#I’m being hard on myself but I can’t help it when I want to make everything I see in my head just how it is

[peachysunrize]

The Ballad of a Dragon ⥃ Modern!Aemond Targaryen

Summary: after an argument with your husband, you find him playing his frustration away and eventually apologizes to you on top of his piano.

Warnings: 18+ mdni! Smut, angst, fluff, p in v, oral(F!receiving) fingering, Aemond eats pussy like a champ, both parties are so petty, post argument/make up sex, hand kink, body worship, Aemond knows how to work with those fingers, he plays piano👀 tell me if I’ve missed something. English isn’t my first language<3 no beta...

Word count: 3.15k+

A/n: so this pure filth is based on this post, and @barbieaemond motivated me to write it! So thank you, my love, and thanks to Aemond’s long fingers for being a great inspiration to write a hand kink fic. I’m also taking a little break from writing for a month or so<3

“You just came home, Aemond! We had a reservation for tonight that you missed, you arrived at midnight from work and now you are taking a call to go and fix Rhaenyra’s stupid mistakes again?” You groan, pacing around your bedroom with Aemond burying his face in his hands, sitting on the bed in front of you.

“I can’t just turn a blind eye to them when they need help!” He explains, raising his voice a little. He is frustrated beyond words; work has been hectic lately and the company’s responsibility has fallen on his shoulders, forcing him to carry the weight alone.

“You’re already half blind, it wouldn’t hurt to close your other eye and ignore them for once!” You know you shouldn’t have said that, but you’re fed up with all the negligence, nights staying up just for him to either sleep in his office or crawl into bed at four in the morning.

It isn’t his fault mostly, it’s the pressure his father, siblings, and Otto put on him, but you wish he would say something and stand up for himself.

“That was a very low blow, wife,” he says through gritted teeth, glaring at you as he puts his elbows on his knees, “I can’t let her mess up everything we have worked so hard for! This company will be ruined if I don’t fix Rhaenyra’s fuck ups!”

“It’s not your responsibility, Aemond! It’s hers! It’s her mistake, it’s her fucking fault! I shouldn’t be begging my husband to make time for me, his wife, and spend some time home! You reserved the table, you told me to get ready because you wanted to take me out on a date! I’m just glad I didn’t go to the restaurant myself or tomorrow’s headlines would have been worse for your reputation than Rhaenyra’s mistake can ever be.”

“My work is my priority! This is my family’s business, do you know what that is? Family? Because by the way you’re acting, I’m not quite sure you have the slightest idea.” He stands up as well, running his fingers through his hair as each word falls from his lips and you feel the sting of each one in your chest.

“I can’t believe you, Aemond. How can your work be any more important than your wife?! How? I get it, you’re this tough guy, knight in shining armor always trying to get on your father’s good side and want his praises. I get it, you’re desperate for his affection. But what about me? I spent hours getting ready for my husband, just for you to treat me like trash! I left my family because of you, Aemond, and I would do it a thousand times more because I love you. Although I can’t say the same about you.” You know it was a pathetic move to get a rise out of him, but after what he said, it’s only fair to treat him just as he is treating you. 

Tears sting your eyes as you look at how red he has gotten, knowing that you’ve woken up the hot-tempered dragon inside him. Good, he needs to feel ashamed and angry for how small he made you feel with each mean word that he said.

“You think I don’t love you anymore?” He asks, his voice barely above whispering, but you hear him perfectly and see how rapidly his chest is moving with the deep breaths he is trying to take.

“No, but I can’t deny that I’m doubting it. You put work over the family we created together, over your wife, and you want me to accept it without complaining, without telling you how much I miss you and how it hurts to be apart from you while you constantly choose your work over me!” You sob, putting your hands on your hips as you turn away from him. Even the sight of him makes your heart clench.

“I’m working my ass off for you to be content with your life, to have enough money to waste on petty and unnecessary stuff—“

“Don’t you dare guilt trap me, Aemond Targaryen! Don’t you fucking dare make me feel bad for wanting to spend time with my husband!” You nearly scream at him, tears now falling freely from your eyes as you turn around to look at him.

Even at this moment, he looks so beautiful — silver hair shining under the dim light of the room, his white shirt unbuttoned a little and his sleeves rolled up, showing off his toned forearms. If you weren’t so mad at him, you would have jumped on him the second he walked through that door.

“I can not control my siblings! They are idiots, sure but do you have any idea how bad their actions can destroy everything we have worked so hard for? I need to go because my father called.” he tries to reach for you, but you pull your hand away from him, taking a step back because you can’t bear him trying to sweet talk his way out of this like he always does. You shouldn’t let him minimize your feelings.

“Your father or Otto? Did he say if you save Rhaenyra’s ass, you would become Viserys Targaryen’s favorite child? It looks as if his affection is worth more than our marriage.”

“Stop with this nonsense, you know it’s not!” he glares at you, his pupil blown with rage. How could you ever think like that? Did he truly drive himself away from you to the point that you doubted his love for you?

“Do I, Aemond? Do I? Because instead of apologizing to me you are telling me how your work was more important than not showing up for a date you organized! I felt so beautiful, Aemond, so happy that after such a long time my husband was going to come to pick me up and spend the night with me! Now I just… I just feel so fucking stupid for getting my hopes high.” 

You watch him take a deep breath, shaking his head as he marches out of the room swiftly, not bothering to spare a glance at you. He is frustrated, you get it, but to leave in the middle of an important argument like a child being denied a candy is pretty immature of him.

You sigh and wipe your tears, walking towards your wardrobe to pull out one of your sheer nightgowns, changing into it to sleep in something comfortable while your husband's side of the bed gets colder by the second.

The sound of music fills the house gradually, taking you by surprise. The last thing you expect is to hear your husband’s favorite classical piano piece echoing within the walls, and you halt in your steps, guilt creeping inside your chest as you listen to the distant sound of the piano before you grab your robe and walk toward the playroom.

You find the door open already — the orange hue of the lights illuminates his silver hair and sharp jawline, his eye is closed while his fingers move in rhythm, each finger pressing the right note on the tempo, and you can see the frustration and tension leaving his shoulders the longer he plays.

Nocturne in C-sharp minor fills the air around you, and you remember how he played this the first time the two of you met; it was filled with so much laughter and excitement as he gushed about his love for classical pieces, how hard he tried to regain his posture and strength while he lost half of his eyesight. You guess you fell in love with him at that very second he sat behind the piano in the instrumental shop.

Your gaze falls on his hand, long denty fingers moving with grace, pressing the keys one by one, and you lean on the doorframe, fidgeting with the hem of your robe while you rub your thighs together, the images of how those same fingers have given you the most blissful orgasms ever flooding your mind.

You watch him pushing the pedals down, his eye following the path of the notes he has memorized on the keys, and you keep admiring his ethereal form. Sometimes it feels unbelievable to be the wife of such a beautiful and otherworldly man, to be this lucky to call yourself Mrs. Targaryen, yet, there are moments you recall how everyone told you that the same name comes with a curse, that Targaryen men are ambitious and cunning. They are right on both matters.

The slickness between your thighs gets worse the more you stare at him and his skillful fingers move as if this is the easiest piece known to mankind with how smoothly he is playing it.

He plays the last note, sighing softly as he retrieves his fingers from the keys, turning around to look at you with an easy smile on his thin lips.

“Thought you had left before I heard you playing,” you say, matching his smile, growing a bit nervous with how his eye drinks the sight of your exposed thighs.

“I had half a mind to do so,” he replies, extending his hand to show he wants you close, “C’mere,”

You push away from the doorframe, walking to where he is sitting before trailing your hand over his extended arm, his large palms coming to rest on your waist. He looks up at you, fingers gently massaging your back.

“I’m sorry, I…” 

He shushes you, pressing a kiss to your stomach before placing his chin on the soft flesh, “I should apologize. I didn’t realize how terrible I was treating you. You are my priority, I should have treated you much better.”

“I…I was in the wrong too. It was very pathetic of me to act so desperately, I know how much your work means to you—“

“No, no,” he stands up, caging you between his body and the piano, forcing you to sit a bit on the keys, a not-so-great sound coming out of the instrument, “You aren’t desperate, and even if you are, you do have a great excuse for it. I neglected you for a job that can be done by anyone.”

“It was a petty argument anyway, I’m sorry for being mean. I miss you so much, that’s all,” you say, gasping when he picks you up so effortlessly by the back of your thighs, putting you on top of his royal piano before he takes home between your legs.

“I miss you too, sweetheart,” he whispers, leaning down to peck the corner of your lips, “I could see how truly desperate you were when you rubbed your pretty thighs together.”

“Y-you saw that?” You exhale, craning your neck to give him more space to attack the skin of your neck, littering his little bruises and bites all over you.

“I know my wife, I know her weaknesses. I could smell you from here, and I’m sure if I were to touch you down there…” he locks his eye with yours, one of his hands traveling down towards your panties, chuckling darkly, “my my, so wet and I haven’t even touched you yet.”

He brings his fingers to his mouth, licking your essence off them while he holds eye contact, watching how your lips part in desire as you keep your gaze fixed on his lips and tongue.

“Lay down, I need to apologize to my wife properly,” he pulls the strings of your robe, dropping the fabric on the floor, revealing the sheer fabric to his hungry eye, “I’m an idiot for taking you for granted. Fuck, baby, you look so delicious.”

You pant as his words go straight to your core, heat filling your belly and your wetness oozing out of you slowly. He puts his palm on your chest, gently pushing you back on the cold surface of the piano before he spreads your legs properly, humming as his good eye finds your glistening cunt.

He kisses your knee before pulling his chair closer and sit on it, his tall body giving him the advantage of coming to the same height as your body. Aemond preps your inner thighs with kisses, marking his territory with each nibble and bite which are rewarded by gasps and whimpers from you ever here and there. 

He kisses your navel sweetly, nuzzling his head into your hand when you reach down to smooth a few wandering strands of his hair out of his face. You keep him close when he finally, after who knows how long, gives into his urges and attaches his lips to your buzzing clit, moaning as your sweet nectar finally roots its taste onto his tongue.

He is starved, and you realize soon with how he keeps his face buried into your cunt, tongue flickering over the bundle of nerves, teeth sinking into your flesh a little. He doesn’t seem to care about how messy he is eating you out, he has set his goal of making you at least come on his tongue twice tonight. 

“Aemond!” your moans fill the room, back arching off the piano as he keeps you down by his hands on your hips, the tip of his tongue collecting your wetness happily while you writhe beneath him, feeling the knot in your belly tightening by the second.

He knows you like the back of his hand, so he speeds up a little, focusing on sucking and licking your clit while you buck your hips to his face. He loves how desperate you are for him, all laid out and pretty and ready to come just for him.

“Fuck, love, I’m—” You throw your head back, tangling your fingers through his hair before you explode on his tongue, whines of pleasure making him dizzy. He keeps flickering his tongue until you stop twitching and push his face away from your swollen pussy.

He grins at your breathless form, caressing your thighs as he stands up and kisses a path from your lower belly up to your lips over your nightgown before he pulls you in a searing kiss, letting you taste yourself on his pink bruised lips.

“I could feast on you all day, sweetheart. I should write a ballad in honor of your pretty cunt,” “You are unbelievable!” You giggle, leaning on your elbows to kiss him again, moving until you are at the edge with your husband between your legs, “You said twice, why are you still up here?” You whisper against his lips.

“I saw how you looked at my hands earlier. I think it would be only fair to make sure you forgive me if I fuck you with my fingers, hmm? You love them, I’m sure they can be convincing enough.”

You nod, words failing to come out of your mouth when he pushes the strands of your nightgown down your shoulders, the chilly air of the room hitting your bare breasts. He leans down to kiss the top of your chest, writing the ballad he promised with his lips over your skin.

His hand moves down where he was a few minutes ago, long digits rubbing between your soaked folds slowly. He makes sure you aren’t as sensitive as you were before he pushes one finger in, keeping you close to him with a hand on your back while the other works his finger in and out of you, drowning your moans with passionate kisses.

He adds another one, curving his fingers inside you slightly as he pushes them deeper, reaching your sweet spots effortlessly with how skilled and long his fingers are — courtesy of practicing piano from a young age.

“Aemond, fuck—please!” your desperate whine adds fuel to the fire starting inside him, and he compiles, fucking you faster with his hand while the rock of his palm rubs your clit with just the right amount of pressure.

You fall apart again easily, gasping as your thighs start shaking with how good he makes you come, lips forming into an O-shape while he keeps his pace up, making sure that you ride your high gracefully before he pulls you in for another rough kiss, his tongue invading your mouth quickly.

“I need you so much, sweetheart,” he says, unbuckling his belt before he pushes his pants and boxers down enough to pull out his weeping cock, “let me have you, baby, please.” “Yes, yes I need you too. It’s been so so long, Aem,” you reach to stroke him gently, scooting closer to him so he can pull you down a little, keeping you tucked between his firm body and piano while somehow holding you up by his large palms under your ass.

You guide him toward your entrance, gasping in union as soon as the fat tip of his cock breaches past your ring of muscles before he pushes himself deep inside you until there is none to take.

You cling to his shoulders as soon as he settles inside your cunt, his hot breath fanning on your face as he gets adjusted to your warmth. It’s been too long for both of you, but he makes a promise to not make the same mistake again, ever.

“Fuck, love, I missed you so much,” he groans in your ear as he starts thrusting up into you, the angle making him reach the deepest part of your pussy easily. 

“Me too, baby…” you gasp, hips snapping into his as he goes faster, less patient and ready to devour you thoroughly. You take what he gives you, deep hard strokes that rock your world and leave you breathless and a moaning mess. He relishes every sound that falls from your lips, thinking to himself how no classical piece can ever come close to how beautiful you sound when he pleasures you, and he silently beats himself for neglecting you so much.

He is close, embarrassingly fast and he can feel you tightening around his girth with each thrust. Aemond hides his face in your neck, quickening his pace as he fucks you roughly, pulling screams of ecstasy out of you with ease.

“Come inside me,” you bite his earlobe, your breasts rubbing against his covered chest as you lean upward a little, “I need you, please, husband.”

“Then come with me, come now so I can give my girl what she wants,” he replies, snapping his hips faster into yours until you crumble in his arms, gushing around his cock a few seconds before he follows you, keeping his hips still as he pumps you full of his warm cum, your name falling from his lips like a prayer.

“Don’t you dare put us through that again, Aem, do you hear me?” you ask him, kissing the side of his face lovingly.

“I’d rather die than upset you again, beloved.”

#aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen angst #aemond fanfiction #modern aemond #aemond targaryen smut #modern aemond targaryen #rue:smut #rue:angst

[justkending]

Mr. & Mrs. Hunt (Chapter 4)

Mini-Series Summary: Two of the most stubborn people in the group partnered together for an undercover mission are also the two people with the most hatred for each other, so what could go wrong? Or is it, what COULDN’T go wrong?…

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger Reader

Word Count: 3900+

A/N Note: Only a few more chapters to go (I think, but we're both lost on how long this series will be.) Thank you guys for reading and as always, thank you for the love and support!

____________

Chapter 4:

Y/N's POV

It wasn’t him. It was 100% me. I did this to myself. I built a wall so quickly around him because I didn’t want to like the man behind my misery. 

