
"Do you regret it?" He asked, voice no higher than a whisper.
You looked at him, offended that he would even think that. "Regret? No, I don't." You mumbled to him. "I don't regret it. I never will."
A small smile dawns his face as he tells you– "I want you to be happy. Even without me. Because I'm not real. I'm just a fictional character on screen, a part of someone's imagination. A part of your imagination.
You shake your head at him. "You are real to me, Satoru. You may not be standing in front of me, but you are real to me. You've taken my heart and left a hole that can never be mended. No one can ever replace what you are to me." You look him in his bright dazzling blue eyes– "I'm not ready to let you go. I'm selfish, I'm greedy, I want you to stay with me. Even if you're happy with your end, I want you to stay. I don't want to let you go."
"You don't have to let me go. I live on in here," he points at where your heart is. "I'll always live on in there. If you don't forget, I'll always be there. Until the bitter end."
You chuckled at him and wiped away your tears. "Hey, Satoru?"
"Hm?" He hummed in response.
"You've always been just Satoru to me. Always will be. I love you. You are my love, my light, my one and only. I wish for you to continue smiling, laughing, forever being happy. To continue being the lovable you without anything shouldering you down. I love you for all of eternity. For an infinity."
His eyes widened at your declaration before softening. He doesn't say it back, but his eyes were shining, filled with adoration for your love to him and a soft smile on his lips.
Time was almost up, so you asked one last question. A question that means everything to you. "Are you happy now?"
And once again, he doesn't answer, but his expression speaks a million words. The last thing you see was his signature boyish, bright smile on his face before he disappeared, leaving you alone once more.
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muzsmoux · 19 hours
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Parent teacher conferences at Tokyo Jujutsu High except it's Gojo forcing Megumi to sit and listen while he's having an in depth conversation about his progress with himself.
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I'd like to believe - Lewis Hamilton
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Alternative sequel to Maybe in another life / When I get to meet you
pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!
warnings: mentions of mourning, angst, will make you emotional
wordcount: +1K
a/n: Alternative-ish ending (this was actually my first draft to continue their story, so the happy-ish one is the alternative, sort of).
As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!
MILD TRIGGERING CONTENT UNDER, PROCEED WITH CAUTION.
______________________________________________________________
My dearest little one,
Today marks ten years since you should have been here, celebrating another year of life. Ten times the snow has fallen, making everything quiet outside.
They say time heals all cuts, but some cuts go real deep, leaving scars that never quite go away. And I still find it hard to believe that a whole decade has passed.
You'd be so grown now, so full of life and curiosity, brimming with questions and dreams. I often wonder what you'd be like – would you have my stubbornness and determination, or your mother's grace and patience?
Maybe a beautiful blend of both, creating someone truly unique.
I’m going to visit your stone again later today. Leave this letter like every year. I suspect there’ll be fresh flowers, as always, probably from your mother.
She never forgets.
We never reconnected, not like I'd hoped for. But I think about her often.
I searched everywhere for her. I just really needed someone to share the pain with, someone to hold onto while everything fell apart. We tried talking, spilling out all our feelings, but the words wouldn't come out right. Maybe we were afraid of saying the wrong thing or making things worse.
Maybe we were both thinking the same thing – maybe if we'd done things differently, maybe you'd still be here.
After a while, the space between us just kept getting bigger, too big to cross. You see, your mom, she found a way to move on. She built a life for herself, a life where the pain was still there, but it didn't control her anymore.
I hope she's found peace and happiness, something she deserved more than anyone. She was an incredible woman, and I wish I had been the man she needed me to be.
I hope she reads these letters someday, that she understands how much I loved you both, how much I regret not being there when you needed me most.
Maybe one day, when the weight of these years starts to feel a little lighter, I can finally forgive myself.
Maybe then, I can find the strength to reach out to her, not to get back together, but to find some peace, a simple way to say thank you for the love we shared and sorry for the loss that tore us apart.
You know, life has changed quite a bit since I last wrote to you.
I'm with someone, have been for the past four years. She's patient, kind and knows about you. I don't think we'll ever have children though. She's got her own ghosts.
I retired from racing. Shortly after I won my eighth championship with Ferrari. It was a dream come true, but also bittersweet because I couldn't share it with you. I work as a consultant for the team now, just like Niki was for me at Mercedes. You’d have loved him.
It's a different kind of thrill, guiding the next generation of racers, helping them navigate the same challenges I once faced, but it drives me forward.
I’d like to believe you’d be proud of your old man for that.
I sometime wonder if you would have been drawn to racing too, or maybe you'd have found your passion in something entirely different. Whatever it might have been, I would have supported you every step of the way and with all my heart.
I think about the things you'd enjoy often; you know?! The hobbies and interests you'd develop.
Maybe you'd love music, like your mother. She had an incredible ear for it, always humming a tune or singing softly to herself. It’s what got us close in the first place so many years ago.
Perhaps you'd have a knack for building things, creating something out of nothing with your hands and imagination.
Either way, I hope you'd have found joy in the simple things, just like I try and do now.
There's so much I wish I could’ve shared with you. So many lessons I've learned the hard way and would to show you. Life isn't always easy, my little one. It's filled with ups and downs, triumphs and failures.
One of the most important things I wish I could’ve taught you is the value of love. Real love, the kind that fills your heart and soul, and is worth every bit of pain and sacrifice.
I had that with your mother, even if I didn't realize it at the time. She saw right through me, saw the man behind the driver, and loved me for who I was. I'd hope you'd find someone like that, someone who understands and loves you unconditionally.
It might hurt sometimes, but that's how you know it's real. Love isn't always easy, but it's the most beautiful thing.
