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#(clearly wants to get into a relationship if the ‘I love you’ bomb right on the second date…)
haztory · 2 months
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i’m a firm believer that john price, while he loves to take care of his lady and spoil her endlessly, is not a fan of seeing her reduced down to a baby.
if he’s into daddy kinks, it’s with the premise of you making him a daddy just as he will make you a mommy. if he’s spanking you, it’s not as a means of punishment but instead because it riles you up. he’s not into feeling abnormally ancient within a relationship dynamic, he actually quite likes when his woman is on par with him— intellectually, maturity, physically. he doesn’t like infantilization because he’s not into girls, he’s into women. sturdy ones that can hold their own and dish out as much as they can take.
it comes with its occasional drawbacks, however. the one—and only time— john ever lost his temper and yelled at you (not because you made him angry but because work is stressful, and his last assignment left him having a hard time readjusting to home, and you’ve been so patient, and he’s frustrated that he just can’t be what you need him to be) it was a staunch reminder that this is not a fling with some naive girl who idolizes him for his age and stature. he’s in a relationship. an adult one.
you’re staring at him, a brow raised and a stern look on your face as the echoes of his shout settle in the room. it’s a kind of glare that is only etched out by mothers to their disobedient children. stilling and telling of how exactly you feel about john’s outburst. there is no reason for gnashing teeth and snarling bites when you’re asking how you can best support him. and while you know in your head he doesn’t mean it, it still doesn’t excuse it.
“let’s put a pause in this, cause clearly we’re not going to get anywhere.” you say, voice carefully neutral but he can see the rage bubbling in your gaze, “why don’t you go take a walk, and when we’re both calm, we can discuss this further.”
and he hates the therapy speak, the measured and careful approach to emotions— it’s ridiculous, almost insulting. you’re treating him like a child, an explosive time bomb when both comparisons could be further from the truth. he’s the expert in bomb handlings, for christ’s sake. but he listens, grabbing his keys and a cigar and stepping out the door with an annoyed huff.
time and space, john begrudgingly admits, works wonders on a irritated mind. he finds his error in the mist of vexed thoughts and irrational moods, tempers it down with a long drag of his cigar and the wash of brandy at the pub. and he’s remorseful, incredibly so as he walks through the threshold of your home when the sun is setting to find you in the loveseat, book in hand and dinner simmering on the stove. you spare him a quick glance before returning to your novel, nothing further said.
he stands at the door, shameful and cognizant of his idiocy. he’s removing his fisherman beanie from the top of his head and moves to stand before you on your place on the couch. it has you closing your book, laying it down on your lap as you turn your attention to the man.
“i’m sorry.” he says lowly, eyes fixed on the hat in his hand as he picks a stray string on the fabric. “i shouldn’t have shouted at you. there was no need for that.”
your eyes stare knowingly into his, understanding written all over your face and while it’s a relief to see, it’s only a further iteration of what he’s come to realize—you are not just anyone. you’re someone who he wants to build his home with, navigate through terse and stormy waters with because you’re the perfect balance to the man who tries so hard to balance it all. it’s not perfect, but you don’t care about that. you don’t need perfect, have never demanded it to be—you strive for healthy. you model it by example, and you’ve whipped him into shape for it.
“it’s hard adjusting right now.”
“i know,” you tell him softly. your hands grab at his, pulling him down to his knees so you can see him at your level. you place your hands on the sides of his face, bringing him in for a gentle and sweet kiss. “if it’ll help, i can give you some space. a couple of days, i can go stay with my parents—“
“no.” he’s quick to shoot it down, shaking his head and rubbing his hands up and down the tops of your thighs, “i want you with me. i’m better when you’re with me.”
“okay.” you give him another gentle kiss. “thank you for apologizing. are you ready to eat some dinner or do you want to freshen up first?”
either choice doesn’t matter, he’d rather do whatever it is that you’re doing.
so yeah, john likes women who put him in his place. it turns him on a bit.
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modern-art-is-art · 9 months
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Aziraphale is a victim of abuse
Oh boy let me talk about how clearly Aziraphale mirrors a victim of abuse. Warning for spoilers obviously.
Throughout season 1 and 2, we are shown clear examples of Aziraphale being ridiculed and abused by the Archangels. They tore down Aziraphale's confidence and made him believe he was "soft" and "useless". The things they said to Aziraphale sound a lot like the comments Nina received by her abusive partner Lindsay.
And, like Nina, he needs to realize how to heal from that trauma. Because unlike Nina, Aziraphale once again fell for abusive and manipulative tactics, namely Metatron's love bombing.
Metatron came and told him that this time, things will be different because Aziraphale will be the one in charge, subsequently validating Aziraphale's belief that the problem isn't Heaven and Hell as institutions, it's the people running those institutions that are the real issue. This is a very clever way to manipulate Aziraphale and it's also very realistic, as victim's of abuse often go back to their abuser. Why?
Abusers manipulate their victims into thinking that 1. they NEED to stay because they would be nothing without their abuser and 2. that this time it will be different and that they love them (see. Metatron offering that Aziraphale run Heaven and finally saying what Aziraphale's always wanted to hear: "You did the right thing"), also known as love bombing. It's what makes leaving a destructive relationship so hard, because deep down victims cling onto the hope that things will get better eventually.
Abusers also destroy their victim's other relationship, leaving them without a support network and no one to turn to once the abuse inevitably starts again. Metatron did just that, he KNEW Crowley would be upset, and as soon as he was able to he belittled Crowley ("He always wanted to do things his own way" and "He asked too many questions"), subtly discouraging Aziraphale from doing the same. By doing what he did he effectively cut off Aziraphale from the one person who could change his mind. It also means he has an easier time getting Aziraphale to do his bidding, because now, Aziraphale feels like he has nowhere to go to if he wants to leave Heaven.
Metatron, as an extension of Heaven, is the abuser, and Aziraphale is the victim. Crowley already knows Heaven and Hell are toxic, but Aziraphale hasn't realized that yet. I believe that season 3 (pray we get one), will focus heavily on how that abuse and manipulation will continue until Aziraphale learns to stand up for himself, and finally leave the relationship which has hurt him for so long.
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luxaofhesperides · 5 months
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Surprise husbands + "How are you real?" ; requested by @vehan-tikkun-olam-and-stuff!
They may not have planned to get married, or even wanted it all too much at the beginning, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t going to treat each other right. It was rough going, with both of them coming out of relationships and having secret identities, but time had softened the hurt feelings and allowed them to actually get to know each other.
And Danny, Duke has discovered, is a really good husband. 
Neither of them ever saw themselves as married at 20, but sometimes life throws horrible curses at you and the embodiment of balance and life and death swoops in to save your life. Via marriage. 
His life is weird, okay? Duke has made his peace with it.
The thing is, if they had met naturally and started off as friends, Duke could see himself falling for Danny and asking him to marry him in a far off future. Instead, they’re doing everything backwards: married, then going on dates to know each other, and finally feeling close enough to be friends. 
It helps that Danny does his best to communicate and that helps Duke find the words he needs as well. 
He’s sweet, too, so kind and doting and affectionate. Like a really lovable cat, honestly. Duke’s never been cuddled so much in his life and he’s loving every minute of it. 
He… might be falling in love with his husband. What a revelation.
“Duke?” 
He blinks, looking up from his half-empty plate, pulled out of his thoughts suddenly. Tim and Dick stare at him, concerned, and he realizes he’s missed the entire conversation because he was so preoccupied thinking about Danny. In his defense, it was their one year anniversary the night before and Danny had kissed him for the first time after a date night spent playing video games and talking shit about their respective rogues. 
Tim snaps a finger in front of his face, and Duke startles. He got distracted by his Danny Thoughts again.
“Yeah, what’s up?”
“You okay? You’ve been out of it all day,” Dick says, clearly concerned.
“Oh, uh, yeah, it’s all good. Just… adjusting.”
“To what? Did something happen?”
Duke shrugs, scooping up another forkful of pasta to shove in his mouth. “Yeah, I… this is going to sound kind of stupid, but I think I’m in love with my husband.”
Tim, taking an ill-timed drink, chokes and spits out his Zesti. Dick springs back, trying to get out of the spray zone but doesn’t move far, shocked still by Duke’s words.
“Oh, yeah,” Duke realizes, “I didn’t tell you guys, did I?”
“You’re married?!” Tim shrieks as Dick clutches at his chest, eyes wide.
“You didn’t tell me?” Dick asks, offended.
“Seriously? That’s what you focus on?”
Duke smiles as they begin to bicker. They do it constantly, but this time it’s halfhearted, as if they’re just going through the motions of something familiar to distract themselves from the bomb he’s dropped on them.
In all fairness, Duke did forget that he didn’t tell them that he’s married to Danny. He’s also only mentioned Danny once or twice and heavily implied that Danny was just a classmate at GCU. And then forgot that he didn’t tell them, assuming that they’d figure it out eventually being Batman trained detectives, after all.
Well. 
Oops.
Clearly that is not the case. Duke hurries to finish his pasta before Tim and Dick finish their joint freak out and get their senses back together enough to interrogate him. He can’t escape it, but he refuses to have this discussion with an empty stomach. 
He just barely manages to scrape the last mouthful off the plate when his fork is being yanked out of his hands. Tim and Dick close in on him, standing to either side of him, trapping him in place, and look at him with knife-sharp smiles.
Here we go, Duke thinks tiredly, and resigns himself to clearing up this misunderstanding.
Somehow, he manages to explain the situation (I got cursed, he saved my life, we ended up married because magic is bullshit, he treats me so well) and Tim and Dick both agree to not hunt down Danny to show him the wrath of older brothers on one condition: Danny has to join them for a family dinner.
“Don’t worry, we’ll catch everyone up on your… situation,” Dick says, pulling on his jacket to head out. Tim is already on his phone, no doubt telling someone already. 
“Great,” Duke says, unenthused. “You’ll also be answering all the questions because I’m not in the mood. So if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to figure out a day that works for all of us, and then I’m going to kick my husband’s ass in Mario Cart.”
He walks out the door, grinning as he hears them scramble after him, then twists the ring on his finger (not a wedding ring, but a magic portal making gift) and steps into the portal. It closes quietly behind him, leaving him in Danny’s lair, a comfortable, spacious house with high ceilings and little bits of his personality scattered about. There are soft rugs with geometric patterns on them, star maps on the wall, stained glass windows that throw colors across the floor, and a giant couch and pillow pit in the living room.
Danny’s asleep in it, curled up and looking completely at peace. Duke toes off his shoes and carefully makes his way over, footsteps silent so he doesn’t wake him up, all plans of Mario Cart fading away instantly.
Danny doesn’t get much sleep, with the stress of school and an internship and ghost fights to worry about. It’s why his lair is so quiet and comfortable; it’s what he needs, and he doesn’t let anyone else in without invitation, rare as it is.
Duke is allowed to waltz right in thanks to the ring Danny gave him. It never stops making him feel overwhelmed by how much trust Danny puts in him to allow him unlimited access to what is his only true sanctuary, letting his lair be a place of safety and respite for Duke as well. 
He crawls into the pillow pit, There’s no way to do this without waking Danny up since he can’t fly, so he isn’t surprised to see Danny blink his eyes open, still looking soft and content. He smiles when he sees Duke, reaching a hand out to him that Duke gladly takes, bringing it up to his mouth to kiss his palm.
Sitting up, Danny tilts his head up in a silent request. Duke happily obliges, still reeling over the fact that he’s allowed to do this! He can kiss his husband whenever he wants! 
Yeah, he’s going to be riding that high for a while.
“Hey,” Danny murmurs, sleepy and quietly pleased to see him.
“Hi honey,” Duke returns fondly, “Have a nice nap?”
Danny nods, leaning into Duke and closing his eyes again. “Mhm. How long are you staying? I wanna cuddle.”
“I got nothing going on today. I’m all yours, baby.”
“C’mon,” Danny tries to tug him down. Duke goes slowly, covering Danny’s body with his own, but holds himself with one hand before he blankets his husband completely.
“Wait. There’s something we need to talk about.”
Immediately, the sleepy haze is fading from Danny’s eyes, leaving him alert. “What’s up? Is something wrong?”
“Not really? You know how we agreed to keep our marriage a secret until we weren’t in danger anymore and all those cultists and sorcerers were taken care of?”
“...Yes?”
“Well.” Duke sucks in a breath and offers a bashful smile. “Guess who forgot to tell people we were married after that whole mess was dealt with?”
The nervousness clears from Danny’s gaze as he stares up at Duke with incredulous amusement. “No. No way.”
“Yeah. Kinda dropped a bomb on them and they started freaking out over me being married. Anyways, they want you to come to dinner?”
“When?”
Duke leans back, sitting on his heels. “Let me check.” He pulls out his phone and sends a quick text to the group chat asking for a day they could have a family meal to meet his husband.
His phone is bombarded with texts and calls immediately until Barbara, bless her entire soul, forcibly mutes all of them and puts in a poll with a few dates, setting the poll to close in 24 hours.
“Okay, well, they’re deciding now, but probably soon.”
Danny nods. “Alright. I know these aren’t normal circumstances at all, but I’m so excited to meet the Bats.”
“You do not mean that after hearing all my stories about them.”
“No, I do!” Danny laughs, surging up to wrap his arms around Duke and pull him back down to lay among the giant pillows with him. “They sound nice!”
“The Bats sound nice?!” Duke repeats in horror. “Did you hit your head?”
“They do sound nice! You talk about them so fondly, and yeah they have problems and are dysfunctional, but they’re heroes. Of course they have problems. Even with all their baggage, they’re kind. And you clearly love them, so I do too.”
It’s hard to resist the urge to hug Danny tight enough to make him squeak while peppering his face with kisses, so Duke doesn’t. He just goes and does it, because he’s allowed to shower his husband (!) with affection (!!!) as much as he pleases.
“How are you real?” he says against the corner of Danny’s lips. “How are you so perfect! To me specifically! Honey, if we weren’t already married, I’d be going down on one knee right now.”
“I mean, you still can. We never got a proper wedding either. Think if we offer them a chance to help plan our wedding, they’ll forgive us for secretly being married for so long?”
“Oh, absolutely,” Duke says. He’s already giddy, just imagining what their wedding will look like, what song they’ll play for their first dance, where they’ll have the ceremony… He should create a Pinterest account to start putting ideas together. 
Later, though. He wants to woo Danny properly and take him on so many dates.
Dates which include dinner with the Waynes and Wayne-adjacents, apparently.
“You sure you’re okay with meeting them over dinner?” he asks, just to be sure. He knows how intense they can be, even when pretending to be normal civilians. It took him years to get used to them, himself, and he doesn’t want to push Danny into doing something he’s not ready to do.
Danny cups Duke’s face in his hands and gives him a quick, reassuring kiss. “I’m sure. If nothing else, it’ll be fun to see how long it takes for them to realize I’m not fully human.”
“I really am glad it’s you.”
“Yeah, me too. I’d choose you all over again if given the choice.”
“Took the words right out of my mouth,” Duke laughs, wrapping an arm around Danny’s waist.
“Can we nap now? Now that you’re here and holding me, it’s taking everything I’ve got to stay awake.”
“Yeah, we can nap now.” Duke settles into the pillows, Danny cradled in his arms and closes his eyes to bask in the quiet easiness of it all. 
He really couldn’t ask for a better husband, unexpected as he was. The others will see that too, once they meet him. It’s impossible to not love Danny once you meet him; Duke knows this all too well.
He loves his husband.
And his husband loves him back.
Duke is fully prepared to keep making that choice for the rest of his life.
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marvelouslizzie · 1 year
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are you mine?
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summary: You have been seeing Bucky Barnes for while. Actually seeing doesn't cover what you two are doing but you don't know what else to call it. You just didn't give the relationship a name, yet. One day, you get a voice message and a photo from your best friend which makes you think, Bucky Barnes, the man who you fell head over heels in love with is cheating on you. Jealousy takes over.
pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader 
word count: 5.1K
warnings: 18+ NSFW MINORS DNI, unlabeled relationship, misunderstandings, suspected of being cheated on (BUT THERE IS NO CHEATING), jealousy, feeling insecure, unintentionally hurting the person you love, mentions of roleplaying, adult language, pet names, dirty talk, light deep-throating, fingering, unprotected sex (don't do it in real life these two know each other), emotional assurance, no mention of y/n.
a/n:  This was a random idea I had and with the help of @notafunkiller and @es1dit, it turned into reality. I thank them for helping me through my writing journey, beta-reading, and even for the photos and the gif! You two are the best!
All work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission. Every like, comment and reblog is highly appreciated.
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“Hey, girl.” Your friend's voice sounds different than usual. You wonder what’s wrong because she usually doesn’t send voice messages. “I really don’t know how to say this. I wanted to call you and explain everything, answer all your questions, but I have a meeting in five minutes.” You look at the time and see the voice message was sent more than ten minutes ago. “I thought texting is worse so I decided to go with a voice message.” She stops for a second to take a deep breath. “I really hate to be the one to tell you this. I really do. I hate to break your heart but if I were in your place, I’d like you to tell me. It’s better to know instead of getting fooled, right?” She sounds like she is trying to convince herself, not you and you can’t help but wonder what she is talking about. “Okay, here we go: I saw Bucky with a woman. They were hugging so I couldn’t see his face clearly at first. I thought the guy was just looking a lot like Bucky, so it made me stop. I thought how many guys should have this haircut? It turns out it was really Bucky. He was hugging her so tight, it was just confusing. Then after they broke the hug, she put her hand on his chest and I went ‘wait a minute, who is this redhead?’ I got my phone and right before I took the photo, he laughed so loudly. I couldn’t believe it! Bucky Barnes, the guy who gives everyone a death stare, was laughing with his whole body. I managed to take a good picture, but I could not see the face of that woman. The only thing I can say for sure is that she's a redhead. Oh, and she has an amazing body. Even from behind…” She stops for a bit when she realizes she’s praising her while telling you Bucky is cheating on you. “Sorry. I just can’t believe what I've just witnessed. I thought you should know. I’m sending the photo so you can see it with your own eyes. I’m sorry for dropping a bomb like this and running into a meeting. I promise you I will call you after I’m done with work and we will talk, alright?”
From the moment you first listened to this message, you couldn't think of anything else. You keep looking at the photo, zooming in on the woman countless times in hopes of magically figuring out who she is and how she managed to make him laugh that hard. You don't remember him mentioning meeting any woman today. Especially one that seems so close to you.
You also listen to the voice message over and over again, but nothing makes sense.
Is he... is he really seeing her behind my back? 
Your heart is beating so fast, you can’t focus on your thoughts or hear anything else. Breathing becomes so hard that you feel like you are drowning. I can’t do this anymore, I can’t. You hope taking deep breaths might help, but not even that helps. It actually makes you feel even worse. You just drop your body onto the couch and suddenly you notice you aren’t afraid or anxious like you initially thought. You are just… hurt. So hurt that the pain you are feeling is actually physical. You never felt this way ever in your life.
If Bucky Barnes pointed his gun right at your face now it would hurt you less. If he shot you without blinking once, it would hurt you less because you would know for sure that he is brainwashed and turned into the Winter Soldier by someone again. And he wouldn’t be hurting you on purpose. This… Whatever this is… feels like he’s hurting you on purpose and it's unbearable.
Now, you aren’t so sure of who he is. This guy, who is hugging someone else like that and laughing, who lets another woman touch her so freely like this can not be your Bucky. Or maybe he was never yours to begin with, who knows?
You have no idea how much time passed between the moment you got this message and Bucky arrived at your place. While you are drowning in your thoughts and feelings, he lets himself in.
“Hey, doll.” He sounds really happy, which is rare and mostly when he’s around you. Now you know you aren’t the reason for his happiness and it stings. He must have had a good day with that redhead. Whoever she is.
You look at him without saying a word. That’s when you see that he’s holding a big bouquet of flowers. Your favorites. God! He is really cheating on me. He felt guilty and bought flowers on his way here, you think. While growing up, you remember hearing something over and over again: When a man feels guilty because they're cheating, they start to treat their partners better. Bucky always treated you well and bought you flowers but you aren’t in a place to think clearly anymore. You just assume he’s cheating, therefore he got you flowers to feel better about it. It’s clear as day.
“Are you okay?” He sounds concerned already because he knows how you would normally act. Whenever he arrived at your place, you ran to him and gave him a huge hug. Sometimes you literally jumped in his arms and he lifted you up with no effort. He would just hold the flowers until you got down. In the rest of cases, you would give him a kiss, thank him for the flowers, and put them in your favorite vase. But right now all you do is glare at him, taking a deep breath before standing up.
Your knees already want to just give in and let you fall, but no, you aren’t gonna go down that easily. You are going to face him first and let things play out. If you are gonna fall on your knees, it’s gonna happen when you are alone and defeated, and you can cry yourself to sleep.
“I’m not.” 
“What’s wrong?” He just puts the flowers away.
“Are you cheating on me, James Barnes?” The question flies out from your lips easily. And you are surprised you managed to get it out without choking or crying. 
Bucky’s expression is hard to read at first. You have no idea what it means. Then it slowly changes into something you are familiar with: concern. Anytime he is even a little bit concerned, the lines between his brows become so visible… But this time, they don’t stay that way for long. Instead, you see a little smile creeping up his lips, and a wave of anger washes over you. Before you're able to say anything, he speaks.
“Since when we are in a relationship, darling?” 
Oh my fucking god! The audacity of this man! 
“Excuse me?”
“I asked you: since when are we in a relationship? I thought in order to cheat on someone you have to be in a relationship first, and I don’t remember us discussing the nature of our… friendship.” The bastard sounds so smug until the last part. Then he seemed unsure for a second like he was trying to find the right word. Friendship… That wasn’t the right one for your relationship. You were friends, of course, but the word doesn’t cover it all. You were also exclusive. Or, at least, that is what you thought until now.
“I guess…” You sniff. “I had the wrong impression…” You stop again to collect yourself. “About our… friendship.”
That’s when he notices the tears in your eyes, threatening to fall down any second, but you are holding yourself back. You don’t want to cry in front of him. You don’t want him to see how much he broke you. Instead of approving what you just said, Bucky closes the distance between you two. 
“Darling…” His tone has completely changed, that smugness vanishing completely. “Are you crying?” He tries to touch your face and probably wipe the tear away, but you don’t let him. With a quick step back, you put distance between you two while looking directly into his eyes.
“It’s none of your business.” The lines between his brows are back and they are deeper than ever. Confusion is written all over his face.
“Baby, I don’t understand what’s wrong. Please, talk to me.” He sounds completely broken now and you can’t believe how he could just change his emotions like that. Like there is a switch inside him and now he decided to act a bit more appropriately.
“I already told you, and your answer was clear enough.” The coldness of your voice creates a cold shower effect on him. 
“Wait…” It finally sinks in. “Do you really think I am cheating on you?”
You give him a dry humorless laugh. “You've just asked me since when we're in a relationship twice and technically said it wasn’t cheating.”
“I thought you were roleplaying.” He desperately tries to get closer to you, but you raise your hand to stop him. “I had no idea you were serious.”
“Roleplaying?” You can’t believe this man. “Do you really think I would accuse you of cheating for the sake of roleplaying, James?”