My teammates knew enough about my backstory to think they had an idea of my reason for joining SHIELD: helping the little guy because, at one point, you were the little guy—the manipulated guy—the one who no one saved, so you had to save yourself—and now anyone else who can’t do it for themselves. 

Yet, there were so many other things I kept for myself, and things files couldn’t tell you. No files existed of them, and I’m glad because I didn’t want the pity. 

James Buchanan Barnes was the reason behind my abuse. Not personally, but my abuser was obsessed with his accomplishments under the German and Russian terrorist organizations and wanted to make a female, more skilled, discrete, and sleeker version of the Winter Soldier. 

Who fucking didn’t, right? God, every goddamn evil bastard on this godforsaken shit show of a planet wants to remake something that was a once in a lifetime kind of thing and crack more than a few eggs to get to that point. Selfish asshole…

Being constantly compared to him and then beaten for not hitting the unreachable mark of the man I was ‘of no comparison to’ after years of trying to hit that standard, and then being asked to be on a team with him? A lot of emotions hit me like a train when I got that news. 

Will I amount to being the trained spy and agent I am for Shield with him by my side? Will he make me look like a completely pointless addition to the team? After five years of already working with the Avengers and then learning who the Winter Solider was? Steve’s best friend and probably the only person he could relate to in their journey? All the way to having to work with him… The change-up was instantaneous, where I would have begged for baby steps. 

Then again, when has the world made it easy for me?

So yes. I was an ass and kept him further than arm's length away to stay safe from learning that he was a good guy when I wasn’t ready to like him yet. I had a lot of trauma I never thought I’d have to work through with the infamous man himself, and that irritation and annoyance just continued when he finally matched my energy, and we never strayed from that relationship until… now.

And here he was, genuinely asking what HE did wrong when I was the reason for our enemies’ plot line. 

“Bucky, I don’t think I can talk about this right now,” I breathed out slowly, feeling the tears prick in my eyes.

It had been a minute since I cried and felt this vulnerable, and I couldn’t seem to stop it. I think subconsciously, I didn’t want to stop it, but my mind was begging my body to hold out until he was out of the room. 

“Y/N, if I did something to you, I didn’t realize-” 

“You wouldn’t have known,” I whisper, not trusting my voice to stay steady, but also not wanting to put anymore of the blame on him from here on out. 

He wasn’t a bad guy.

He had proved himself time and time again to be a really good guy. Even when he broke and decided he hated me back, he still had his moments when he put it aside and showed chivalry. I admired him for it even when I ignored the admiration. 

Makes it hard to fully hate a guy who made sure ladies weren’t opening any doors for themselves. Or a man who remembered Morgan’s birthday and bought her an ice cream cake before stealing Steve’s shield to sled down a hill her dad told her not to. Or a man you treat like absolute shit 99% of the time, and he still checks on you when you have nightmares, and he grabs water and an ice pack and helps you even out your breathing before waiting for you to go back to sleep. 

I didn’t ask him for the help, and he never mentioned the handful of times he fell into the routine of soothing me back to sleep. Never brought it up, never made me feel like I owed him, and never hinted at remembering such kindness. 

But now?

“You wouldn’t have known why it started this way to begin with. And you likely won’t,” I sigh, breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth before turning around; a lot more put together, even if it was just a mask I had learned to put on most of my life. 

“I don’t understand,” Bucky furrowed his eyebrows at my disposition. 

“I don’t expect you to, but maybe we should go to sleep and talk about it later. It’s getting late, and you have to go to your ‘job’ tomorrow,” I say with hand quotes. “We have to keep the ruse going.” 

“A few hours of sleep doesn’t affect me,” Bucky shook his head, and I could see him itching to put his hands back on me, but he held back. “Please. I need to know what the hell I did.” 

“Again, Bucky,” I say sternly this time, all emotion I’m struggling to keep at bay shoved down. “You are not at fault, and tomorrow I’ll talk to you, but for now, I need to sleep on it.”

He read my face for lies, and I kept it neutral. I wasn’t going to break here. Now was not the time. I needed space to think about how I was going to approach this after so long of avoiding it and being put on the spot wasn’t going to work for me. 

“Ok,” he said, softer than I think I ever heard him talk. His eyes were soft and sensitive, and I didn’t know how I felt about it…

He turned and walked out of my room, gently shutting the door behind him and turning off the overhead light he had originally flashed on. 

I didn’t instantly head straight to bed. I stared at the doorway in the dark, seeing the faint silhouette of the barrier between us. He was still on the other side, and I could hear his heart rate higher than normal.

This was affecting him more than I thought it would. Why was he so worried about what I thought of him? He didn’t seem bothered by my disinterest in the past. Or at least I didn’t figure he did. 

____________________

When I woke up, Bucky was already gone. His truck, normally in the driveway, was missing, and I knew he had taken off for our mission report. 

Thankful, I took the time to make my coffee, sit on the front porch, and watch the neighborhood take on its morning routine. 

People were on runs with their family dogs, moms were doing their morning walks with strollers, some neighbors were out already tending to their gardens, and everything suburban seemed to be on track. 

Towards the end of my cup, I notice Ms. Bauer coming back from her jog she must have taken earlier than the others. 

“Oh, hello, neighbor!” she shouted when she spotted me, uniformly checking our house like her head was on a swivel if she heard a pen drop in it. 

Still in her jog, she sashayed over to my lawn, and I mumbled, “Here we go,” smiling at her as she followed the sidewalk to our steps. 

“How are you doing today, Bethanne?” I grin standing from my patio chair and going down the steps to meet her at the bottom of the flight. “Is there a run club I didn’t know about? You’re the 10th person I’ve seen getting a head start on their steps for the day.” 

She laughed and waved a hand at me before taking an earbud out, pausing her music on her watch, and placing her hands on her hips as she looked up at me. 

“There is actually a mommy and me walking club on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Depending on the weather, of course, but who knows,” she grinned up at me. “Maybe you can be joining it sooner than you thought.”

“Maybe not as soon as you think,” I laughed, holding my mug tighter with both hands so I wouldn’t strangle her instead and leaning on the banister. “We wanted at least a year in the house by ourselves before we add another set of feet to the chaos,” I scrunch my nose and add, “but I’m excited for the day Beau and I have a mini-version of us running around here.” 

“Speaking of Beau,” she grins, looking to the driveway. “Where is he today? He’s usually home with you most of the time, right?”

“Oh, it was time for him to get back to work. He took off for a few weeks to get moved in and spend time with me before we had to get back to the real world,” I answer as planned. 

“That’s right. I think I remember you guys talking about that at the first block party,” she nodded, watching me carefully for slip-ups. “Can you believe it’s only been two weeks of you guys here? I feel like you two have been a part of the community for at least a year.” 

“You’re sweet,” I gush convincingly and look out to the neighborhood for effect. “You guys have really taken us in as your family, and you don’t know how much I appreciate it. We appreciate it,” I correct and look off in the distance like I’m thinking of my sweet, doting husband when, in reality, I was thinking of the day this mission was over and I could carry on with my normal life. “I don’t think I’ve mentioned this. Beau isn’t one to really talk about it, but his family life wasn’t the best. They’ve practically been strangers since he turned 18.” 

“Oh, is that so?” she inched up, feeding on the new (fake) information. 

I nod. “When we started dating, my family took him in as his own- well, I only had my dad around for most of my life, but they got along really well. He passed three years ago,” I give a tight-lipped look as I look down at my feet in sadness. “They developed a bond, which wasn’t hard considering who my dad was. He was the best, though we might be biased in thinking that. Taught Bucky how to do a lot of things dads are supposed to teach their sons. Well,” I sniffle for added effect. “Anyway, we’re kinda on our own now. No extended family we’re close with, and with my dad’s passing, it’s really just us. So when I say we’re grateful for y’all’s hospitality, I mean it.”

She seemed to buy it, as much as an undercover convict could, and smiled kindly up at me before placing a hand on my arm. 

“Of course, sweetheart. We’re just lucky you two are some of the good ones. You’d be surprised who’s come in and hasn’t made the cut. Lawns in disarray, unfriendly attitudes, and you know the list,” she winks and rolls her shoulders back before stretching in her spot. “Speaking of being lovely neighbors, how would you and Beau feel about a dinner at our house? Reggie and I have been talking about having you over for quite some time now, and I think we can finally host.” Before I could ask, she stopped me and explained. “Kitchen renovation. It was and still is a pain in my ass, but it should be doable for a small dinner.”

“That sounds lovely,” I beam as much as I could act. It was the perfect next step, and the bait had been taken, but a part of me wanted to settle things with Bucky in our personal dispute before we put on our masks for the two main perpetrators. “Let me check with him and see what his schedule will look like now. He’s getting some new orders today, and some things are changing in the company. We’ll know more tonight. But we will for sure make it work.” 

___________

After Bethanne told me some useless neighborhood gossip, she excused herself, and I went back inside to get ready for the day and consider how I would approach Bucky on our issue. 

I knew it was time to be truthful, even if I dreaded it. Bucky had proven time and time again that he wasn’t the enemy, and I needed to deal with my issues. I was tired of wasting energy on hatred and anger, and these last two weeks proved that Bucky wasn’t the one who should have been receiving the blunt force end of my trauma. 

I had until four in the evening to come up with an idea of how I wanted to go about it, but I had stress cleaned instead and couldn’t come up with a non-terrifying way to approach this life-changing conversation.

Finally, I found it best we get dinner in the town over (as not to have any peaking eyes or eavesdropping ears as we dive into my life story I hadn’t indulged to near anyone before), and I would talk to Bucky there. However, plans changed when Bucky came home. 

From my spot in the kitchen, I heard him shout in his domesticated voice across the street, “No, that sounds perfect! We’d love to!” The door opened just as he finished his sentence, and his voice became clearer. 

I moved around the island and slowly walked toward the door to get a view of who he was talking to, and I noticed Bethanne at her mailbox waving to Bucky. 

I furrowed my eyebrows at the obvious commitment he put us in, and after he waved back, he shut the door behind him, looking at me, and dropped the act quickly. 

“What did you just agree to?” I asked, nodding my head behind him. 

He looked me up and down, and I almost forgot I had picked a new, semi-fancier sundress for our “surprise anniversary dinner” (at least the front I was trying to put on for getting out of town without too much suspicion).

(Make whatever color you please or change it in your mind if you want! I'm choosing to pick it as a darker red.)

“You look nice,” he says as his eyes trail back up to my own, and I swear I see him take a gulp. 

“What did you agree to?” I asked again, focused more on what he had decided for us regarding Bethanne. 

His previous shocked face faded away, and he rolled his eyes slightly before throwing his work bag to the side.

“Bethanne invited us to dinner. I said yes because we need to build a relationship with them,” he replied stoically, as if my question was dumb and pointless. 

I just stared at him and let my “personal vendetta” look rest on my face. He studied me and had the decency to shrink ever so slightly. 

“What?”

“What happened to discussing things first?” I said in an eerily calm voice. 

“I didn’t think accepting dinner at a home we’ve been trying to get inside of for the last two weeks is something we’d have to discuss.” And now he straightens up, throwing his empty arms to the side. 

A few seconds later, I yelled, “You dipshit!” in a muffled grunt, keeping my voice down as much as I could handle and balling my fists in anger. 

His eyebrows shoot up and he huffs with his chest puffed out as he marches to me. I see the intent in his eyes, and I start walking away towards the opposite room closest, needing a minute not to lose my shit, and if I have to look into his stupid azure eyes like he wants to read everything passing through my mind, I’ll break.

“Don’t walk away from me,” he growls, and I shoot him a look over my shoulder as I shift my pace and head down the hallway to the bedrooms. “Y/N, stop being a stubborn ass and-”

“Unless you want a heel thrown at your head, and you’re welcome for being civil about this, I suggest you leave me alone,” I shout behind me, turn sharply to the left, and go to my room. 

“I don’t even know what THIS is! You looked at me like you wanted to kill me when I walked in, and I haven’t even talked to you today besides updates about work,” he said just as I slammed the door in his face. “Oh, real mature. Shut the door like an adolescent. Wait, I forgot. You are one…” He mumbles the last part and I hear him lean on the door.

Instantly, I whip the door open, and he doesn’t have time to predict his next move. He falls flat on his back on the wood floors of my room, only padded by a thin oriental rug I made Tony buy me. 

He’s winded from the fall and clutches his chest as I bend down next to him and say, “I said. Leave. Me. The. Fuck. Alone.” I stare at him for a second, solidifying my threat. I stand to walk out and only give him a glance as I pass the doorway. 

_____________

Bucky’s POV:

I left her the fuck alone. 

I may have been royally pissed (that is a blatant ass understatement), but something about the look in Y/N’s eyes told me not to push unless I wanted to wake up with my head no longer attached to my body. 

I was too scared to leave her room in fear I’d run into her when she wasn’t ready and risk taking the chances of the guillotine earlier, so I sat on her bed and tried to rack my brain to where I slipped up to cause whatever the hell I walked in to…

I knew almost instantly and realized what a stupid, simple mistake it was. Bethanne asking me to dinner set her off, I knew. But her comment about talking with each other before making decisions told me my mistake. 

Something happened I didn’t know of, and I may have just fucked whatever it was up. As for what it is? No goddamn clue. But using context clues and just basic reading of the body language, Y/N had already made a plan, and I threw it out the window, likely.

I heard footsteps before I could think further, and Y/N appeared in the doorway, taking a deep breath. She would have convinced me she was going to be civil if it wasn’t for her history, but I was excited to see which lane she chose. 

“One thing before I bite my tongue,” she says in almost a whisper, like she’s trying to keep her frustrations at bay. “You make me want to shave my head like Britney Spears in 2007 75% of the time. This moment was almost a tipping point for that kind of outcome..” She lets out a long breath like she passed the test of keeping it together. 

Surprisingly a lot more tame than I was expecting. 

“Glad you got that out of your system. Now, please tell me what the hell happened?” I asked, keeping my guard up in case she resorted to her typical insults and fury. 

“Oh, now you want to communicate,” she mocks and walks to the bed, harshly sitting next to me but leaving a copious amount of space between us. 

I let it slide because I know she’s fighting bigger demons, like the urge to insult me, until I personally dig my own grave and say goodbye to my cruel reality. 

“Bethanne was goading us,” she answers, thankfully getting right to the point. “Something about her proposition seemed off, and I wanted to clear some things up with you before we jumped on the offer.”

I nodded my head, seeing that my instantaneous reply wasn’t thought out. That was on me, yes, but she also reacted extremely dramatically, expressing an odd feeling about the interaction instead of hard proof. 

“What did she ask, and what was off about it?” I question, trying to stay mission based because something seemed off still.

“It wasn’t what it was but how she was asking. Something in her tone and the way she was looking at our house and me. Like she was trying to take in detail after detail up close. Checking for cracks in the foundation,” she answers and turns to me just slightly. “She also said her kitchen was under renovation, and something felt off about it.” 

“The vibes about our neighbor getting a kitchen renovation made you knock the wind out of me when you opened your door?” I said before I could think, but I didn’t budge, my furrowed eyebrows aimed at her. 

She matches my glare and turns her body fully to me. 

“It seemed like an excuse,” she answers slowly. 