I would want you to know that it's okay to make mistakes though. I made plenty, and each one taught me something valuable. The key is to learn from them, to grow and become a better person. But each moment, whether good or bad, shapes who you are.
I wish I could have been there to guide you through it all, to help you navigate the challenges and celebrate the victories. My motto has been “Still I Rise” for the longest time and if you wanted it could’ve been yours as well.
Life isn't about being perfect; it's about being true to yourself and striving to be the best version of you.
In the quieter moments I still dream about you, you know. In my dreams, you're a whirlwind of energy, your laughter filling the air. We go on adventures, explore the world together. I teach you what I know, and you teach me about everything else.
Those dreams are my sanctuary, a place where we can be together, even if just for a moment.
Sometimes, I catch myself talking to you out loud, as if you were right beside me. I tell you about my day, about the races, about the world. It might sound silly, but it brings me comfort. It's my way of keeping you close, of making sure you're never forgotten.
Even though we never got to meet, you are a part of me, and I carry you in my heart every day.
You are my greatest loss, but also my greatest gift. You've taught me more about love than anything else in this world.
Sometimes, under a sky full of stars, I imagine you up there with the constellations, looking down at me with curious eyes. And I need you to know that we love you still, deeply and unconditionally.
Ten years old. A whole person with your own personality, dreams, and wishes.
The world missed out on knowing you, and so did I.
But your memory, my precious child, it lives on. It lives on in the way I cherish every moment, every sunrise, every laugh shared with a friend. It lives on in the way I try to be a better person, kinder, someone who would have been a good dad to you.
This letter is my vow written down. A promise that even though you're not here, you'll never be forgotten.
Happy birthday, my sweet child. I hope, wherever you are, you're smiling, knowing that you are loved and cherished.
You are my light, my angel and a part of me. And though the path I walk may be lonely sometimes, I carry you and your mom with me in my heart, always.
With all the love that would have filled a lifetime.
Dad.
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ithebookhoarder · 16 hours
Note
It's completely fine if you don't do this but I loved your Colin one, so can you do how the other brothers would react if they found out you were pregnant??!?!?!?!
Unexpectedly Expecting (Anthony / Benedict Bridgerton x AFAB!reader):
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A/N: Thank you for sending this in! I'm combining this with another request - I hope that's ok? 👇 As both were on a similar track, but I can always do more later on this because who doesn't love imagining the Bridgerton boys with little ones?! 🥰
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Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy, mentions of childbirth, references to doctors and medical professionals, pregnancy symptoms like nausea and morning sickness, mentions of trouble conceiving a child, sex references, swearing, blood (let me know if I missed any!).
Masterlist:
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Anthony Bridgerton:
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As Viscount Anthony would likely be expecting to have children and heirs of his own and yes, it would be a concern if you weren’t falling pregnant as a couple. However, I think it upsets him more than anything because of how upsetting it is for you. He loves you and seeing you beating yourself up and making yourself sick with worry is heartbreaking. 
He has so many siblings and they have children so the Bridgerton estate and line will continue, he soothes, hoping it would take some pressure off of yourself. If you fall pregnant then that would be a blessing, but you weren’t a failure. In fact, for all he knows, he could be the issue. It’s impossible to be certain either way and he would never let you take that on yourself. Any arguments you’d have would be about that and nothing else. 
“If you think I will sit here and allow you to abuse yourself in such a way then you are sorely mistaken, my love-“
“-You don’t understand, Anthony! This is my fault. Even if you do not agree. To society, to the rest of the world, the blame will lay solely on me! That’s all that matters!” 
“No! You are all that matters and I will not allow you to keep torturing yourself this way. We will stop, do you hear me? No more talk of heirs or blame or anything to do with the subject. Let us just enjoy our life as it is for now. The future is unimportant.” 
Violet would side with Anthony, as would all his siblings. They love you too and want you to be happy - even if Violet does offer some tips and insights on ways one could assist with falling pregnant, but only at your request.
Still, when you’re not with child months later you start to lose hope. 
It gets worse as more of the Bridgerton siblings start getting married and falling pregnant. They would never rub it in your face, but it doesn’t make it any less painful when you see them or their partners caressing their bumps or discussing what names they could choose.  
You’d wish them well, obviously, but inside you feel like you’re dying. Even Anthony holding you close and pressing a comforting kiss against your cheek does nothing to raise your spirits. 
With each passing day you become just a little more certain that you’re not destined to have a child… which is why you’re utterly stunned when you miss your monthly bleed - not once, but twice… 
You didn’t say anything at first, obviously worried that it was just delayed from your recent stress. However, when it happens again you start to dare to hope for the impossible and you’re all but racing to get a physician to confirm the diagnosis. 
As soon as you do, you’re racing straight back to your husband to share the good news. You don’t care if he is in a meeting, at his club, with his family or even in the middle of the street. You still sprint to his side and blurt the news for everyone to hear.
The tears are instantaneous, as is the cheer of delighted disbelief he gives, throwing his arms about you and spinning you around until you’re both dizzy. “This… this is the greatest blessing we could have received, my love. I’m so happy… we’re going to be parents? We’re having a child?… oh, lord. We’re having a child.”
This man has been acting as a father to his siblings for so long you have no problem imagining him taking to the role like a duck to water. That doesn’t mean he wouldn’t be scared out of his mind to think of the responsibility of raising a child of his own. 
You can expect this man to be badgering his mother with a never ending list of questions - heck, he’d even swallow his pride and ask Simon and Daphne for advice if it came to it. After all, ‘if Hastings can do it, it can’t be too difficult’.