“Please, stop calling me James.” He knows you only do it when you are angry. That’s why he doesn’t like it. “I don’t know. I thought…” He tries to collect his thoughts. “I thought it was a bit weird, but I was like if that’s what she wants to do, I can give it a try.” You can't believe this man. Is he really clueless or does he try to deceive you?
“Are you fucking serious?”
“Darling… I don’t know why you think that, but I would never ever cheat on you. I can never…” He chokes on the words and you finally notice he might not be lying to you. He might not be deceiving, but what about that photo? What about that redhead who made him laugh so fucking hard?
“You told me we aren’t in a relationship, Bucky.” He notices this time you didn’t call him James and that’s a good sign. Small but important. That encourages him.
“I was acting my part. I thought that’s what you wanted. Baby…” He tries to move closer once again and this time you let him. He carefully holds your hands while looking into your eyes. “From the moment you said yes to me, I considered us as a couple. I know we did not talk about it and I can see it was a huge, huge mistake, but please believe that you are the only one for me.”
“You did?” You can’t help but ask. You need to hear him say it again. You wanna believe him so much, but there are so many questions on your mind, waiting to be asked and answered.
“Of course I did. You have no idea how much it hurts me to see you believe that I could cheat on you with another woman while my heart belongs to you. Not just my heart, I belong to you. Body and soul. I’m yours, darling. Please, believe me.” This… this sounds like your Bucky. The way he talks, the way he looks at you, the way he just looks so sad and broken. 
“I want to believe you, Bucky. I really do. I just can’t delete that photo from my mind. I can't stop thinking about it. That woman was touching you and you were laughing! You laugh so rarely, especially around others, and I– I just don’t know what to think anymore.”
“What photo?” He doesn’t sound defensive or blindsided, only confused. 
You quickly reach out for your phone and open the photo. As soon as you turn the screen towards him, his eyes focus on it for a second, and then he bursts into laughter.
“Why the fuck are you laughing?” Your voice comes out so defensive, but you don’t even realize.
“This is Natasha!” He looks at you. “Remember? I told you about her and how we have similar experiences.”
“That’s how you two actually bonded.” You repeat the words he once said to you. God! She is Natasha. Natasha Romanoff. The woman Bucky told you about so many times because he felt like he finally found a sister. The first person who made him feel like he isn’t alone in this world. He isn’t the only one who got tortured, turned into a killing machine, then managed to get out and start over. And you just got jealous of Natasha. God, you feel like an idiot.
“Yes, exactly!” He approves. “I told you like a week ago that Natasha will be in town and we will meet for a coffee. Remember?”
“Oh god…” You let out a loud groan, remembering exactly the moment he told you, but then so many things happened during the last week. You just… forgot and made an unnecessary scene. You accused him of cheating. If things were reversed, you'd be so hurt. So fucking hurt.
You feel your cheeks burning in shame.
“You even asked me if I wanted to meet her and I just said you go ahead and tell her about me first.” He approves with his eyes and small nods. “God, I am such an idiot!”
“No, you are not.” He quickly responds. “You haven’t met her yet and in the photo… her face isn’t visible.” Then he stops for a second as something comes to his mind. “Who sent you this photo?”
Oh, shit. 
“What makes you think someone sent it to me?” You don’t want to snitch on your friend, she was just trying to have your back. 
“Because if you were there, you wouldn’t just take a photo and leave. You would come and call me out. Someone sent you this photo.” He stops for a second again. “Alice sent this to you, didn’t she?”
You don’t say anything, but you look guilty without intending and it’s enough confirmation for him.
“Look, I am not mad at her. You can tell me that she sent you the photo.” Your eyes meet his while he keeps talking. “I’m glad your best friend has your back. I just wish you gave me the benefit of the doubt.” 
Oh. He sounds hurt again, even more than before.
“I’m sorry, Bucky.” You close the distance between you two completely. Your body is pressed against his and the warmth of him starts to calm you down. You just hope it will do the same to him. “She sent me a voice message and she sounded so… I don’t know… shaken. I couldn’t believe you could hug someone and laugh so hard with someone else. I couldn’t believe… that you would do this to me.”
“I understand that feeling, but I am just… hurt.”
“Can I make it better?” You ask immediately while reaching for his cheek. Your fingertips move towards his lips slowly. “Please, let me make it better.”
“What are you suggesting Ms. I doubt we have a relationship but I am gonna accuse you of cheating anyway?” 
You laugh because of that long-ass but rightfully deserved nickname. You should've talked about your relationship with him before anything like this happened. You should’ve given him the benefit of the doubt because he never made you doubt him before. Yet the jealousy you felt was so powerful. Actually, you can still feel it. That strong sensation is inside you, running through your veins, only getting calmed down by the loving words spilled from his lips. For the first time in your life, you notice what a jealous person you are. 
Instead of answering his question, you raise up on your toes and give him a kiss. Your intention is clear, but you don’t want to push him. If he needs a little time alone, he can end the kiss any second without feeling bad about it. That’s why you keep your kiss light and sweet, but in a couple of seconds, you realize that’s not what he wants.
He wraps his arms around your body and pulls you closer, then tilts his head just a little to deepen the kiss. That’s when you let a moan out for the first time. His tongue is moving so sweetly you get lost in the freaking kiss. While you are enjoying the taste of him, Bucky moves his metal hand toward your ass and grabs it a bit harshly, which instantly makes you gasp. Before you can do anything, he lifts you up with no effort. God, you love it when he does that. You quickly wrap your legs around his waist and enjoy feeling him this close to you. Despite still having your clothes on, you can feel the warmth radiating from his body. It just makes you feel safe. You wrap your arms around his neck and keep kissing him like your life depends on it. You are just glad he’s on the same page as you.
In a matter of seconds, you are on your bed waiting to find out what’s next. Usually, Bucky starts with getting you ready. That means either kisses, licks or sometimes when you are already very close to being ready, sucks. He gives you whatever you want, but this time it feels different. He moves away from you unexpectedly and takes off his shirt pretty quickly. Then he looks directly at you while his hands start to work on his belt.
“I've just realized…” He speaks while unbuckling. “I don’t think you deserve my attention yet.”
His words catch you off guard. He never said anything like this before. Deserving his attention? God… Those words make the blood rush in your veins.
“What can I do to deserve it again?” 
“Well, I can think of a couple of things.” He unzips himself suggestively and oh dear god… He wants you to do something you suggested before! This man… He can’t be real.
You move closer to the edge of the bed and stand on your knees. Before he can take his pants off, you move your hand inside his boxers and gently grab him.
“Something like this?”
He lets out a low moan before answering. “Something like this.”
You push his pants and boxers down, his already hard cock bouncing a little. God… You really want to do this. You can feel your mouth watering just at the thought of it. You take him in your hand, running your fingers all over it, getting mentally ready. He is already making such delicious sounds while you are doing the most basic things. You try to imagine how he'll react when he is deep inside your mouth.
You are excited about all the possibilities, but you still take your sweet time. The first step is moving your hand away and replacing it with your lips. You don’t take him inside your mouth or give him a lick. No, you are going to start really slow. Instead, you give him kisses all over. You avoid his hard cock for a while and focus on what’s around. Then your lips move to the place where he’s aching the most. While he’s expecting more kisses, you give him a big lick, which makes him moan loudly. Even though you've just started, you already feel like a winner.
You keep teasing him with your tongue for a while until you feel ready. You look up at him before taking him inside your mouth and he gives you one of those killer smiles.
“If you wanna stop, tap on my thighs, alright?” His tone is completely different: so soft and caring, which makes you wanna try this with him even more.
“I will.”
You take a deep breath before taking him. This isn’t the first time he’s inside your mouth. This isn’t the first time you are giving him a blowjob, either, but you never took him so deep and let him fuck your mouth. Giving away all the control you have is a little scary but also exciting. 
He lets you work at your own pace. You take him inside your mouth inch by inch, trying to relax and just not think much about it. Of course, that’s easier said than done, and triggering your gag reflex doesn’t take long. He takes a deep breath, trying to contain himself. His hands are already in your hair, just tangled between the strands without pulling.
“We don’t have to do this right now, you know…” He reminds you.
Hell no. You are the one who wanted to try this. You aren’t gonna give up that easily. You simply shake your head while your mouth is full and keep going. Taking another big breath through your nose and moving your head a bit more. A couple more inches of his hard cock disappear inside your mouth. That’s when you feel him touch the back of your throat. 
Holy shit! Your mouth is full of him!
You look up, feeling proud of yourself. You can see it in his eyes that he’s so fucking lost in the pleasure already. 
“Are you ready, doll?” The raspiness of his voice shoots strings of arousal down to your lower belly and you feel the wetness between your legs growing. You give him the confirmation with your eyes and he starts to move.
At first, it isn’t overwhelming as you imagined. It’s just a pressure you aren’t used to. You let him use your mouth however he wants, but notice that he’s still being careful. Yet the sounds he’s making just… drive you crazy. They turn you on even more and you can’t believe that’s actually possible. As he starts to move a little bit faster, getting lost because of the pleasure you feel the wetness growing even more. 
“God…” He’s louder than before. “This feels– amazing. It’s… it must be– a sin to– feel this good.”
Oh, how much you wanna reply, but your mouth is too occupied for that. Instead, you whine and moan. The vibrations of the sounds amplify his pleasure for a second.
“Fuck!” He’s losing the little control he has for sure. “Your fucking mouth!” He thrusts a little harder than before and you start to feel the tears building up in the corners of your eyes. “Wet.” He trusts. “Hot.” Another thrust follows. “And mine.” 
Just like that, you feel his come shooting down to your throat with a loud moan that fills you with the feeling of victory. He slowly takes himself out of your mouth and you notice how his cock is covered with thick spit. While you are trying to go back to normal, he is breathing loudly. So loud that it's all you can hear.
“That was…” He tries to speak, but his voice gives out in the middle of the sentence.
God damn, I made a super soldier lose his cool.
This isn’t the first time you did it, but it’s the first time it’s this visible. 
“Good? Great? Amazing?” You play a bit arrogant thinking you deserve it.
“Earth-shattering.”
The voice in your mind instantly goes: Fuck yes!
“Does it mean I deserve your attention now?” You keep your tone as innocent as possible like you aren’t talking about sex at all.
“Definitely. Lay back.” 
You love when he gets all demanding for the sake of your pleasure. You do as he says and watch him climb on top of the bed and take off your pants. He drops them without care and his middle finger finds its way between your folds over the underwear.
“Oh, poor thing.” The teasing is so fucking obvious in his voice. “You are drenched. Do you need a hand?” This time his palm slowly brushes down and god… you never needed to feel a hand so badly as you do right now. As you nod, he continues. “Let me show you how you are the only one for me then.”
He grips your underwear on both sides and suddenly takes it off. Your wetness is even more apparent now as he moves his middle finger between the folds again. It feels so damn good even without him touching your clit, but he does. He touches it so lightly, his fingertip only brushing, bringing all the wetness up so he can make you scream. You let out a deep moan, pushing yourself against his finger.
“So impatient, aren’t you?”
“I am.” you don't feel any shame. This is the man you love and you want all the pleasure he can give you.
“Since you are so honest… I won’t let you wait.” He pushes a finger inside you as he is talking and you gasp loudly in return. He moves it inside and out a couple of times before he adds the second one. “You are so fucking wet for me. You don’t even need stretching at all.”
You make an approving sound. You really would love to have his cock inside you right now but you know how talented he is with his hands. You can already feel the approaching orgasm and you desperately need it.
“I love it when you are so open like this.” He pushes his fingers a little bit harder than before. “Tell me…” He dramatically pauses for a second. “Do you want the third finger?”
“Yes!” Your answer is instant. “Please.”
“You wanna come already?” You nod eagerly. “Alright, darling.” He pushes the third finger inside, all three brushing that extra sensitive spot now, making you see stars. You don’t even notice how you lose control. He listens to your panting and moans and lets you beg for more knowing damn well all you need is him keeping up the same pace and he’s right. In a matter of seconds, you feel the pleasure explode inside you. It takes you in, makes you swim over the clouds, and then relief washes all over you. 
Bucky gradually slows down while letting you ride your orgasm until the last second. You take a couple of deep breaths and then look at his pretty face as he glances back at you with the warmest smile. Then your eyes drop down and you see he’s hard again. It doesn’t surprise you anymore like it used to. It’s one of the biggest benefits of the super soldier serum: having the best recovery time ever. His hardness waters your mouth again, but you know that it’s time for something else. You gotta do something about that wetness between your legs. Your mouth can wait.
Finally, you rise to your knees again and move on top of him. 
“My little doll wants more.” He places his hands around your body, moving them slowly as he talks. “What do you want darling? You wanna ride me?”
God, the way he speaks does things to you. Over the course of the flirting phase with him, you discovered that shameless part of yourself and you don’t care anymore. You don’t care if you are being too open. You don’t feel shy to accept that you want to ride him because you know he’s there to give it to you. Whatever you want.
“Yes.” You push his chest a little knowing them well you can’t do anything unless he lets you. And he always lets you. He falls on his back voluntarily. “Just enjoy the show.”
“Oh, I will.” He smirks and puts both of his hands behind his back, getting comfortable.
“No, no, no.” You reach for his hands and bring them to your breasts. “I want you to touch me.”
“Gladly.” He squeezes both of them before you move up a little. You open up a bit of space between you two, grabbing his cock and aligning it to your entrance, and with one swift movement he’s balls deep inside you.
“Fuck–ing hell.”
All you can do is moan as you feel so deliciously full and stretched even without moving at all. Your hands are on his chest, trying to support yourself while getting used to the feeling of him inside you. 
“Move, darling.” He sounds so impatient, so wrecked, so needy.
After a couple of breaths, you start to move slowly with your hands still on his chest, helping yourself keep the slow pace you are building. It feels so good, so fucking good to be on top. Not only do you feel full of him, but you are also fully in control. He’s a big strong man, much more stronger than any other and yet he just lays down and lets you do whatever you want to him. You wanna ride him? You can. You wanna torture him? You can. The power you have over him makes you feel invincible. 
His hands are all over you: massaging your nipples, caressing your tummy and grabbing your waist. When you start to move a little bit faster, his hands settle on your ass, trying to help you very subtly. It may be subtle for him but it makes a huge difference for you as he starts to hit the right spot inside you. You feel it and he definitely feels it because he makes sure to do it over and over again. Both of you are shaken because of the pleasure such a small change creates. Your moans get louder while he’s taking sharp breaths to hold himself back.
“I’m– I’m gonna–”
“I know, baby.” Your answer is quick because you can clearly see how the veins on his neck are extra visible and how his eyes are rolling back in pleasure. He doesn’t have to say it. You already know. “Me too.” 
That’s all the confirmation he needs as you gear up. When the first wave of your orgasm hits, he stops holding back. Instead, he starts to thrust back while you're still moving. 
“Fuc– Bucky!” The words slip out without intending. It feels so fucking good.
“Keep going! Keep going!” He instructs while thrusting inside you. In a matter of seconds, you are both moaning loudly.
“Oh, fuck!” He curses before he starts to spill inside you. He keeps going, just to prolong your orgasm, and what an orgasm it is! As you hold on to him, you feel breathless. He watches you as you get down from that high, tired but looking blissed out.
“You are so fucking pretty.” He closes the distance between you two and gives you a messy, sloppy kiss. “And you are mine. All mine.” 
“And are you?” You ask while still breathing heavily. “Are you mine?”
“All yours, darling. As long as you want me.”
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Tolerate It pt. 3 || Young! Coriolanus Snow X reader
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"Took this dagger in me and removed it, gained the weight of you then lose it... If its all in my head tell me now. Tell me I've got it wrong somehow, I know my love should be celebrated but you tolerate it"
You don't need to read pt 1 to understand what is happening but if you want to ITS HERE
Part two is a little necessary but you'll prob catch on. Part two HERE
TLDR: Truly feeling like the luckiest person alive when your former classmate and short-term boyfriend asked you to marry him. Not even a year into the marriage and also a year into his presidency does the original love and admiration you felt for him start to dissipate. You can't help but feel trapped and tricked into a marriage in which he may have never loved you to begin with.
Warnings: Angst, Love-Bombing, marriage, gender ambiguous reader, typical snow tags (manipulation), alcohol, alluding to sexual acts but not described, kissing, unclear motives, crying, death, the reader being so delulu and manipulated omg, slight classism, self unaliving, blood
WORD COUNT: 7k
A/N: This is a dialogue-heavy one. Lots of yappin today y'all. Also a LOT and I mean a LOT darker than the others. I POSTED THIS LAST NIGHT BUT FORGOT TO PUT ANY TAGS SO I GOTTA REPOST IT
~
The morning light peered through the curtains of our bedroom ever so slightly, just enough that I could feel the warmth on my nose. I scrunched my face and squirmed under the covers. It wasn't until I felt the weight of his body move from beside me and get out of bed, that I reached my arm out for Coriolanus just to be greeted with nothing. I fluttered my eyes open and looked over. I watched intently while he threw on some clothes. God, he was gorgeous. Strikingly blond curls bouncing while he moved, his toned body with broad shoulders, a thin waist, those blue eyes and sharp jaw, he was so stunning. I love my husband so much. I whispered a quick 'good morning' to him and all he could do was hum in response. I sat up in the bed and used the sheet to cover myself up.
"Where are you going, Darling?"
"I have some business to attend to. You wouldn't understand, my beautiful empty head."
Aww. He called me beautiful. He gave me a quick glance before heading out and slamming the door behind him. I got out of bed and scoured the room for something decent to put on. Clothes from the night before had been scattered and I knew I'd have to add laundry to today's agenda. I picked up a white silk shirt from atop the dress and I threw the shirt over my head, I let out a soft sigh, looking over at myself in the tall gold mirror taking note of the smudged makeup and eyeliner that had dried in blackened streaks down my face from last night's tears. Tiny hickies decorated my neck and collarbones and I couldn't stop the smile that spread on my face from the joy I felt from Coriolanus claiming me as his. Gratitude is the best way I can describe the feeling. I am married to the most powerful man in Panem. What could I have done to deserve this?
Our relationship got rocky sometimes, yes, but he was just busy. I can't help but blame myself for how he was treating me after we got married. To be fair, he did just become president. I can't even imagine how stressful that must've been for him. It made sense why it felt like he had no time for me. Last night he admitted he never even knew I felt so neglected, it must've been my fault. Clearly, he loves me right?
Last night, I felt so loved, the way he kissed me and wrapped his arms around me, his aroma filled my senses. He loves me so much, if he didn't he wouldn't be showing me off to a whole nation of people right?
I kept asking myself for reassurance, but I had my answer, no one just marries someone they don't love.
Right?
Of course, he does. I remember when it started, it was real, so real. He's just been so tired these past few months. He has his reasons and I should understand that I can't be so selfish to be in his life taking up too much space and time. I am lucky for the sentences I will get in the story of a monumental man. Looking in the mirror of the vanity, I took a deep breath and smiled in contentment. My eyes continued to scan the display. The vanity was a white desk and drawer set with a large and extravagant mirror outlined with gold. I had hand-painted vines of ivy on the wood. The desk had makeup and my rose-scented perfume. Honestly, I always preferred fruity and sweet scents but Coryo loves it more when I smell like roses. My fingers tapped the delicate glass bottle before I placed it back down and walked to the window to look over the garden where we had the party last night.
Tables were still set up and cups littered the lawn. I giggled a little bit, remembering the fun people were having dancing around the area without a care in the world. There was always a certain type of peace that came after parties when everyone left. Similar to nostalgia where it's that strong sense of bliss but also a certain emptiness that comes from the drop from high emotions and energy to nothingness. Still, the memories of the fun of last night came back to me. A few men dressed in white peacekeeper uniforms started to file into the area and I cocked an eyebrow up in confusion. They must be coming to clean up the trash. My eyes followed them.
That's when I saw it.
The body of a tall man with ginger hair lay lifeless on his back on the stone pathway of the garden. It was the same man that I had talked with last night, Curtis. His eyes were rolled back into his head and speckles of blood could be seen on the corners of his mouth. A cup was held loosely in his hand. I gasped and my jaw hung low in shock. How could this have happened? Did he choke on something? Got into a fight? The peacekeepers started to harshly pick up his body and filed him out. Did Coryo know about this? The blood quickly left my face and I felt a sinking sense of doom in my stomach.
I had only known the man for a moment, but I felt like he was a good man. He didn't deserve whatever happened to him. The peacekeepers left the area and then moments later the maids came in to clean. Tears started to prick the corner of my eyes before I gulped heavily. Maybe he just drank too much last night. The red was just dried wine...
Yes
Yes
That made sense right...?
I had to think of something to ease my mind. Maybe I could ask Coryo about it later. More and more maids filed into the area, their black uniforms making the whole scene previously seem more grim. Red started appearing in my teary-eyed peripheral vision and I quickly shut the curtains. My chest heaved up and down as I struggled to catch my breath. I had to collect myself. I probably didn't understand the situation fully, Coriolanus knows what's going on, he always does. I won't worry about it until he comes home. I walked over the desk and wrote little notes for him on a few pieces of paper, scattering them around the bedroom. Then, I went to take a shower. I was going to have lunch with my mother today, I had to get ready.
~
The doorbell rang and I walked over to answer it. Instantly, my mother had wrapped her arms around me bringing me into a warm hug.
"Y/N! Sweetheart I missed you so much it's been so long," she spoke softly and I couldn't help the childish smile that dragged across my face.
"I haven't seen you since the wedding mom I missed you too," she loosened her grip on me and walked into the house.
"Wow... you truly are living in a life of luxury now sweetie look at this place... I see you put your little artistic flair on things haha," she joked and awed at the size of the house.
"Oh, the little paintings? I didn't think other people would notice them haha, after I dust I like to add the little things and details around. I've been hoping Coryo would notice but he's just a man, and he's so busy and tired all the time I can't blame him for not noticing. You should look at the plates when we eat today! I've been trying to add things to the table wear, which makes eating a lot more fun."
She continued to look around and I watched intently while her eyes followed the small roses, vines, clouds, and butterflies I had painted on the pillars and edges of the house. She then brought her attention back to me and pressed her lips into a thin smile, a glint of sadness was painted into her stormy eyes.
"Sweetheart, you look so thin, are you eating well? He doesn't have you on some crazy diet does he? With the amount of money you guys have I feel like you should be eating three-course meals for every meal..."
"Mom please~ I'm an adult, don't worry about me so much."
"That doesn't answer my question."
"Come on let's go sit down at the table, foods' almost ready." I interlocked my arm with hers and started to guide her to the dining room. We sat facing each other. The chefs cooking could be heard faintly.
"How is the married life treating you?"
"Um... Well honestly mom, it's been rough. I felt like the original spark of our relationship had been extinguished the moment he put this ring on my finger, he had grown very cold and I swear there were days that went by where he didn't even look at me but last night we talked it out. He didn't even know I felt like that so I can't be mad at him"
"Sweetheart, I've been here for about 10 minutes and I can't help but continue to pick up these little details that are showing he isn't treating you the way you deserve. You are smarter than this Y/N I raised a strong fighting spirit, you survived a war with us and never let that darkness cloud the brightness that is your light but right now honey, you seem sad. I don't think your romantic spark is the only thing he's diminishing sweetheart, he's burning you out." Her hand reached out for mine and we interlocked fingers. She looked deeply into my eyes and I watched as the concern grew in hers.