“To what? Host a dinner? That’s kind of the opposite effect. Who would want to host a dinner when you have kitchen renovations? It means they trust us if they’re willing to let us see a house that’s not perfect like the front they put on.” 

‘That’s what you get from it, but I think they just planted a little seed of their own.” 

“What do you even mean?”

“Kitchen Reno? That’s an excuse to say, ‘Oh, Charlotte, I can’t cook the chicken pot pie I was going to make for you two because our new oven hasn’t been delivered and installed yet. You know? Because we have the kitchen under renovation? I completely forgot,’” She acted in a convincing Bethanne impersonation and then quickly turned back to serious. 

“You got that from a kitchen reno comment?” I deadpanned after a minute. 

“I got that from understanding women masterminds who know how to manipulate a situation. I am that woman, so I think I can read them pretty well,” she says confidently back. 

Touché.

“And what if you’re wrong?” Her bitchface grew at my question. 

“First off, I’m not. Second off, even if I was wrong, we are supposed to consult each other about accepting invitations into the house of our suspect enemies,” she ran a hand through her hair, which I notice now looks styled differently. Did she curl it or have it blown out? And yes, I know what a blowout is. I have women friends and coworkers.

Yeah… I was in the wrong here, and that’s on me. I wasn’t thinking. I also had a long day snooping around for more information about this whole operation, but it isn’t necessarily an excuse… It’s not like  I haven’t worked on a case like this in the past. I mean, minus being fictitiously married to a coworker. 

“I’m sorry,” I say, and she gives me a weird look. “What?”

“I wasn’t expecting an apology,” she says, standing slowly and straightening her dress. 

“I know when to accept I made a mistake,” I shrug and stand as well. 

She studies my face like there's a retort that’s going to follow, but I just stare at her silently, communicating that I’m set on my apology. 

“Ok…” she drags out, watching me as she steps toward the door. “Well, I guess we need to get ready for tonight. Considering we have dinner. With our neighbors. And we need to set up bugs if possible.”

“Guess so,” I nod, crossing my arms. 

She stops suddenly and looks at me with a look of realization. “You’re in my room.” She steps to the side, leaving room for me to leave, and avoids eye contact. 

She’s still acting weird, but I need to change and get my head in the game for tonight, so I walk out with a subtle head nod as I leave.

Marvel Tags:

@thejourneyneverendsx​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @death-unbecomes-you @mythos-writes​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​  @srrymydood​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @xa-dia​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @redhairedfeistynerd​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @morganclaire4​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @connie326​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @captain-asguard​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @mollygetssherlockcoffee​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @teenagedreams-bucky @shower-me-with-roses​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @livstilinski @basicallylool​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @starryeyeseunbyul​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

My Lovelies Forever:

@natura1phenomenon​ @lauravicente​ @kakakatey​ @traceyaudette​ @notyourtypicalrose​ @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​ @sandlee44​ @thorne93​ @thefaithfulwriter1​ @essie1876​ @greyeyedsmile14​ @capsiclehan​  @xostephanie​ @averyrogers83​ @awesomenursingstudent​ @gh0stgurl​ @cs-please​ @jjlevin​ @rainbowkisses31​ @deannotmoose​ @their-bibliophile​ @kitkatd7​ @willowbleedsonpaper​ @mariaenchanted​ @snffbeebee​ @couldabeenamermaid​ @rebekahdawkins​​ @alyispunk​​ @billyseye @hallecarey1​​

Bucky Barnes Tags:

@chloe-skywalker​ @charmedbysarge​ @jbarness​ @bellamy-barnes​ @katiaw2​ @aikeia​ @stopjustlovethemcu​ @enchantedbarnes

Mr. & Mrs. Hunt Series:

@jackiehollanderr @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @theroyalmanatee @wintrsoldrluvr @alexakeyloveloki @learisa @bxckybxrnes24 @lillianacristina @selella @heletsmelovehim

#bucky barnes x avenger reader insert #bucky barnes x reader insert #bucky barnes mini series #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x avenger reader #justkending #marvel #marvel mini series #bucky barnes #Bucky Barnes

[ecoamerica]

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

#ACLA24 #ACLA24HighSchoolStudents #youtube #youtube video #climate leaders #climate solutions #climate action #climate and environment #climate #climate change #climate and health #climate blog #climate justice #climate news #weather and climate #environmental news #environment #environmental awareness #environment and health #environmental #environmental issues #environmental education #environmental justice #environmental protection #environmental health #high school students #high school #youth #youth of america #school

[tgmsunmontue]

Online & Anonymous 8/16

Hangster. Explicit. Years before they meet in person Bradley and Jake strike up a friends-with-benefits relationship online. And then something more like an actual relationship.

Odd year = Bradley's POV and Even year = Jake's POV

>>Bradley chatting (bold and italics)

>>Jake chatting (italics)

2005/2006 2007 2008 2009 2010 2011 2012

2013 – Bradley

                When he gets the invitation to Top Gun he almost vibrates out of his seat in excitement. He keeps telling himself it’s excitement and not terror. He’s already going to be turning thirty this year, and while he might be a bit older than some of the other attendees he knows he’s unlikely to be the oldest. However he is older than his father was when he attended. He’s already older than his father was when he died and the idea that his father was married and had had a kid is mind boggling to him, because he doesn’t feel anywhere old enough to have either of those responsibilities, even if he’s coming around to the first one whenever he thinks about a potential future with Jas.

>>I got invited to a thing. An elite training thing. It’s sort of a big deal.

>>I’ll probably be busier than usual.

>>Like what?

>>Wait. Rangers? Delta Force? Pararescue?

>>Yeah. Something like that.

>>Fine. Keep your secrets.

>>You’re the one that said you want to keep some stuff for when we meet.

>>Can I change my mind?

>>Ask me again in 24 hours.

>>You’re pretty impulsive.

>>You like me being impulsive.

>>That’s true. I do.

>>Don’t want you to regret it though.

>>End of May isn’t that far away.

>>Assuming nothing happens again.

>>Yeah well. Fingers crossed.

>>Thinking about finally meeting you is the only gets me through some of my worst days.

>>No pressure.

                Bradley squeezes his lips between his teeth, wonders if he should apologize.

>>There is no pressure. I’m just… being honest with you.

>>I’ve had to lie about do much for so long, that even now it’s…

>>Well. I’ll never lie to you. Even if I think it’ll scare you.

>>This is where I get to be myself.

>>But you don’t need to worry about me not liking you.

>>I already love you.

>>Okay.

>>Well.

>>In the interests of being honest, do you want to know a secret?

>>Of course.

>>I’m scared of meeting you.

>>Why?

>>What if you’re not as perfect in person as you are through my phone?

>>Well, I’m not perfect.

>>At all.

>>Do you want me to share some of my gross habits with you?

>>I can do that if you think it would help.

>>Yeah. Go on.

>>Well, a recent one which drives my roommate absolutely batshit crazy, is I leave my moustache hair clippings all over the sink.

>>You have a moustache?

>>Yep. A new one. That long leave period I had last year when we were meant to meet up the second time? I started growing it.

>>Keeps my upper lip warm.

>>Do you look good?

>>I look like my dad.

>>Makes me feel closer to him.

>>I broke down and cried when I caught my reflection because I thought it was him.

>>I think mine is better, but I just wish he was here to joke with me about it.

>>Teach me how to take care of it.

>>All I’ve had are YouTube tutorials and it’s not quite the same.

>>If you’re watching online tutorials it definitely looks good.

>>Vain motherfucker.

                Bradley laughs but doesn’t bother disputing the fact, he likes to look good, and taking pride in his appearance is something that is necessary because it reflects on the Navy. He can’t say that specifically though.

>>What about you? Annoying habit?

>>I leave empty bottles and cups everywhere.

>>Not in the mess hall obviously, but everywhere else.

>>My friends despair of me.

>>I try and remember when I’m elsewhere, but I just keep forgetting.

>>Awful Southern manners.

…            …            …

                His seventeen-week stint at the Navy Fighter Weapons School begins and he doesn’t think he’s ever worked so hard in his life. He studies every waking moment, spends time with the ground crew asking questions about particular aspects of their jobs and their experiences, uses them to piece together a better understanding of the planes, although he’s already got an excellent understanding of most things, his obsession and upbringing in his youth meaning he’s knowledgeable about odd things, which sometimes get a raised eyebrow from one or two of the instructors. He does his best to ignore them.

                He and Jas have discovered SnapChat and started using that, not for conversations, just for staying connected and sending tiny little snippets of their day to each other, letting him know he’s thinking of him. Shots of morning coffee, books where he carefully covers the titles when it’s related to flying, the sky when it’s particularly pretty, his empty bed with the simple caption wish you were here.

                The seventeen weeks come to an end, he comes out on the top and he feels so much. He survived for a start, which is something he can admit now that he was worried about. God, he wants to ring Mav and Ice, and not just to brag, but to hear them be happy for him, although a part of him accepts he definitely wants to rub Pete’s face in it, that he is good enough. Of course it throws everything else into sharp relief and he wishes more than anything he could talk to his dad. He’s sitting in the lounge, just staring at the photos of previous Top Gun classes and 1986 is right there, an image that conjures so many mixed emotions.

                “Lieutenant Bradshaw. Thought you’d be out celebrating the win.”

                “Sir.”

                “Seriously. I’m surprised to see you here and not with the others.”

                “I will celebrate. Just. Having some mixed emotions sir,” he admits.

                “You don’t think you earnt the win?”

                Bradley blinks, because he’s not sure there’s a way to answer that question the right way, without sounding like he’s

                “I think it was an honor to be invited here and challenged by fellow aviators who are excellent in every respect. I worked hard and flew well. Just. Did you know my father died at Top Gun? During a hop?”

                “Bradshaw. I did wonder. Thought it was in bad taste to ask.”

                “No-one asked, but I suspect some are aware. No-one brought it up, sir.”

                “No, they’d probably take your lead on that. Well, I’ll leave you to it Lieutenant. Have a good evening.”

                “Thank you sir.”

…            …            …

>>How did you go?

>>Well, I didn’t wash out and I completed it.

>>That’s a pretty low bar.

>>Didn’t wash out? Pretty sure you smashed it.

>>I love your faith in me.

>>I love you.

>>Of course I have faith in you.

>>What I don’t have faith in is the universe and its apparent desire to fuck us over.

>>I’ve been invited to my own elite training thing.

>>Like, I can’t turn it down, it’s pretty much an order to go. And it’s an honor to be selected, but the timing could not be fucking worse.

>>I’m so sorry.

                Bradley is so disappointed he’s close to tears, but he also knows that when these type of opportunities are offered to you, you cannot turn them down. Ever. Not directly. Except he sort of just did, and his mind is

>>I understand. I totally understand.

>>Doesn’t stop me being disappointed though.

>>I was really looking forward to finally meeting you.

>>You and me both. Waited this long though right?

>>I am getting really sick of us having to say that.

>>I’m starting to get very sick of waiting.

>>I feel like we’ve waited long enough.

>>But I was offered something, I might see if I can backtrack my decline.

>>Shit. Did you turn something down because of me?

>>Well, I asked if I could think about it for a day or two. I was intending to turn them down, but I think I’ll accept it now.

>>Not if I don’t have meeting you in May to look forward to.

>>Nick. I don’t want you turning down things which could help your career just to meet with me.

>>I’m not going anywhere.

>>This goes both ways. I don’t want you turning things down either.

>>I’m sorry – did you just miss the bit where I said I can’t meet up because I’m taking up a training opportunity?

>>Yeah, but you thought about turning it down.

>>Next time don’t think about it, just accept.

>>I’ll always understand your desire to put your career first.

>>What about when I don’t want to anymore?

>>Also this applies to actual guys you sleep with and could have a relationship with.

>>Don’t you dare use me as an excuse to not pursue something if you think it’d be worth it.

>>Then the same applies for you.

>>Fine. Although the guys I’ve been sleeping with have yet to impress me with anything worth writing home about. Or well…

>>Sharing with you. My fantasies are definitely far more interesting.

>>Still think it’s your useless superpower, ability to hook-up with the worst possible guys and just have bad sex.

>>It’s okay. We’ll practice plenty in person when we meet.

…            …            …

                The offer to stay on as an instructor is there, and he’d said he’d think about it. However he really doesn’t want to stop flying, but he also doesn’t feel like he has the necessary skills to train other aviators yet, which is why he’s seriously considering staying to learn from the Top Gun instructors. When he raises his concerns about wanting to keep up his flying while also wanting to build up his experience with teaching and training to a set syllabus he gets a considered look for his troubles.

                “You’re not very much like your father or godfather are you Lieutenant.”

                “Excuse me sir?”

                “I know who you are Lieutenant. I flew with both your father, and Maverick. You remind my far more of Iceman. Cool and collected, little bit detached from emotion when you’re flying.”

                “Sir,” Bradley states, because he’s not sure if he’s asking a question or not. Whether it’s simply an observation or a compliment.

                “I’ll see what we can figure out.”

                The experienced tutors seem to take his interest in training with enthusiasm, recommending readings and setting homework. He learns that some of them have gone on to do Masters degrees in learning or development. He hadn’t expected quite a thorough background as he’s getting, but it’s good. He’s permitted to take flights early in the morning as long as he clears his flight plans with his commanding officer and also has at least three others awake and at least one willing to act as ground crew. He makes decent deals with several of the instructors, some who just prefer being on base that early to prepare for the day and doing it while he flies around is acceptable to them, especially when he agrees to try out any particular maneuvers and tactics in different planes. He loves it and it’s his routine for three weeks before the next Top Gun intake arrive. He shaves off his moustache and then regrets it almost immediately, but he can grow it back the next time he has a decent amount of leave to go unshaved.

…            …            …

                There are twelve naval aviators and Bradley has read all their files. He’s flown with a few of them before, one of them being Bambi and another Coyote. Then he knows Slipper, Knocks, Frank and Truffle. It leaves the other six as unknowns, although he does recognize the names. He has to admit it’s almost more intimidating than going through Top Gun himself, being expected to command the attention of other aviators for lessons, people known for challenging the status quo. The fact that he already knows half of them actually makes it worse, because he knows they won’t hold back. Not that he expects any of them to hold back, but he’s read their files and they’re all good and more than deserve to be here.

                It’s a little awkward, he’s not sure whether he is meant to be hanging out with the instructors, or whether he’s somehow part of this Top Gun class as well. So he finds a weird middle ground, friendly and professional with the instructors, happy to act for them, following their instructions and carrying out flight moves as an example or acting the part of bogey for tactical training. He is even more professional with the Top Gun class, slightly cooler but still friendly enough that he doesn’t think it pisses any of them off, although Bambi does roll her eyes at him more than once and Coyote gives him a quirked eyebrow.

                He and Jas continue to exchange snaps every day, although they both poke fun at the seemingly endless monotony of their current day-to-day lives. Bradley’s same mug of coffee everyday wishing him good morning, and it hasn’t escaped his notice that Jas seems to be in his time zone for the first time ever. Or at least for the first time since he really started paying attention and using Snapchat. They haven’t made any long-term plans to meet-up, not until next year and that’s too far away for Bradley to even know where in the world he’ll be let alone what weeks of the year he will have free which makes him feel a little more irritated than usual.