You’re laughing too hard to even try and correct him.
This man would be so protective of you whilst you were pregnant - especially after the troubles you’ve had getting to this point. 
“I really think you ought to have a maid accompany you when you journey to and fro. I should hate for something to happen to you."
“Anthony, I’m only going for a walk around the garden!”
“But still-“
Anything you could possibly need he has already bought three of them. No expense is spared for you and your unborn child - including summoning doctors from their beds in the middle of the night if you even think something might be wrong with either you or the baby. 
Speaking of doctors, he would fight anybody who tried to banish him from your side when the time comes. He and his mother, should you wish her there, would be at your side the whole time. They would be your biggest cheerleaders and would do whatever they could to ensure you were cared for and supported, whether it be mopping your brow, holding you as you pace around, or advocating for you against any doctor who tries to violate your wishes about the birth. 
And when you are finally handed a crying, wrinkled, cherub with Anthony’s eyes… well, it’s all worth it. You have never felt a love as pure as this, except for when you met Anthony, and nothing can ruin such a perfect moment. 
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Benedict Bridgerton:
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Benedict would be so calm about possibly having children with you. If you do have children, then they will be loved and adored - obviously. But if you don’t? Then that doesn’t matter. It means you two can continue your adventures together for a while longer, travelling wherever your heart desires, visiting galleries and indulging in your bohemian lifestyle with all your friends.
You have your freedom - even more so now that you’re married. Society doesn’t care what you do now that you’re no longer on the marriage mart. It’s liberating, and any pressure to produce heirs comes from only you or your loved ones, so it’s non-existent.  
However, if you did want children then Benedict would be more than eager to help create them… and get creative about doing so. 
“Benedict! That is not how a child is conceived… no wonder you’re a student of the arts. The academy of science would never admit you with such a lack of understanding about basic anatomy!”
“You’re right, my dear, but you have to admit - this is a hell of a lot more fun.” 
He would be nothing but supportive of you and so gentle every time your monthly bleed approached, especially if nothing happens. He understands how your hopes rise and how hard it hits you when you realise it hasn’t yet worked. He’d never insult you or diminish your feelings. 
If anything, he would be quick to shoulder any possible blame, refusing to let you even begin to suggest that it has anything to do with you or your body. You are perfect. End of - and he’ll fight anyone who suggests otherwise. 
“You can’t rush things, angel. After all, the best things are worth the time and effort. Michelangelo took over four years to finish the Sistine Chapel, and Da Vinci sixteen years to paint the Mona Lisa. Some things are worth the wait… and if it doesn’t happen how we wish, then we’re already creating something so beautiful between us. Our family will be perfect, no matter how it looks, how it comes about, or even when it does.”
And when it does? Well, then you’ve never seen him look so happy, tears pouring from his eyes as you confirm the good news.
You also fear for a moment that he’s about to swoon, he goes so pale and he even starts to breath heavily as he paces back and forth, muttering ‘I… I’m going to be a father? A father? Me?’. His imposter syndrome would hit him with full force and it would take several weeks for him to process it enough to calm down and be excited rather than terrified. However, he’d never have been anything other than positive towards you. You know it’s his love for your unborn child that makes him panic about being a good father.  
Also, he would be SO supportive once you are expecting. He would be there holding your hair back if you felt nauseous and bringing you endless cups of tea without you even asking. 
He wouldn’t complain in the slightest about staying in with you, rather than going to whatever social events his family had organised. As he argued, it gave him ample time to finish whatever piece he was working on next and he got to keep you company in the meantime. 
I just feel he’d paint something for the baby, whether it be a piece to hang on the wall of the nursery, or the wall of the nursery itself. You’d find him stood in front of the nursery wall, covered in paint, but beaming ear to ear. 
“It’s beautiful, Benedict.”
“Well, our baby should be allowed to enjoy the full beauty of a spectrum of colours, rather than just ‘white’ on the walls - and the sooner they begin to understand the art of composition, the better in my opinion.”
You would also be receiving gifts from all your artistically minded friends, which is heart-warming. They’d crown them their newest ‘little liberal’ and would devote themselves to ensuring your off-spring would have a well-rounded eduction about the higher arts of life - something Benedict is keen to endorse.  
“When are they not ‘too young’ to have an art tutor?” 
“Maybe wait till they can hold a paint brush first, Benedict.” 
“What about poetry?”
“Again, I think they should probably learn the alphabet before we try them on Wordsworth or Donne.” 
Given what he says in his book I know he’d secretly want a girl but you know that as long as it’s happy and healthy then that would be enough. After all, it would be yours, made from your love in a living, breathing creation greater than any painting or sculpture. 
He would be awe struck when you hand them to him, afraid he might break them somehow. He would just sit and stare at them for hours, admiring them like the finest sculpture.
“I promise to be the best possible father you could ever want, my love. I will do whatever I can to protect you and make you, and your mother, feel cherished. I won’t let you down… even if you turn out like most of your Uncles and have no idea what the difference is between a sonata and a sonnet.”  
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fluffysucker · 1 day
Text
Once every few lifetimes.
Bucky Barnes x Reader
The prophecy was redone.
A/N: Written in Third POV. No use of Y/N. However, the reader is referred to as a female.Likes, comments, reblogs are VERY VERY highly appreciated. Opinions really matter to me
This could be avenger!Bucky or an AU. Whatever you like and fit your imagination
This idea sounded so good in my mind. Hopefully, it turned out fine. Please, tell me if you catch the many songs references in here
Main Masterlist
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You knew you shouldn't be out here. You should be in the king-sized bed in your hotel room. You should be sleeping so you didn't miss your flight tomorrow.