"No mom it's not like that. He's just busy, you should know how hard he's working. I know my place is to sit and listen to him, he's so much wiser than I am. He's a great man and he loves me," I started to get a little defensive but tried to hold my temper. Her lips pursed and she gave my hand another squeeze. It was then the chefs came out and placed our plates in front of us. We sat in silence for a moment while we started to eat.
"You're stubborn I know. The more we tell you to run from him the further it pushes you away from us and closer to him. You should be celebrated, you do so much for this man and he gives you nothing. This... this just doesn't seem healthy."
"Mom. I'm fine. I'm breathing. My health is fine"
"But your soul isn't."
Her words spit venom into me and I froze in place and listened. "Truly, what kind of man doesn't let his spouse see their family more than once every few months. I had to beg him to be able to see you today. We all miss you at home. Hell, I miss you."
Shock ran through my body while I spoke. "He told me you never reached out for these past few months." A chuckle left her lips. "Does that man do anything but lie? I shouldn't be surprised... politicians will always say what you want to hear and what benefits them."
"Mom I- can we please talk about something else? I don't appreciate you disrespecting my husband. I shouldn't have ever said anything. This is why he doesn't want you around is you keep disrespecting him. I promise mom everything is okay. Just rocky sometimes and that's mostly my fault."
Her face scrunched up and she looked away to avoid eye contact. She frowned before taking another bite of the food.
"It just hurts to see you like this... I almost feel like I should've stopped it sooner-"
"Mom," I cut her off and slammed my fist on the table slightly. She quickly shut up again before her lips parted.
"How was the party last night?"
"Lovely, the capital parties are always a joy. Coryo even made a toast to me at the end of the night it was so heartwarming." I smiled, happy she changed the subject. I started to gush about how sweet Coryo was last night to try and defend himself from my mother. I don't understand why all of my loved ones just couldn't seem to like him.
"Did he talk to you?" She asked tilting her head up.
"Who?"
"Curtis."
My face went pale and my jaw dropped. Flashbacks to what I had seen that morning rushed into my mind and I sat there horrified. First was the shock then the confusion.
"He's a friend of your older brother. He's been living with us for awhile while his new house gets built. Your brother asked him personally to come to the party last night to try and talk to you. We weren't sure if we were going to be able to see you today so we were trying to find any way to talk to you and make sure you were okay."
"He um... yes I do believe I talked to him. He was very charming, sweet. He reminded me of someone I used to know but we only talked for a little last night..." I was in a daze while I spoke. I didn't want to talk about Coryo's jealous outburst or what I saw that morning.
"That's good to hear. Y/N how was he last night? He didn't come home last night though. Was he drunk when you left? We've been worried sick."
"He... no he seemed very sober though he did have the confidence of a drunk man." I tried to joke to distract from the adrenaline and fear that was pumping through my veins.
"Sweetheart I can tell when you're keeping things from me. Please, darling you can tell me anything, I'm your mother"
I avoid her eye contact like the plague and continued to eat my food, struggling to swallow.
"It's nothing really, I'm just a little tired today that's all. Mom, eat your food please, it's delicious. How's dad?"
Her suspicious mind was reflected in her suspicious eyes. She was not going to let this go so easily. I could see the same grim expression I had on my face from earlier start to spread on hers.
"The first thing I ever heard about your husband was that any person who got too close to him ended up dead, missing or disgraced. I truly hope you don't follow in those same steps."
"Mom, you guys told me that same line over and over again before we got married and it's not even true. Name one person who he's done that to"
She scoffed and spoke quietly.
"Lucy Gray."
I raised an eyebrow at her in confusion.
"Who?"
"I don't believe you watched The Hunger Games this year, you never liked the blood. There truly isn't any way to confirm this now but Coriolanus was in charge of mentoring a girl from District 12 named Lucy Gray. She was a songbird and I remember the first time I watched her sing on television, it was breathtaking. Rumors spread that your husband fell in love with her and planned to run off with her and then one day, she disappears. Not a single trace left but he returned. He returned to the capital and mysteriously got gifted a scholarship and an internship. That is a shady man."
"Respectfully mom I think you're telling folk tales right now. He told me I was his first love, the first one to make him feel so alive so that can't be true. I've never even heard of this girl. Wouldn't my classmates have said something?"
She shrugged. "I wouldn't say anything to upset the man suspected of such crimes." Suddenly, a peacekeeper walked into the dining room and another followed in. Doors slammed around us and one spoke in a booming voice. "By orders of President Snow, we have been assigned to escort you out of here ma'am" They got on either side of my mom and grabbed her arms.
"There must be some sort of mistake here, it's barely 2, he said I could be here till 3! Let me down!"
I stood there frozen and helpless, I had no clue what to do. I yelled at them to wait but they pulled her out of her seat then started to head out. She started kicking and tried to fight back. "Let me say goodbye! I need a hug! I am the mother here, it's my right to see my child! He sent you guys here huh? Can't stand my kid hearing the truth? All this that's happening to me is his fault!"
"Mama! Goodbye! I love you!"
"He did it Y/N! You know he did it! Don't let it happen to you my love! Fight, there must be a way out! You're better than this. I love you!"
She shouted while they escorted her out. Her voice echoed around the room whispering the words 'He did it'. As much as I shook my head I couldn't stop thinking about it. Sickening silence bounced against the walls while my head ran back everything that had just happened. I couldn't help but let warm tears fall from my eyes while I sat back down in my chair. I'm so confused. I just needed my husband right now. A maid walked in and cleaned up the table and I sat in the chair and cried.
~
I laid down in bed, sitting up staring at the ceiling. The bed was as comfortable as sleeping on a cloud but I couldn't sleep, nothing could calm the storm in my head. The door handle turned and I saw Coryo glace into the room. His blue eyes made eye contact with mine as he stepped into the room slowly. He shut the door behind him and started to loosen his tie.
"Darling, you're still up?"
"I can't sleep..." I admitted and watched as his plump lips parted to expel a sigh. He started to change into his pajamas.
"Why dear?" He started to crawl into bed and pulled me into him with his strong arms.
"Can I ask you a question?" I felt his grip on me tighten before he nodded and hummed a soft 'yes' into the air. A sigh left my lungs and I pressed my hand against my temples. Where do I even start?
"Coryo... have you ever killed anyone before?"
"W- what?"
I tipped my head up and looked deep into his blue eyes to search for any form of sincerity. "Please be honest with me... please..."
"Darling what could have ever put these sorts of ideas in your pretty little head?"
"Coryo that's not important now please answer me. I just want your honesty here, if you're honest I will not judge you, I- I'll still love you."
The only emotion I could see on his face was panic. He removed his arm from my body and I started to panic in response. He had just started being nice to me again and I was worried I pushed him away. My big mouth just couldn't stay shut.
"Y/N, of course I haven't. Who do you perceive me as? Some kind of monster? The only person I have ever killed is my past self and he had to die so I could be the man I am today, a man ready to love you the way you deserve."
He was rambling and his lack of eye contact made me feel uneasy. I wanted to believe him, I truly did but with the way he was acting, I couldn't wholeheartedly believe him and that made me feel sick. I should not be this distrustful of my husband. I started to zone off, lost in deep thought when his hand met my jaw and he positioned my head up to look at him. "Y/N you trust me don't you? I've done everything for you, you should trust me darling." He planted a quick kiss on my forehead. "I- I believe you Coryo." He smiled down and then pressed a kiss to my lips. I melted against his touch and placed my hands to cup his face. When we pulled away I still couldn't shake the questions that flooded my head. Remembering what my mother said, I couldn't help myself from the words spilling out of my mouth.
"Coryo... one last question, Who is Lucy Gray?"
His lips parted and his eyes frantically started to search my face. "How did you hear about her?"
"Coryo?"
Anger started to flood his eyes and his jaw clenched. Regret filled every part of my body and I sat up on the bed, keeping my hands on his face. "I'm sorry Coryo, is that a touchy subject I-" He was quiet for a moment as if planning what he was going to say.
"She... she was a nobody girl from District 12. I had to mentor her for The Hunger Games that year for my school project. I came out on top, Snow always lands on top."
He spoke through gritted teeth while he looked into my eyes, scanning my face for a reaction. What he told me so far aligned exactly with what my mom told me. This was even more worrying. There had to be more. He was keeping something from me. He could sense my distrust and started to speak again, more carefully.
"Darling, do you want the full truth?"
"Yes Coryo..."
He let out a heavy sigh. "She was my first girlfriend. We had a short fling and then she cheated on me." My jaw dropped. "Oh Coryo I'm so sorry..." I reached out and pulled him into a tight hug, tangling my fingers in his blond locks of hair. "It's okay darling, you didn't know. You don't know a lot of things." His hands started to rub my back up and down while I held him close.
"I never loved her anyways, I could never love someone so low class and trashy."
In an odd way I felt almost comforted by that statement. It meant he wasn't lying to me, I was his first love, right? He placed his hands on my stomach and pushed me away from the hug. My arms fell back down to my sides and I stared at him with deep remorse in my eyes. He smiled again, "It's okay Darling, is there anything else I can answer for you to put your troubled mind at ease?" Truthfully, I had a lot more questions but I felt bad and I didn't want to push him away more, not when our relationship was so delicate. I shook my head 'no' and he hummed before laying down on the bed. I followed suit and he turned his back to me.
"Goodnight"
"Goodnight..."
"I love you"
And then I was met with silence.
~
The next day passed and it was business as usual but I still couldn't get my mother's voice out of my head. My ears rang with every corner I turned. I saw Coryo's panicked face every time I closed my eyes after I asked him if he had killed anyone. It made me sick to my stomach but I didn't believe him. I do believe my mom was wrong about Lucy Gray though, he was genuinely hurt when I asked about her. I couldn't even imagine anyone wanting to cheat on him. Especially a girl from District 12, the opportunity to be with a capital man, especially one as charming, smart, and talented as Coryo should be a blessing. My poor husband probably had to deal with so much then.
When he came home he didn't talk to me that day. He couldn't even look me in the eye really. I felt wildly embarrassed and guilty. Of course, he was pulling away again, I pushed him. I should've just kept my pretty mouth shut like he had asked. My mom must have been mistaken. They don't know him like I do. It was nice to know how much they cared about me though.
Coriolanus slept in his office that night. I assume he had business to attend to so I just sat and tried to sleep alone in bed.
~
The next morning I woke up late and decided to try and make it up to Coryo by trying to leave more "I love you" notes around the house. I painted a portrait of a lake on one of his mugs, adding rose and ivy details to the handle. Stumbling down the hallway in the afternoon I walked by Coryo's office. I knew I wasn't allowed in there but damn it I was so curious. There were two maids in there talking and I silently eavesdropped.
"Careful when dusting that... This man has a lot of secrets and what's in those vials one I do not want to know about."
The other laughed and they continued to clean up.
"Isn't it odd we decided to have such a liar for a president?"
'Liar?' I thought. Why does everyone seem to think he's a liar?
"Yeah but he's great for the economy and the future of Panem."
Silence filled the room and then they both started laughing again.
"That doesn't seem to make it any better, then again, let's not bite the hand that feeds us."
They started to finish cleaning his office and once they left I snuck in. My hands traced around the walls of his office, it was small and packed with things. On his desk lay a little book filled with names and numbers, a pack of matches, a single white rose, and the vials the maids were talking about. Curiously, I reached for it. It was probably liquor or something. I picked it up carefully and examined it. It was clear and sealed shut. Cautiously, I started to unscrew the top and placed a drop of it on my finger. The liquid burned through my skin and I yelped loudly in pain. I grabbed a napkin and wiped it off my hand. I screamed in pain and the smell of burning flesh filled the room. Hot tears ran down my face as I removed the napkin and saw the damage that it left. My finger was red, hot, and my flesh was melted in the shape of a circle where the drop had been placed. Gasping desperately for breath, I tightly closed the lid of the vile and put it right back where I found it. I continued to cry from the searing pain, my finger throbbed and I whimpered desperately trying to keep quiet. I picked up my trash and made sure I left no trace of myself in there while I rushed to the kitchen, rinsing my finger under the water. Once the burning had gone away I slid down and laid my back against the kitchen cabinet.
"F- fuck fuck fuck- fucking poison. WHY THE FUCK WOULD HE HAVE POISON?"
I started to rock back and forth while I watched the skin around the burn turn purple. This must've been some sort of divine punishment to me for going into his office knowing I wasn't supposed to. One maid heard my wailing and hurried over to help me. She put an ointment on my finger before wrapping it up in a band-aid and above all, she didn't ask a question. I couldn't tell if that meant she was used to this kind of thing or if she was trained not to. I picked myself up off the floor and continued to go about my day and pretend that nothing happened.
Coryo didn't come to bed that night, I wasn't too sure if he had even come home honestly. I fell asleep alone again with nothing but my thoughts.
~
The next morning I was awakened by a rough hand shaking my shoulder. I yawned and opened my eyes to be met with Coryo's blue ones. They were deep and full of concern. He was sitting next to me on the bed still in his work clothes. I felt that pit of grief deep in my stomach again. Something was wrong, greatly wrong. "Coryo?" I asked, trying to remain calm.
"Y/N..."
"Coryo what's the matter?"
He sighed with deep remorse and said the worst news I had ever heard in my life. "Your parents... Y/N... your whole family they... um... their house burned down last night and the firefighters couldn't make it in time. When they arrived there, they searched the house but not a single survivor was found. They did find this though in your mothers room," He handed me a single stuffed doll. The doll was mine from when I was a child, it didn't have a single burn on it. I held it in my hands and sat staring at it in silence. They were gone. My whole family was gone. The tears threatened to spill but I felt so sick of crying lately. Why did my life feel like it was falling apart so fast? I just wanted a happy life as a newly wed and I have gotten nothing remotely close to that.
"Coryo... What's wrong with me? I'm like a bomb, anyone who cares about me either leaves me or dies... Am I cursed? I didn't even get to say goodbye. I didn't even get to hug them or- or- or see how big my little brother got or how smart my older brother is. I- I- I should've seen them more," I started weep, my tears starting to fall onto the doll below me, as if my tear were staining the innocence of the girl I used to be. Coriolanus grabbed me and held me close as I started to cry furiously into his chest. He planted a soft kiss on the top of my head and tried to whisper things to calm me down. His hands rubbed up and down my back.
"Darling, it's okay. You're going to be okay. You have me. I'll be here for you always. I make you happy, right? Your parents were always trying to keep you away from me... they didn't know you like I do. They don't know what you need darling but I do. We are going to get through this together, okay?'
I could barely process what he was saying through my tears. I just nodded into his chest and he continued to let me cry. I felt so safe in his arms in this moment. He was right, I do need him.
~
I couldn't get out of bed for days. The grief struck me overwhelmingly. I couldn't think straight. I just lay in bed and stared at the ceiling for hours at a time. When the foggy mist of the shock that had clouded my rationale finally faded I was left with the remaining thoughts. What was even real in this life anymore? I remember feeling so sad when almost none of my friends showed up to my wedding. I felt so alone and isolated but at least I knew I still had my family and my husband to be there for me and now, all I had was Coriolanus. I love him, I need him, but he's the type that gives love and then takes it away.
Maybe my mom was right... Maybe I do deserve better. This relationship isn't healthy. Has it ever been? Even when I was first falling for him, I always viewed him as better than me, which he is but shouldn't we be equal? Maybe... I'm too reliant on the love he gives me. I hate that. I hate how big of a hold he has on me. The way my happiness is always at the tip of his fingers, it makes me feel so weak. His hold on me is degrading. The worst part is, he knows how strong his power over me is. He knows me. He's learned me inside and out and he knows how to keep me under his palm.
My mom was right. The night of the party, he started yelling at me then when I threatened to leave him he switched. How could- how could I be so stupid? He switched because he didn't want me to leave him. He needed me to be there for him, to be his shining sparkling eye candy, to complete his perfect picture of domestic living, to be his waiting servant. And then when we made love that night, it must've not meant anything to him. He knows I believe everything people do has a purpose, he knows I don't ever want to exchange sex like a handshake. He slept with me to prove to me that he 'loves me' but that can't be true. I love him, his heart will never have space for me in it. No man treats someone he loves the way he treats me. I've been aware of this but every time I've gotten the courage to leave him he pulled me back in.
He's smart, he's manipulative. He's been doing it to me for months now. How could I be so stupid? Love is the most embarrassing thing to ever happen to me. He found his wide-eyed dreamer and just needed to ruin me. Even recently, he used my parent's death to try and make me even more dependent on him and it worked. I can't live without him.
"He did it"
His desk, the poison, no sane and normal man keeps poison in his office. It's making me think. The boy... the one my parents sent. Did Coryo know he was going to be there? He must've, the party was invite-only, you don't just sneak into the capital parties. The last thing Curtis did before he left was pour himself another cup of the juice. When Coryo ushered me into the house, I heard a man coughing from the garden but I didn't look, I couldn't, I was pushed away. His body the next morning... He had blood on his mouth. I remember learning from the academy that some poisons often makes you cough up blood before you die. Coryo had the poison. Could it be... did Coryo murder him?
"He did it"
Before I looked away when I saw his body in the garden, a glint of red could be seen in my vision. Was that his red coat?
"He did it"
Oh my god, the matches. He told me my parents house burned down.
"He did it"
The book with the names and numbers... who's names were in that book? What were the numbers?
"He did it"
I got out of bed for the first time in ages and rushed down to his office. My bones ached from the lack of mobility. I reached his office and rushed in. His notebook was gone. I started opening his drawers frantically. Finally, I found it. I opened up the pages and that was the last bit of proof I needed. His journal had the names and addresses of the different capital citizens, one page dedicated to every member of my family.
"He did it"
The matches were missing fully. Not anywhere to be found.
"He did it"
The doll. My doll. The doll probably reminded him of me, just a pretty object he can play with whenever he wants something to hold. It didn't have a single burn mark on it at all, he must've gotten it before the fire. Either that means my family let him into the house before he burned it down or he's been keeping it for a while.
"He did it"
My mom did say she had been trying to reach out to me for ages but couldn't. He was stopping them. He wanted to keep me isolated. I really didn't know who I was marrying. I married a murderer.
"He did it"
I couldn't continue to live with him but I can't live without him. It made me feel sick how much love I still felt for him even knowing he had been trying to destroy me from the inside out. I can't let him take my light. My mom really was right. Everyone who gets close to him ends up dead, missing, or disgraced. It's my turn to pick which path I was going to be.
My heart raced as I ripped a page out of his notebook and wrote a note for him, leaving it on the desk. I reached over and grabbed that familiar vile of poison and unscrewed the top. The cold glass hit my lips and I drank the contents like a shot. My heart raced and I started coughing profusely, everything burned from the inside out. Blood started to flow out the corners of my mouth but for once, I wasn't crying. Mama, I'm coming.
"He did it"
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Coriolanus Snows POV
I'd be lying if I said I didn't cry when I found Y/N dead on the floor of my office. Blood trickled down the side of their mouth and they were holding the tiny vial I had on my desk. Y/N knew not to go into my office and frankly, I was shocked to see that it happened in there. On my desk was a note that said: "Till death do us part". I screamed loudly and felt like my body wasn't my own as I feverishly picked up the body and walked to the nearest in-house medic. Tears poured down my face. How dare Y/N just decide to selfishly leave me like this? After everything I had done? All the trouble I went through? It was ridiculous. I remember thinking, "I had you."
When I first met Y/N I remember believing that they were the embodiment of everything good in the world and the embodiment of what I needed in a partner. Loyal, innocent, trusting, naive, controllable. Truly, there isn't any room in this world for such goodness. My darling needed to be tougher or the cold world would do nothing but ruin them. I tried to make them tougher but their unconditional love was annoying at times but I tolerated it. No matter what I did to push Y/N away, they insisted on loving me till the end, but why? And if they did love me so much why would they leave me like this?
The medic couldn't do anything. Y/N was long gone by the time I got there. So much wasted time and potential. I don't think I will marry again. Not for many years at least. Just when it is time for me to have heirs I will marry. Gives my future wife less time to escape. I have to marry someone cruel, someone whom I can never seem to care about, especially not love. Y/N's crippling kindness almost had me falling at the end and that was dangerous.
The funeral was lavish. My darling was beloved by the public. Many mourned for weeks. It was shocking. As much as I tried to not care, the energy of the house felt so different now. It was a wasteland of what once was. Dust collected in every nook and cranny. I stumbled into the house and stood still, letting the world spin around me for a moment when I tilted my head up and noticed something I hadn't seen before, paintings, hundreds of them. Y/N painted tons of things around the pillars and walls. They were beautiful. Ivy and roses, clouds and sunshine. I forgot how truly artistically talented Y/N was. My eyes followed how the ivy traveled around the pillars. Ivy was a great metaphor for Y/N, beautiful, and simple, but still a pest that will grow all over you if you aren't too careful.
"Sir, Welcome home. We have prepared dinner for you." the butler said, pulling me out of my trance.
"Thank you and can we get someone to repaint this room ASAP, I need some things removed.
-
The whole house ended up being repainted. I never noticed how many of those paintings were left. Even on the furniture, I couldn't escape any of my memories of Y/N anywhere. The notes were the absolute worst. Small pieces of paper everywhere with sweet nothings written on them. "Have a good day", "I love you", "Good morning to Panem's greatest leader" Nowhere was safe. Memories and images circled my brain constantly.
I sat at the table we used to eat at alone, drinking coffee from my mug while reading the newspaper. They still were on the front page. It's been a month since the incident. I sighed and folded the paper, placing it face down on the table. I reached for the mug when I saw it again. A painting of a lake with roses and ivy painted on the handle. The lake... the lake. The lake of District 12,
Lucy Gray
The roses,
My Mother
The Ivy...,
y/n
I shouted at the top of my lungs and threw the mug at the wall. When will I finally be free of the past pests that continue to haunt my life?
~
A/N: WHAT DID YOU GUYS THINK??? It is almost 5 AM and I stayed up all night writing this, I hope you guys liked it. let me know plz. Now accepting requests for new stories, perhaps with new characters :)))
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princesssmars · 10 months
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an ellabs x black!streamer!reader
some times your viewers expect you're in a relationship, and one time you spell it out clearly for them.
wc : 1.860
contains : reader is feminine ! the picture is more lightskin but all shades can read <333 ltlvc reference
a/n : coming up with chat usernames is so hard what the fawk??? but yeah while i ignore trolls the ones under these tags were pissing me off so i wrote this for my fellow black girlies <333 i hope u enjoy :)
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lets get one thing out of the way, you loved being a streamer. now that you had a good following of a few thousand regular watchers, you were more than financially stable, got to do something you enjoyed as a job, and even made a few new streaming friends.
but when it came to those friends, every content creator knew simple friendships could stir up drama. you had heard of many cases of friendships being strained or ruined because of this job. more specifically because of the fans.
which is why you took an oath to leave finer details like relationships out of your work. if you did tell a story about that time you and your friends nearly got kicked out of a local mall's journey's, you would keep descriptions of friends brief and blank, even resorting to calling people "friend number one, friend number two..."
luckily most of your fans were more than understanding that you wanted to keep some of your life private.
most of them.