                “So, your score is the score I have to beat huh?” Jake Seresin says, and Bradley can’t help the immediate spike of annoyance at the words. He shouldn’t, because they’re Navy, competition between them all is something that is drilled into them from the beginning. More so for the USNA, but Bradley’s been around Naval Aviators his entire life and knows how they are, for the most part. Bunch of egotistical adrenaline junkies. Himself included, although he likes to try and temper his own ego by being as friendly and hopefully genuinely likeable as possible. Of course, being professional and maintaining some sense of distance can be difficult when he just wants to roll his eyes and tell the guy to grow up.

                “Just concentrate on your own flying and don’t worry about beating me.”

                They’re all good pilots. Of course they are. But Jake Seresin just seems to take the cast of egotistical and break the mold. He’s just so full of himself and the most annoying part of it is that it’s completely justified. He is that good, but he also gives off waves that he doesn’t feel like he has anything left to learn and Bradley knows he can’t be the only one feeling a little frustrated with his attitude sometimes. He asks the other instructors, in a round-about way, and he gets amused looks and told that he’ll learn to manage that with experience.

                Then there is how Seresin looks. He’s very nice to look at, Bradley isn’t going to lie to himself about it, and he wouldn’t kick him out of bed, however he’d have to like his personality enough first to invite him there, and that isn’t happening anytime soon. Definitely not while they’re at Top Gun, even if he thinks he could ask and get accepted, he doesn’t want to get a reputation for sleeping with students, that would be disastrous. It doesn’t stop him jerking off and thinking about Jake Seresin’s lips around his cock and he sends a couple of pictures to Jas during and after, telling him he misses him.

…            …            …

                Seventeen weeks feels like the blink of an eye and also, somehow, the longest drawn-out torture ever. He’s glad he has flying everyday, because somedays it’s the only thing that keeps him sane. Seresin seems to ask endless questions, some just bordering on disrespectful and he knows the other instructors find his frustration amusing, because he catches their poorly hidden smiles when he privately expresses his frustration to them, so he starts ignoring it as best he can.

                He doesn’t think he enjoys training and teaching enough to want to make this his career, not if every class is going to have people like Jake Seresin in it. He can’t bring himself to whine about it to Jas, not when he knows he’s so busy with his own specialty training, so he does the next best thing and rings Natasha, exchanging pleasantries before just launching into the complaining when she asks how the training aspects are going.

                “I just can’t seem to teach him anything! He just rubs me the wrong way.”

                “Well, you definitely want to be rubbing something…”

                “Jesus Natasha!”

                “What? It’s not going to get you kicked out or anything anymore…”

                “I’m not going to sleep with him!”

                “Would you? If that were an option? Is he hot?”

                “I don’t know. Have you met Jake Seresin?”

                “Oh. Definitely hot. He’s also Javy’s best friend.”

                “Javy huh?” Bradley asks, wanting to steer their conversation away from his inconvenient attraction to the most annoying person he’s ever met.

                “Shut up. At least I know what the guy I’m interested in looks like…”

                “Yeah yeah, whatever. I had noticed they were pretty tight.”

                “Yeah. Tight as brothers. Academy and flight school buddies. Hopefully Javy’s actual brothers are nicer.”

                “Well, they aren’t currently here driving me fucking insane, so that’s already a point in their favor.”

                “How is Javy doing?”

                “He’s good. Everyone here is good. You should be here.”

                “I’ll get my turn.”

                “Yeah you will.”

…            …            …

                “You know, the other instructors, they call you a rooster, because you get up so early so you can get up and fly before class.”

                Bradley grunts, because if he ignores him, maybe he’ll go away. He knows the other instructors call him that, and he doesn’t mind it, because there are far worse nicknames he could have landed himself with. This one has been an almost affectionate one, given to him with a ruffle to his hair and a wink.

                “I wanted to see if you’d be interested in getting a drink.”

                “With you?”

                “Yes.”

                “No, that wouldn’t be appropriate.”

                “We’re the same rank,” Seresin states, but Bradley is shaking his head.

                “I’m still an instructor.”

                Seresin’s lip curls, and it’s not in a nice way, but he’s stepping back, hands out in a no harm no foul gesture and Bradley hates that he looks good even when he’s looking pissed off.

                “Your loss.”

                “I think I’ll live.”

…            …            …

                When the seventeen weeks come to an end, he finally allows himself to socialize with Bambi, taking her out for dinner as an apology for being so formal and professional for the last four months. Allows, for a given definition of allow, for her to sweep the floor with him at both darts and pool. Then he takes her back to his place where they make a video call to Natasha and have a proper catch-up. Of course the first thing Natasha asks is if he’s slept with Seresin yet which has Bambi cackling and telling her all about the times Seresin seemed to be an ass solely to try and get Bradley’s attention.

…            …            …

>>You ever wonder what would happen if you did something different?

>>Only every fucking day.

#online and anonymous #Hangster #Sereshaw #hangman x rooster #Top Gun Maverick fanfic

[samandcolbyownme]

more zach justice smut pleaseeee

As you WISH! I’m excited to write this one!

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language/swearing, sneaking around, Bridgerton setting/themed, unprotected sex, kissing, biting, hair pulling, secret sex, almost getting caught, lots of proper language/actions, and lots of fluff and nasty filth

This is inspired by Bridgerton. There will be no spoilers for part 1 of season 3! But, if you have seen the show, you know they’re all british.. so.. read this as if everyone has an accent.

Word Count: 3.5k | not edited

I genuinely thought this song was bridgerton coded for this specifically?? (also, I added this at the end, so instead of daddy it will be mother - when you read, it’ll make sense, hopefully, k love you all bye!)

◦❥•◦❥•◦

You’ve been tossing and turning for hours into the late night.

Your mind bouncing back and forth between Duke Zachary, or as he likes only you to call him, Zach, and the Queen’s ball.

You loved Zach, you’ve come to love him with your full being, you just didn’t know if he knew that, but you didn’t think he was that foolish.

You were named, what the gossip letter in your town - Lady Felicity calls, the Diamond of the season. Mainly because you gained a lot more looks than any of the other girls who are also looking for a suitor along side yourself.

You wanted a husband, of course, but you want Zach to be the one to take your hand in marriage. He’s never said about if he wanted to or not, but you just wanted him so bad you didn’t care what you had to do or say.

You were wrapped around his finger, but he couldn’t deny it no matter how hard he tried - He was wrapped around yours, too.

You rolled over, staring up at the ceiling as you remember the first time you saw him.

- Your mother reaches over, tapping your knee gently, “Y/n, sweetheart.” You remove your stare from the window and place it onto her with a soft smile, “Yes Mother?”

“You look beautiful tonight, darling.” She smiles, placing the edge of her fan to her lips as her eyes grow watery, “oh.” She shakes her head, “I just knew you would be this seasons diamond.”

You shake your head as you look down, “I don’t recall you ever taking a liking to Lady Felicity, now Mother, I-..” The carriage jolts forward and you laugh slightly, “I will find a husband on my own terms. Lady Felicty can speak about whatever they must.”

The door opens and your mother steps out first, followed by your brother and sister, and then you. You look around, nodding your head at the man who helped you step down.

“Alright.” Your mother says as she links her arm with yours, “Come along, my dear. I hear there’s a Duke looking for a lady to wed.” You raise your eyebrows, “A Duke you say? Is he handsome?” You laugh slightly, eyes glancing around at the beautifully decorated ballroom.

“From what I’ve come to know, he is the most beloved suitor by all the young ladies.” Your mother nudges your side, “But just remember, you need to keep your options open.”

You walk up to Queen Darcie and the person closest to her, Lady Caswel. You both do a small curtsy as you bow your heads. “Your Majesty.” Your mother smiles, looking over to Lady Caswel, “Lady Caswel.”

They both nod and then their eyes turn to you. You give them both a smile, “You both look magnificent tonight.”

“Mm.” Queen Darcie nods, “I must say, agreeing with town gossip is not my strongest moment, but you my dear, are the diamond of the season, if I do say so myself.” She points to you and you manage to keep your composure, “Oh my, thank you, your majesty.”

You curtsy to her again and your mother thanks her quickly before walking away with you. You look up at her and you both can’t help but giggle happily as you walk further away. As you rounded the corner, you were bumped into, kind of roughly, by some man walking by.

“Excuse yourself, mister.” You say as you turn, giving him a glaring look, which quickly broke as soon as his eyes met yours, “Please, accept my apologies, um..”

You instantly finish his sentence, “Y/n y/l/n.”

“Please.” He repeats as he moves closer, his hand, his grip just hovering over the skin on your bicep, “My apologies, Miss Y/n.”

His hand moves down to take your hand in his. His lips press against your glove covered knuckles, and even thought his isn’t touching your skin, his touch still sets you on fire.

Giving you a feeling you have never felt for someone before, “Duke Zachary.” —

You let out a sigh before finally giving in to just being awake.

A yawn slips out as you swing your legs over the edge of the bed, reaching forward to grab your satin robe off of the arm of the chair by your bedside stand.

You slip your feet into your matching slippers before standing up. The back of the robe falling to cover the back of your legs as you tie it closed in the front.

You pause, your fingers coming up to cover your lips as your eyes meet the man you shouldn’t be seeing, like this at least.

You glance over your shoulder before you move to unlock your window and push it open. You lean forward, shaking your head as you fight back laughter as you watch the man scale the walls of your home to get to you.

He’s finally face to face with you and you can’t help but smile and lunge in to kiss him.

He wraps an arm around your waist, pushing you backwards as he climbs in and closes the window, “Have you missed me, sweetheart?” He whispers against your lips as his hands move to undo the bow resting on your torso.

“More than you can ever imagine.” You smile as you pull him back to your bed, “We have to be qu-“

He kisses you mid sentence, mumbling a quiet, “I know” before pushing you back to lay on the bed, his body moving up over yours, kissing the skin that isn’t being covered by your robe or nightgown.

“Please.” You beg as you lace your fingers through his hair, “Touch me. It has been far..” His hand drags your nightgown up your thigh.

“Too..” you breathe out as you feel his hand dip between your, now parting thighs, “Long, my darling.”

You lay your hand on his neck, biting down on your lip as your feel his lips press against your skin, his fingers moving to lay on your clit and he looks up at you with a smirk, “Mm, no panties, sweetheart?”

You bite your lip, giving him a shrug, “Couldn’t sleep.”

He licks his lips, parting them as he watches your face twist with pleasure as he starts to slowly rub circles on your clit.

Your nails dig into his neck and you let out a semi loud moan. Zach kisses your parted lips, your panting breathes brushing against his, “Shh.”

He slides two fingers down and pushes them into your soaked cunt, “Did you succeed with pleasuring yourself?”

You whimper as Zach’s question makes a rose colored tint appear a top your cheeks, “N-no.” He tilts his head, “No? Did you do it like I showed you, darling?”

You nod, rolling your hips as you desperately chase your release that’s building up rather quickly, “I-I tried, Zachary.”

He groans at his full first name coming from your lips, “We shall work on it another time, my love.” He leans in, moving his lips with yours and your hands pull him closer to you, whimpering against his lips as his fingers are dragging you over the edge.

He pushes his bicep under your head and curls his arm around to lay his hand over your mouth.

Your walls squeeze his fingers as they work you through your high, his other hand keeping your moans from getting the two of you caught.

That would be a nightmare, people knowing that you have been, as they say, defiled before marriage.

“I have missed this.” Zach whispers, “I have missed you.” He plants a few kisses to your cheek as he withdrawals his fingers from you.

He brings them up to rest upon your bottom lip and they part like they already knew what to do.

He gasps as he watches your lips wrap around them, humming as your tongue works up and down, licking off the taste of yourself, “If anyone knew.. just how devious you truly are..”

He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth as his eyes scan over your face and you smirk, bringing your finger up drag along his jawline, “And just what would they say?”

You hum lowly as your eyes meet his, “Do tell me, my darling.”

He rolls over, pinning your hands down by your head, “I think they would go on a ravenous tangent about how I defiled your pureness and ruined such a beautiful..” he kisses your chest, “young woman.”

He groans into your neck as his tongue drags up your skin, “But they wouldn’t be saying those things if they knew just how radiant you look beneath the touch of my own hand.”

You moan out at his words and his kiss cuts it short. While your lips move in a heated passion, his hand moves down to drag your nightgown up your legs and hold it at your waist while he grinds against you.

Your hand that isn’t still pinned down, moves down to undo the button on his trousers. Zach smirks and shakes his head, “Getting so much quicker at that.”

You smile and slip your hand in, both of you gasping quietly when your hand slides against his cock.

Zach reaches down, laying a hand over yours, “I need to be inside of you.”

You move to take off your panties as quick as you can, all while he’s pushing his trousers down his thighs, “so beautiful.” He leans forward, eyes locked onto yours as your legs fall over your waist.

You feel the tip of his cock rub against your opening and you feel your heart beating faster, “P-please.” You whisper, hips practically moving on their own, begging for the feeling of his cock inside of you.

Zach’s head falls, resting against your forehead as your moans from him sliding into you, mix together, “Oh, my god.” He sighs, shaking his head slightly, “It always feels like I’m taking you for the very first time again.”

You whimper as he crashes his lips onto yours, his hand sliding up to gently wrap around your neck, “I love you.”

You part your lips, adoring those words like you haven’t heard them over and over again.

You’d marry Zach now, but your mother thinks it’s best to give it a little while, make sure you truly feel happy with him, and not just because of his title.

Your mother would turn into an absolute lunatic if she knew just how often you see Duke Zachary and also, what you do with him when no one is watching.

“I love you.” You whisper, nodding up at him as you lay a hand on his cheek, “I love you.”

He pulls you close to him, rolling over onto his back. He grips your hips, getting you to keep moving. He moves the nightgown that fell down to block his view, “You take me so incredibly well, darling.”

You look down at him, biting into your lip to muffle your moans as your hands push his crumpled dress shirt up.

He reaches up, pulling down the low cut neckline so it’s under your breasts. His eyes focus on his hands moving to knead and squeeze, earning whimpers from you.

You gasp loudly and Zach pulls you down onto his chest, his arms wrap around your back before he begins to thrust upward.

You bury your face into his chest, gasping and clawing at his chest as you feel suddenly feel nothing but pleasure radiate all through your body.

It wasn’t long after, Zach’s hips come to a slow stop, his arms loosen around your body and his chest heaves you up and down with each quick breath he takes.

It’s silent, nothing but the faint pants coming from your bodies, which lay motionless together on your bed.

“The Queen’s Ball is tonight.” You say as your eyes glance over at the clock on your nightstand that reads 04:26 AM, “I’m going with Mother in a few hours to fetch my dress from the Modiste.”

You sit up, fixing your nightgown before standing, “Mother thinks I should explore more options.”

Zach furrows his brows, sitting up as soon as the words leave your lips, “Hang on, that doesn’t make any sense, I thought she loved me?”

You laugh slightly, “She does, darling. She does. And I do, too.” You lean down to kiss his lips, “I think the Queen wants to watch the men fall for this seasons diamond.”

“Mm.” Zach nods, pursing his lips, “I’m going to have to put up a harder fight out there, huh?”

You cover your mouth as you giggle, crawling back into his lap, “I think it’s quite..” you scrunch your nose and smirk, “Sexy.”