But you couldn't. Even if you wanted, you wouldn't be able to. You had to do it.
The streets were empty. There was barely anyone out at this hour. Only you and a few people getting back home after a party. It was the weekend, after all.
You made it to your destination. You looked at the famous momentum. You had been here earlier this week. But at night, it was different.
There was no crowd. It was barely lit, with only the moonlight shining above it. You took in everything about the landmark. The perfectly sculptured statues. The ancient buildings behind it. The stones around it. The clear water. Everything about it, right now, felt holy.
You took small steps until you were standing right in front of it. You touched the stones at the end, moving your fingers over them slowly. The stones were worn out. Signs of age and afflictions showing.
You smiled pathetically when your fingers greased the two names with a heart between them craved on one of the stones. Their wish must have been to stay together forever.
You wished for that, too. You wish you had stayed together. You wish he would have come with you. You wish this was the trip of your dreams, like you had always planned. You wish he hadn't broken up with you at the airport minutes before your flight. You wish he would have told you earlier.
You wished your boyfriend of three years hadn't chosen your sister over you.
You wished the man who you thought was the love of your life, the man who you thought was the one, the man who you thought loved you, would have chosen you.
You wish anyone would have chosen you.
Hand on the throttle
Thought I caught lightning in a bottle
Oh, but it's gone again
And it was written
I got cursed like Eve got bitten
Oh, was it punishment?
You wiped the tear that slipped your eyes quickly, wishing the two strangers all the love and happiness in the world, hoping that at least someone had good luck.
You sat on one of the stones, letting your fingers dance in the water. You could see the large number of coins at the bottom. You thought about the lovers who made the wish to stay together forever. You thought about the lovers who got to experience this beautiful city together. You thought about all the trips, get-togethers, proposals, and honeymoons that happen in this city.
Tears gathered in your eyes as you thought about how your dreams were ruined. You thought about how you got back here again. You thought it would never happen. You thought you were finally someone's first choice.
You were wrong.
For the past week, you acted like nothing happened. You ignored all the phone calls trying to reach you and talk about it. You tried to enjoy the trip you had been crafting to perfection for years. You tried not to think about it.
But as you were lying in the hotel's bed after packing your bags, you couldn't help it anymore. That was how you found yourself here in the middle of the night.
The Trevi Fountain
During your tour earlier this week, the Italian tour guide told everyone how all wishes made on this mountain were granted. You laughed when the locals agreed with him. Every country has its own myth. Apparently, that was Italy's
But you were hopeless.
I guess a lesser woman would've lost hope.
A greater woman wouldn't beg.
You brought a coin out of the pocket in your jacket. You stood up and looked at the many statues.
Everything was finally hitting you. For a moment, you felt numb. You thought it was a dream that would end once you were back. But you knew you were waking up to a nightmare.
You were going to be back to the fact that your boyfriend and your sister had been seeing and sleeping together for a year now. The fact that your man and your own blood played you for a fool and betrayed you. The fact that the two closest people to you decided to work on their relationship after stabbing you in the back.
What could be worse than that? The fact that you didn't know how to move on. The fact that you almost slipped many times and sent them pictures during this trip. The fact that you still wanted them.
Cards on the table
Mine play out like fools in a fable, oh
It was sinking in.
Slow is the quicksand.
Poison blood from the wound of the pricked hand
Oh, still, I dream of him.
It was painful to think how, after many failed relationships, Josh, your ex-boyfriend, was supposed to be it. He was supposed to be your forever. He was the one you complained to about the tragedies of your love life. And he promised to be your fairytale ending.
But here you were. Alone. All alone.
The knife was driven so deep into your heart that you didn't know where it didn't hurt. Too many emotions invading your being.
You wanted to scream so loudly and let the pain out. But you couldn't. Because you were drained. You were sad. You were disappointed.
And I sound like an infant.
Feeling like the very last drops of an ink pen
A greater woman stays cool.
But I howl like a wolf at the moon.
And I look unstable.
Gathered with a coven around a sorceress' table
A greater woman has faith.
But even statues crumble if they're made to wait.
But most importantly, you were afraid.
Was this how your life was meant to be? Utterly alone. Were all these failed attempts at love a sign of your miserable future? How were you intended to find someone to choose you when the two people presumed to love you the most didn't? Were you doomed to only watch from the sidelines?
Were you cursed to a never-ending cycle of pain and rejection while others had their happily ever after? Were you never meant to have your person?
Were you going to stay alone like this forever? Were you going to die alone?
I'm so afraid I sealed my fate.
No sign of soulmates
I'm just a paperweight.
In shades of greige
With the coin still in your hand, you found yourself getting on your knees on the cobblestones.
Before you could try and form words to express your excruciating feelings, you dropped the coin into the water, hoping the ache was enough to deliver the message.
But you didn't stop. You had another one.
Spending my last coin so someone will tell me
It'll be ok
Still on your knees, a coin so tight between your fingers, you closed your eyes, thinking about your wish, thinking about everything, and thinking about your future.
"Please,I've been on my knees. Change the prophecy. Don't want money. Just someone who wants my company. Let it once be me. Who do I have to speak to. About if they can redo the prophecy?"
Tears streamed down your face as you finally let the pain and fear in. Sobs flew from you uncontrollably. You felt the crushing weight of the doubts and torment. Everything was hurting.
Were you destined for this agony and loneliness?
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You were sitting in your boarding gate area. Every few minutes, you would look at the big screens to check that you were in the right area.
The last thing you needed was to run around before boarding or miss your flight. You were already tired enough.