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case one : the first p.o. box
it was another po box opening stream you decided to start early in the day, wanting to show and appreciate chat with the things they got for you.
lululemonsz : babe i hope its a new keyboard urs is on a iv drip !
wariolover96 : open it open the box OPEN IT
shelovedantee : damn is there a bomb in it hurry up
you laughed looking at all the people in chat begging you to open the current package in your hand.
"everybody chill out. look, im gonna open the first one now."
you quickly got a pair of scissors to cut off the packing tape on both ends, hurrying to pull the cardboard from its place.
the chat started speeding up when your mouth fell open in shock, slowly reaching in and pulling out the keyboard. it was sleek, mechanical, and your favorite color.
biiiigpoo : omg isnt that thing like $250?
lululemonsz : this as the first gift is CRAZY
ilovestardewmc1237 : one of your viewers is in love with you
you couldn't even respond, turning the keyboard over and back again to admire the details of it. out of the corner of your eye you spot a little yellow sticky note at the bottom, bringing it up to read it without letting the camera see. once you got to the end, your eyes widened and you quickly moved on to the next gifts.
but the light reflecting from your window and monitor was enough for chat to see a few letters on the note. after that, your fandom quickly began talking of a person named "A" who had not only the money to get you crazy expensive keyboards, but was also able to fluster you with a small note.
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case two : the search history.
every so often, your mods would host little events on your stream. these could include giveaways, shitty chat therapy, and little games for everyone to play. today it was a challenege : the more bits people donated, the crazier stuff you had to do for them. it was all pretty tame, and the end goal was one you didnt think you'd manage to hit.
never doubt the power of charisma and a pretty face, because after only three hours you manged to reach that two thousand dollar mark, and chat was raving at what you'd have to reveal next : your search history.
ariagatorr : damn this lowkey invasive 💀
devonchcgo22 : and we dont give a fuck
plantsnparsnip : right open that shit up
"i hate yall, do you know that? like genuinely." you groaned, slowly movied your mouse to open your chrome history.
there wasn't much for chat to bully you about thankfully, just some light teasing about how much you use pinterest and asking what it was you bought on etsy. and just when you thought you were done, someone had to open their big damn mouth.
pian0picass0 : wait a minute why did you open ellies stream THREE times ????
chat started moving faster as they read the comment, everyone asking you to open the stream and show them what was going on. sucking your teeth and denying them as you had shown them what they wanted!
after quickly wrapping up the stream and giving your thanks and goodbyes, a portion of viewers went on a manhunt for any ellie who was streaming at the moment.
once clicking on the stream, they found it was just a casual stream with ellie. she was obviously pretty, but was super laid-back in her jeans and converse as she strummed some songs on her guitar.
"oh hey, welcome to the stream i guess. any requests? i was gonna practice some radiohead because my friend asked for it."
pian0picass0 : hey ellie! do you know who (y/u) is by any chance?
"'sup casso. uhhhh no i dont think i do. did she send yall over here? maybe ill check her channel out."
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case three : the enhanced dm's
"everybody shut the fuck up and lets start this stupid thing."
this was it, one of your biggest streams of the year. and also the most fun. and most aggravating.
the gist was simple. you and 5 other streamers were thrown into a discord call and whoever lasted the longest through the sleep deprivation and challenges won a heap of cash.
what the hell was it with you getting screwed over by challenges?
it didn't seem that bad. the host, a close friend of yours, told you to share your screen so everyone could decide something to tweet from your twitter.
now, your friends in the call didn't notice what was on your screen when you shared it, and if they did they didn't say anything. but never doubt the perseverance of your crazy ass viewers, because one took the liberty to see exactly what you were saying in that split second they could see your dm's, because they swore they knew that profile picture...
abby : don't worry you'll do fine
abby : you're not gonna get embarrassed by any of the challenges
abby : i hope
y/n : seriously
abby : come onn you know i'm rooting for you &lt;3
y/n : aww thanks bee
abby : yup. for the whole event i'm gonna be your personal cheerleader ^3^
y/n : oooo you gonna put on a uniform for me?
abby : don't push it.
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case four : the voice chat slip up
at this point, there was no point in acting like you didn't know the two streamers.
the first was abby. mostly posted fitness, health, and lifestyle videos on youtube, but would occasionally go live on twitch to talk with her fans or stream herself working out at the gym.
(you may or may not have admitted live that you found her by watching a few of her workout streams. whoops.)
and then there was ellie, a gaming streamer who was known for being chill and quiet when playing music but as loud as a plane engine when playing cs:go. don't even get her started on cod.
but luckily you'd manage to convince her to play some games with you on your latest stream! some stardew, maybe some overcooked. even if she kept burning all of the damn food.
leave it to ellie williams to always surprise you, though.
when you hear the du-dum of the discord join noise, your face lights up and your mouth opens to greet ellie before she beats you to it.
"ok, babe, which game we playin first?"
to make a long story shot, your chat went ballistic and you gave a stern talking to the red head after the stream ended.
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case five : the instagram post
most of the time you leave most of your notifications off to avoid your phone sounding like a constant alarm. but you're guessing your recent endeavor of babysitting your cute but horrifically grabby nephew screwed you over, because before you know it the sound of dozens on instagram notifications are waking you up and pushing your bonnet from where it slipped down your eyes before unlocking your phone.
at first it seems like a normal picture abby posted, standing in front of a mirror in her living room , flexing her arm and covered in a thin sheen of sweat after an apparent workout session. ever the show off.
but when you zoomed into a blip of color in the background, your eyes almost pop out of your head when you see it.
its you and ellie, you sitting in her lap while she showed you some stupid meme on her phone she said reminded her of you.
the post was only thirty minutes old but already had a few thousand comments, the previes of 'OMG?????' and "no fucking way" giving you a hint to what people were thinking.
you turned off your phone, tossed it back on the nightstand and went back to sleep.
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case six : the joint stream
y/nsstan69 : not an unscheduled stream ??? is it judgement day ???
onlycuntz : "ft surprise guest" girl we aren't stupid
you had to hide the smile from appearing on your face as you read through the comments of your chat. you knew some of them were probably smart enough to know what was going on. the three of you hadn't really been discrete in the days following abby's slip up post, and viewers jumped at the chance to point you out in the background of some of her workout videos. and to point out how you were staring at her.
assholes.
so, here you sat in the comfort of your cute gaming chair ready to tell chat the big news with your special guest.
"so, i bet some of you are wondering why im streaming off schedule, but i had something big in my personal life that i wanted to tell you guys! in a few minutes my gest should be here..."
your voice trailed off as you kept your eye on chat, seeing a bunch of comments that you werent expecting from this big announcement.
motionpickers : lmaooooo are they serious
lululemonsz : she's gonna be so pissed
you begin to turn around in your chair when two pairs of lips press a kiss to each of your cheeks.
"you guys are so unserious."
"and you are so bad at hiding things." ellie pulls up and extra chair and rolls it up to yours so her knees touch yours. she tugs your hand into hers to sit on her lap, ignoring when you pinch her with your nails.
"ignore her. we could tell what you were doing and figured we should all do it together," abby is on your other side, resting her hip on the arm of your chair. "so, go ahead. it's pretty obvious already."
"wow, thanks for the support you guys."
"anytime, hun."
uhuhstasia : i literally cant tell whos luckier
niatargaryen : IS ANYBODY ELSE FREAKNG OUT
ilovestardewmc1237 : is it appropiate to say i called this
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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 7 months
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Imagine Being Loved By Me
Pairing: Billy Washington (Trigger Point) x f!reader Warnings: Self deprecation, alcohol, mild angst, semi public smut, oral sex (m receiving) Word count: ~3.2k
Summary: Loose lips sink ships - a drunken night at the pub proves catastrophic for the secret fling she's been having with her best mate's brother. Based on this request.
Author's note: I don't have a tag list. Please follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications. Community labels are for cops.
She lays cocooned on the sofa, enveloped in the soft warmth of fluffy throw blankets. The sounds of an episode of Eastenders playing on the TV fill the small space of her living room, yet her attention is focused solely on her phone, cradled in her palm as her thumb hovers over the screen.
“Come to the pub, not seen you for ages.” Reads the text message from her best mate, Lana.
It’s true, she has seen less of Lana over the last couple of months, the sole cause of that is due to Lana’s younger brother, Billy. She had never meant for it to happen. 
After Billy had been pulled from his car in Cranstead Gardens, only for it to blow up mere moments later - a bomb planted by a right wing group called The Crusaders, attempting to frame Billy for an attack on anti-fascist protestors, Billy had been in a bad way. Already plagued by struggles of self worth and identity, he was now traumatised on top of it.
Supporting Billy through all of it had taken a toll on Lana. She’d taken time off work to care for her younger brother, making sure he went to his therapy sessions, sitting up with him when his night terrors got too much for him to bear, making sure he ate and took care of himself.
She’d seen how tired Lana was becoming, the dark circles under her eyes growing more prominent every time she saw her. Spending so much time looking after Billy, she was forgetting to look after herself. Stepping in, she’d lended her own support, wanting to ease the burden on her best friend.
Countless cups of tea were made by her, she’d cooked massive pasta bakes and pots of chilli, ensuring that both Lana and Billy had dinner every day. In her bid to support her friend, she’d unwittingly become part of her brother’s life too.
It was an afternoon a week after Lana had gone back to work, she’d continued to pop round to Billy’s each day as a favour to her, just to check in on him and make sure he wasn’t letting the flat get in too much of a state.
They had been standing side by side in the kitchen, her rolling a cigarette for both of them, while Billy made tea. Their fingers had brushed as he’d passed her mug with one hand, while taking his rollie from her with the other, and for the briefest of moments their eyes had locked.
She felt as though time had stood still as she stared into his big blue eyes, and suddenly tea and cigarettes were forgotten as their lips met in a frenzied rush of passion. He’d pushed her back against the kitchen side and she’d giggled against his lips as they’d sent empty beer cans and dirty cutlery clattering to the floor.
In response, he’d lifted her, her legs wrapping around his waist as he’d carried her to the bedroom. His breath had been heavy against her neck as he’d rutted hard into her against the rumpled bed sheets, while she’d stroked her fingers through his tousled sandy hair and whispered to him how good he was making her feel.
They’d laid there breathlessly afterwards and he’d made her swear not to tell Lana. It had made sense to her at the time, she’d thought it was a one off, and Lana would probably find it weird that her best friend and her younger brother had slept together.
But then it kept happening, and as time went on it felt more like a relationship than casual hooking up. Yet Billy continued to insist they kept it quiet, so she had, despite it seeming odd to her that they’d make a secret of something that clearly both made them happy.
And Billy did make her happy - most of the time. When things were good, they were really good; they’d spoon on his threadbare sofa, his laughter ruffling her hair as they watched reruns of The Simpsons. His large hand would always find its way up her top, wrapping around the dip in her waist, anchoring her to him.
When things were bad, they were awful. It would often happen after Billy’s weekly visits to the JobCentre to sign on, he’d come back petulant, closed off, in a place that was so far into his own mind that she couldn’t reach him. He’d lash out with angry words, filled with spite and vitriol if she tried to push him to open up, so she’d learned to retreat, to let him come to her.
Usually a day later, he’d reach back out and apologise, and things would be good again. Yet this time, a week had passed since she’d left Billy to his own devices and he hadn’t spoken to her at all.
She clicks away from Lana’s text, and onto her thread with her younger brother, faced with a stream of her own unanswered messages. 
Fuck him.
If he doesn’t want to talk to her then perhaps her Friday night is better spent at the pub. She fires off a quick message to Lana, telling her she’ll be there in an hour before showering and getting herself ready.
The pavement is slick underfoot as she walks from her flat. It’s rained recently, and the smell of it hangs thick in the air, along with a brisk chill that causes her to pull her leather jacket tighter around herself, wishing she’d put on something warmer.
She pushes through the heavy barrier of the pub door, leaving behind the cold air, the smell of rain and the steady hum of traffic, for stifling warmth, the cloying scent of beer and raucous laughter.
Smiling when she spots Lana at a table in the corner, flanked by her mate and fellow EXPO, John, she heads over, taking a seat next to Lana and shrugs out of her jacket.
“Alright, stranger?” Lana looks warmly at her, eyes filled with familiar affection, “Mick’s just getting a round in.”
Her smile falters, stomach churning with disgust at the mention of Mick. He’s ex-military, a mutual friend of Joel and Lana. Since Joel had passed away in the Westhaven Estate bombing, he had latched onto Lana, and it made her skin crawl. She hated his arrogance and the way he always leered at her, he took cheap shots at Billy’s expense whenever he was around, despite repeatedly being told to stop.
“Great,” she says, the dullness of her tone not matching the enthusiasm of the word.
Before Lana can respond, Mick makes his way back over, four full pint glasses clutched tightly in his hands. He sets them down on the table, the motion sending lager foam dripping over the edges and onto the wood beneath.
“Lana mentioned you’d be dropping in,” Mick says, sliding a glass across to her, a trail of moisture spreading across the tabletop in its wake, “so I got you a pint.”
“Thanks,” she says with a tight smile, lifting the glass to her lips and taking a deep sip, focusing on how the bitter bubbles fizz against her tongue.
“Any time, gorgeous,” he fires back with a wink, and she grimaces, feeling as though she’ll bring the beer back up that she’s just swallowed.
She’s grateful when he takes a seat next to John and the two fall into conversation, leaving her and Lana to catch up. They talk about work and Lana’s excitement over Thom finally asking her to move in with him. It’s nice to be around her best friend again, how easily they slot back into place as though no time has passed. She feels guilty for not having made more time for Lana, being secretly kept preoccupied by Billy.
As if on cue, her phone buzzes and she pulls it out of her bag, seeing a text from him flash up on the screen. “were r u??”
She sighs, realising he’s likely turned up at her flat and seen she’s not home. It’s tempting to ignore him, considering he’s left her hanging for the last week, but she knows Billy, knows what he’s like, he’ll spiral if he doesn’t hear from her.
“At the pub.” She replies, then sends “With your sister.” as an afterthought, hoping it will deter him from turning up.
Putting her phone away, she continues drinking her pint and chatting with Lana, until Lana’s eyes move towards the door, brows raising in surprise.
“Here comes trouble,” she says, before taking a drink.
She turns, heart sinking as she sees Billy making his way unsteadily towards their table. His eyes are glazed, a pinkish hue is dusted across the bridge of his nose and cheekbones, the telltale signs he’s been drinking.
Mick looks up, raising his pint in greeting. “Billy! I’d offer you a drink, but I’ve not long gotten a round in. You can afford to get your own, right?”
“Mick, leave it,” Lana grits out, eyes narrowed.
“Sit down, Billy,” she says gently, pulling out the seat next to hers, “I’ll get you one.”
“I don’t need you!” He snaps, nostrils flaring and brow furrowing.
She flinches back, feeling her throat tighten, lowering her gaze to hide the hurt she feels.
Billy softens, shoulders sagging with shame, averting his own eyes. “Don’t need you to get me a drink,” he says quietly, “can get my own.”
She watches him weave through the crowded pub towards the bar, anxiety forming a pit within her stomach.
“Fuck’s sake,” she hears Lana mutter under her breath, turning to her. “I’m so sorry, had no idea he’d turn up.”
I did, she thinks to herself, but offers her friend a reassuring smile. “It’s alright, I don’t mind.”
Billy’s pint is already half drunk by the time he makes his way back to their table. He sets the glass heavily down on its surface, before slumping in the seat next to hers, fingers fidgeting with a beer mat.
“Still not working then, Billy?” Mick asks and she has to fight the urge to tell him to shut up, her grip tightening around the condensation coated outside of her pint glass.
“Starting an apprenticeship in two weeks, actually,” he says, shooting him a sideways glance, fingers continuing to spin the beer mat.
What? Why hadn’t he told her?
Her eyes widen in surprise, mouth opening to ask about it, closing it again upon realising it’s not her place, not publicly anyway. Thankfully, Lana is quick to step in.
“That’s brilliant news! Doing what?”
“Car mechanics,” Billy says. “Bloke at the JobCentre sorted me out with it, I start in two weeks.”
“Wow,” Lana says with a genuine smile, “I’m dead pleased for you, mate, know how much you enjoyed doing up your old Vauxhall.”
Billy nods, tapping the edge of the beer mat against the table, not looking directly at anyone. “Yeah, should hopefully have a job by the end of it.”
She takes a mouthful of lager, swirling it over her tongue, trying to distract herself from the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. She’s pleased for Billy, it would be cruel not to be, but she can’t deny the hurt she feels that this isn’t something he felt was worth sharing with her.
“Let’s hope this sticks, eh, mate?” Mick says with a smirk.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Billy asks with a scowl.
Mick shrugs casually. “Seems like a good opportunity, would hate to see it go the same way as all your attempts to join the army.”
“Let’s keep it friendly, shall we?” John says uncomfortably, but is ignored by Mick.
“I’m just saying,” he continues, “hope another group of terrorists doesn’t come along and distract him. They teach you how to look for bombs while you’re fixing up the cars at this apprenticeship?”
“I said enough!” Lana shouts, slamming her pint glass down, eyes wide with fury.
The pub goes eerily silent, the Oasis song that’s playing on the jukebox and the scrape of Billy’s chair legs on the flagstone flooring are the only audible sounds as he stands abruptly, tossing the beer mat he’d been fiddling with onto the table.
“Going out for a fag,” he says sullenly, the chatter of surrounding tables gradually becoming louder as the shock of the sudden outburst wears of.
Billy walks out of the pub, head bowed, and she watches him go, her heart aching for him.
“Erm…think I’ll join him, actually,” she tells Lana, turning towards her, “could do with a smoke anyway. I’ll see if he’s alright.”
“Appreciate that, thank you,” Lana says, giving her hand a squeeze. “Think Mick and I need to have a little chat anyway,” her tone is suddenly stern, her gaze dark as she turns to face the man opposite her.
She nods, slipping her jacket back on and heads outside.
The shock of the cold night air hitting her skin causes her to draw in a sharp breath. It’s still damp outside and she worries that Billy might have gone home when she can’t immediately see him. It’s not until she walks along the road a short distance that she spots the glow of the end of a lit cigarette down an alleyway, the reddish hue dully illuminating Billy’s sharp features.
Wrapping her arms around herself, she walks towards him. “You should ignore Mick,” she says softly, standing in front of him, “he doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”
Billy exhales a plume of smoke, a hint of a sneer on his face as he draws his head back, staring at her through narrowed eyes. “Seems like he had the right of it to me. I’m a fuck up and almost got myself killed because of it.”
“You’re not, Billy,” she reassures him, “you were in a bad place. Those scumbags took advantage. Mick only takes the piss because he knows if he was in your position he wouldn’t be able to handle it.”
He sniffs, scowling slightly as he takes another drag, and she shifts from foot to foot, anxiously waiting for him to say something, anything.
She sighs when it becomes apparent he won’t, silently exhaling smoke, his brooding silence too much for her to bear. “Why didn’t you tell me about the apprenticeship?” 
Billy swallows thickly, staring down at his trainers. “I was gonna, but then…then Becky text me.”
“Oh,” is all she’s able to get out, her skin growing heated despite how cold it is, as her heart lurches with painful jealousy.
She takes an involuntary step back, but Billy is quick to advance towards her, his free hand reaching for her. “No, not like that!” He says hastily. “I dunno what she wanted, actually. Messaged to ask how I was and I told her I was with you and not to contact me again.”
Her stomach flutters at his words.
Told her I was with you.
She can’t help the smile that tugs at the corners of her mouth. “And then what?”
“Then she said it wouldn’t last, she couldn’t imagine why someone like you would wanna be with someone like me.”
“And you believed her?”
He chucks his cigarette butt on the ground, crushing it underfoot. “I followed my therapist’s advice; cut ties with people who force you to question your self worth - blocked her number.”
Pride swells in her chest at his words and she reaches for his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
“But it got me thinking,” he continues, “you deserve better than a few secret shags with your best mate’s waster brother.”
Her brow furrows, sadness making her feel heavy. “Is that why you’ve avoided me all week?”
Billy nods. “Yeah, just sorta wondered what the point of it all is, we have to keep it a secret anyway, and I’m just gonna fuck it up, same as I’ll do with this apprenticeship.”
She reaches up, cupping his face, fingers stroking over the scruff of his jawline, which is in desperate need of a shave. “Billy, it was your decision to keep us a secret. I’d tell everyone, given the choice. I’m not ashamed to be with you.”
His hands grasp her wrists, thumbs stroking the soft skin on the undersides. “Really?” He asks, his voice barely a whisper as he looks at her hopefully.
Leaning up, she kisses his lips, quick and chaste. “Really. Billy, you’re so good,” she leans up again, pressing her mouth to his more firmly, for longer, savouring the feeling of him kissing her back.
“So good to me,” she whispers, trailing her lips along his jaw and over his neck, smiling as she feels him shudder, his long fingers threading themselves into her hair.
“I’m so proud to be with you,” she tells him, sucking at his pulsepoint, earning a groan, which she feels the rumble of through his chest.
She reaches down, palming him through his jogging bottoms, feeling the rapid hardening of his cock through the cotton. “You’re gonna do so well at your apprenticeship, show everyone else just how good you are.”
His jaw goes slack, his grip on her hair tightening as he pulls her in for another kiss. It’s deep and heated, his breathing rapid as he tongue works against hers. He tastes of tobacco and Carling, yet to her there has never been anything more addictive.
Pulling away, his hands slip from her hair as she drops to her knees in front of him, not caring how the dampness of the concrete soaks into the material of her jeans.
“What are you doing?” Billy asks, lips parted in shock as he watches her tug at the waistband of his joggers and boxers, pulling them down just enough to free his erection. “Someone could see!”
“Then let them see, Billy,” she whispers huskily, eyes flitting up momentarily to meet the ocean blue wideness of his. “I told you I’m not ashamed to be with you.”
She licks the flushed pink tip of him, humming appreciatively at the sharp taste, grinning to herself as Billy hisses through his teeth, eyes screwed shut.
“Tastes so good,” she coos up at him, reveling in the sigh of the rapid rise and fall of his chest and the way he twitches against her palm.
Opening her mouth, she envelopes the length of him in its wet warmth, hollowing her cheeks as she bobs her head back and forth.
“Oh…fuck!” Billy all but chokes out, and she moans around him, speeding up her movements, pulling back each time the head of him knocks the back of her throat, stroking her hand up and down the base in tandem.
It is risky to do this so publicly, and yet it adds to the thrill; on her knees in a darkened alleyway for her man, showing him exactly what he’s worth, what he means to her. 
Her core throbs with arousal, her movements becoming sloppy as Billy cups the back of her head, muscles tensing and his breathing becoming ragged. She can feel the tang of pre-cum against her tongue and knows he won’t last much longer.
She whines when he grips her hair, pulling her off of him and dragging his trousers back up.
“Why’d you do that? You were about to cum,” she huffs, rising to her feet.
“Exactly,” he says with a shrug, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, and guiding her out of the alley. “Wanna be inside you when I do that though, and I’d much rather be back at my girlfriend’s place to do that than down a fucking alley.”
She grins, wrapping an arm around his waist as they walk home.
Girlfriend.
She likes the sound of that.
373 notes · View notes
lemonyko0 · 7 months
Text
wear you out
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☕︎ no amount of warm baths and hot tea can lure you into sleep, but jungkook knows just the thing.