He straights his posture and smiles, “Well, thank you m’lady.” You laugh and press kisses to his neck. He pulls his neck away and turns his face into hours, “I don’t believe we have time to go again, my love.”

You sigh, still attempting to kiss him, “Are you certain?”

He chuckles quietly and lifts his hand and grabs you by the neck. You gasp at the sudden move and he pushes you back, biting his lip at how much control he has over you, what you and Duke Zachary have is once in a lifetime.

“My mind isn’t going to be able to focus on the Queen’s Ball tonight.” He shakes his head, eyes moving from his hand to your eyes, “Not when I have the imagine of my hand wrapped around this beautiful little throat in there, as well.”

Your breath hitches at his words and he can’t help but smirk, “I’ll see you tonight.” He pulls you in, pecking your lips before moving to fix himself as he walks over to your window.

“Be safe.” You stand up, watching as he climbs out the open window. He looks up at you and gives you a wink, “Always.”

And with that, he’s gone, but you knew you were definitely seeing him way before the Queen’s Ball.

◦❥•◦❥•◦

Your secret romance with Duke Zachary has been going on since the night he ran into you, even after the nights you spent dancing and flirting with other men, mainly just to make your other and the Queen happy.

You and Zach both knew that it didn’t mean anything. You saved everything for him, especially when you got him alone afterwards.

You were certain, as soon as you laid eyes on him, that he was the one, and just like you told Zach, you were the diamond of the season.

You had more suitors coming to your home to try and swoon you in a day than you really thought was unnecessary.

Zach, of course. Showed up everyday and stayed until they all left. He intimidated them, which you couldn’t help but snicker secretly at when you seen the look on the losing suitors face.

You can never bring yourself to ask Zach about it, you just convince yourself that it’ll happen, but it’s almost the end of the season and you haven’t had a ring slipped on your finger yet.

You took a deep breath, smoothing your hands over the fabric of the beautiful dress beneath your bare hands, “Anastasia did a marvelous job.”

You look over at your mother in the mirror, “Don’t you think, mother?”

Your mother looks up, “Oh yes. Yes. I believe she did do a very-“

“What is it?” You cut her off, turning to face her. The housemaid glances up at you and you sigh slightly, trying to compose yourself, “Sorry.”

You look up at your mother and she tilts her head, “The Queen wants you engaged by tonight.”

“Tonight? Why so soon? What has changed, mother?”

She tilts her head, “You are drawing.. too much attention away from the other girls. The Queen thinks it is best you accept one of the engagements you already have extended out to you.

You feel a dull ache in your chest.

The engagements.

You were actually dreading this, but you can only blame yourself in this situation. You were too caught up with sneaking around and lying to everyone around you that you’re forced to pick one of the options given and the one you one isn’t there.

“Talia. Please give my mother and I a moment.” You glance down at your housemaid and she instantly leaves the room.

“I love Duke Zachary, mother.” You shift towards her, moving the loose skirt of your gown with your hands, “He loves me. I know he’ll propose, I just..”

“He’s..” she steps close, leaning in, “Your brother told me that he’s what they call.. a rake.. I believe.”

You shake your head, “If Duke Zachary spent his time at that underground drunken gambling ring, he would know about the three engagement offers.”

Your mother raises her brows, “And you know this how, sweetheart?”

“He would have spoken to me about it, of course.” You swallow, “On our afternoon walks, he would have asked me what I was going to do because he is still an eligible suitor to me, mother.”

She nods, “Very well then.” She takes a deep breathe, “If Duke Zachary does not propose before midnight tonight. You will accept another suitors proposal. Right.”

“No.” You shake your head, “I won’t, mother. You cannot make me marry someone I do not love and I promise you I will not love anyone like I love Zachary.”

You step down off of the platform, “I will marry him. I will have him children.”

Your mother’s eyes grow wide and she lays a hand on her chest, “Have yo-

You bite down on your lip, “I’m not, but you should see your face.” You raise your brows, laughing at the fact that Zach has rubbed off on you in more ways that. One.

Your mother scoffs, “Y/n. You will not disgrace the name of this family by not obeying the queens order. You will be engaged by to-“

“I’ll tell you something right now, mother. I would rather burn my whole life down than to do something that will not bring me joy for the rest of my life.”

She stares at you for a few moments, “Is there a reason he hasn’t proposed yet, darling? Has that thought crossed your thoughts at all?”

You shake your head, “Have you not heard the rumors? What lady Felicity has said about Duke Zachary and I?” You walk over, ”He is poetry, and I am his poet.. Please, mother. Give him time.”

She shakes her head, “We must do what the Queen has asked of us.”

You take a few steps back, bunching up your dress as you shake your head, “No.” You run towards the door, dress unbuttoned and ruffling behind you as you run down the hall.

Your mother running out the door after you, “No! Y/n, come back here!”

“Mother no.” Your eldest brother grabs her and holds her back.

You make your way out the front doors, a small crowd following you, unsure of what’s happening, they’re just trying to ensure your safety.

“Y/n!”

You freeze, tear soaked face looking up at Zach, “Zach?” You whisper, barely audible, “What.. what are-“

You stop walking when Zach drops down to one knee, “Y/n..” he starts, reaching out for your hands, “My love.”

You walk up to him immediately, placing your hands into his, not even bothering to wipe away your tears.

“I love you. The other day you asked me why I love you and I told you the truth. You feel like home to me. You have bewitched me. Your mind, your body. Your soul. You complex me in the best ways and I just have this fire within me that only your kiss can put out.” He pulls you down to his level and you sit on your knees, hands moving to cup his cheeks as his do the same to you.

“The most beautiful part about all of this, is that I wasn’t even looking when I found you. If you hadn’t snapped at me for bumping into you, I would have kept moving right along.”

You laugh slightly and sniffle. Zach wipes away your tears and looks into your eyes, “Will you choose me to be the one to spend the rest of your life with?”

“You know about the other engagements?” You squint your eyes and Zach nods, “Well, when you’re running down the street trying to get to you while listening to your sister scream that you need to be engaged by tonight, I got the rest myself.”

“My sis-“ you look over at your sister and she smiles, giving you a small wave. You laugh, “Unbelievable.” You look at Zach, “So what are you asking Duke Zachary?”

He smiles, “I believe, I’m asking if you will do me the honor in marrying me, Miss Y/n.”

He pulls out a ring from his suit pocket and you gasp, “Oh my gosh.” You look up at him, nodding, “Yes, over and over. Yes.”

You pull him in for a kiss and everyone around you cheers as he brings you to your feet, slipping the ring in before he lifts you up, lips on yours as he spins you around, “I love you.”

“I love you.”

◦❥•◦❥•◦

Let me know what you thought of this! As always, I love you all and thank you for reading!! 🖤🖤

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!!

#samandcolby-ownme #Zach justice #inspired by bridgerton #bridgerton #bridgerton fic #Zach justice x reader #Zach justice smut #smut #dirty one shot zach justice #dirty one shot #zach justice dropouts podcast #zach justice fanfiction #zach justice fluff #zach justice x reader smut #zach justice x y/n #zach justice dropouts #zach justice fanfic #Zach justice dirty one shot #bridgerton smut

[randomalistic]

Context i tried to color lineart

#vent #sneo is mad. #my new tablet is cool and all it’s just . really hard adjusting to new things especially when I haven’t drawn in a while #and it sucks bc I wanna draw SOOO FUCKING BAD but everything I make I spend like 5 hours on and I’m not happy with and #It will get better I’m just in the Rage Pit For Today. #ripping and shredding various objects. #and I’m also very unsatisfied with my amount of uncolored work and my lack of creativity when it comes to coloring #I’m being hard on myself but I can’t help it when I want to make everything I see in my head just how it is #but I always have to settle becuase that’s what every artist does idfk #also that was a lot but I got back into it and colored and had fun lmfao #AFTWR ALL THAT!

[pepprs]

crying again lol ok

#purrs #and posting online abt it so i get immediate validation / support instead of asking for help from anyone im close to i know. but god fucking #damn it to hell. ok im going to be candid about this because it hurts so fucking bad. five years ago i met someone so important to me. and I #miss her so so so so much. and every space here i have a memory with her in. and she left in July and she’s gone. and im sobbing my eyes out #FOR WHY because it was over 6 months ago and im happier and she’s happier and we’re all happier. but i think im getting some aftershocks #being here for the first time without her exactly 5 years to the week we met: when she was so important to me. she was the whole reason i #even saw myself as something. and she’s fucking gone. she left. but she’s not dead like LMAO idk why im crying so hard when i could just #text her any time and tell her that i miss her. but idk. it’s just everything is stirring memories and they’re painful to think about now or #at least today because she’s gone and it all changed. i was just saying that i feel like im not having any emotions and tonight the grief ju #just rammed into me like a train and my fucking counselor sucks ass and won’t even help me work through it and everyone is busy and tired an #and im a staff coach so im not supposed to be having a fuckjng mental breakdown over **** pacing around in my bathroom at 1:23am but ive be #been thinking about her so much and remembering all the formative interactions i had with her here and missing her so much i want to explode #and die and p*ke and whatever. so stupid to cry about it but i fucking miss her. and i hate that she’s not here. and i’m trying so hard to b #be her but i have to be me but i can’t not have what she brought here and im just crashi ng and burning and can’t be honest and im having a #breakdown and crying so hard and i don’t know what to do. i ithink i’ll be fine after some sleep and reflection but my heart is like seizing #on itself right now and nothing takes my mind off it and i just keep crying LMFAOOOOOO. i hate it here #delete later #like how can you look at me like that and then fuck off to ****** 4.5 years later. you know? im about to punch a hole into the hallway #and i have to be quiet bc ppl are trying to sleep but it’s making me fucking crazy. #retreat tag

[ecoamerica]

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[bulletsfrank]

some days i do feel like envy in his little tiny grub form from fmab. i just want love and i’ve been treated so badly by myself and everyone around me and the WORLD even that i have become so bitter and cold and jealous and i hate it. i want the love everyone else has so bad it makes me ill. but i can’t find it because i’m so closed off due to past trauma and friendships that ended badly. too scared of ridicule, too scared of being unliked, too scared of being anything besides what i am now, which is completely alone and devoid of any real human connections. anything else feels like knives. i cant be close to anyone because i feel like i’m putting a burden on them.

my existence is a burden. to be my friend, to be close to me, is a burden that is insurmountable. i wish i could be okay with the loneliness. i wish i could be okay waking up to nothing on my phone. i wish i could be okay without people thinking of me. but i want the warmth so badly. that’s all i’ve ever fucking wanted and i never got it. ever since i was tiny and begging my mom and dad to stop fighting. there was no time of softness for me. i just want to fall into love like a pillow. friends holding a cake that says HAPPY BIRTHDAY (i have never had a single birthday party) and we watch movies and play games and i don’t wonder where the love is for me.

i don’t think i’ll ever be brave enough. so alone i have to be. i’m really sorry to myself for this. i wish i could be stronger and reach out, but my arm is cut off at the crook. i cant reach any farther, i don’t have anything left to give.

#i’ve never been able to make boundaries bedayse i want to be liked so badly #so i go along with and agree with anything anyone says and i hold in my anger and sadness when they say something that hurts #i’m the problem. i know i am. but every time i try to speak out .. my past friendships + relationships + my Parents.. i can’t speak up #about anything without being yelled at. setting a boundary to me is an argument that’s going to happen #i’ve never been able to look out for myself. i crushed myself into this tiny ball that tries so hard not to bother anyone #but i’m about to lose it. i hate myself. i hate everything i do. there’s no warmth #i cant stand up for myself and it will be my downfall #i don’t want anyone to be mad at me i can’t handle it #i cant handle it. i cant handle it i cant handle anger. and when i ask for love #i expect anger back. i expect ridicule. how could you ever ask that #ha.. i’m nothing now ... i’m completely devoid. what is a heart without warmth ? #i don’t help either i’m a bad friend. i’m boring and always say the wrong things... so idk what i expect #honey’s words

[hobisexually]

long winded rant in the tags coming that’s partly about weight but in a very unfiltered sad way so if that triggers you do Not read on

#on holiday I was like oHHHHH this is what living in the moment is! What listening to your body is! what not worrying about how you look is #but doing what makes you happy #and then …… I came home and got sent the pictures #+ my friend being. unintentionally fatphobic as fuck #while hurtful as fuck too #and it’s all just been piling up too since I got home because I’ve been having a lot of conversations and seeing a lot of people that #confront me with who I used to be and who I am now and how I’m really not happy with that #and it feels like it’s not gonna get better #like I’m destined to be in a job I like but isn’t what I want because I’m not capable enough and I’ll never know what romantic requited love #feels like. I’ll never cure my vaginismus I’ll never be able to let someone in or they won’t want me this is just it for me #and SOMEHOW the way I look has become the ultimate culmination of all those things? #my face is suddenly a woman in her thirties face #I keep gaining weight despite not even eating all that much because FUCKING PCOS makes it impossible #my hair in my face grew back. my stomach is hairy and that plus the added beer belly just makes it look like I’m a 50 year old man #I am soooooooo tired of the dysphoria #and the way pcos ruins fucking everything because I can restrict calories all I want and move all I want but will it help ? No ! #and of the fact that it impacts the way I feel about myself so much because I’m convinced now I’ll never find anyone #should have tried harder when I was 21 because that was the only time in my life I reasonably fit society’s standards like That was my shot #I’ve been taking supplements everyone says will help but I’m not sure I noticed anything in the past six months and I can’t take berberine #because it fucks with my heart medication. which. That too. I have that too #and I’m in pain! All the time now! ALL THE TIME so I can’t even work out to keep the weight stable because guess what ? #just after a normal day at the office I come home and have to lie down because everhthing hurts so much ! #today I got an impromptu massage in an attempt to feel better but it didn’t fix shit and I had to buy clothes for kings day after #and I didn’t try them on just quickly grabbed some orange shit to try on at home and at what I saw in the mirror I genuinely got nauseous #I just don’t know who that is in the mirror but it’s not me and I can’t accept it. I’ve been trying so hard but I can’t #it genuinely makes me so sad and I keep telling myself that a reduction will help in feeling more like myself and it will help with the pain #but what if it doesn’t? what if my pain doesn’t go away after af all and my stomach just juts out and I feel like a gremlin all the time #what then. what the fuck do we do then. also I’m so fucking scared of that surgery anyway that I don’t fucking want to do it anymore #I want so many things and all of them feel out of reach and I know my own brain is my worst enemy and it’s not rooted in anything real but. #Isn’t it? really — isn’t it???????