You sipped on your coffee as you tried to get some energy and help with the headache. You barely got any sleep last night. Spending your last night in your dream city crying your eyes out wasn't on your bucket list. But it was what it was.
You considered staying in Italy forever, but you didn't know if you wanted to taint the city more. Also, you knew you had to go back at some point. So you preferred to rip the bandage off and get it done.
You kept looking at the phone in your hand. You had your phone on airplane mode the whole trip. And you knew it was going to blow on your face once you turned the mood off. Josh and Maddy, your sister, probably made their relationship public.
You signed before putting the phone in your bag. You weren't ready for this. You got up to get some very needed food in your system.
You only took a few steps before a brick wall hit you, making you fall to the ground. This couldn't be a man. Nobody was this heavy or strong.
"Oh, I'm so sorry." You heard as you tried to sit up.
"Barnes, watch it. Can't have you knocking girls like this." Another voice added.
"If you weren't so childish, that wouldn't have happened, Sam." The first person spoke again.
"How is your blindness my problem?" The second guy, whom you figured was called Sam, replied.
"Ma'am. Are you okay?" The first guy, Barnes, asked you.
"Yeah. Don't worry about it." You started checking around to see if all your stuff was with you.
"Here, let me help you." The guy offered you his hand when you tried to get up. You took it and gave him a small smile.
"Everything okay?" He rechecked with you as you looked at your bag.
"Yeah. Thank you." You replied, finally looking at him properly.
You had to suppress the urge to say, "Wow," out loud. He was gorgeous. He was probably the most handsome man you had ever seen. He was tall, very well built, and had the most amazing face. His features were beautiful. Blue ocean eyes. Sharp jawline. Small dimples. He was very attractive.
You coughed quickly, disguising the fact that you were checking him out.
"Sorry about your coffee." He pointed towards your cup of coffee that had spilled as you fell.
"It's no problem." You said. You were thankful that it didn't spill all over you. That really would have been your last straw.
"Let me buy you another one." He offered it sincerely.
"No, thank you. I was already on my way to get something to eat." You declined his offer politely.
"Perfect. Me too." He said it in a cheerful tone that cracked a smile on your face.
"If you agree, I would like to join you and buy the food as an apology for this." He offered again. He was insistent.
"You can join me, but you don't have to pay." You told him. It would be nice to have someone company after a week of doing everything alone.
"Oh, we will see." He was really taking this seriously.
You laughed softly as you went to get your bags before going with him, but he stopped you.
"Leave them. Sam will keep an eye on them." You turned to Sam, who had a smirk all over his face.
You tried to turn it down, but again, he insisted. You thanked Sam before leaving with the mystery man. The two men shared a couple of words that you couldn't hear before both of you left.
"I'm James, by the way. But most people call me Bucky." He told you as you started walking away. You shared your name with him as well.
"So what brings you to Italy?" Bucky asked you.
"Well, that's a long story." You laughed sarcastically.
"We have time." Bucky said it with a smile. You returned the smile, too.
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The tension was high in the house. Everyone was nervous. The holiday spirit wasn't enough to overshadow the stress looming around. This was the first big family reunion after what your family chose to call 'the incident'.
You didn't bother to care when your family decided to let Maddy pass with what she did. You didn't want them to cut her off, but at least hold her accountable. But they didn't, and you didn't care.
Tonight would be the first time you saw your sister after what happened. Your lack of reaction to the news that Maddy and Josh would be at Christmas dinner made your family worried. They didn't know what to expect from you. Which made your whole family anxious about tonight.
However, what happened wasn't remotely close to anything they had in mind.
You showed up at your parents' house with a big smile and a honk of a man in your hand.
"Everyone, this is James Barnes, my boyfriend." You introduced him to them all. You could swear you heard your sister-in-law mumbling 'Yummy' under her breath. And you understood.
Nobody had expected you to have moved on and upgraded like this. But you did.
All throughout the night, everyone was surprised. You were very civilized with both Maddy and Josh, acting like nothing had ever happened.
But the bigger surprise was Bucky. He was perfect. A successful, charming gentleman. A true man. Everyone loved him.
You watched from the side as Bucky was chatting with your uncle. God, he was winning everybody over. You joined him, and his hands immediately came around your waist. He was cracking jokes as you sipped from your drink.
And in a blink of a crinkling eye
I'm sinking, our fingers entwined
Cheeks pink in the twinkling lights
Tell me 'bout the first time you saw me
I'll drink what you think, and I'm high
From smoking your jokes all damn night
The brink of a wrinkle in time
Bittersweet sixteen suddenly
"Where did you find this specimen?" Your cousin, Lily, asked as she entered the kitchen where you were currently loading the dishwasher.
"No, we need to know." When you didn't answer, your other cousin, Daisy, joined in.
"I got lucky." You weren't going to tell them how you fell for him when you first met. Literally.
"You look so happy." Lily said with a smile.
"Never been happier in my life." You answered honestly. Bucky made you the happiest.
"I thought you said the same about every man you have been with." Karen, your aunt, who always preferred Maddy to you, said. It was clear neither she nor Maddy were enjoying your new profound happiness. They expected misery from you today.
"Everybody makes mistakes. And I'm glad I didn't keep mine." You knew who she was referring to, and you refused to give her satisfaction.
"Plus, I wouldn't call them men." You smiled at her and Maddy before you left the kitchen.
You found Bucky before you could see him. He had his back to you as he was talking to your dad and brother. The mention of your name made you stop and listen.
"So, do you love her?" Your dad asked. You already said the words to each other, but you wanted to hear his answer.