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⇀ genre: fluff, smut, established relationship, THIS IS A CONTINUATION/ SAME COUPLE FROM ALL TIED UP i promised and i have now delivered enjoy
⇀ description: blindfold and tied hands :), oral (f rec)
⇀ wc: 2.2k
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you think you’ve done all you can to fall asleep, taking one last glance at the alarm clock before falling dramatically back onto your bed. it's barely two in the morning, and you’ve tried everything. hot tea, cookies, melatonin, even a nice warm bath and a change into your favorite silk pajamas, but nothing.
you stare blankly at your ceiling until your phone begins to vibrate in your hand, as always, your knight in shining armor.
you answer the phone with an exasperated “hi.” and he chuckles from the other line.
“hello pretty. still not asleep?”
“i texted you four minutes ago koo.”
“what, that wasn't enough time for you to fall asleep? the bath really didn't work?”
“not even a little.” you hear him hum and tsk, listening closely to the sound of what is certainly his gaming chair as he does circles in it. you knew he’d be awake. you consider his computer a third party in your relationship sometimes.
“okay, it's decided then. see you in ten.”
“jungkook-”
“i love you bye!” he doesn't let you talk him out of it or whine about having already told him no (his appearance was of course his first suggestion above all else). you didn't want him leaving his house so late at night just for you. certainly has nothing to do with it being so damn hard to leave him in the morning either. but nonetheless he’s welcoming himself into your home in record time.
“you redecorated.” he quips, glancing around your living room as he takes off his boots one at a time. you wrap your arms around yourself the closer you get to him, having let all of the cold air in right along with him.
he doesn't stare at your earth toned plush pumpkins and your ghost throw pillows once you come close enough, taking you in from head to toe and landing on your chest.
you furrow your brows, “you can't stare at my boobs before even saying hi to me.”
his eyes flash back to yours and he kicks off his final boot before wrapping his arms around you and swaying you around.
“who? me? staring? never.” he places kisses atop your head and giggles, “i only look respectfully.”
you place your hands on his chest and push him away, “yeah whatever.” but he doesn't let you go too far, hanging onto your hand and pulling you back towards him with a grin, bringing his other hand to your jaw and staring at you. you thought he was going to kiss you, but now you know his mission is to make you flustered.
and fuck him because it works every time.
you wrap your hands around his neck and pull him in for a kiss, more than two years with him and you’re still surprised every day by how good of a kisser he is, making it damn-near impossible to ever pull away from him. little do you know, that’s always his goal.
finally you lose breath and rest your forehead against his, and he smiles at you. “so what do you wanna do chicky? watch a movie and cuddle?”
you shake your head, you’ve already watched two today and you’ve been on a movie kick recently, it wouldn't work. “you'd fall asleep before i would.” jungkook always has a way of snoozing during movies, especially if you're in his vicinity. you usually find it endearing how he’s out like a light, you enjoy being a source of comfort for him. you just envy that part of him so badly right now.
he follows you quietly to your bedroom that wafts with an array of bakery scents between your body soap, bath bomb, and the candle you lit. even the lights are mostly dimmed in an attempt to change the scenery to lull you into slumber, didn't work either clearly.
“god this room could put army men to sleep.” he chuckles, gently stroking your arm as he joins you on your bed.
“if only.”
he hums, “i think your problem is you can't relax.”
you scoff, “yeah tell me about it.”
he grins and noses your neck, “so…” his hands ghost from your arms to your waist, and hips, “let me help you relax.”
he places gentle kisses on your neck and you decide there are worse ideas than letting your boyfriend wear you out. in fact, it's probably the best idea anyone’s had all night.
“what a great idea.” you coo, leaning into his chest and guiding his hands up to yours, remembering how intently he eyed them earlier when the cold air must've perked them up, very obvious in a satin tank top.
“i have other ideas too, don't you worry.” he runs his fingers against your chest, catching your nipples between his finger tips and squeezing them just enough, even letting a satisfied hum past his own lips at the sight of you.
he reluctantly moves to lay you down against your sheets, pressing his lips to yours briefly before disappearing into your closet.
“what are you grabbing?” there's a plethora of things in the closet you admit, but most of the fun stuff is at his house, not yours.
“close your eyes, and relax.”
you oblige him in actions but not so much in words, “hard to relax when i don't know what you’re doing.”
“i'll tell you. sit up.” you lift yourself onto your legs again and you can feel him near you before you feel a silk tie against your eyes and you laugh.
“this is your idea?”
he hums quietly, diligently working to secure it and asking if you want your wrists too. “you had your turn, remember? you never let me have mine.”
“you’ve never asked.” you let a breath escape your lips and you smile for him, “do whatever you want, koo.”
he chuckles quietly and directs you to lay back down.
“i'll leave your hands free for now.”
“for now.” you repeat, he doesn't correct you.
you feel his hands trail from your torso to your thighs, squeezing them intently before peeling off your shorts and opening your legs for him.
he lets out a content sigh and a curse, poking at your entrance and drawing little circles against your clit and letting his fingers slide down to tease your hole through the fabric.
you whine and move your hips against his hand, indicative of wanting more from him but he doesn't let you have it that easy. he spends more time against your front, pulling your panties up to make you jerk your hips involuntary and letting you go to draw more circles against you in varying degrees of pressure. the pattern is new and driving you insane, you want nothing more than to come around something but he hasn't even stripped you bare and seems keen on avoiding that for as long as he can.
you give him the satisfaction of letting him hear how bad you want him, “please koo.”
he gently bites the inside of your thigh and grips the other to keep you still, “please what? won't you come like this?”
you nodded and whined as he continues his work, marveling at the growing wet spot on your pretty panties. “then do it baby, come like this.”
it's a damned mix really, him knowing you and your body so well and your senses feel heightened with the blindfold. it's not like you would've held out for much longer anyway, soon enough his fingers send you back into your mattress with a satisfied moan just for him.
once you’ve relaxed your legs he removes his hand, hooking them around your underwear and peeling them off your legs.
“so pretty.” you hear him breathe, pulling your knees together and pinning them against your chest, “keep them here.”
you nod easily, “okay.”
he chuckles, “good girl. always so good for me.” a much needed compliment to distract you from his tongue against you, making you mewl and ache to reach for his hair but can't due to the position he specifically put you in. fuck did he make the right call, as soon as he works a finger inside of you, you immediately arch your back and cuss. he drowns out a laugh against your clit, eating you out like a michelin meal that deserved to be savored and you hate how good he is at it sometimes because you never last as long as you should.
certainly not when he’s two fingers deep and hooking them inside of you to open up your walls and you curl your toes at the idea he might be prepping you for more and you can't help but call out his name, he deserves to have it plastered on your bedroom walls and inked into your skin with the way you recite it like a mantra.
he responds to your calling with a moan against your clit and that has you coming for a second time soon after. finally having to pull him away from you with a tug of his hair and a plead from your lips.
“sorry. you're so pretty when you come.”
you chuckle and reach out for him, hands hitting the fabric of his shirt and you pout, “off.”
he laughs, “gladly.” followed by the sound of all of his clothes hitting the ground. “you're next pretty.”
you grin and raise your arms for him, grabbing the ends of your shirt and tugging it easily over your head without so much as nudging your blindfold. “you want more or are you tired now?”
you reach for his neck and pull him towards you until your foreheads meet, “want you inside of me.”
he grins and kisses you passionately until you’re falling back onto the bed, kneading your chest and kissing down your neck so you can moan in his ear, one of his self-declared favorite parts of sex. he taps your hips and tells you, “flip around, on your knees.”
you hum excitedly, he's hit everything on the list of ways to absolutely exhaust you and this position tops the list.
once you’re on your knees and elbows you hear him chuckle, “arms behind your back.”
you cuss and do as asked, letting him tie your wrists together and run his heavy cock along your slit, “fuck you are so wet for me.”
you barely nodded, “want you so bad, please.”
there's nothing jungkook wouldn't do for that pretty word when it slips off your tongue and into his ears. he buries himself inside you to the hilt, hitting it so good from this position and wasting no time establishing a heavy rhythm that has you writhing into the fresh sheets.
he curses and moves his hand from your waist to your wrists, pulling you back against him with more force, “god, you're made for me y/n.” he groans and lets you have it, the name of the game is to tire you out after-all and he's taking it very seriously, pushing you further into the bed with each thrust but it feels so good you don't notice or care at all. any pain is means to an end that'll feel like heaven on earth you're damn-sure. he reaches over to your front and you almost scream from the sensitivity, “fuck, jungkook, mm-too much.”
he doesn't relent and it's deliciously overwhelming to a point where you can't think of anything else except for him and his hands and his dick ravishing you and he groans, “you can take it.” he wants you to, he wants you to come so hard around his cock he sees stars and you know he deserves it and more and he knows exactly what you need to get you there, holding you tightly against him as you come all over him, wetting his thighs and with a new grip on your hips he keeps his pace as best he can until he finishes on your back, just as fucked out as you are.
he crashes beside you for a second and you try your best to relax but in your position, it's not easy. “koo please.” he hums and you feel the bed move beside you. he unties your wrists first and as he cleans your back you remove your blindfold and run a finger through your hair. you sit up with a sigh and look at him. “i'm gonna have to take another bath.”
he nods slowly, “shower,” he begins to grin, “together?”
you sigh and roll your eyes, throwing your legs off the bed and making your way to the bathroom. “baby,” he calls out to you, “you don't have to-” he stops as soon as he hears the shower water begin to run and instead rushes to grab clean clothes from your wardrobe for both of you, setting them down on the counter as his hands wrap around your waist, kissing your cheek over and over again as he recites the words, “i love you.”
you unwrap his hands and after a half an hour of co-showering you’re knocked out in his arms as he mindlessly runs his fingers through your hair.
* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚
thank u for reading and happy kinktober sluts! check out some of my other nsfw while ur down here ;)
masterlist | taglist
taglist: @marvelahsobx @fragmentof-indifference @notbotheredtho @jwnghyuns @isab3lita @kooookie @jeonzll @laylasbunbunny @instabull @xjiminsthighsx @iceykoo @ash07128 @fandems
256 notes · View notes
shina913 · 7 months
Text
Nothing | JHS
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Pairing: Hoseok x Fem!Reader
Rating: PG-15; SFW
Genre: Established relationship; domestic AU; angst; fluff
Warnings: Some cussing; OC has a massive mood swing; arguing/bickering; Hobi makes a savage comment
Word count: 1.2k words
Summary: You and Hobi try to make dinner until you start bickering.
A/N: I miss Hobi 🥰 Thank you @midnightagust for your eyes!
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"No, they're not doing it like that in the video. We should score the skin like he does here," you say, holding the kitchen knife at an angle just above the pork.
Hoseok disagrees. "Just poking the fork through the skin is enough. It pushes out the fat but keeps the meat juicy. If you slice through the skin, it might get dry."
You're debating how to prepare a slab of pork belly. You came across a video about it by chance and were excited to try out the recipe. Making it at home has always been something you wanted to do, and the video made it seem simple enough.
What you didn't expect was Hoseok questioning a crucial method, despite never having made the dish himself.
You shake your head, wanting to stick to the original poster's method. "Yeah, but this dude uses the same oven as us. If we just poke the skin, the fat won't render quickly and it'll take forever for it to get crispy. At that rate, we might as well have it for breakfast!"
You prepare to sink your knife into the skin but stop when he makes another remark.
“Well, that’s how my mom does it and it always comes out great.”
You love his mom and she loves you, but in that particular moment, something about his comment irked you. It made you question your cooking skills.
“Then maybe you should just ask your mom to make it for you tonight,” you snap, feeling a mix of frustration and insecurity. You throw the knife into the sink, hoping to release some of the built-up tension. The clanging sound of metal on metal rings through the room and Hoseok’s brows furrow in confusion.
“Are you okay? Did I say something wrong?”
You scrub your hands over the sink—a little too aggressively—to get the remnants of raw meat off them. “I’m fine!”
“All I’m trying to say is that we shouldn’t ruin the meat.”
“Right! Because that’s clearly my goal, to ruin the meat!” You wipe your hands on a dish towel just as violently and toss it onto the counter.
His mouth falls open at your actions. You rarely fight, but when you do, he’s not one to go full-out, guns blazing. Oh no... He goes for the sneak attack.
Subtly, he shifts his weight, jutting his hip out giving the outward impression that he’s still relaxed. Then, he drops the bomb. “I didn’t realize we were having your attitude for dinner, too.”
You suck in a sharp breath. You’ve been together for years and know which buttons to avoid and which ones to push—hard.
The tension in the room reaches its peak as you bicker and argue back and forth. Your voices escalate, overlapping with each other's as you try to make your points heard. The frustration is palpable, and you can sense the anger bubbling up within you.
You wave your hands in mid-air. "Okay, I’m done! I don't want to talk about this anymore!" You can feel yourself getting angrier and you don't want to say anything you would regret in the heat of the moment.
He bites down on his lips, realizing that he’d been acting like a dick throughout the whole process. His voice softens and he attempts to explain. "Babe, I didn’t mean to piss you off with my mom-comment. I just thought–"
"Nope!” You interject as you’ve had enough. “I said I’m done with this conversation now," you declare and march toward the bedroom.
As your words hang in the air, he feels the weight of his actions and wants to make amends. "Baby, wait. Please, can we work this out? I'm sorry," his voice now filled with regret as he chases after you down the hallway.
“Can we please hug it out so I know that we’re okay?” He asks while you both stand at the door’s threshold. Hoseok knows that touch is your love language. But in your current state of mind, the idea of him holding you feels repulsive.
"No! I need space," you recoil before shutting the door in his face.
He closes his eyes tightly, realizing that trying to reason with you at this moment is pointless. He walks back to the kitchen to clean up and then collapses onto the couch. Sinking his head into the cushions, he lets out a deep sigh.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, taking deep breaths to calm down your racing heartbeat, you groan and shed tears out of frustration... maybe even from overreaction or PMS. You know the anger will fade away, giving you the chance to have a decent conversation with him. But for now, you need some time alone to gather your thoughts.
******
You didn't realize it, but you cried yourself sleep. When you wake up, it's still dark outside. You look at your phone to check the time, and then turn to see Hoseok sleeping on the bed, curled up facing you.
Seeing him resting on top of the sheets and keeping a safe distance from you shows that he still respected your boundaries. It tugs at your heartstrings.
Your face softens, and your finger brushes his cheek. He stirs at your touch and rubs his eyes, gradually waking up. Realizing that he had been asleep on the bed longer than intended, panic immediately sets in.
"Shit, I'm sorry! I know you wanted some space...I set an alarm…” he babbles. “Sorry, I’ll get out."
"No,” you stop him and offer a warm smile. “It's okay."
He really tried to sleep on the couch, but the guilt from your argument kept him tossing and turning. He crept into the room, hoping to settle things with you, but realizing that you were already asleep, he eventually fell asleep himself.
You give a little nod and seeing him in this state, you decide to make things right.
“I apolo—”
“I’m sorry—”
It appears that he had the same thing in mind. He nods and yields to you.
"I’m sorry for snapping at you earlier."
Hoseok visibly relaxes and sits up. "And I'm sorry for saying stupid things to you. I’m sorry for hurting your feelings.”
"I got too caught up, too. I think it was a combination of being hungry and tired,” you grimace. “Not that those are valid excuses.”
"Yeah, me too," he chuckles. “I’m sorry I was acting like a know-it-all earlier. And I didn’t mean to compare you to my mom. I love your cooking.”
“Thank you, I appreciate that.” You smile and gaze at him affectionately. After settling blowups like this, you find yourself craving his touch.
"Do you think I can still get that hug?" You ask meekly.
His lips curl into that slow, irresistible smile that you adore so much. "Always."
You climb onto him slowly, placing one leg on each side, and then fall into his waiting arms. You nuzzle into his neck, feeling him kiss your hair in return. You sigh against his skin, relieved to put this argument behind you.
"I'm sorry for being a moody bitch when I’m hungry."
He chuckles and tightens his arms even more. “If I get koala hugs like this in return, I’ll make sure you’re fed all the time."
"I am kinda hungry, though," you say, realizing that you both skipped dinner.
He throws his head back in laughter. "It's 3:30 AM and all the takeout places are closed. The only options are Oreos or instant ramyeon."
Even though both of those options sound good, you remember the dish you were planning to make before your argument escalated. You move away from him and say, "I can still cook the pork belly.”
"Are you sure? It could take forever," he asks.
"It's not like we have anywhere to be tomorrow," you shrug.
He cups your cheek in his hand and kisses you softly. "Okay. I'll make the rice."
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Nothing Masterlist | Main Fic Masterlist
You’ve reached the end! Thank you so much for reading!
If you loved it, please comment, reblog, or send me feedback! 📩. I love hearing from readers! If you didn’t like it so much, I would still like to hear about it. Help me become a better writer! 💜
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Tagging: @roaminginthenights @yoongukie-ff
120 notes · View notes
m-y-fandoms · 1 year
Text
(NEW!) Super Danganronpa 2 boys reaction to: their S/O thinking they were going to hurt them - COMMISSION
You feral beasts have been asking for this for like two years LMAO. Someone finally commissioned me to do it so let's get it!
V3 boys version link
The reader's pronouns are never mentioned, so anyone can read this with themselves in mind!
Word Count:  13k words!! 4.8k of those words are Nagito's section alone, as the commissioner requested for Nagito's to be longer than the rest (Please show this some love my hands hurt)
Trope/Scenario: A couple is in an argument or stressful situation. One partner moves suddenly, maybe to ruffle their hair or wipe sweat from their face, maybe grab something or gesture as they yell, but their S/O cowers/flinches at the sudden movement, and braces themselves or cries out, thinking their partner was about to hit/hurt them. Then, the angst ends in fluff with the other partner expressing that they would never hurt their beloved. I will make variations to this base concept to spice up the piece and fit the characters because we DON'T do O.O.C. here!
WARNINGS: SPOILERS FOR ALL OF SDR2/SDR2 CONTEXT NEEDED TO UNDERSTAND SOME SECTIONS - additionally, SFW sexual content-wise, but mature themes are explored like explicit language, possessiveness, abuse, and unhealthy relationships. Remember, the games themselves are rated M.
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Nagito Komaeda
It all happened so fast. You’d begged them not to do it. It didn’t need to go down that way. This never would’ve happened if they’d just listened to you.
It all happened so fast. One second your friends, your best and only friends, were piling onto your boyfriend, pinning him to the ground of the hotel lobby and the next, the world became an explosion of fiery red. A loud blast rang in your ears like a flash bomb or a gunshot fired off right beside your head without protective equipment. Kazuichi went flying, the back of Akane’s clothes were aflame. Fuyuhiko took on an expression you’d never thought you’d see from the resident tough guy of the group: eyes wide in genuine terror, mouth agape as he dove forward and away from the blast.
You begged them not to do this. Don’t corner him. Don’t force his hand. You knew him better than anyone else. And they didn’t listen to you.
You’d all grouped up before hand (minus Nagito of course) to discuss what to do about him. He was getting more and more unhinged as the days went on. Before the funhouse, everyone except for you saw him as a bit crazy, a nuisance, a freak but safe at a distance. Now… he was clearly a danger to himself and others. He knew something you all didn’t, and it was sending him into the self righteous hope power trip of the century. Something was so very different from the Nagito you knew and loved.
You’d warned them that it wouldn’t be like last time. He wouldn’t submissively let them tie him up in the old building and wait to be fed or released by Monomi. He was on the warpath now. You knew him. Once he got an idea in his head, that was it.
Fuyuhiko and Kazuichi had dismissed you immediately. You loved him. You’d do anything to protect that freak. They weren’t gonna heed your warning, because at the end of the day, you cared about him just a little more than you cared about the rest of them. Hajime and Sonia, even Chiaki - the more compassionate members of the group - had looked at you with pity in their eyes. They knew the last thing you wanted was to see your boyfriend tied up or hurt, and they felt for you, but at this point, the main focus had to be figuring out who put them on this island so they could escape, and preventing more death. Nagito was getting in the way of that. He needed to be restrained.
You never thought it would be like this, though. You knew he’d retaliate this time, that he’d resist, but maybe in the form of a struggle with his attacker: a punch, a kick, running away, hiding… not a fucking bomb.
As the explosion rang out from behind you, sending you leaping forward defensively, the world seemed to move in slow motion.
How could he do this? It’s one thing to fight off those who are actively trying to subdue you, but to blow up the entire hotel? He was really willing to hurt or even kill everyone too close to the blast, even those with little to nothing to do with the plan? What about you, who he claimed to love, who was his shining hope, who had been the only one in his corner at all times? He was willing to just blow you away as well?
Time sped up again, and you sat with your legs crossed in the rubble, ash and sweat smearing your skin. You just sat there, breaths hitching in your throat as you held back tears that threatened to fall. It felt like you were in a trance as you sat and thought this all over. Nevermind the flames at your back or smoke in the air. Why, why, why???
It wasn’t the little bit of blood running down your arm or the ringing in your ears that broke through your haze, but the clap of a hand on your shoulder blade. You turned and looked up at Hajime, dust in his hair and a cut on his cheek. The white uniform shirt he always wore was stained up and torn in one area.
“Hey, (Y-Y/N)!” He coughed, soot in his throat. “Are you alright? Come on, we gotta get out of here! Smoke’s not-” a beam collapsed behind him, startling him as he hooked his hands under your armpits and lifted you from your seated position. “Come on, this smoke’ll kill you!” You stood with his help, still halfway in a state of shock, and in truth embarrassment that the one you constantly defended from your group of peers had done all this…
“Is everyone…” you spoke weakly, your mind flashing to the safety of your friends.
“Everyone else is out. They’re safe, let’s go!” Hajime guided you out the way he came in looking for you, past a flipped couch and under a fallen beam. Once out in the fresh air, you regrouped with the rest, all in various states of shaken up.
Sonia immediately rushed over to you, ripping the red bow tie from her neck and dabbing the cut on your arm with the fabric before wrapping it around the wound. You thanked her with a nod. Akane, usually a bit scantily-clad anyway, had most of her remaining clothes singed off or torn. She looked more defeated then you’d seen her since Nekomaru’s death. She’d probably bounce right back soon though, knowing her. Fuyuhiko looked more pissed than usual, sitting by the pool alone. Kazuichi was being tended to by Chiaki. You overheard her saying Monomi would be bringing medical supplies and helping transport those seriously injured to the hospital for a quick check up. The students protested, however, wanting to stick together in the resort and heal up in their cabins. Your eyes bounced around the group, looking for someone in particular, though you didn’t know why.
Why? Were you truly that delusional? You must’ve been under some type of love hex. Had you Stockholm Syndrome’d yourself into being blind to his every fault? You couldn’t help it - you couldn’t deny the feelings you retained.
“Where’s…?” Your words faded off, thinking better of it. Maybe this was the wrong time. They probably didn’t want to hear about the dude who just tried to send them on a one way trip to heaven. It was too late, your words had been picked up by Fuyuhiko’s relatively undamaged ears.