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

#I love my bestie and trust that he’s telling me the truth about a family emergency being the reason he’s cancelling our concert plans #but he flakes on me every single time we make plans together to do anything so it’s hard to be as understanding when there’s a pattern here #and after all the shit he’s told me his brother has done to him why are you still helping him?? I can’t relate to this whole idea of do #anything for family even if your family is trash and would never do the same for you #probably because I have family who is trash and would never do anything for me and I cut them off real quick when I was able #I do not believe in letting people stick around who do nothing but use you and hurt you #so I want to be sympathetic and understanding but couldn’t be me and can’t relate so I’m struggling #plus the constant flaking on me makes me less compassionate as well #I bought these concert tickets months in advance and he was supposed to pay for the hotel room for us to stay out after the show #and yeah he’ll pay me back which is nice but doesn’t really change the fact that I’m currently out that money and everything else #and if my partner or stepdad can’t come with me last minute like this then I’ll have to just sell the tickets back to Ticketmaster #because I really don’t want to go by myself since it’s my first concert and I’d feel awkward and uncomfortable being alone there #was already having trouble sleeping and now I got this fucking nonsense to deal with #guess it’s my own fault for making plans with someone I know never keeps them #personal

[werewolfrevenge]

Vent in tags (aka I just woke up and I really feel blah and I can’t talk about these feelings properly until tomorrow)

#genuinely I’m so sick of trying to interact with people and never getting that energy back #it’s so fucking discouraging like I know I’m not entitled to people interacting with me yes I know that! #but it still hurts when I make an effort to put myself out there and just rarely get anything back in return #maybe my bpd is just making that rejection feel worse! that’s a possibility #but it still is upsetting I guess? because I’ve worked so hard on being comfortable putting myself out there and trying my hardest to be #cool interacting with people…..so it feels like I’ve done something wrong? I guess? like despite everything I’ve done there’s something #wrong with me that makes people not want to talk to me #I don’t know I’ll talk with my therapist about in tomorrow and see if that can’t help me talking about these feelings #and also by expressing these feelings I don’t want to make anyone feel bad so I’ve held them to my chest #but I can’t hide how it makes me feel because it hurts…..it upsets me and that’s okay! #maybe it’s a selfish way to feel but maybe it’s okay for me to be selfish #so long as I don’t make it anyone else’s problem then it’s okay for me to be upset right? #delete later #a bleeding blossoming wound

[amourane]

kick in the right direction

pairing: football player!seungcheol x mascot!reader

genre: fluff, university au

w/c: 0.9k

summary: seungcheol is the star football player in your university but he becomes a bumbling mess in front of you.

warnings: none, you do get hit by a ball though

a/n: i have decided to start writing fics for seventeen too because i just love them way way too much <3 also disclaimer this post used to be under my old url httphannie <3

Seungcheol doesn’t know what to say. He usually has an explanation for his actions. There doesn’t seem to be anything coming to his mind when he sees you on the ground. The problem with being the star player on the football team was the amount of trust his coach put on him. As well as the thought that they needed to win every game, that wasn’t a problem though because Choi Seungcheol was a beast when he was in game mode. His aim was the best on the whole team, he’d never missed a goal. 

Obviously today was an off day.

“You’re staring, Cheol.” Jeonghan gives him a hearty slap on the back. “You really like our school mascot don’t you?” All Seungcheol can do is nod, watching as Seungkwan helps you up.

He really wants to go over and say sorry for nearly knocking you out with his kick but he can’t. Not because he doesn’t want to but because he simply can’t. It’s stupid really. Choi Seungcheol, star player of the football team, can’t say two words when he’s faced with you. He’s tried speaking to you. Once after a game, not the best choice because he’d become so nervous he spilt his water bottle all over you. Even after you told him it was fine he was still stuttering his words. Another time he’d managed to catch you walking down the hallway. The moment you smiled and said ‘hi’ his mind blanked. No words could come out of his mouth and he stood there gaping like a goldfish.

Talking to girls was easy for Seungcheol. He could give them a smile and they’d be fawning all over him. You were different. There isn’t one time he’s had a full conversation with you with nothing embarrassing happening. He’d stumble over his words or nothing would come out of his mouth. The only thing that kept him from giving up was the fact you would grin every time he came up to you and he didn’t like giving up.

“Of course I like her!” Seungcheol runs a hand through his hair. “I just don't know what to do?”

“You could ask her out.”

“I can’t!” 

His friend arches an eyebrow, clearly puzzled. "What do you mean you can't ask her out? Like you're scared, or you don't know how to, because those two are completely different things." Jeonghan's tone is gentle but probing, urging Seungcheol to confront the root of his hesitation.

“That’s not it. I’ve got everything planned out. I know what to say and I know where I want to bring her to. There’s a whole plan in my notebook, it’s coloured in and everything!”

“Then what’s the problem?”

Seungcheol fiddles with the hem of his shirt. “Whenever I go up to her to ask her out my throat closes and I can’t find the right words. Or when I try to even write my confession, my hand freezes and no letters can be written. It’s even worse because I manage to make a fool of myself whenever I’m in front of her!” He kicks the football away.

Jeonghan sighs, staring at Seungcheol as he aimed a perfect kick to the goal. The boy was completely enamoured by you. Practically the whole school knew about his crush on you. Everyone was just waiting for the day the both of you would come in hand in hand. 

//

“Y/n, oh my god! Are you okay?” Seungkwan was shaking you by your shoulders. You rub your head. That football was really hard. Who knew air could hurt you? “How many fingers am I holding up?” He waves three fingers around and your eyes struggle to adjust to his trembling hand.

“Calm down. I just got hit in the head, I don’t have a concussion or anything.” You just know there’s going to be a huge bump on your forehead tomorrow. “It’s partly Stuart’s fault.” You pat the dragon costume you had on. The fuzzy green body was heavy and the long swishy tail at the back was quite annoying to lug around.

"Why are you blaming our mascot? Stuart did nothing wrong," Seungkwan interjects, shooting a pointed glare at Seungcheol. "Star player my ass." He mutters under his breath, clearly unimpressed.

“Hey, don’t blame him. I’m sure it was an accident.” You give Seungcheol a little smile and an ‘okay’ sign to tell him everything was fine. 

“I can’t believe you like that dumbass, he can’t string two sentences together when he’s in front of you.” Seungkwan helps you up, handing you Stuart’s head. You dust off the dirt on your costume. 

What was there not to like about Choi Seungcheol? He was popular, athletic, smart and talented in everything. Not to mention he was the literal definition of eye candy. There hadn’t been many occasions where you two had met. He’d always stutter helplessly or his cheeks would resemble a fire truck, which was very endearing. It was quite funny seeing him stumble over his words whenever he tried to ask you out.

“Why don’t you just ask him out? You already know he likes you, not that he makes it the most obvious thing in the world.” 

“But isn't it just the cutest thing when he tries to ask me out but he’s a stuttering blushing mess?” You giggle when you catch sight of the pout Seungcheol has on his face. “I hope he asks me out soon though, I can’t wait to finally go on a date with him.” 

The smile you shoot at Seungcheol has him tripping over his feet, face planting into the ground. Suppressing your laughter behind your hand, you watch as he hurriedly picks himself up, only to see his teammates rolling on the floor with amusement.

“How long are you even willing to wait?”

“As long as it takes.”

#choi seungcheol #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol fluff #scoups x reader #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #choi seungcheol x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #seventeen scenarios #svt imagines #svt fluff #seungcheol imagines #scoups fluff #scoups imagines #scoups x you #seventeen scoups #seventeen #seungcheol scenarios

[screampied]

i’m obsessed with ur fics and want to live inside your pretty little brain, you just write jjk characters so well 🫠

recently i’ve been thinking about choso having a bad day or something and just wanting to be taken care of, so now you’re nursing him while you jerk him off and he’s a whiny moaning mess and it’s so cute and when he thinks you’re done with him you get on top and ride him and he’s begging you to stop bc he can’t take anymore pleasure :( like i’m sick over this i need him so bad

❤︎ ໋𓈒 pleasing choso after a long day.

warnings. fem! reader, overstim, jerking choso off, pampering choso bc he deserves it, whiney choso, cowgirl, creampıe, praise, mdni + thank u sm !!!

“. . please,” choso would murmur in a frail weak tone, he sounded so drowsy, so needy. he’s barely through the door before he wraps his strong bulky arms around you. you giggle, being squished between his warmth before he buries his face into your neck. he gently runs his tongue against your collarbone before continuing to speak in muffled sentences. “missed you so bad. had a long day ‘n just need to . . need to unwind.”

you smile, stroking his back lovingly. “aw, bad day today, ‘cho?” you’d sweetly reply, feeling him shudder from your touch alone. despite you being so gentle, he was always so incredibly weak around you, including a simple few electric touches from you. “of course baby, i’ll help you.”

“can….you help me um,” and he’s struggling to get the words out. the two of you were finally secluded together in the large spacey bedroom. choso’s laid back, shirtless and heavy heaving breaths depart from his lips every few seconds. the more you stare at him the more he finds it hard to swallow the growing lump in his throat. “can you do the thing? like last time?”

you giggle, glancing at the poking tent in his boxers. “a handjob, baby?”

“…handjob,” he repeats, his eyes softening before a mere whine escapes from his throat. “oh … yeah, that. please,” and his lungs felt so clouded. with a hand running through his hair, he sighs cutely. “yes p-please. i wanna handjob. i’d do it myself but you always do it better, p-princess.”

choso was so cute, the way he was basically putty underneath your hands..

his words always trembled, he wanted you more than anything. he was always like this whenever he came home, so needy each and everytime for nothing more than your simple addicting touch.

“okay,” you’d comply, just a single word that pours from your lips alone was so seductive to him. he could listen to your voice all day. it was his own type of harmony, a song he’d love to listen to every day on repeat if he could.

your voice.

you reach beside him near the black short nightstand, grabbing a lube bottle before making sure to not waste any time.

you could tell by choso’s dilated pupils and his irregular rapid pants that he was growing more and more impatient as the time passed.

“wanna feel you s-so bad,” he whimpers, tensing a little from the way your hand springs out his length, lubricating around his pulsating cock.

you always made sure to be thorough— slicking every inch of him down with the liquid, starting from his swollen tip, then down towards his shaft, then his base. of course, his balls too. whenever you fondled with his fat puffy balls, choso would make such the cutest whines imaginable. “f-fuck, m-more. hurry, princess.”

“baby, don’t rush me,” you tease, sitting right beside him before pressing a sweltering hot kiss against his temple. he whimpers at your touch yet again, the softness of your lips having him in utter shambles. you made sure to have your dominant hand pay close attention towards the head of his dick, the most neglected sensitive spot. he inhales then exhales, gnawing at his lip before dark eyes of his stares up at the idle ceiling fan. “mhm. you’re so pent up, must have had a really rough day, hm?”

“so h-horrible,” he pouts, despite his voice being naturally deep and a bit gruff, the delivery of how whiney he was was just so cute. “i’m just glad i always come home to you. y-you always know how to make me feel better.”

you simper, your hand finally fully wrapping around his base before you start to give him a few solid pumps.

he moans, thickly swallowing the remnants of sweet syrupy spit that remain all in his mouth.

so so good..

you drove him crazy in the right ways possible. choso felt a sudden ringing sensation rigorously vibrate throughout his ears. he felt hot all over, radiating with a staggering high temperature of scorching boiling heat.

the tempo you had with jerking him off was a decent pace at first, gradually fisting his cock with each concise stroke—you occasionally glance up at choso who’s panting up a storm. “. . . . ugh,” he mewls out through gritted teeth, a hand of his own attempting to grab towards yours. “i wanna touch you t-too.”

“no choso,” you sneer, moving his hand away.

oh, the pout that suddenly spreads across his lips was so cute.

he’s giving you puppy dog eyes as if he’s questioning you a perplexed little, ‘huh?’ whilst you’re still stroking him at such a quickening pace, you make sure he keeps his hands to himself. “you wanted me to touch you, not choso, ‘kay? let me do everything, be a good boy for me.”

“i-i’m sorry, sorry,” he mutters in short breaths, finding your tone to be so hot. the twitch he feels in his dick only gets him more aroused. for a split second, you feel a vein that ran down the middle of his shaft pulse against your palm. “you’re right. ‘m gonna let you please me. gonna be a good boy ‘n keep my hands to m-myself.”

you peck a kiss against his hot cheek. “so good for me.”

“p-praise me more, please.” he whines.

“choso,” you giggle, and he was more needier than usual today. his voice grew a bit more high the faster you stroke him—his beefy thigh starts to bounce and bounce before he’s leaning back in pleasure. “you want more praises?”

he nods. “i- i do, your voice ‘s so hot, so s-sexy,” and his breathing abruptly hitches once you give him a sly smile. “not the right word, that was inappropriate— i- i mean, attractive. your voice when you praise me ‘s so attractive, i want more.”

the way he corrects himself from his choice of words was adorable.

whenever you gave choso a handy though, he’d never really last long regardless. choso would usually only last a few good minutes, especially with your hand work, your techniques.. he was simply no match.

“i’ll praise you all day, baby,” you whisper, watching as he’s feeling himself get close. he’s so desperate to touch you. he wants to, to stroke himself with you, wrap his big hand against yours. choso bites his lip in anticipation— feeling how he’s steadily losing composure. immensely, he starts to feel his throat grow dry, the air felt richly thick and he starts to get more and more vocal. “close?”

“uh huh, uh huuh,” he nods, pretty long lashes of his squeezing shut. choso’s about to fall into that trance again, your speed had him losing his mind. in his mouth, he starts to salivate. you’re so steady and precise with your beats and pumps against his cock that he’s about to spiral completely. “princess, ‘m gonna make a mess. you’re gonna make me m-messy again.”

“be messy for me then,” you invigorate to him against his ear, playfully licking a stripe near the soft outer shell of his lobe. he shivers at that, so sensitive. again, if it was anything that could be considered as choso kamo’s weakness— it was your voice. “give it to me, c’mon ‘cho.”

he’s so hard, his dick was all slick and wet from the translucent colored lube running down the sides of his hefty shaft.

a shaky breath snatches out of choso’s mouth before his abs tense up.

a hand goes through his hair before he feels the pressure finally hit him. “shit, s-shitttt,” he whines, feeling the area of his frenulum pulse and pulse. he’s seeing pure splotches of white— once his climax comes, it takes merely everything out of him. static shoots out from his ears and he lets off a cute shriek. “a-ah.”

you stare at the mess he’d just paint on himself. a few spurts of his own sticky cum shoots against his tummy, right near his lower abdomen. choso’s eyebrows significantly lower before he lets off a cute, “phew..”

“want more?” you coo, unraveling your hand around his dick before staring at him— he returns your gaze with half-lidded dark eyes.

he nods, panting off a sweet desperate. “yes please.”

choso figured you were gonna stroke him off again, but his eyes briefly widen once you end up up making your way onto his lap. straddling him in such a lewdly titillating way, he gulps. the ringing throughout his ears reverberates louder before you align yourself against the wet tip of his cock.

he was so aroused, so needy, so in love..

being a half curse spirit— he’s never got to fully experience types of pleasure like this.

albeit, he was always grateful to you for being able to show him everything he was missing out on though. with his bottom lip quivering, he gasps once he feels you slowly sinking down onto his length, feeling the warm pool of heat introduce itself to his cock that’s gradually splitting you open.

“oh…..fuck,” he’d groan, and at this particular point, his voice grows a raspy low. hooded eyes stare at you, studying your every move. from fixating his pupils on your hips, your chest, and even your face— he just couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. “y-you’re gonna ride me?”

“yes baby,” you throw your arms around him, pulling him into a deep sensual kiss. he’s panting, each breath feels like it’s gonna be its last with you. warm tongues tangle and tango amongst each other before you briefly suck on his. a whine pulls from his throat before he feels your hips start to jerk.

abruptly, choso pulls away, whimpering a sweet. “can— can i touch you now at least? please. f-fuck, can’t take it anymore princess.”