"More than I have loved anyone in my life. She holds my heart in the palm of her hands. I'm completely defenseless in front of her. She owns every part of my being and soul. She is my life."
You could swear you felt your heart jump from your chest. How did you get so lucky.
Are you gonna marry, kiss, or kill me?
It's just a game, but really
I'm bettin' on all three for us two
Get my car door, isn't that sweet?
Then pull me to the backseat
No one's ever had me , not like you
"I think she is a bit annoying." Your bother said that after a couple of seconds, making the three of them laugh.
You took this as your cue to join the conversation. You gave Bucky a peck on the cheek as you wrapped your arm around him.
Tonight was the greatest Christmas you have had in years. Everyone was sitting in the living room. There weren't enough seats, so you retired to the most comfortable seat in the room. Bucky's lap.
Bucky had his arms tightly around you as you laid comfortably on his thighs. Everyone was talking. But you were in your own world.
I feel so high school every time I look at you
I wanna find you in a crowd just to hide from you
"Did you have fun?" You asked as you played with the ends of his hair.
"Yes. Your family seems lovely." You laughed at his sarcasm. Bucky had a personal vendetta with your family. You made him promise he wouldn't act on it today and to be on his best behavior. And he did.
"They all loved you." You told him. He may have to act like he liked your family, but he won them all over.
"Did you have fun, doll?" His question was more serious than yours. He was prepared to snap at them the second he felt you weren't fully okay. Bucky wanted to check that he didn't miss any signs.
"Yes. It was really fun seeing their reactions." You whispered the last part in his ear, making you both laugh.
"Nobody thought I would be bringing the hottest man on Earth." You added as you pecked his lips.
"A pretty girl like you only deserves the best of the best." Bucky kissed you
"For the record, you really had a terrible taste, doll." Bucky said this after he broke the kiss. You couldn't stop the loud laugh from escaping.
"Can't argue with that." You replied.
Of course, Bucky knew all about Maddy and Josh. You may not have told him early on in your relationship. But you told him. Which is why he didn't like your family much. They should have thrown both of them out once they knew.
As for Josh, Bucky had to physically restrain himself from punching him when he met him today. He only stopped himself because he promised you. And after meeting, God, Bucky thought Josh the worst guy that had ever lived. And Bucky had met criminals and killers
Who ,in their right state of mind, leaves you? . Who breaks your heart and hurts you like that? Who chooses anyone above you?
Bucky could never understand. Bucky would choose you in every lifetime.
"For it's worth, I heard there is some trouble in paradise." Bucky shared the gossip he heard from your cousin, Amy, with you.
"Yeah, well, I hope they figure it out." Bucky looked at you confusedly after your answer.
"What? If they wanted so badly to be together, then I hope they stay together. I wish them all the happiness." You answered honestly.
"You really don't mind?" Bucky asked you.
"Not all." You were truly honest.
"I'm actually grateful for them." You added. Bucky looked at you questioningly.
"How would I have ended up with the greatest man on the planet if they broke my heart?" You answered Bucky.
The fact that you thought Josh was the love of your life made you laugh now. That relationship was doomed from the beginning. All the signs were there, and you chose to ignore them.
However, you were truly grateful, because, now, you had Bucky. The best thing that has ever happened to you. The man who showed you what true love really looked like.
"Can't say I'm grateful for your heartbreak. But I'm so grateful for Sam's childish tendencies that led me to you." Bucky said before he kissed you.
The kiss was soft yet sweet. Both of you were reminding each other how much you loved each other. How grateful for the incident that brought you together.
Truth, dare, spin bottles
You know how to ball I know Aristotle
Brand new, full-throttle
Touch me while your bros play Grand Theft Auto
It's true, swear, scouts honor
You knew what you wanted and boy, you got her
Brand new, full-throttle
You already know, babe
"We should go to Italy together," Bucky suggested after he broke the kiss.
You looked at him with love and adoration, pouring out your eyes. You would love to go to Italy with Bucky. Experience the city like you have always dreamed.
But you wanted to go to thank those who heard you. Those who granted your wish. Those who altered your destiny. Those who changed the prophecy
"Yeah, I would love that, Bucky."
88 notes · View notes
benkeibear · 3 days
Text
⋆꙳✧༄ Replaced
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꒰ ͜͡➸ Your friend cut you off and you find yourself on the Kawata twin's couch where they comfort you. (Platonic relationship)
❖ Characters: Souya, Nahoya
❖ Reader: genderneutral
❖ Wordcount: 564
❖ A/n: Requested by @eccentricanimegirl | This hit close to home bc you and I both are going through this. Holding your hand so tight 🫶
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☰ Souya:
ꕤ Souya’s first reaction to finding you crying was concern, followed by anger but he was pretty good at hiding the second emotion.
ꕤ His priority was comforting you but he's terrible at it.
ꕤ He simply handed you a plushie before wrapping his arms around you, hoping that he can somehow shield you from the bad emotions.
ꕤ He didn't mind if you blew your nose loudly, he even helped you wipe your tears after once you calmed down.
ꕤ Once your sight wasn't blurred from tears anymore you could see the dried tears on Souyas face too.
ꕤ He got so upset over you crying out with some agony only heartbreak and betrayal can bring that he started tearing up himself.
ꕤ It was nothing he could fix for you right now, not all friendships are meant to last after all but he still stayed at your side.
ꕤ Souya offers to let you stay a few nights if it helps you feel better, he would love that actually
ꕤ You guys can have a silly sleepover and far too many snacks while watching movies and he would let you ramble over everything going through your head.
ꕤ He's not great with words but he's the worlds best listener and allows you to hug whichever plushie of his if that helps.