“Are you fuckin’ kidding me?” He scoffed, yelling over from the pool. “He ran off as soon as he got the chance. Didn’t waste a second to make sure you were okay. You’re still worried about that asshole? He just tried to fucking kill us! You must be as crazy as him. I’m starting to think so, at this point…” 
“Fuyuhiko…” Sonia warned, a small frown creasing her porcelain face. Fuyuhiko sighed deeply, backing off the attack. He didn’t mean that last bit, he was just frustrated. He threw in the towel, too tired to continue putting up a fight. The old Fuyuhiko would've laid into you a little longer. True to his word, he was a changed man. He shook his head and went silent, disappointed in you to say the least.
You were a bit disappointed in yourself as well, frankly. Why did you still want to see him so badly, to make sure he wasn’t hurt, to make sure he knew you still cared? You didn’t know what you’d even do if you saw him again. The mix of fear, confusion and foolish adoration was potent within you right now.
After assessing everyone’s needs and injuries, it was decided that you all were to go to your cabins and rest for the night. Tomorrow, you would go as a group to the new island unguarded by its Monobeast and resume the search for the truth and freedom.
“Everyone just… yell as loud as you can, or run out of your cabin and alert the others if… if anything happens,” He looked you in the eyes as he spoke those last few words. Hajime chose the phrasing carefully but you all knew what he meant:
If Nagito came around looking to further this deranged and deadly plan of his. 
They said as he ran off he was blabbering on, yelling about the “end of Jabberwock Island” and such. It was pretty clear to the entire group that whatever he had in mind would mean chaos and peril for everyone still left alive.
~
Now back in your cabin, the sun had long since set as you continued to pace back and forth across the floor, from the full length mirror on your sliding closet door, to the entrance, then over to the small bathroom area and back again. You’d not even taken the time to shower and change your clothes. You were still a mess, your thoughts too busy to care about the blood and grime coating you.
Your mind raced, taking in everything that had happened so far in this nightmare of a class trip, taking in everything that could happen fairly soon. 
Your mind bounced to Nagito, purposely being coy when you all needed his mind desperately during trials. 
To Nagito, who actively tried to hurt someone in the very first trial, who offered to help a blackened if they ever needed him.
To Nagito, who held you close at nights and who you could open up to for hours. The same Nagito who you’d fallen for, body and mind, and who now was an object of fear and anxiety for you.
Were you really scared of him now…? Your Nagito?
A quiet knock at your door shook you out of your pacing routine. You figured it was Hajime, arranging another group meeting or maybe sweet Sonia coming to check up on you. Rushing to the door, you opened it just a crack and peeked out.
Your blood ran cold, a shiver shot down your spine. You’d never reacted to seeing him like this before. Not even close.
“Hello there, (Y/N). Oh wow, you look awful…” Nagito smiled gently at first, then the corners of his mouth slightly drooped, downturned at the state of you. You looked yourself up and down once quickly, now acknowledging that you had in fact forgotten to wash up, overwhelmed by the day. A moment passed with your heart beat picking up quickly, and you began to merely stare at him silently through the crack, unsure of how to proceed. Should you scream? Should you warn the others? Even if Nagito wouldn’t hurt you, what if he made his rounds to the other cabins and hurt the others? He wouldn’t hurt you, right? That assumption of yours was correct, right? You weren’t so sure anymore. “Well, are you gonna just stand there or are you gonna let me in?” He smiled innocently again before pushing his way past you and into the expanse of your personalized cabin. Your safe space.
“Nagito…” You let yourself exhale the breath you’d been holding in, turning to close the cabin door behind him. You hesitated on the door knob, contemplating making a break for it right then and there. “What are you doing here?” You tried to keep your voice steady and even, even as your chest thumped.
“What?” His brow furrowed, rounding on you as you closed shut the door and turned to face him. “What do you mean? I always hang out with you here!” Was he just not going to acknowledge today, when you literally could’ve died due to his actions? “I kinda missed it, you know, the smell of your cabin, your smell. Being in the funhouse all those days was such a bummer.” Approaching you in two strides of his long slender legs, he took you tightly into his arms, nevermind the dirt and ash that transferred from your clothes to his.
“N-Nagi-” your words were muffled into the fabric of his green jacket, and for a moment your spine stiffened, not sure how to receive the hug. You corrected yourself though, and relaxed, embracing him back. Nagito was volatile right now, extremely unstable, and you didn’t want to be perceived as disloyal, untrusting. Nothing to trigger him. He was clingy and needy with you quite often and that part you didn’t mind. You cared for him the way he was… but who he was had slowly been changing. Ever since he entered that damned Final Dead Room.
Nagito didn’t miss a thing, however, and you knew that. Your hesitation to hug him back made a blip on his radar.
“Is everything alright? How is my little ray of hope tonight?” He pulled back a bit, holding you at arm’s length to observe your features closely. This was so uncomfortable: the scrutinizing gaze, the sorry state of your body at that very moment, the sweat that began to bead on your forehead.
“Well, Nagito, you…” you wanted to soften the blow, and so took the initiative to this time hug him first, leaning your head onto his chest. This is what he wanted, right? Play along, don’t slip up. It’s funny, when your head rested flat against him and you inhaled his familiar scent, you felt that warm feeling that made you fall for him for just a second, until you began to finish your thought. “... today… earlier today… why did you do that? I mean… how could you, to me of all people? What if… I mean what if that explosion killed me?” Your heart beat sped up.
“Oh, silly, it wouldn’t have!” He replied as if the answer were obvious. “You’re my shining hope, my everything, and that bomb was only intended to disrupt the plans of those who were there to trap me! I was one step ahead my love. You were never in any true danger.” Ironic, as he ran a hand up and down the arm with the deep cut on it.
“Well, how would you know for sure? What if I were standing where Kazuichi was? He got the brunt of it…” you asked, but you knew whatever answer he had for you wouldn’t calm your aching heart.
“I relied on my luck, of course! It’s all I have to rely on now: you, and this useless ‘talent’ of mine.” His tone was bittersweet. His luck? He really left your safety up to his luck? Sure, you’d never seen it fail him before, but seriously…
“About that… Nagito,” you pulled away, expectantly unsatisfied with his reply and no less terrified of the inner workings of the man in front of you, “what’s made you feel this way, all of a sudden? Sure, our classmates were a little wary of you, but we were friends, all of us. You had them, too. What changed? In the funhouse you - well ever since the Final Dead Room, you’ve changed. In the trial, you said you’d learned about Hajime and how he doesn’t have an ultimate talent, and the secret behind the funhouse’s design… but there’s more you aren’t telling us… I can feel it.” Walking over to a chair beside your bed, you sat down, wrapping your arms around your middle defensively. You felt small and vulnerable under his gaze, which followed you like a hawk.
He didn’t like hearing that - that he’d changed - not from you. You were the only one exempt from his plans, even if you didn’t know it at the time. He loved you and you loved him, and he didn’t want anything to change about that. This couldn’t be just another thing that his miserable life ruined for him. For now, he ignored it, deciding that maybe letting you, the only one he could truly trust, in on his little plan would ease your mind and bring you back to him whole.
“You’re right as usual, my love.” He stood in the center of the room, gesturing as he began to get off of his chest all that he’d gleaned from his time in the funhouse. “How perceptive of you. My little hope is so incredibly smart. It’s one of the reasons I know you’ll guide this useless pack of idiots, including myself, to the highest potential our negligible little lives could ever reach!” How could you have guessed at that time that he meant when he and all the rest he deemed unfit were long gone, wiped from this world by his own will? “I’ll let you in on it, if my little bird promises not to chirp to the rest of the flock, of course…” He grinned at you as if he were a mischievous little kid about to announce a school prank and not a man dead set on getting his classmates killed. You nodded instinctively, not prepared at all for what you were about to hear. “Well it’s quite simple, really. We’ve known about the existence of a traitor for awhile now, right? We thought this entire time that the one of us who was not like the others was to blame for this entire thing, that the despair that ensnared us and caused death after death was caused by this ‘traitor’, right?” You nodded again, wanting desperately to appease him in any way you could. “Well, we couldn’t have had it more wrong, and as my reward for winning the ultimate roulette in the Final Dead Room, I was allowed this knowledge to share - or not share - as I please.” He was smirking now and your heartbeat began to pick up once again. You did not like that look in his eye. The pale planes of his cheeks began to get rosy with that self-satisifed expression he often donned when he knew his plans for hope were on track.
“W-what do you mean, Nagito?” Your voice shook and you sat up in your chair, shifting uncomfortably in place, a motion he noticed immediately. Again, he didn’t appreciate that reaction from you one bit. Why were you so uneasy around him tonight? His mind couldn’t comprehend it.
“Turns out, this whole time,” he held his arms out to each side as if surrendering himself to the powers that be, “It was us! We were the wicked ones. We were the despair, the disgusting evil that clouded all hope.” He began to chuckle at the irony that only he understood in his words. “This ‘traitor’ is the only one who can stop us! They are meant to save the world from the plague of our very existence!” He began to chuckle, a devious and unstable sound emanating from his core.
“H-how could you mean - I mean… Nagito, how could we be evil? Why would you think that? We have been working together to stop Monokuma this whole time. It couldn’t be -”
“Does it really matter how? It’s the truth! I know it is!” He cut you off, startling you as he approached and sank to his knees in front of your chair. Leaning in, he took your hand in his clammy, translucent one. He kissed the tops of your knuckles sweetly - a gesture he often did when you were alone together - and you went rigid, unsettled by his manic words. Another reaction he frowned at. “I mean, you believe me, don’t you? Have I ever been wrong before? Every time I tell you who the blackened is, I’m right! Every mystery I’ve uncovered on this island, every deduction I’ve shared with you and only you, has been correct! Every time I’ve been ‘wrong’ to them, I’ve chosen to play dumb. I’ve never lied to you, I wouldn’t!” He looked frantic, his eyes darting back and forth between yours. When you didn’t reply, he continued. “The traitor, they are the one, true hope for our vile and corrupted lot!” He smiled, again, as if this were the obvious conclusion one should draw from his words, but you just couldn’t see your friends as the monsters he portrayed them as. You couldn’t even see him that way. It just didn’t make sense. Maybe whatever he read in the Final Dead Room was just more lies, planted by Monokuma as a motive to sow more division. Nagito was too smart to fall for that…
“So, what is the solution, then… your plan?” You were almost too afraid to ask, having a good idea of what it would be. His frenzied grin softened into a straight and very serious line. You felt your stomach twist itself into knots.
“Well… we have to go, of course. All of us, except for the traitor.” He stated plainly. Eyes widening just a tick before going neutral again, you tried not to convey the abject fear in your heart. “We all have to die, it’s the only way. The traitor will go on, as the only ray of hope we have left.” With that, you yanked your hand from his grip, and his eye twitched in response.
He was willing to kill you all? All of your peers, your innocent peers who had been through so much already, together… snuff them out just like that?
“Nagito… you know who the traitor is, then…?” His head tilted at that, like a curious puppy confused at his owner’s words. “The one you’re going to spare, you know who it is?” Did it even matter anymore? At this point, the Nagito you loved was long gone. You needed to warn the others. His answer mattered to you personally, nonetheless. Your brow furrowed, your psyche overstimualted by this entire conversation. You pressed him. “Nagito… you know who the traitor is, right?” A little sterner this time, you waited for an answer that would never come. Almost as if he were too prideful, or maybe too ashamed to admit he would have to rely on his luck yet again to meet his goals, he ignored your question.
Chills running throughout your body, you quickly shot up out of the chair. Standing abruptly and causing the slender man to stumble back a bit, you steadied your shaking hands by balling them into fist at your side.
“(Y/N) -” Nagito began as he stood to meet you. Why were you acting like this? Didn’t you have the same goals as him? Didn’t you see the necessity of this plan? Didn’t you love him as much as he loved you? Didn’t you know that know that you - his unbreakable hope - the only pure thing on this miserable island, had to be the traitor? How could it be anyone else? He couldn’t be one hundred percent sure, as the file in the Final Dead Room didn’t name you specifically, but it just had to be you. It had to be. He would delude himself until his last breath.
“O-okay, Nagito, I agree! Yes, y-you’re right of course!” Play along, (Y/N), play along, your survival instincts screamed at you internally. Now it was Nagito’s heart that began to beat fast. He could sense a lie a mile away, and you knew that. Was he truly losing you? “Tell you what, let me shower, I can’t stand this filth on me for one more second.” You forced a nervous chuckle. “After that, I’ll meet you somewhere, um… away from the cabins so the others don’t find out, and we can discuss this further.” In reality, you were hoping that as you showered, he would leave to find a meeting place so that you could run to the other cabins and warn the others. He took a step toward you, and you took a step back in turn. He cringed at that, a hand reaching out weakly for your touch. It fell to his side when you backed away until your back was at the bathroom door and you reached behind you for the handle. “Okay? You go scope out a safe place for us to meet!” You looked for confirmation, fake smile still plastered across your face until your jaw hurt from clenching so hard.
“Okay, (Y/N)...” his heart broke at your willingness to lie straight to his face. You’d never done that before. You would always be honest with him, even with the silliest thoughts. You nodded in reassurance, slipping into the mini bathroom afforded to you by Monokuma and closing the door. It was a modest thing, a small alcove in each cabin with merely a shower stall, sink with a mirror, and toilet all snug into one tiny area. You undressed like the wind, ready to take the quickest shower of your life. Just a rinse for the blood and dirt, running the water long enough to be convincing and you were out. You needed time to run to at least a few of your classmates' cabins before Nagito got back. Whoever you got to first could spread the word. You slid the glass shower stall door open and jumped inside, not even waiting for the water to warm up.
Soaking yourself promptly, you began to scrub off the day you’d had with a small wash cloth nearby. Mere minutes into your shower, you heard the small bathroom door slam open. Freezing instantly, you halted all motion and stared at the figure in the doorway that was a blurry mess of greens, creams and whites through the frosted glass of the shower door. Without a word, the figure approached the shower door and you felt your body go into fight or flight mode, adrenaline kicking into high gear.
This was it… you thought. You were sure that if you were the traitor, you would’ve known. The traitor was still out there, hiding their identity, and now Nagito was going to do exactly what he said he was going to do. You had to go… hope for the world was the end goal that superseded romantic feelings. Your life flashed before your eyes, and you thought of your friends, and how you failed to save them.
Nagito threw open the sliding door, and you fell back against the beige tile behind you, hands flying up to protect your head and face. You didn’t know how he would kill you, but braced for an expected blow. Exposed, defenseless and naked, vital organs unprotected, you began to sob.
“No! Nagito, please!” You screamed at the top of your lungs as he entered the shower stall in a panic, clothes and all. He clapped one cold hand over your mouth, a hand that was shaking. Instantly, tears sprang forth from his own eyes. Were you really that scared of him?
“No, don’t scream, please! Please, (Y/N)!” He released your mouth, throwing his arms around your shoulders in a crushing embrace. The shower head continued to spray down, soaking him now along with you as he clung to you like his life depended on it under its stream. His wild, long locks clung to his neck and forehead and his wet jacket weighed him down. You both stood weeping onto each other freely, Nagito from a broken heart, and you from shock. You were too terrified to move, to care that you were completely nude. He didn’t seem to care either, crushing you in his grip. He was a lot stronger than he looked.
“Nagito… Nagito please…” you pleaded, still not entirely sure these weren’t your last moments.
“I can’t bear to see you terrified of me. You’re… you’re the only one…” He could barely speak through his choked out sobs. He shook his head vehemently, needy for your touch. His hands roamed up and down your back desperately. He needed to feel you there, to know you were real.
“What…?” You didn’t understand.
“You’re the only one,” he sniffled, “who shouldn’t be afraid of me! You’re my shining hope. You’re my light in this darkness!” Tears wracked his body. “Why would a complete and utter nobody like me, talentless trash undeserving of your love ever try to hurt you? I wouldn’t even dream of it. (Y/N), please don’t hate me. I couldn’t bear it!” His finger nails dug into your spine. He was conflicted, and couldn’t fight the swell of anger that contended with the sadness in his chest. It felt like you didn’t know him at all to think he would hurt you. You weren’t the despair he sought to end. You had nothing to fear.
“But, y-you said- !” You began and he interrupted, unable to hear any more doubts of his loyalty to you.
“I know you’re the traitor. I just know it! You’re too good, too perfect to not be…” You’d never heard him so unconfident in his own reasoning before.
“You can’t possibly know that, Nagito!” You spat back, limp in his arms.
“I do know it. I know it. I’ll bet my luck on it. I want it so badly, my luck has to come through. It’s you, it has to be! I could never kill you. I could never get you killed. The others are the despair, you’re the solution. I know it’s you. I’m gonna make it all right… just watch!” He stepped back, taking your puffy face in his hands, staring directly into your eyes. “You’ll make it out of here! You’ll survive the last trial and go on without me, my love. I know it’s you!” He was deceiving himself once again, daring to want something so badly, so selfishly.
He would never live to see just how wrong he was.
Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu
You, your boyfriend Fuyuhiko, and your best friend Peko went way back. As a kid growing up on Fuyuhiko’s side of town, everyone knew to avoid Kuzuryu property. Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately looking back at it, you were a pretty reckless as a kid, even if you weren’t now. You used to to slip through fences and past security cameras all the time to play with the blonde fuzzy-haired kid and the girl with the cool sword. Your parents scolded you when you came home, not knowing where you really were, but you always found your way back. The boy, who always had a temper, and the girl, who was the calm to his storm, repeatedly called you names, told you to never come back or his family would kill you, then played with you all day anyway. You had no idea what his family truly was, what the word yakuza really entailed, only that everyone said that part of town was dangerous. You didn’t see it that way, not when you played cops and robbers or samurai and peasant with your two best friends nearly every day. The boy, Fuyuhiko as you’d come to learn, would always rush you off the property if his father was coming home or when less friendly clan members came around, and you didn’t learn until years later why.
By that time it was too late for you to be scared of his yakuza status or Peko’s true strength now revealed to you. You were besties, and nothing was ever going to change that. Through middle school, you formed quite the crush on the petite bad boy, and although he still had a nasty temper and could be quite aloof at times, you wanted him all the same. A lifelong friendship bloomed into a romantic relationship - with hesitance on his part - and before you knew it, you were set to attend Hope’s Peak together. You kept your relationship secret from everyone save for Peko. Fuyuhiko insisted on this, for your own safety.
Now here you were, on this mysterious tropical island with all of your memories of Hope’s Peak wiped clean. You found that in general, many memories of your past were wiped clean, save for those few precious and essential ones. You remembered growing up with Fuyuhiko, your relationship with him, and Peko who you loved like a sister. Everyone else were strangers, strangers who seemingly also couldn’t remember how they got there or how you were all connected. You were all freshmen it seemed, and that was were it stopped.
Almost immediately after Monokuma’s appearance and monologue, Fuyuhiko had pushed both you and Peko away. He demanded you both pretend like you didn’t know him, treat him like everyone else and if need be, you’d meet in secret and away from prying eyes. This was to be a killing game with rules and trials, and no one else here seemed to know each other from their past. If the others found out you three were connected, you would no doubt all be dragged down if one of you got caught up in something nasty. Allies, a package deal and all that. He didn’t want your connection to him to put you or Peko in danger. He knew you’d both die for him, and he for you, and he wouldn’t let any of these idiots use that weakness against you.
~
The cat was long since out of the bag. Peko was gone and you’d helped Mikan nurse Fuyuhiko in and out of the hospital after his near-fatal wounds from trying to save the swordswoman from her from execution. Everyone knew of your relationship now, which meant no more sneaking around behind everyone’s back, but Peko’s life wasn’t the price you ever wanted to pay for that freedom. Along with Peko’s passing additionally came a visible change in your boyfriend’s soul. Though he still had that fiery temper, he controlled it with great effort now. He tried harder with people, forgave easier, loved better, appreciated more. The days of reflection in the hospital stirred something in him.
Weeks passed, and it was one tragedy after another. From the group giving you hell about keeping secrets, to tending to Fuyuhiko’s extensive wounds, to now finding Ibuki hanging from a rope and Hiyoko posted up against a pillar with her throat slit, your group couldn’t seem to catch a break.
Though Mikan and yourself begged him to get some rest - as his wound had already reopened once - Fuyuhiko insisted on investigating in preparation for the trial with everyone else. He was as strong-willed as ever. You searched the hospital with him for clues or evidence the blackened may have sloppily left behind. He was on edge, and you couldn’t blame him. Everyone was, these were the fifth and sixth classmates dead in the blink of an eye, and the killer was still on the loose. Your skin crawled and you were extra jumpy today. Every corpse you had to look upon took a little more of your innocence and vitality from you, and this maniac had already killed twice. What was to stop them from killing again?
Fuyuhiko insisted that he wasn’t scared of the blackened, quite the opposite. It was his rage aimed at them that would fuel his strength to move on and identify them. You knew him well, and knew when to back off when he was in a mood. Everything seemed to annoy him at the moment. It was hard to search with him and cooperate when he got pissed off everytime you fussed over his healing injuries. He kept swatting you away then apologizing for being irate and short-tempered. He just wanted you to stop babying him.
Just now bending over to search near a hospital bed, Fuyuhiko shot upright, jumping at a sudden sound that startled him.
“What the fuck-?!” He turned to the source of the loud crash behind him. You were splayed out across the floor behind him, a deep gash on your cheek spilling blood down your face as you sat up. “What the hell did you do?!”
“I just tripped! I’m fine!” You gestured with one hand to a small table you’d toppled over, holding your bloody cheek with the other. The contents on said table, various sharp little medical instruments and tools, were strew about and on top of your body. Fuyujiko glared at the hard counter top of the cabinet you’d hit your cheek off of on the way down. Now you knew how Mikan felt, always making a mess of her clumsy self.
“You’re a fuckin’ idiot! Why don’t you watch where you’re going?! We’ve got enough shit to deal with right now!” He kneeled down to your level and started rapidly picking up the various scalpels and knives around you.
“I’m sorry, ‘Hiko…” the shame was setting in. He was already ornery today and you’d somehow made it even worse. He leaned over your body, reaching for more of the small instruments.
“Sorry’s not gonna cut it! You-”  hovering over you, he lifted one of the razor sharp tools above his head in a clenched, angry gesture. You turned your head, gasping slightly and flinching away from him. Your free hand came up to cover your face with your eyes shut tight in a grimace. Upon seeing you recoil, cowering away from him like that, he halted, the rest of his complaint dropping off into oblivion.
He didn’t want to be like that anymore, remember? He reminded himself of his temper, of his talks with Hajime in the hospital, of Peko’s memory urging him to do better, of his display of humility to Hiyoko in the hotel restaurant.
He cleared his throat awkwardly, putting the instrument aside and gently pulling you to your feet alongside him.
“Come on, sit down. Let’s get you cleaned up.” He pushed you gently down to sit on the hospital bed and reached for some simple disinfectant, a cloth to put it on, and a large bandage. He began to pat the blood away. “We’ll have Mikan look at this later to see if it needs stitches, but this is the best I can do for now.” He noticed you avoiding his eye contact and his heart sank. “Hey…” He held your chin, titing your head to look up and meet his gaze. “I’m really sorry, okay. I would never lay a hand on you. That is a fact. Please… know this for certain.”
“I know, I just… I don’t know… I’m sorry I reacted that way.” His apology helped, but you still felt a little foolish.