“touch me however you’d like, pretty boy,” you’d speak in a hushed tone, licking another long strike against his neck. he was so sensitive, his eyes were practically about to roll all the way back by this point. you’re easing your sloppy cunt down onto his length and his roughly textured hands grab against your hips. choso then spanks your ass, only to give it a mean squeeze afterward just to see you gasp. “like touching me, huh?”

“y-you know i do,” he pouts, feeling the deep stretch. it was so so good— mouth watering, a perfect way to describe his mouth at the feeling of your pussy taking him in in such a sloppy, erotic way. already, you were a bit soaked from earlier, coating his base with a candied gossamer ring of your slick arousal. “my god, my g-goddd.” he throws his head back once you start to move against him.

a few solid rhythmic thrusts and choso kamo was done for.

he stuffs you full of inches, you lean up close to his face to plant your lips against the bridge of his nose— softly smooching against the area where his darkened scar remained. pink wet lips of his quaver from that simple action and his grip against your hips only tightens.

clammy, sweaty hands guide your hips to fuck against him harder before his head leans back. “fuck me, f-fuck me, jus’ fuck me pleaseeee. can’t c-cum, don’t think i can come anymore.”

choso becomes more whiny, his voice starting to strain overtime and you feel your stomach briefly seizing from how deep he’s hitting you.

relentlessly, you’re moving against him so good that not even he can keep up with you. your pussy’s the perfect match for him, fitting nice and snug like a lock fits inside a key.

oh, but the grip..

the grip of your sopping wet cunt against his dick was so appetizing, he only wanted more. more more more, the squelching noises had him feral and by now, with a tight enough grip he’s helping you slam down against his lap. “hah, can’t . . ‘m not gonna cum again, baby, f-fuck. fuck me so good, i—i love you, love you ‘s much.”

“i love you too baby,” you moan yourself, pulling him back into a steamy kiss. his sweetened whines and whimpers pour right into your mouth, ravened strands of his hair sticking against his forehead like glue. choso was drenched in sweat, perspiring such amounts that it makes his skin glisten entirely. “yes you can,” you hum between sultry breaths, coating his entire face with your kisses. you watch as his eyebrows arch and he squeezes against your ass just a bit tighter. he loves the recoil— spanking your ass just to witness and see the jiggle, it had his dick twitching even more. “you can give me one more, know you can, baby.”

“f-fuck, you’re gonna make a mess outta me,” he whimpers. the way you grind against him has him going feral by the second. hot deep breaths wretch from his throat before his head goes back. he leans all the way back, washboard abs flexing and curling up. with a single finger of yours running down his sharp chiseled v-line, he nearly loses it. your touch, his ultimate weakness. “gonna c-cum again, ‘m gonna flood your pussy again, oh fuuuuck.”

with your arms still lazily thrown around him, choso hugs you tightly, pumping further into your gummy walls that clamp him down oh so good before he ends up cumming again. this time, inside. it’s so hot from the inside—your pussy was all toasty, balmy from every crevice of your walls and the addictive hold it has on him. he shoots a long thick rope into you, it comes out into satiny spurts, filling you up to the very brim.

choso’s reaction was so cute, he’s literally speechless, yet his grip against your ass doesn’t even lessen. his face was practically covered with strands of his hair, half lidded eyes and a pussy drunken smile curling against his thin crimson red lips. “i— oh my,” he hiccups, catching his breath for a moment. the entirety of his body felt a plethora of emotions— hot, cold, warm, all of it. for a moment, his eyes meet your gaze before he swallows, reaching down, swirling two fingers against your sloppy cunt. you moan, feeling him gather up a good amount of his own cum that oozes out of your hole before bringing it toward his lips. choso pops his fingers into his mouth, getting a good taste and he moans, still feeling himself deeply buried into your sweet cunt.

so filthy, tasting himself like that with no shame..

“taste okay?” you puff out, watching as he’s got his two digits stuffed all in his mouth. with a cute nod, he pulls you closer towards his broad chest before you slowly pull his fingers out his mouth. “good, because ‘m not done with you yet, baby. wanna see if you can give me one more. can you be a good boy ‘n do that for me?”

“i- i’ll be your good boy,” he pouts, moaning harmonically once your hips start to make haste, picking up again. “wanna be so good for you. promise i’ll give you one more. f-fuck, i love you.”

#★vegasbaby. #choso x reader #choso smut #choso kamo smut #choso kamo x reader #choso x you #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujustsu kaisen x reader #anime smut #female reader #jjk drabbles #jjk imagines #cw overstim

[justauthoring]

jerk [2].

because bakugou katsuki is a jerk but he's also unfortunately your soulmate.

a/n: the LARGELY requested part two! honestly, i'd be willing to write more parts if people wanted :) this part ended up being more about the girls and y/ns friendship but i couldn't help myself - if you guys want some fluff with bakugou for future parts, just let me know!

pairing: bakugou katsuki x f!reader

part one.

“You’re hiding something from us.”

There’s a beat of silence, then another, then another and when finally, you realize you should say something, you blink, sputtering out a barely believable; “no i’m not.”

Mina and Jirou glance at each other, then behind them at the rest of the girls, and you feel a layer of sweat build up when you realize all of your female classmates are here, surrounding you, demanding an answer. And you’ve never really been all that good at lying before, it’s how Bakugou was able to figure out the whole “i’m your soulmate thing” rather quickly and it had only taken him as long as it had because, well, it was Bakugou.

So, to put it bluntly, you’re screwed.

“Come on, Y/N,” Mina laughs, “that wasn’t even remotely believable.”

You know it’s written across your face, your eyes wide and your lips parted and you’re sure you look like quite the picture in that moment surrounded by every single female student in your class, a group of girls you considered your friends but were feeling considerably more like your interrogators in that moment. 

But you have to at least try.

“I’m not hiding anything,” you repeat, this time taking special care to make sure your voice is even and somewhat believable. “I’m just… tired. It’s been throwing my balance off. Sorry guys.”

You really are because you have been weird recently and you were hiding things (even if you were desperate for them not to know that) so the sincerity was there and it seems to be enough because they all glance at each other, frowning, and you can literally see the determination fade as Momo speaks up first.

“You have been leaving to train a lot,” she agrees with a solemn nod. “It’s no wonder you’re so tired. But you should still try to get some rest, don’t push yourself so hard.”

You let out a breath of relief, trying not to let it show as some of the girls shuffle back to walk away, until—

“Wait, that reminds me!”

It’s Jirou who calls it out and you feel yourself freeze.

“She hasn’t been training!”

Eyes widening, you turn to look at Jirou. She’s grinning your way, her figure pointed in your direction, clearly pleased she’d caught you in your lie.

“Jirou,” Uraraka calls out, confused. “What are you–”

“Two nights ago when she left to go training, I followed her, thinking we could train together… she wasn’t there.”

They gasp. Literally gasp.

“Now that you mention it,” Froppy nods, finger held to her chin in thought. “I haven’t actually seen her in the gym very often… nor does she look particularly like a person who’s just trained when she comes back.”

Their eyes fall on you and you take a step back.

“Y/N—”

And then you just run.

-

“I can’t believe she just ran!”

“I know!”

“Guys, I’m sure she had her reasons.”

“Who?”

Mina’s lips are left parted at the sound of Kirishima’s voice, all the girls turning to face him in the living room where he’s sat with the rest of the class.

“Y/N,” Mina explains with a huff, falling into the couch dramatically. “She’s been ditching us constantly and always leaving right after we return from class with some excuse. When we tried to ask her about it today, she lied and then when we caught on to her lie, she ran! Literally just bolting down the hallway before we could even blink.”

Kirishima frowns, glancing over to Denki on his left.

“That doesn’t sound like Y/N,” Deku calls out from across the room, head tilted in curiosity. “Especially to lie to you guys.”

“I know!” Mina calls out, throwing her hands up in exasperation. 

“Like I said,” Uraraka speaks up, trying to remain calm. “I’m sure she has her reasons. Maybe something’s wrong…”

“You think she could be in danger?” Shoto asks, quirking a brow. 

Uraraka shrugs; “I don’t know… I hope not.”

Everyone falls silent, worried expressions plastered on their faces.

“Wait, Kirishima… bro.” Denki calls, reaching to shake Kirishima aggressively, to which the red-haired boy swats his hands away, shaking his head.

“What?”

“Hasn’t Bakubro been disappearing a lot too?”

All the girls straighten out.

Kirishima just shakes his head; “Bakugou is always disappearing. You know he doesn’t like hanging with us a lot.”

“No, Denki’s right,” Sero nods, “even if he isn’t hanging with us, he’s usually in his room or in the gym. Recently, he just completely disappears.”

“I guess you’re right…” Kirishima frowns.

“Wait,” Jirou calls out, “what are you saying? That Bakugou is disappearing with Y/N?”

“That’s crazy,” Mina brushes off. “I’ve never even seen the two talk to each other unless they’re forced to–wait.”

Everyone's eyes snap to hers, wide.

“What?”

“You don’t think… no. It’s not possible.”

“Oh my god,” Denki cries out suddenly, leaning forward with a manic look in his eyes. “Bakubro is hurting Y/N!”

“Wait–”

“No way!” Kirishima calls out, turning to Denki. “Bakugou is a lot of things, but he would never hurt somebody intentionally. Especially not a girl. That’s not manly. Right, Midoriya?”

“Right,” Deku nods confidently, before pausing; “I think?”

“Hey!”

“Guys, no!” Mina cuts in, shaking her hands widely before her. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Okay…” Momo nods, “then what?”

She leans in, pausing for dramatic effect. “He could be… her soulmate!”

There’s silence, then, “no way.”

Mina’s face falls; “why not?”

“Bakugou? Having a soulmate?” Jirou snorts, “I doubt that.”

“Everybody has one!”

“Okay, the odds of him actually caring about his soulmate are slim to none,” Froppy offers in response.

“Yeah,” Deku nods, “I've never once seen Kacchan show interest in his soulmate like… ever.”

Kirishima shakes his head; “even I have to admit that’s so not manly.”

Everyone shuffles around agreements but Mina is quick to argue; “have any of you guys ever seen Bakugou’s soulmate mark?” Slowly, one by one, all glancing at each other, the guys shake their heads. Mina then turns to the girls. “Okay, have any of you ever seen Y/N’s? Cause she’s never shown or told me.”

The girls all shake their heads.

“So how can you really know?” Mina raises a brow, “I mean, Y/N is always so secretive about her mark. She refuses to tell me.”

-

“Bakugou, we have—”

“Katsuki.”

Coming to a sharp halt, lips left parted, you blink up at Bakugou.

With a grin, Bakugou gently shuts your mouth with a hand to your jaw, laughing lightly; “say Katsuki. That’s my name.”

You can feel your cheeks warm, profusely, and a burst of heat flood through you as you pull yourself from his touch, avoiding his gaze. “Katsuki,” you oblige with a huff and a pout. “We have a problem.”

“Yes?” Bakugou asks, raising a brow your way as he lowers the weight’s he’d been lifting.

“The girls are onto us!”

Bakugou just stares down at you. “What does that mean?”

Exasperated at his obliviousness, you huff, stretching your hands out before you for emphasis as you stare up at him, wide-eyed. “They know I’ve been disappearing after class a lot. I tried to tell them I was training, which I guess we usually are but Jirou caught on to that being a lie too and now they’re onto us!”

Bakugou just blinks. “But what do you mean onto us?”

You let out a cry; “Katsuki! They’re gonna know we’re soulmates!”

“So?”

Pressing a hand to your face, you can’t believe your situation. Not only were the girls onto you, they knew you were lying, which made you feel awful and if they found out that you’d been spending all your time with Bakugou… well that was bound to bring up more questions. Questions you wouldn’t be able to avoid. Questions that would ultimately lead to them finding out Bakugou was your soulmate.

A hand gently reaches for your wrists, pulling your hands away from your face as Bakugou crouches to meet your eyes directly. 

“Why is it such a big deal?” He asks gently, an odd tone that you’re still not used to hearing from Bakugou yet. His face remains neutral but there’s patience lingering in his eyes as he waits for you to explain why you’re so upset.

And you do. Your lips part and the words are at the tip of your tongue until, suddenly, you can’t say anything.

Nothing leaves your lips.

“Y/N?”

“I…—”

“You don’t want them to know?”

Blinking, you bite your lip. “It’s not that, it’s just…” But again, you can’t find the words.

“You don’t trust them?”

“Of course I do,” you argue instantly, “they’re my best friends.”

“Okay…” he says slowly, and then his face twists, “are you… embarrassed of me?”

Meeting his gaze, you frown. “...No,” you whisper, and you mean the words.

“Then what’s the problem?”

“I…” Shoulders falling, you frown. “Nothing… I guess.”

“So,” he says, “let them find out!”

Sputtering, you lean back; “it’s not like you’ve told Kirishima or any of the other guys!”

“It’s none of their business,” Bakugou shrugs, letting go of your wrists to set his hand on your head. “But if it makes you feel better, I'll tell them.”

You find yourself silent with disbelief once again, Bakugou’s words echoing in your mind paired with the look in his eyes. Just staring down at you.

Looking at you.

Like you’re his whole world.

-

“I’m sorry.”

They blink at you.

“I’m sorry about running away yesterday.”

Another blink.

“And I'm sorry I’ve been lying to you guys for the past few weeks.”

Slowly, all the girls glance at each other, trying to gauge the situation, before Uraraka is the first to speak up.

“It’s okay,” she assures with a smile, setting her hand on your shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze. “We appreciate you apologizing. We were just worried.”

“We wanna make sure you’re okay,” Jirou adds, smiling shyly at you. 

You take a look at all of their faces, seeing the sincerity staring back at you, before settling on Mina who still has a hint of hurt in her eyes but there’s also hope.

Well, here goes nothing.

“Bakugou’s my soulmate.”

Silence echoes, once again, before.

“What?”

“I knew it!”

“Bakugou!?”

There’s a mix of words, gasps of disbelief and shouts of question thrown out at you as all the girls rush towards you, swarming you, desperate for answers.

You laugh a little at their reaction, and that catches their attention.

“Y/N?” Mina asks, confused.

“I’ve been sneaking off to see him,” you explain to her, meeting her gaze, before letting your gaze drift. “I didn’t say anything because I’m still adjusting to it myself and I still don’t know how to feel about it. But I realized it isn’t fair to lie to you guys like that and that I want you guys to know because you matter so much to me.”

“Y/N…” Uraraka mumbles, tears welling in her eyes.

Her expression mimics many of the other girls before suddenly there’s a body slamming against your own, arms wrapping tightly around your waist as you stumble back, trying to catch your footing.

“Oh. My. God!” Mina screams, you wincing at the sheer volume, as she pulls back, grinning brightly at you. “You have to tell us everything!”

-

The next morning, you’re sitting at the island in the kitchen eating breakfast, chatting to Mina, Jirou and Kirishima. The rest of the students trickle by, some making breakfast, some in the living room, all in their own conversations, until suddenly it all stops.