ꕤ And would get you all your favorite snacks since he's a firm believer of “food fixes everything” so expect your comfort meals and snacks whenever you feel like it.
ꕤ He makes sure that you're feeling invited whenever him and his brother go out, making sure that you know that your friendship runs deep - you're family to him.
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☰ Nahoya:
ꕤ Nahoyas blood boiled when his brother told him why you're crying your eyes out on their couch.
ꕤ You were more than just a friend to him, you were his honorary sibling and he hated it when someone made his siblings cry.
ꕤ His first reaction is to make some Ramen for you. The world immediately looks a big brighter after his famous chicken broth ramen - confirmed by Souya.
ꕤ Once the food is in front of you he holds a box of tissues for you, one arm gently around your shoulders so you can cry into him.
ꕤ Nahoya was rambling on about how he'll make them pay for treating you this poorly, how he wished them everything bad he could come up with - including wet socks.
ꕤ Perhaps he tried to make you laugh just a little, or at the very least take away the pain from you and hand it to them in the form of a fist to their face.
ꕤ He would go that far for you if you tell him to. But if you just want to be held he will hold you close, words of encouragement whispered to you.
ꕤ Nahoya presses a few innocent kisses to your temple, a way of him to let you know he's there and that you're so important to him.
ꕤ His bed is yours as well, he'll gladly sleep on the couch or holds you close at night, whatever makes you feel less lonely.
ꕤ You don't need a friend like that when you have the Kawata twins. They're happy that you're in their life and would choose you over anyone else.
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Networks: @enchantedforest-network @themovingcastlez
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nanabansama · 3 days
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Tsukasa Is Tsukasa
Recently I discovered a poll asking if people thought the Supernatural Tsukasa and the Red House Tsukasa were different, and the results surprised me! A majority of voters thought they were not the same. Not only that, but I've seen many people in the fandom start believing they are separate people, if they hadn't already believed it before.
I think this stance can very easily be explained by the scene in Chapter 111 where Amane comes to the conclusion that the Tsukasa who went missing isn't the same as the one who came back:
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While people might be divided on the details, the conclusion is basically the same: whatever that is inside of him, it's not Amane's brother.
And I can see why they think this! In fact, it used to be a popular theory back during the release of chapters 78-82 when we didn't know the specifics of what happened. Heck, we still don't know many of the specifics...and many people continued believing the Tsukasas were different anyway!
There's decent evidence to support this, too. When Tsukasa returned, he had sharp teeth and supernatural powers. He knew that Kunishige's wish was that the head priest would die. He's demonstrably different from the innocent little Tsukasa that sacrificed his life for Amane.
If that wasn't enough, even his own mom came to the conclusion that Tsukasa wasn't her son! This is basically the same conclusion Amane comes to in Chapter 111. That's 2/3 of Tsukasa's family members thinking some evil entity is larping around in his skin--not a good look!
In any case, while I could try and convince you guys there are two Tsukasas and the Tsukasas are different, that's not what I'm here to do. If you read my blog you already know I'm 100% on the side that Tsukasa is Tsukasa and always has been, and nothing AidaIro has shown me so far has been convincing enough to change my mind. In this post, I am here to argue that the Red House Tsukasa is the same as the Supernatural Tsukasa and that he merely works in tandem with the ancient god living inside him.
1. Chapter 82
This is the chapter when a lot of people dropped the theory that there are two Tsukasas, including me. (Yes, I used to believe there were two Tsukasas--people change!)
Kou and Nene had determined that the Red House Tsukasa was the real Tsukasa and that the one Amane killed was a fake. They come to this conclusion because this Tsukasa was trapped in the Red House for 50 years and acts a lot nicer and sweeter than the one we know.
The issue is, Kou tells this Tsukasa that Amane is going to kill Tsukasa and die at the age of 13...and unbeknownst to Kou, the seemingly innocent little Red House Tsukasa is EXCITED at the idea! Tsukasa, thankful to Kou and Nene, helps them escape the house but stays behind. This scene is when a lot of cool stuff happens.
First, we learn that Tsukasa wasn't actually trapped in the Red House and he always knew how to get back home, but that he never left because he was worried about what would happen to Amane. However, once Kou told him that Amane wasn't happy after Tsukasa left and that Amane kills not just Tsukasa but also himself, Tsukasa realizes he doesn't know that much about Amane and wants to learn more. The most shocking part of this scene to me was that Tsukasa's excitement at dying was very similar to the lighthearted way the Supernatural Tsukasa brings up his death with Amane.
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Second, we see Tsukasa not only has the entity he sacrificed himself to to save Amane stored in his chest, but that he holds a conversation with it.
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The entity being shown in his chest is actually a popular argument for the "Tsukasa isn't Tsukasa" theory, but I feel this scene proves otherwise. Tsukasa is not the unwilling host of this entity, as one might expect, but instead almost treats it as a friend. They have a sort of symbiotic relationship going on, and Tsukasa makes the decision to go back wholly of his own, despite them both knowing how to get back the entire time. He even says "let's go back TOGETHER," which supports the idea that they work together and that it isn't simply piloting a Tsukasa meat puppet.
We can argue Tsukasa is the victim to the entity's machinations, that the entity needed Tsukasa to do it willingly or that the entity took full control of Tsukasa after he succumbed to the flames or what not and tricked him, but so far AidaIro has only shown cooperation between these two characters. It's not unreasonable to suggest that Tsukasa gaining supernatural powers after he comes back isn't a sign that he's a different being entirely but that he's just working with one.