“No, it’s me who should be sorry. There’s no need to get that angry, especially at you, especially for an accident.” He sighed, running a hand down his face. He had a long way to go. “Please slow down. Be more careful and worry about yourself as much as you worry about me. I can’t lose you, too.”
Hajime Hinata
You’d closed yourself up in your cabin for good, with no plans to go out in the foreseeable future. Every few minutes you checked the locks, on both the doors and the windows, biting your nails down to nearly bleeding. In addition to shutting yourself in, you’d shut the world, the island, and all your classmates out. You were a nervous wreck.
Mere hours ago, Nagito had blown the hotel lobby and everyone in it sky high. He’d finally lost what little marbles he had left. Nobody knew fully why, but he’d snapped too far beyond repair. Both you and poor Kazuichi were very near to the blast zone, and even now you felt a dizziness and slight loss of hearing. You were sure that over in his cabin, Kazuichi was feeling the same way. You wanted to pass out, to scream, to topple over in exhaustion but refused to let yourself leave your post. As much as you were tired and dizzy, you were equally as terrified. What if that maniac Nagito showed up again to finish the job? Though the vertigo threatened to take you down for the count, you were determined to stay vigilant. Your mind grew more and more dull and hazy by the second, though.
Hajime and the others wanted to go to the new island in the morning, and as far as you were concerned, they could search until their hearts were content. You’d given up. You’d been broken. You’d been beaten by Monokuma and this killing game. Why go to a new island? Every time you guys went to a new island to explore, someone died. Everyone was dying. There was a psychopath hell-bent on blowing you up - or worse - on the loose. You were content to stay in your cottage and rot away. Paranoid and eroded away from trial after trial, you’d refused to let anyone in, even your sweet boyfriend, Hajime, who’d already tried to come check on you several times that night. Even as the rain poured down from the night sky and lightning cracked consistently, he kept coming back. He was extremely concerned about you, but you just couldn’t do it anymore. You didn’t trust anyone anymore. You couldn’t.
You trusted Teruteru, and Peko, and Mikan, and Gundham, and Nagito… it was all too much. Who would betray you next? Who would stab you in the back when you least expected it for a chance at freedom as a blackened who got away with it? It could be literally anyone. Sonia had a country to get back to, an entire country waiting for her. Fuyuhiko had an empire. They all had a reason to live and you’d be an easy target in this state of barely conscious, injured and mentally broken.
You’d almost fallen asleep when a knock came at your door, again…
You almost chose to ignore it, but figured getting your body moving would keep you awake, so you forced your feet over to the door.
“Hajime…?” You assumed, your voice weak.
“Man…” he sighed loudly, muffled by the rain and the barrier of the door, “(Y/N)... you sound terrible. I really do think you have a concussion. Please let me in. I’m worried sick.”
“Please go away, Hajime. I’m sorry… I’ll be fine. I just -”
“I know you’re scared. You know you can trust me.” There was that word again… Moments passed in silent contemplation. “... I’m gonna keep coming back until you let me in. I’m soaked… please…” he whined, jiggling the door handle on his side. Now it was your turn to sigh. You rested your head against the door, senses dimming fast. He was probably right, you most likely did have a concussion. Your head ached, your vision was a bit blurry, the light of your cabin bothered your eyes. “You can’t just stay in there forever, you need medical atten-” The door swung open before him, and you hurriedly signaled for him to come in, swiftly locking the door behind him.
“No sudden movements. I’m a bit confused right now… everything’s a bit slow…” Your words slurred out but he seemed to catch them all.
“Yeah, no shit. You were blown all the way across the hotel floor. Come here, let me check something.” He took your wrist and stood you in the center of the room in front of him. He pulled a small flashlight he won from the gacha machine from his pocket and flashed it into your eyes slowly. “Try to stand still.” You were trying to, but swayed and stumbled regardless. “See, you can’t even do that much. Look, since Mikan is gone, we gotta let Monomi help us out. Let’s get you to the hospital.”
“What?! No, no no…” your heart beat quickened, feeling that paranoid panic set in again. “I’m not leaving this room.” The confusion was hitting again as you stumbled backwards a step and your back met the side of your bed. Was this a set up? You already let him in, now he wanted to get you out in the open? “Something’s gonna happen! I won’t go!”
“(Y/N), I promise I’ll get you to the hospital safely and I’ll stay with you the whole time. I know you’re scared but you’re being irrational right now!”
A thunderous boom sounded outside as high above your cabin the lightning cracked. In an instant, all of the lights wavered and went out. You cried out into the pitch black. You couldn’t see even a foot in front of you. This was definitely a set up. It had stormed plenty of times on this island, and the lights never went out like this.
Hajime reached out for you in the dark, and you screamed even louder at his touch. This was it, the betrayal. It was inevitable on this hell of an island. No one could truly be trusted.
“(Y/N), stop! Stop yelling!” Hajime grabbed one of your wrists in the dark, and you sank to the floor, too dizzy to stand any longer. He heard the thud of your butt hitting the ground, though he couldn’t see it, and sunk to his knees beside you.
“Please… don’t hurt me, Hajime…” the words tumbled out of your mouth lazily. You wanted to pass out so badly.
“Hurt you?” He sounded incredulous, almost scoffing. Turning the screen brightness all the way up on his e-handbook, he set it on the ground beside you both for some type of light, as meager as it was, and sat the flashlight beside it. He grabbed your face in his hands, gently shaking you to alertness. He’d heard it wasn’t good to let someone with a concussion fall asleep. “I’d never hurt you.” He stated almost matter-of-factly. “You’re just going through a rough time right now... Don’t talk like that. You know I’d never hurt you. I care about you, a lot.” He adjusted your position so you were sitting up a little straighter.
It pained him to see you this way. This killing game was stealing your luster, your goodness, your spirit. He’d noticed that your smile - a smile he loved so very much - grew smaller and smaller with each trial. Now it’d come to this. You were frightened of even him…
“I’m so scared, Hajime…”
“I know. I know you are.” He spoke with compassion in his voice. “Will you let me help you? Please…?” He waited for your nod of confirmation before continuing. “Come on,” he scooped one arm under your legs and the other under behind your back and stood with you in his arms. “We’re gonna get you the help you need. I know it’s hard, but we are a team. You, me, Chiaki, Sonia, Kazuichi, Fuyuhiko, Akane, we need to do this together. I know it’s hard to trust after all that’s happened, but I’m gonna keep you safe, and we’re gonna survive this, together.”
Kazuichi Soda
Kazuichi sat in front of the busted funhouse elevator, ass nearly numb from sitting in that position for hours. He was squatting before, until his knees began to hurt as well. You sat behind him, handing him tool after tool when he needed it and offering encouragement and advice when you could. Still, he was being testy and very short with you and the two of you had gotten into it several times today already. Nothing big, just a few little spats. You had to keep reminding him that you were only trying to help, but nonetheless he was in a foul mood.
You knew he was truly mad at the situation, not you. His anger was misplaced but it still hurt. You’d all been locked up in the funhouse for days without food and with minimal sleep due to Monokuma’s interference and everyone was on each other’s last nerves. Now the elevator was broken, and the Ultimate Mechanic was expected to be the one to fix it. He’d been at it all day, and with each set back or miniscule perceived failure, he got more and more irritated.
You handed him a wrench you’d gotten from the hidden room beyond the Final Dead Room. All the tools he was currently using were from there as well. Oh yeah, that was another reason he was so pissed off. He’d never admit to it, but the fact that you were smart and brave enough to pass the Final Dead Room’s test unscathed and here he couldn't even fix this measly machine irked him like nothing else. He felt like the word useless might as well have been stamped onto his head. After he let out yet another frustrated groan, stretching out his sore wrist, you sighed and spoke up:
“Hey, Kaz’, it’s okay if you can’t get it done today. Let’s get some rest. We need to conserve energy.” He looked at you as if you’d just called him the biggest loser ever.
“That’s easy for you to say! You’re actually contributing to the group! You don’t have the burden of feeling like a failure on your mind!” He gritted his sharp teeth.
“You are contributing by even trying to fix it!” You retorted, not appreciating his tone or him starting an argument with you yet again today.
“Oh, don’t patronize me! You just don’t get it! Everyone likes you and you’re good at everything you try! I can’t even do what I was literally born to do correctly!” He spat.
“Oh, Kazuichi, give me a break! It is not that deep! Nobody even needs to use the elevator at this very moment!” You shifted your position right next to him, crossing your arms over your chest in a pouting display.
“If you’re not gonna help, then just go away!” He leaned forward toward you, raising the wrench in his hand in exasperation. You jolted backwards, leaning away from him with a fright.
Things got really awkward, very fast. The air went dead silent and all anger drained from his face. He lowered the wrench as a blank expression took over, followed by one of slight embarrassment. Did you really think he was gonna hit you with it? A moment passed, and you both looked away from each other, refusing to make eye contact.
“H-hey…” Kazuichi hesitated for a second, then made up his mind. Grabbing your shoulder, he seized you into his chest and held you tightly. His mind flashed back to his years in the family shop, to glimpses of his dad screaming whenever he angered him, even hitting him sometiimes for fucking up on a car. He might have even deserved it - he thought - but you didn’t. For sure, you didn't. He respected but feared his father, and he didn’t want to make anyone feel like that, especially not you. “I would never hit ya like that! Y-you gotta know that, right?!” His voice broke as he fought back tears. “I’m sorry for being an asshole today. This place just fuckin’ sucks you know? I can’t take it anymore!” You felt wetness soak through your shirt on your shoulder though you couldn’t see his face. You returned the hug, pulling him tighter into yourself. You two sat like that for a long while, resigned to give the elevator another try sometime later.
Nekomaru Nidai
You and Nekomaru were kinda… a thing? It was complicated because you were two very different people, but there was a little spark, a mutual crush that was known of and whispered about by the other students. It was weird, because you two flirted with each other, but nothing really ever happened because when he was around, you felt like a flustered mess, a puddle of mush. He was an intimidating, extroverted mountain of a man, and it was easy to become nervous in his presence. It’s like you were touch-starved, head over heels for your handsome classmate and yet the thought of him touching you turned you into an anxious idiot at the same time. You spent a quite lot of time together but there was rarely any touching other than a motivational clap on the back or the slap when you made a good joke, maybe even a very platonic-feeling bear hug as a greeting every once in a while.
In fact, you saw more chemistry between him and Akane, or even him and Hajime, two people he hung out with all the time. Heck, he touched Akane a lot more than he ever touched you. It made you feel a bit jealous, even. You felt silly even admitted this to yourself, as he wasn’t even your boyfriend and could do whatever he pleased, but it was frustrating nonetheless.
You wanted to be mature, to be honest and communicate your feelings with him once and for all because the pining, the unfulfilled feelings were driving you crazy but it had totally blown up in your face. Turns out your relationship with him was a lot more complicated than you originally thought. The talk ended up as a bit of an argument… well, it felt like you were arguing and stumbling over your feelings while he didn’t seem to be upset at all, which made you feel even more overwhelmed. You felt childish, unable to express yourself in a way that didn’t feel humiliating. He always seemed willing to talk something out, but at the same time didn’t really seem to understand how you felt in any other way than on a platonic level. He motivated, talked to, trained, and fixed people for a living, but maybe sports and romance were just too different for this conversation to click in his head. Or maybe… you were reading the signs all wrong. Maybe he didn’t like you back at all. Maybe you and your peers had misinterpreted his fondness for you as flirting, and you decided to accept that. You respectfully asked him to forget about everything you said, and apologized for the confusion and awkwardness, making your swift exit.
~
Sulking, dejected and needing some alone time, you walked along the lengthy bridge that connected Jabberwock Park to the island that housed the supermarket and resort. The sun was in the process of setting, leaving the island nearly dark with last last bits of daylight.
“(Y/N)!” You looked up from your navel-gazing to see a large figure bolting toward you at the speed of light. Nekomaru’s sudden appearance startled you even though you knew the guy to be loud and over the top. At that distance, you may not have been able to tell it was him in this little lighting if he weren’t yelling out your name. You’d recognize the voice from a mile away. As he finally approached, not the least bit out of breath, he began to speak immediately.
“Hey, (Y/N)!” He seemed a bit different, a bit less charged-up than his usual state. It was like a calm state of focus.
“Hey… Nekomaru.” You smiled weakly, still extremely nervous standing in his shadow. You had to tell yourself that you only felt this way because you liked him, and you had to let go of those feelings. “What’s up?” You twiddled your thumbs timidly, eluding the eye contact.
“I wanted to talk to you about earlier. When we chatted… well, I’ve been thinking about it all day. It’s been bothering me! So…” His brow furrowed. It wasn’t often he was speechless. “Uhhh..” he stalled in his deep rumble of a voice. He took a step closer to you, and you took one skittish step back. It felt weird having him in your personal bubble. It bred butterflies in your stomach. You began to shiver. It was partly because of the chill in the evening air, and partly because you dreaded confrontation like this. You feared he would make this more painful and awkward than it already was. Why couldn’t he leave it be? You weren’t his type, you accepted that! You took another self-conscious step back.
“We don’t really need to talk about it. I get how you feel, it’s fi-” a gasp passed through your lips as his massive hand suddenly flew down toward you. You flinched backward just a tad and felt your heel slip off the edge of the bridge. His hand found its desired destination around your waist and he pulled you in snugly to his wide, warm chest.
“W-why did you do that?” You looked up at him, your face pulsating with warmth just underneath the skin. He raised a brow apphrehensively at your reaction.
“You were shaking, so I figured you were cold. Plus, you were about to fall off the bridge. Two birds, one stone! Bet you’re warmin’ up now, huh?” He grinned down at you briefly before the wary expression took over again. “Hey, I know I’m a big dude an’ all, but you don’t need to be afraid of me or anything…” he mumbled and you could feel him speak from your position smashed against his chest. You looked down now, a bit ashamed that you made him feel that way. You didn’t know why he cared what you thought of him, but you could hear the slight hurt in his voice.
“I’m not scared of you, Nekomaru… quite the opposite…”
“Whaddaya mean?” What did he mean what do you mean??? Was he really that clueless? You literally had a whole conversation about this earlier today. Did the meaning of your words fly totally over his head… or were you just not clear enough?
“Nekomaru… I’m not scared I just…” you paused, debating just shutting up then and there, “I just get really nervous around you because… I really like you. Like as more than a friend…”
“You do?” Why did he sound genuinely surprised?
“I told you so earlier…”
“You did?!” He donned a puzzled look, and you looked up at him, incredulous. “No way!”
“I told you how I felt earlier, and you didn’t seem to feel the same so I let it go!”
“See, I told you it’s been bothering me, because I couldn’t for the life of me understand what you were so upset about earlier!” He threw his head back in one of his endearing, hearty laughs. What was that stereotype? Dumb jock?
“I mean, I tried to tell you, without being too forward or blunt. I was afraid you’d reject me…”
“Haha! Next time, why don’t you try to be more straightforward and honest with your feelings? It feels good!” He flexed the arm that held you close, giving you a good squeeze. You felt your cheeks warm up sheepishly.
“Like I said… you make me nervous…” you chuckled diffidently.
“Well, what do you say we try that talk again?” He began to resume the walk across the bridge, with you under his arm. “This time, we both be clear adn honest with each other?” His eyebrow wriggled rather mischeviously. “I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised with the results.”
Twogami / Ultimate Imposter
You’d spent nearly all of what little time you’d been on the island with Byakuya. You were starting to form a little crush on him, and he was rather fond of you as well (not that he’d ever openly admit it) so he allowed it. You of course knew about the Togami family’s power and influence, everyone did, so you found yourself a bit shy around him, but having fun at the same time getting to know him. You were a bit of of a people pleaser, both curious about him and eager to help if he needed it. There were times when you two simply hung out, like two normal people, and sometimes he even seemed to find you as fascinating as you found him. When he found himself asking one too many questions about you, however, he always seemed to reel it in, pulling back like he had some type of wall up.
You were fine with it. You’d just met a few days ago after all, and the friendship… or something more, would form when it formed. You didn’t want to force it. You were already feeling a bit silly and about wanting to connect with the Ultimate Affulent Progeny in the first place. Someone with his wealth and status could probably spend his time with anyone he wanted.
The threat of the start of a potential killing game was putting everyone on edge, even the scion himself, though he carried it better than most. He genuinely looked like someone your class might be able to look to as a leader.
The group had decided to throw a little party later that night, and you offered to help Byakuya tick off and confiscate all weapons or even potential weapons in the old building that would house this party… for some reason. Every loose wooden plank, every butter knife, every pointy object had to go. It felt like he knew something no one else did… but, you happily followed along, helping him with this task. Honestly, though, on the inside, you feared he was being a little too uptight. How would he enjoy the little get together tonight in this state of uneasiness?
In between locking up items he dubbed nefarious and double checking every corner of the building, you two actually got to know each other a little better. After hours of work, he was satisfied. All the while, he seemed to be watching Teruteru and Nagito like a hawk as the two shuffled in and out of the building preparing tonight’s dishes and cleaning respectively. What was Byakuya hiding from you? Why all the suspicion? Did he genuinely think one of your classmates would kill someone tonight? That was just insane to even think about.
Trying to ease his mind, you started up an innocent conversation.
“You shouldn’t worry so much, really! Tonight will be great! I know it. I brought my good luck charm and everything!” Smiling and seeking to distract his tense mind, you brought a little trinket out from your back pocket. In your flattened out hand you displayed a little baby blue pocket knife, barely the size of your palm. “My dad gave it to me when I was really little, and I -”
“What is wrong with you?!” Byakuya’s hand shot out toward you to grab the small blade and you flinched backward, holding your hands up defnesively and dropping it onto the floor in the process. The sudden, angry movement had frightened you, especially coming from a man who knew how to hold an intimidating presence.
The silence then was palpable as it hung in the air, and he, the real him, wanted to apologize, to explain himself and express regret for overreacting. He wanted to say that you’d been a joy to hang out with these past few days and that he’d never raise a hand to you, but Byakuya Togami would never lower himself to say these things… and right now, he was Byakuya Togami. He steeled himself to speak.
“I was merely going to confiscate the blade from you. What a gross overreaction…” He spoke condescendingly. “Do you really think me some animal, some lesser beast who physically assaults people? Don’t insult me so…” He scoffed, plucked the blade from the ground and pocketed it. “I don’t know what kind of men you’ve dealt with, but clearly you’ve been hanging around with the dregs of humanity.” Crossing his arms nonchalantly over his chest, he left you there without another word, satisfied that his facade had remained in tact. Inside, it burned, it hurt to be so cruel to such a sweet person like you. He left to make final preparations for the party tonight and you stayed behind, offering to help Teruteru and Nagito since you were already there. It would take your mind off of the humiliation you just suffered.
~
Early into the next morning, when Monokuma dismissed the survivors of the very first class trial back to their cottages at last, you’d nearly missed it as you crawled onto your bed in a tired, traumatized ball:
A rectangular black box sat on your bedside table. It wasn’t yours, and you were sure your cabin door was locked. How did it even get there?
You opened it cautiously and found the most expensive looking, elegant, and elaborate looking pen in the world within. On one side was the Togami family crest, engraved delicately and masterfully. Tucked under it was a small note. You read it, tears welling up immediately.
A replacement good luck charm - T
Gundham Tanaka
Gundham felt totally secure with you, a feeling he’d never truly felt with anyone else. He’d never state it in plain words, but it was true nonetheless. You’d always been accepting of him and his rather eccentric ways. He didn’t need to feel like an outcast around you. He felt completely seen, understood on a whole new level. He could’ve sworn you cast some sort of spell over him, the way his cheeks and the tips of his ears would feel like they were on fire when you complimented him or held his hand. He nearly burst into flames when you once pecked his cheek with your soft lips after he carried a bunch of stuff back to your cabin for you as a favor.
You two spent nearly every day together. Everyone knew you two were a thing and you didn’t mind the teasing. You had no reason to be ashamed of how you felt about Gundham. He was the kindest soul you’d ever met, it just took a little digging to figure that out. Other than Hajime and Sonia - the only other two who really tried to get to know him - you were the only one who he’d let tend to the Devas. You often held them, fed them, watched them in your cabin when Gundham showered or needed a short break. The hamsters and Gundham himself provided a much needed light for you in the darkness of this killing game. The little things you did with him mattered so much to you. You appreciated every moment when in this place, you could be very much dead the next day. You swam at the pool and went shopping at the supermarket together on the main island, ate at the diner together on the second, hung out at the music venue together on the third, and now, trapped in the funhouse with starvation as the motive, Gundham insisted that you share the sound-proof, luxury room with him.
You’d initially gotten extremely flustered by his request but eventually accepted. Gundham didn’t seem to think twice about it. You supposed he was so naive to romance that he saw nothing wrong with you two sharing a bedroom at all. Maybe he did know, but cared more about your safety than the embarrassment. You knew he’d never do anything without your express permission anyway, so after deliberating, decided it was a non-issue. It was unusual for Monomi not to pop up to protest, however.
~
Days into being trapped in the funhouse, you sat at the small desk in your room feeling like a total asshole. You’d been in an argument with Gundham earlier, one that you’d totally started and knew you were in the wrong for. You rarely ever had a disagreement with him, much less gotten into a full-on fight. It was a bit one-sided however, as you yelled and complained while he just tried to reason with you and ultimately ended up leaving you alone in the room for some space. You regretted it the instant he left, and had made up your mind to apologize the second he returned. You were miserable: starving and dead tired from Monokuma Tai Chi every morning, but that was no excuse for your behavior. Everyone else was hungry and cranky, too, and you’d taken your anger out on Gundham for no reason.
You pulled out the headphones and small MP3 player Hajime gifted you when you hung out a few weeks back and slumped forward on the desk, moping as you put the headphones in and blasted the music as loud as the cheap earbuds would allow. You had to pass the time somehow, and walking around looking for Gundham when he’d eventually come back here to sleep would waste what little energy you had left. There was a small part of your mind that wondered: what if he didn’t come back? Your heart ached. Everyone was starving… someone would have to kill soon to get out of this hopeless situation. You could only hope and pray that the last thing you said to Gundham wouldn’t be that hateful nonsense. You let yourself zone out, head down on the desk and eyes closed lazily. You began to doze off and wouldn’t know how long you were out.
You awoke to the music still blasting in your ears and a tap on your shoulder.
“Hmm?” Groggily you turned to see Gundham behind you. Gripped tightly in his gauze-wrapped hand was a large, sharp knife the length of your forearm. Your eyes widened and you screamed, taken off guard by the frightening sight. “Gundham, please, no!” It was a bit odd that he looked more shocked than you did as you backed away from him, falling off the chair and onto the floor behind it with a thud. Tears began to stream down you face. 
You didn’t think it would end like this, but it was kinda of the perfect location. The room was sound-proof, after all. You just never expected a betrayal this cruel. Maybe you should’ve. After all this time, all of these deaths, it was naive to truly trust anyone on this island. Why did it have to be him though of all people? Maybe he had to do this. After all, the Devas were starving, too, and they meant the world to him. Getting out meant saving them as well.
Tossing the knife onto the bed, he rushed over to you, kneeling to the floor and tearing the earbuds out of your ears.
“What sort of demon has possessed you?!” Confusion coated his visage and the Devas hopped down from their master’s scarf and swarmed you, sensing your distress.