It takes you a moment to realize Kirishima, Mina and Jirou are no longer listening to you, head turned to their right and following their gaze, curious, you blink when you realize it’s Bakugou they’re staring at. It’s not like he’s doing anything particularly odd, nothing except for the fact that his gaze is directed on you and he’s heading straight for you and then suddenly, he’s right in front of you.

His gaze drifts from you, to your plate, back to you; “who made you that?”

“Nobody,” you say slowly, still stunned. “I made it.”

He’s grabbing the plate before you can say anything else, pressing a kiss to your forehead that has your cheeks burning before turning and making his way to the fridge.

“I’ll make you something better,” is all he says in explanation.

Your gaze slowly drifts from him to Mina and Jirou who are grinning widely at you, before there’s the shout of;

“Did Bakubro just kiss Y/N?!”

“And offer to make her breakfast!”

“Wait,” Kirishima suddenly calls after Sero and Denki, turning to Mina and Jirou, “why are two grinning!?”

“All the girls are!” Deku exclaims, pointing at Uraraka and Froppy in front of him.

“You guys knew?”

“Of course,” Mina grins, sending a wink Kirishima’s way before shrugging. “Isn’t that right, Bakugou? You and Y/N are soulmates!”

Everyone expects him to ignore her or tell her to shut up, but instead, he pauses in what he’d been doing (cracking an egg for you), turning his head over his shoulders to meet your gaze before smirking. 

“That’s right.”

And chaos follows.

Utter and complete chaos.

#mha #mha x reader #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader

[bittenprincess]

〰️

#they never let me into the interview. i had been waiting weeks for it #and she starts screaming at me when i’m just. trying to help #i feel so stupid #it’s so hard to feel like she loves me when she makes me feel so dumb for trying #and i can’t tell if she’s mad at me for being like this or mad at both of us bc she made me #even when i try so hard im so dumb that i can’t get the simplest things right and she’s so good at making me feel that way #even when i feel OK for a second she can make it so easy to want to die again when i just want her to love me #i cried off all my makeup even though i have another one in less than an hour now #i still need to get groceries for x even though she’s just going to sexually harass me or touch me #i still need to call all those people #somehow i’ve done nothing #i’m such a waste. it’s already 3 and somehow i spent all of today worrying about a job interview they didn’t let me into #i wish someone would come get rid of me #even when i try my best my best is shit and it will never be enough until i do something about it #even know just talking about it is going to scare the people that still care about me until i lose #it’s a matter of ending up alone or killing myself before i scare them #i can’t do this #why am i alive #i can’t do this anymore and i wish i would just drop dead

[luveline]

Bombshell reader and Spencer finding out she’s pregnant

fem!reader, 1.5k

cw for pregnancy / reader wants to be pregnant

“This is such a peculiar feeling.” 

Spencer’s ready for you physically before his mind has caught up, his hand reaching out for you despite his eyes steadfast on the book he has held to his knee. Legs crossed, relaxing in the supple leather of one of his armchairs, Spencer almost forgot you were here. “What?” he asks. 

“What did I say, or what’s peculiar?” 

“What’s peculiar?” he asks, letting the book fall down the side of his thigh. 

You shuffle closer to his legs, looking down at your clasped hands. “I feel really weird. For a few days. A bit sick, I think.” 

He’s not expecting you to say that; it’s been such a quiet evening, and you haven’t mentioned being ill once yet, despite having slept here and spent the day here in your soft pyjamas. “What’s wrong?” he asks. 

Because the thing is, Spencer loves you more than he’s ever loved anybody. It’s immediately unnerving for him to hear you aren’t well, because he doesn't want you to have a single shred of strife in your life, not even a papercut. He pulls you closer and closer, looking up into your face, begging to know what’s wrong and unashamed or caring so much. “You’re worrying me,” he prods when you don’t answer. 

“Sorry, I’m just…” You lean forward gently. Spencer takes your weight to his side, his cheek to your chest. You face down, wrapping an arm behind his shoulder. “Just have a funny feeling,” you whisper. 

“What kind of feeling?” he asks. Spencer could tell you a hundred different facts on funny feelings, gut feelings, and intuition, but that’s not strictly helpful right now. Then again, he knows he’s loved, and so he says the most burning one aloud before he forgets, “Intuition is based on the collating of facts by your brain to predict future events. It’s usually unconscious.” 

You touch his hair mindlessly. “Is it usually right?” 

“I think that’s up to opinion. Why, angel?” he asks, letting his voice slip into a deeper, settled rasp. He hopes it says what he’s trying to prove to you every single day, that he will take care of you for as long as you’ll let him. “What are you thinking is wrong?” 

“I don’t know if it’s wrong…” 

He’s so confused. “You can tell me anything,” he assures you, pulling at your hands. There’s room in the armchair for you so long as you’re okay with putting your legs over his, and you are, curling up next to him with your bottom lip pulled between your teeth. 

“I know, Spencer. Just let me think about it for a minute.” 

“Okay.” He takes your hand once again. For a few minutes he waits in the quiet, rubbing small circles into the back of your hand, trying hard not to look at you lest you feel pressured to talk. 

“Okay,” you say quietly, “I have a few things in that bag I brought over for emergencies, you know? In the bathroom. And I have a pregnancy test in there, so I’m going to take it. How do you… how would you feel about that?” 

“I’d feel whatever you needed me to,” he says instinctively, the word pregnancy on a flashing look in his mind’s eye. “You think you might be pregnant?” 

“Before I take it, before, is that a bad thing if I am?” 

He’s shocked to see you acting this way, so far from your regularly scheduled programming. Spencer always assumed that if you ever did become pregnant, he’d learn about it like everybody else. You’d tell him with a big smile or a proud kiss and go about your day. You know what you're worth, and to be pregnant is your decision, your body. 

“Of course not,” he says, frowning. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Why are you asking me?” 

“Because it’s something that would affect both of us?” 

“No, of course, of course, angel, I just mean, why would it ever be a bad thing?” He puts his hand on your neck. “Unless you think it is.” 

“This isn’t something I get to just decide by myself, this decision. I can’t make it alone,” you say. 

“Yes you can.” He cups your neck. “But I’d love to make it with you.” 

You smile. He can tell you’re going to share your thoughts with him before you do, your eyes clearing with worry for now, and instead shining with your usual, breath-stealing light. “I hope I am,” you say. 

He hadn’t known he’d feel this way until right this second. “I hope you are too.” 

Your giggle sounds ever so slightly teary and hug him. You kiss his neck, and then you spring out of his lap to drag him with you to the bathroom. It’s a straightforward process but the waiting is agony, you and him sitting on the counter by the sink basin, hands squeezing at each other's fingers with the test baking on his thigh. 

“This is crazy,” you murmur. “We were having a normal day.” 

“Normal to amazing would be good,” he says. 

“What are we gonna do?” 

“Well, I’ll have to make some more money.” 

“I’m serious.” 

“So am I,” he says with a laugh. “Do you know how expensive children are?” 

“How did your mom afford you and your three PhDs?” 

“I got most of that stuff for free,” he says, “on account of being smart for my age.” 

You laugh softly. “That’s one way to say it.” 

Spencer leans down to kiss your shoulder. “We’ll have to move in together. Like, forever.” 

“Oh no.” You prop your head on his. “I basically live here anyways. All the time.” 

We’ll have to get married, Spencer thinks, but that’s not necessarily true, and then thinks it should probably be a surprise, before he says, “And I’ll have to ask you to marry me.” 

“Not just because I’m–”

“No, not just because you’re pregnant,” he says, though neither of you know yet if that’s true. “Never.” 

“That would be admirable.” 

He doesn’t know about that, but he knows one thing. “I love you. Really. More than anything.” 

“Don’t worry, Spencer. I love you too.” 

“Would that be something you wanted?” he asks quietly. 

“I’ll say yes whenever you want to ask me,” you say, equally as quiet. “I would’ve said yes five years ago.” You weren’t together five years ago, and he believes it anyways.

Spencer kisses up your cheek and pulls you into his side with a last press of his lips to your temple. The test on his thigh hasn’t changed. It’s a digital one, so you’ll know for sure just as soon as it’s ready. He feels like he can’t breathe right, waiting, waiting, wishing. 

“I’m with you no matter what,” he says under his breath. 

“I know.” You turn your lips into his cheek, breath fanning his skin. “You know pregnancy makes a woman more beautiful, right?” 

“I don’t see how that could possibly happen to you, but I’m excited nonetheless.” 

You laugh and smile into his cheek, kissing the slight hollow of it tenderly. 

On your thigh, the test blinks to Pregnant. 

You don’t notice, too busy kissing him still, your smile hard to ignore as you mumble, “If I’m pregnant, and we’re gonna do all those things you said before, I promise I’ll make you happy, Spence. I’m gonna be good to you. We’re going to be so, so happy, we’re gonna have a house with a garden and a hundred types of flowers, and we’ll keep bees at the end of it, and we’ll have two libraries for all your books, three if you want it, and–”

“I’ll make you happy,” he echoes, “I promise. I’m gonna take care of everything.” 

“–the nursery…” You stop kissing him, hearing what it is he hasn’t managed to say in the wavering tone of his voice. You look down as he passes you the test. 

“No matter what you want,” he swears. 

Your happy tears are plentiful and not what he’s expecting. You wrap your arms around his neck and cry with your legs hanging off of the counter, the test digging into his shoulder, drawing a line over his skin as you check it to be sure and prompt another round of tears. They aren’t loud tears. Your sniffles are half giggle. 

“We never do things in the right order,” you say, blissfully happy. 

“I don’t think there’s a wrong one.” His turn now to press kisses to your tacky cheek.

“We used to hold hands under the round table.” You shudder with tears. 

Lovelorn and unsure, not even dating, your fingers sewn together under the conference table as someone spoke you through the case of the day. His heart in his throat, and your thumb rubbing circles so slowly into his skin his wrist would ache for hours afterwards remembering. You and Spencer have always done things in your own order, and he’d never say wrong. 

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

[slttygeto]

HEART TO HEART : GOJO SATORU

what is heart to heart? a show in which we bring two people who have history together to ask them a couple of interesting, heartbreaking questions.

today's episode: 27 year old Gojo Satoru broke up with his girlfriend 4 years ago, yet he cannot move on. does she feel the same? and does a person really not move on even after four years?

note: i started this…without a second thought. i dont know where its going or if its gonna do well. but i enjoyed it very much

a cold room, a white set, two chairs and a table—satoru gojo knew that the point of this very simple and minimalistic set was to make him feel vulnerable and uncomfortable, but a tiny vase would’ve been appreciated.

“why did you two break up?”

the ivory haired man leans back in his chair with a dry chuckle, fingers drumming along the surface of the wooden table.

“I was insecure,” he admits rather bitterly. “I just had a lot of things to work on, and letting go of her seemed like the right thing to do.”

“do you miss her?”

“oh, absolutely,” there’s a smile on his face when he says that, and sits up straight with his hands clasped together (an indicator that he was most likely anxious to be asked such vulnerable question). he goes on to squeeze his hands a bit and his lips are sealed shut for a bit before opening them again. “I thought to myself that I wouldn’t find love for a while after her—but it’s been four years, and I cannot get myself to move on.”

“has she moved on?”

“maybe? I’m not sure,” he lets out a nervous laugh and looks away from the camera before holding his head in his hands, there was a mental battle going on inside his head—before he finally decides to speak again. “I actually stalked her instagram account last week through a mutual friend and… I didn’t see a man on any of the pictures. she could just be super private.”

“was she private about being with you?”

“she would post pictures here and there, we didn’t like to keep our relationship a secret.”

gojo is handed a blindfold and he neatly wraps it around his eyes and waits, heart thumping loudly in his chest.

when you were asked by a friend if you would do this interview, a part of you was a bit hesitant just because you weren’t sure if you wanted to air out your love life like this and have to deal with the consequences of a potential future lover being upset about it—but when you were told that it was gojo satoru, your ex-boyfriend whom you dated for 3 years and were planning on building a future with—that is until it abruptly ended with no warnings whatsoever. perhaps you ignored the tornado warnings? were there even any to begin with? you will never know because you blocked him everywhere on social media. from instagram to his phone number. you couldn’t deal with the fact that he existed around you, near you yet you couldn’t have him.

four long years of not having seen him took a toll on your heart, as it sure gets excited the moment you spot white strands on top of a head that is laid out on the table. his sense of style is still so casual and laid back, but not in a cocky way. satoru has always been about feeling comfortable in your clothes but you notice his tense shoulders and his foot tapping and can immediately tell that he is anxious.

you silently pull the chair back facing him and he lifts his head off of the table. your hands rest on top of the surface and the producer finally asks gojo to take off the blindfold.

when he does and you two lock eyes, you both start smiling big but you can’t help the little tremble to your lips before you look away from the camera to wipe a few emotional tears.

“sorry,” you whisper but your mic was able to pick it up. almost on instinct, satoru reaches towards you and squeezes your arm reassuringly.

“when was the last time you spoke to one another?”

“four years ago.” you are the one to answer the questions now and you keep avoiding satoru’s big blue eyes.

“was it hard having to walk away from a long term relationship?”

“It’s always hard when you thought there was a connection,” your emphasis on the word “thought” makes gojo look down at his lap almost in shame. he had no time to explain himself or what he did, yet he couldn’t help but feel that this interview was going to be like a second chance to explain himself and perhaps give a proper apology.

“you had no closure?”

“nope.” you both answer at the same time and it feels as though feelings of resentment are starting to resurface as your demeanor grows cold around him and you pull your hands away from the table.

“why do you think you broke up?”

“you said you couldn’t really see us together anymore,” you were now speaking to satoru directly and he gladly took the heat of your words. “you said…that us being together was just a waste of time and that one of us has to walk away,” you were clearly hurt by his words, even four years later. the breakup took a toll on you both physically and emotionally. you were incapable of going on dates for a painfully long period of time that your friends had to drag you outside to meet some potential new partners—but none of them felt like satoru. you resented him for crawling into your heart and finding a safe space there, for settling down and building a warm house inside only to tear it down and leave as quickly as he came.

“I wasn’t… sure what I wanted to do at the time, I was confused about my future,” satoru admits for the first time ever. “I thought it was so unfair to drag you down that hole with me when it was so clear to you that you had a plan in mind—a secure one so I just-“

“left.” you finish the sentence for him and he lets out a pained laugh.

“yeah, I left. and when I realized that you had blocked me, I knew that there was no going back and that I actually did it. yknow, like, it wasn’t this bad dream where I would wake up and you were still beside me—you were actually gone, I made you leave.”

there was a long silence after this and you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, not after that confession.

“did you miss me?” gojo takes the initiative to ask this question instead of the producer but they don’t complain, watching carefully as you look back at your ex partner.

“I did,” you say again in a whisper, almost scared that you coming to terms with this horrible realization was going to hurt you further.

“do you think that…we could’ve worked out had I been honest at the time?”

“satoru, I would’ve never left you as easily as you did,” you knew that it wasn’t easy for him, but you want him to know that your love for him was bigger than he ever thought.

“would you like to try again?”

you two stare at each other for a bit and you sneak your hand towards his huge palm, resting your index finger there and tracing soft circles.

“yeah… I want to. do you?” you look up at him through your eyelashes and gojo’s heart feels as though it is about to burst.

“I would love to.”

2023: all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.

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#moon's works #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jjk gojo #jjk gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen gojo