2. Mother Doesn't Always Know Best
This one will be a quick section, but considering Mother Yugi is basically the origin of "Tsukasa isn't Tsukasa" I wanted to cover why I think she's wrong.
In Chapter 79 Kunishige recounts how Mother Yugi took Tsukasa to their shrine because she thought her son was possessed by a demon after being spirited away. Kunishige thinks she's crazy at first, and so do the priests, who find nothing wrong with Tsukasa. Put a pin in that btw.
However, Kunishige later learns she was onto something because Tsukasa is not only an incredibly unsettling child but he correctly predicts the death of the head priest of the shrine and tells Kunishige his wish, for the head priest to disappear, would be granted tomorrow. This proves Tsukasa has otherworldly power, since he knows Kunishige's wish without Kunishige telling him, and also might have the ability to grant wishes, something the entity in his chest is shown to be capable of.
Now, I personally think the fact that the priests found nothing wrong with Tsukasa is HUGELY in favor of my theory. I understand how you can argue that the entity somehow avoided detection because it's powerful, or because there was nothing left of the original Tsukasa or something, but I still think the fact the priests detected nothing wrong is extremely weird. What if that's because Tsukasa is still in control?
I think the fact Mother Yugi was convinced Tsukasa isn't her son and wasn't persuaded otherwise is important, too. In fact, I think it might directly correlate with the conclusion Amane makes in Chapter 111. I think Amane is more or less coming to the same conclusion his mother made, something he hadn't wanted to believe at first but eventually, finally, succumbed to. I have to imagine his mother's insistence that Tsukasa wasn't Tsukasa left a big impression on Amane, and it's something that's bothered him for years.
I can't exactly blame them both, either. By the time Tsukasa came back, he'd lost a lot of his innocence. Keep in mind that they think Tsukasa was gone for six months. Any normal 4-year-old kid might have been traumatized by leaving his family for six months, but Tsukasa just acts creepy and possessed. And despite him meeting Nene and Kou 50 years in the future, it's possible it really was only six months for Tsukasa! Time worked differently there. Still, it's not hard to see how the extreme circumstances he was in might have changed him. Not only was he stuck in a haunted death house, he later learns the wish he granted for Amane wasn't Amane's true wish and that Amane kills Tsukasa. This is all pretty life-changing information, and when you tack on the fact that he's buddy-buddy with an ancient man-eating god, it's really not that surprising Tsukasa has changed so dramatically, especially when he's still at the tender age of 4.
3. Behavior
For something that's supposedly replaced Tsukasa entirely, it certainly gets very personal with Amane, doesn't it?
I said before that Red House Tsukasa in Chapter 82 acts similar to Supernatural Tsukasa. How they find delight in death. But I don't think this is the only point of similarity between them, either. In Chapter 81, Red House Tsukasa is under the impression that Amane hates him.
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In Chapter 111, after Amane tells Tsukasa he hates him, Tsukasa tells him he already knew that.
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Mind you, this line comes seconds before Amane comes to the conclusion that Tsukasa isn't Tsukasa.
Think about it. Tsukasa tells Amane that he knows Amane hates him, echoing a sentiment that the Red House Tsukasa shares. And Amane, after hearing this, comes to the conclusion that this Tsukasa is an impostor.
Isn't that... really sad?! I mean, I'm not going to say that Amane's whole reasoning for Tsukasa being a fake is that he thinks Amane hates him, but...before this scene, Amane was saying he couldn't destroy his yorishiro because he cared about Tsukasa too much. And for Tsukasa to say something he's thought ever since Amane pushed him as a little kid, and for THAT to make Amane say he thinks Tsukasa is fake... it really shows they've never understood each other at all.
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Tsukasa's never been shown to get extremely upset about being hated by Amane, either, so you can't say Amane is right just because Tsukasa is laughing in Chapter 111. Tsukasa initially seems shocked when he was pushed, and overall seems a little sad about it in Chapter 81, but he still remarks that Amane hates him with a smile. He's selfless about it. And later, when he learns Amane kills him, this feeling gets more complex. Despite Kou's attempts to convince him otherwise, I think Kou's reveal only made Tsukasa more convinced that Amane hates him, and this is shown in Chapter 111 when he laughs about it. It's just a funny joke to him at this point.
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I...genuinely cannot reconcile this behavior with Tsukasa being a fake. I just can't! Why would the entity be this personal with Amane? Why would it share opinions that the supposedly "real" Tsukasa had? If AidaIro really is trying to write a story about a little boy being replaced by a supernatural entity, then they could at least do a better job of making them act different. TBHK makes it clear that supernaturals can experience human emotions just as strongly as actual humans, so it wouldn't surprise me if the god has its own personality and feelings, but for them to just...be the exact same as the human it replaced? I'm not buying it.
There is no difference between the Red House Tsukasa and the Supernatural Tsukasa that can't be explained away by the fact that people change as they grow older. Everything about Tsukasa's character arc as I've presented it is completely logical.
Conclusion
With so little info on the ancient man-eating god, it's kind of impossible to reach a proper conclusion at this point. All we really know about its personality is that it hungers for flesh and will grant any wish in exchange for it. With this in mind, it's incredibly easy to see why people think the god and Supernatural Tsukasa are one and the same, especially when the cast tends to treat them as such. I could just as easily write a post in favor of them being different as I could of them being the same.
And I think this is what AidaIro ultimately wants! I think AidaIro wants us to second guess ourselves. If I know anything about Aidairo, it's that they like to keep up on our toes and shock us with surprising twists. Who really knows what they have hiding up their sleeves?
Still, I feel the theory that the god replaced Tsukasa raises more questions than answers, and I hope I managed to explain my side of things.
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