“What do you mean?! You just scared the shit outta me!” Fresh tears sprang forward with your frustration.
“That was never my intention, my beloved…” he shook his head apologetically.
“Well you can’t just pop up out of nowhere with a knife like that, especially in a situation like this! I thought you were about to fucking murder me!” 
“I assumed you knew that I would never do you harm, so I didn’t see an issue with my approach… These other peasants would do well to fear my dark powers, but I thought you knew that my loyalties lie with you, dear one!” He pulled off one of his dramatic gestures. You pulled your knees up into yourself, suddenly feeling very stupid.
He proceeded to explain that while he was gone, he’d decided to take on the Final Dead Room in hopes of finding a route of escape from the funhouse because he couldn’t stand to see you suffer like this for a single day more. Instead, he came upon a cache of weapons of every sort and size, and begged you to keep that fact a secret. Pulling you to your feet, he sat you down on the bed and handed you the knife.
“Since I can not spirit you away from this hell, I have chosen to provide you with the means to defend yourself should I ever fail to. Hide it somewhere that is always accessible to you and no one else. And my darling, I beg of thee,” he pleaded, “cease all usage of that wretched machine!” He pointed to the MP3 player discarded onto the ground. “You must be on your guard at all times in this place, especially if the Devas and I are not there to guard you.” Your bottom lip quivered, heart swelling at his concern for you, even after you screamed at him earlier. You sat the knife down and threw your arms around him, collapsing into his chest. You didn’t deserve him.
“I’m so sorry, Gundham! After I sat here and bitched at you for no reason, you went out and still thought of my safety? I’m so, so sorry!”
“Think nothing of it, dear one…” He mumbled, burying his red face in his scarf.
Teruteru Hanamura
Most of the your other classmates were repulsed or at the very least annoyed by Teruteru’s antics. His behavior: overtly flirty and forward, even to the point of perversion, was a major turn off for most of the people he talked to, but you actually really liked him. You found his one-liners funny, his pick up lines amusing. He was genuinely fun to hang out with, in your opinion. He complimented you a lot, and you would playfully tease and flirt back. He really seemed to enjoy the matching of his energy, and though you’d only known each other for about a week, you spent a lot of time together. He was usually showing you some simple yet delicious recipes and letting you taste test his meals (of course with a lot of innuendos built in) and you would share your interests with him while you cooked together. You noticed, also, that the more time you spent with him, the less time he spent bothering the others. Maybe all he needed was a little positive attention all along.
Tonight, all of your classmates would be attending a party, both to socailize and ensure that nothing could happen because you’d all be in the same place, which would leave too many witnesses, therefore making a killing unlikely. Teruteru of course was excited to do what he did best and provide the meals for the party, but his mood seemed to be like a rollercaster that day. As you spent hours helping him cook, sometimes leaving to take breaks or talk to the others, he seemed to go from flirty to worried, salacious to nervous, confident to angry. His mood seemed to turn foul when Nagito would waltz by the kitchen, passing through as he did his assigned cleaning duties in the party building. You noted this, but it was strange, as you hadn’t known Teruteru to particularly dislike any of your peers… Did he have an issue with Nagito? But Nagito was so chill…
No matter the reason for his mood swings, you took them for what they were and tried to help out by offering an extra hand (which he made a dirty joke about) or changing the subject when he got gloomy. You could only do so much to stabilize his mood, however, and eventually he seemed to just be barking orders or frustrated with you. He was already in a bad mood and you didn’t want to contribute to it. You weren’t a true chef anyway and you were probably just getting in the way, you figured, so you took a big tray of finished dishes and began to make your way out to the dining hall.
Your shoe caught onto a thick chord just outside the kitchen door, just a piece of junk Nagito hadn’t gotten to yet and you tumbled forward, spilling the entire tray onto the floor. You gasped as you hit the floor, your knees stinging with the impact. Teruteru, who witnessed the whole thing, ran over to you with a shriek to make sure you were okay. The melancholy melted away, and checking on you was all that mattered.
“(Y/N)!” Mistaking his tone for anger because of his previously existing foul mood, you were startled by his approach, flinching away, shrinking backwards slightly. You fucked up, you ruined the dishes he spent hours making. He was probably furious with you. He stopped dead in his tracks, shocked by that instinctual response from you. With your reaction, he finally realized how rude he’d been to you all night. It wasn’t your fault Nagito was up to no good, and even knowing what he knew, he shoudn’t have taken his mood out on you. He was pushing away the one person who treated him with such kindness and respect on this island. His mother wouldn’t have been proud of that. “Take my hand.” He extended it to you and helped you to your feet.
“I’m so sorry, Teruteru, your food-!” You began to apologize profusely but he cut you off.
“I can always make more. I enjoy making more. Are you alright? You took quite the spill!” He smiled warmly at you. “I shoudln’t have been so… intense earlier. My apologies.”
“Oh I’m fine! It’s okay. But, about the food… are you sure it’s gonna be okay? Can we really make more in time?” He nodded enthusiastically in response. When you beamed back at him, he felt his inside twist into a knot.
He had to stop Nagito tonight. It was decided. He didn’t know how, or the extent of Nagito’s plans, but he couldn’t let him start the killing game with that knife he’d caught him taping under the the dining hall table earlier that morning.
Because… what if Nagito chose you, as his victim?
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andreisvechnikov · 7 months
Text
Andrei Svechnikov: A Primer
written October 5th, 2023
BASICS:
Born 26 March 2000 in Barnaul, Russia
Right winger on the Carolina Hurricanes (who drafted him 2nd overall in 2018)
6’2 and 195 lbs
Andrei’s first and foremost a family oriented person. One of the most important people in his life is his brother, Evgeny. He followed Evgeny everywhere, including to Michigan in 2016, where in juniors he played for the USHL’s Muskegon Lumberjacks; near Grand Rapids where Evgeny was playing for the Red Wings AHL affiliate. Svechnikov led the team in scoring and was named to the All-USHL Team and declared USHL Rookie of the Year. He then was selected first overall by the OHL’s Barrie Colts and later won the Emms Family Award as rookie of the year. After being selected 2nd overall by Carolina, he chose the number 37, the same as his brother.
On their childhood: 
“We didn’t have much money,” Evgeny said of their childhood in Siberian Russia. “We ate from the same plate. We did everything together.” “I’ve waited for this my whole life,” Andrei said, sweat still dripping. “It’s my dream. My dream came true.” “It’s huge,” Evgeny said of both the goal and their relationship. “It’s everything.” “They moved from job to job every city,” Evgeny said. “They sacrificed so much for us.” If you ask Evgeny, there was “no doubt” Andrei would make it from the time he started dominating older competition at 5 years old. Evgeny was 8 when he fostered that opinion. Clearly he was on to something. (X)
The brothers have a special handshake and Evgeny wears a bracelet Andrei gave him everyday.
In the NHL:
Andrei made NHL history being the first player to ever score a lacrosse style goal. Seen here.
And is the only player (so far) to do two successfully.
But he can do tricks off the ice too. His first few years on the Hurricanes, he enjoyed learning magic tricks. Here's one with former beat reporter Sara Civian.
Andrei is loved by many, if not most, current and former teammates, coaches, media, and more. 
Praise from others: 
“I’m just proud of the kid in general,” Brind’Amour said after his first win as coach and Svechnikov’s first point. “He’s a great kid. He wants to learn and he’s got a lot to learn, but he’s going to be a great player in this league. You gotta remember how young he is, and that’s something I have to keep reminding myself. He’s just a kid, and he’s out there in the NHL and he doesn’t look out of place. We’re very fortunate to have him.”
(X)
Former Muskegon Lumberjacks GM John Vanbiesbrouck once told me he didn’t want to drop a bomb too soon, but yeah, he could see hints of Gordie Howe in a young Svechnikov. Vanbiesbrouck was more comfortable with a comparison to Todd Bertuzzi. “You know what? He’s hard to compare to anyone because there’s not a lot of guys like him,” he said after Svechnikov’s NHL debut. “Because sometimes he drives the net or sometimes he’ll see a play. He’s so multi-talented. When he drives the net — Todd Bertuzzi, one of the best net-drivers I’ve ever seen. He’s got an acute way to make plays and find lanes and shoot in place. There’s not a lot of guys like him in that way and how he can play a speed game, then a slowed-down game.”
(X)
“We were just hoping, when we got the pick, that we would get someone who was a star,” Carolina owner Tom Dundon says. “And I think we did.” 
(X)
He is a gem. Always has time for everyone. Can’t wait to see him back in action next season for the canes - Justin Williams
(X)
Here's a snippet of a very heart felt interview the Svechnikov brothers gave before their first match up.
What’s his best quality as a person? Evgeny: Humble. Humble, shyness, respectful. There’s not just one word. But one thing (that) comes in my head, humble and respect(ful), of anything: parents, people around, polite. Just a good kid, man. He’s just a good kid. Andrei: I feel like he’s just a kind person — he’s always going to care about you, he’s always going to ask you if something’s wrong. He’s a culture guy. But obviously he gets a little emotional sometimes (laughter) … He’s gotta work on that a little bit, probably. When have you been the proudest of him? Evgeny: Just one thing? … That he doesn’t let himself get down, and anything happens, nothing stops him. But I think he learned that from me (laughs). And yeah, he doesn’t give up and he keeps going. Nothing bothers him, and he’s like a tractor, just keeps going, and I’m telling you, he learned that from me. Andrei: Every day, to be honest. Every day I am proud of him, to be completely honest. He’s been through a lot, there have been a lot of hard things. He was injured, now he’s here in the show. It’s going to be fun to play against him. I’m proud of him every day. Anything else you want to add about him? Evgeny: That I love him so much. He’s a great brother. Andrei: I don’t know, really — did he say anything interesting? The Athletic: He said he loves you so much and that you’re a great brother. Andrei: I love him so much, too. He is my hero.
Read the rest here.
A big mama's boy. (1)(2)
Friends on the team:
When he first joined the Hurricanes, Andrei became good friends with Dougie Hamilton and Warren Foegele. They all lived in the same building and new to the team. The Hurricanes even made a video of them hanging out and talking about their friendship called the “Three Amigos.”
Even after both Dougie and Warren were traded to other teams, he remains good friends with them. (X)
**Fun fact: Both Dougie and Warren had to pick new numbers with their new teams. Dougie, formerly #19, picked 7, (at the time, Pavel Zacha already took #37) and Warren, formerly #13,  picked 37.
Andrei has always been good friends with alternate captain, Jordan Martinook. Taken under Marty’s wing from the start in 2018 when they both joined the team, Jordan has a pre-game tunnel tradition to scream Andrei’s last name to hype them up. Martinook will occasionally add in other players but he always exaggerates ‘Mista Svechnikov’ the most. Like another older brother figure, Martinook enjoys messing with Andrei in practice and in general.
After Dougie and Warren were traded, Andrei became closer with Martin Necas. Always good friends, they started going out to eat together more and attended the US Open Men’s Final in 2023.
With Seth Jarvis joining the team, Andrei gained the opportunity to be the "big brother" for once. Pulling pranks and messing around with Jarvy.
Another player who’s allowed Andrei the opportunity to grow as a leader on the team is Pyotr Kochetkov, fellow Russian and a goalie. The two have become good friends, Andrei acting as a guide and translator. 
Andrei loves Carolina, and Carolina loves Andrei. One of the many reasons he agreed to an eight-year, $62 million contract with the Hurricanes in 2021.
Andrei has always loved animals. He’s good with both cats and dogs, looking forward to the annual calendar photoshoot, and adopting one of his own in 2023.
Andrei has never met a penalty box he didn’t like.
(1)(2)(3)(4)(5)
“I just love that style. Just hit hard, you know?,” Svechnikov said. “I think I’m playing a hard game, and that’s why I think I’m scoring goals. I’m gonna hit, then I’m gonna go to the offensive zone and someone’s going to give it to me and then I try and shoot it into the net. Good tries for me. I love that style of play.” (X)
He made the 2023 All Star Game, winning the Fastest Skater competition. The first person he called after was his brother.
He suffered a tear in his left ACL a couple months later, and missed the rest of the season and playoffs. However, he had fun sounding the siren and joining his good friends in the broadcast booth. He had a successful surgery and is recovering well, hoping to start the 2023-2024 season on the right foot.
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pommedepersephone · 6 months
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I feel like I'm the only one in the Good Omens fandom who doesn't get the subtext behind the "aim for my mouth but shoot past my ear" quote. Do you have thoughts to share on what it means to you?
Ooooh do I. This is probably one of my favorite lines in all of Good Omens. And that is saying something because I'm one of those with an old dog-eared copy of the book AND the S1 script book, both full of underlines (don't tell Aziraphale, he'd be horrified). So, here is my unhinged passionate explanation of what that line means to me, and how I think it actually applies to multiple moments through S2, specifically moments where there is some kind of performance/deception taking place. I will try to keep this only marginally long, so I will break down the three moments I think are MOST important, and then sum it all up at the end. Ready? Here we go!
What the line means in 1941
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"Aim for my mouth but shoot past my ear" clearly applies to the mechanisms of the bullet catch in S2E4, so let's start there. What does the bullet catch tell us about their relationship? First, they are always being watched. By humans (the audience) but also by their respective sides (in this case Hell). Second, they have to pretend they don’t know each other but still have ways to communicate throughout their charade. Third, they HAVE to trust one another. Like, a LOT because - Fourth, their relationship puts them both in danger.
In this context, the line is really interesting because the idea of aiming for the mouth and shooting past the ear can also be interpreted as speaking and acting in ways that either pacify or confuse those watching, but that clearly communicate to one another. There is SOMETHING about the fact that in the presence of the Nazis Crowley speaks very plainly but in a way only Aziraphale would REALLY understand - “If the bomb does land here, it would take a real miracle for my friend and I to survive it” - yet when they are being watched unaware the line that the Nazis manage to get is “banana, fish, gorilla, shoelace with dash of nutmeg” because never, not even alone, do they speak in a completely straightforward manner. This does not mean they do not communicate, it means they communicate in their own language.
What the line means in Job
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But wait! There is MORE! Because 1941 isn’t the first time we’ve seen these two perform for an audience! "Aim for my mouth but shoot past my ear" also applies in Job. There is one big difference - at the start of the story, Crawley is performing alone. He is saying all the right demonic things - "I want to. I long to destroy the blameless children of blameless Job, just as I destroyed his blameless goats." And at first, Aziraphale is in the audience, unaware of the sleight of hand taking place in front of him. But Crawley offers to read him in by showing him… the crows. And Aziraphale ends up stepping into the roll of magician’s assistant as Crawley works to save Job’s kids, human and otherwise.
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What I find interesting is the way you can think about mouths and ears here - Crawley lets him hear the crows bleat (shoot past my ear) which lets Aziraphale understand who Crawley really is. Then Crawley offers him the ox rib (aim for my mouth) which in some ways makes Aziraphale begin to actually examine who HE is. Both are necessary if they are going to eventually become An Us, and it really starts here, with Job.
What the line means in the Final Fifteen
By the time we get to present-day S2 “Aim for my mouth but shoot past my ear” has taken on such a deep meaning for these two man-shaped beings. Their communication is so rich and layered, where they speak in metaphors and puns and have rituals like the I Was Wrong dance. I mean, just look at this silly little act of love -
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I. Simply. Cannot. These two! They deeply enjoy one another. BUT this very complicated language they have developed together only works when they are ON THE SAME PAGE.
What happens in the Final Fifteen? They stop speaking the same language. For the sake of this analysis, we are assuming that Aziraphale is feeling threatened, and is aware that Metatron has ill intent, okay? Okay. In that context… just like 1941, they are AGAIN being watched (this time by Heaven), pretending they don’t know certain things about each other, need to trust each other and their relationship has put them in danger. But here is the kicker - they have slipped back into their roles from the start of Job, except reversed. They don’t have the same information and awareness. Fell the Marvelous is desperately putting on the performance of his life, and Crowley doesn’t even know they are on stage. There was no time for a backroom conversation to discuss the finer points of the trick. In the end, Crowley decides “fuck shooting past your ear, you aren’t hearing me."
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And in the MOST devastating way possible, these two aimed for the mouth and shot right past each other's ears. Ouch. OUCH.
*Clears throat, dries eyes* in summary, this little line of poetry does a heavy lift for S2. It applies to scenes where a performance/sleight of hand is taking place, but it reads differently in each one. Importantly, "Aim for my mouth but shoot past my ear" only works out when they are properly partnering not pretendy partnering. If there is information withheld, or they aren't in agreement (this applies to Edinburgh toooooo) things just implode. They have to have TRUST for this to work.
Just in case I seem even remotely normal at this point, here is the little poem I wrote after watching S2 the first time, as the brainrot started to take real hold:
aim for my mouth and shoot past my ear
tell me the lines but show me your eyes
so i learn how hearts can hide truth in lies
here beside you
aim for my mouth and shoot past my ear
i promise to burn you if you hold the match
you walk through fire but i'll turn to ash
a shade grey for you
aim for my mouth and shoot past my ear
show me the words i can't seem to hear
give me something to hold as i go through my fear
and here return to you
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assiraphales · 7 months
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you havent really been liveblogging your one piece experience much, but since you seem to be through Alabasta at this i was wondering if youd be willing to share any thoughts about the series so far/your takes on the characters in their original forms?
-luffy is a little gremlin who was fed after midnight but stayed cute. 10000 points in mischief. has THE biggest heart and would die for a stranger if he thought it was a worthy cause. much more intelligent (in an unconventional way) than he's given credit for. figuring out crocodile's weakness almost immediately?? hello??
-i like how all the crew mates have different (but very valuable and nourishing) relationships with each other. usopp n luffy's is very sweet because they're still kids at heart (and probably always will be, at least a little) who live by their imaginations and for fun/joy. zoro washing chopper in the bathhouse. usopp and nami being voices of reason for very different reasons, usopp making her a weapon bc she admitted one of her weaknesses to him. nami's love for luffy coming out in concern and sternness because she knows what he's capable of but also how hard he can fall
-some of the emotional moments that affected me the most; nami getting a tattoo for belle mere, nokijo, and genzo. pell sacrificing his life for alabasta and flying the bomb into the sky. sanji n zeff's relationship.
-klahadore is the biggest lil bitch thus far. but shout out to his kitty cat crew for supporting him and trying not to deadname him
-really liked the mihawk fight bc even tho zoro got WHOOPED mihawk was clearly impressed, and let him live for a reason. he also said after watching luffy and zoro together that they were a good team. which.
-luffy and zoro making each other better and worse (depending on how u look at it) and the crew just having to accept that "ok yah. that's their relationship. they're crazy bastards who enable each other and they're dreams are entwined."
-zoro being a secret goofball. I could go on about it. but one of my favorite small moments was when he told the usopp pirates that they were cannibals and ate usopp
-nami has such big dreams but she's so scared to get her heartbroken again. she lost her mom, she thought she lost her town and sister when she went along with arlong..... everything is a defense mechanism. she's a survivor. and she's so hurt. but everyday, from the crew's love to luffy's kindness, she's learning to accept that the world isn't that bleak. that good people exist
-ace's tattoo. um. JUMPSCARE. but he is neat and loves luffy lots
-tony tony chopper I would die for u. kureha is an icon and now I totally understand why people want jamie lee curtis to play her
-i'm glad that luffy n co were able to heal the giants relationship on little garden and now they're broskis who can fight n drink together without worrying about the whole "TO DEATH!!!" thing. zoro trying to chop off his legs and then posing so that he'd look cool if he died is another notable highlight from that arc
-princess vivi and nami. I know what u are. but in all seriousness she was just sixteen and infiltrated a secret assassin organization for her kingdom!!! I love that she had igaram pose for her so she could say goodbye to the strawhat crew properly
-there's just so many good people trying to do the right thing in the face of massive adversity. no matter what the odds, they'll fight to their last breath for what they believe in. and if luffy's there, he'll make sure they don't have to (die, that is)
-luffy managing to befriend the weirdest animals that want to kill him and them eventually saving him (the lapins and the kung fu dungongs)
-luffy asking zoro to save smoker's life because he couldn't swim, and smoker letting luffy go instead of arresting him so he could try and save alabasta
-sanji smoking cigarettes in the middle of a fight and constantly wearing a suit for Aesthetics
-mihawk hunting down the red haired pirates in his coffin throne boat just to show shanks the bounty on luffy's head (also way to go bestie getting it up from 30 million to 100 million in like two weeks)
-zoro sleeping everywhere but mostly near the rest of the crew so he can eavesdrop / be close to them
-the straw hat crew being a bunch of wild animal ragers and turning any event into a PARTAAYYYYY
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persesphonestears · 1 year
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Hello hope you are having a good day/night
I was wondering if I could request the 141 tf (and a lil Ghost) x M reader, where a mission doesn't go as planned and reader gets separated from the team, the team have to leave reader behind who has already mapped out a route back to base but it could take a couple days. A couple days of little to no food or water and an open wound they told no one about so as not to be a burden but know the risk of infection is high.
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Request fill! A little Ghost x Reader action
A/N: HI! Thank you so much for requesting! you genuinely have no idea what it means to me I'm actually so excited to be able to write this for you! I also literally love you now btw
So a little background for the story, Ghost and reader aren't yet in a relationship but are very clearly pining over each other(sorta), Reader has also been a part of the 141 for a good while and has a really good family dynamic with the team!! 
C/W: angst(?), gore, mentions of torture(reader), reader doubts 141, reader gets a major injuries(But its not super talked about), reader’s wounds get infected, Ghost and reader pining for each other at the end but doesn’t actually(technically) get together , also use of y/n and c/s(Call Sign), if there’s anymore lemme know
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This was meant to be an easy and a ‘get in get out' mission. How did everything go to shit so quickly?
The 141 moved in to go investigate the small town. Lasswel sent in information to Price a couple days earlier saying some important intel had somehow fallen into the hands of the wrong people and they had to retrieve it. Hopefully as well in the process figure out how the intel got into their hands.
“Everyone move in go” Price was heard through their comms, Everyone starting to move in when a loud noise and force sent the group of highly trained men forwards. “WHAT THE BLOODY FUCK WAS THAT?!” Price yelled into his comms, everyone could hear the distress in his voice. How'd they know the 141 was going to be there.
“Bomb sir! They must know we're her-” The Scotsman was cut off by the rain of bullets that was sent out. Throughout the rain of fire more explosives went off effectively getting 4 of the SAS group to stay together while one was separated.
“Everyone here?” A gruff British accent called out into his comms, looking around throughout the bullets and dust of the battle ground. “SIR I DON'T SEE C/S ANYWHERE!” Gaz screamed out, looking around frantically. Price looked at his team, a grave look on his face as he spoke, “We have to leave. We'll get c/s back you know we don't leave each other behind but going in there right now will get all of us killed” They went off. Not before Ghost stopped giving another look around, concern evident in his eyes, as he looked around for his other teammate.
-time skip- 
<Your POV>
Everything hurts. My head was throbbing. My arms were stuck above my head, cold metal digging into my skin. Opening my eyes, unsurprisingly to see a damp, gloomy, musty and uncomfortable room. No windows, and a single light hanging from the roof and a total of four high up holes in the wall, out of reach. Even if I wasn’t tied up.
“Well we'll look who's awake” My eyes concentrate onto a silhouette outside of the metal bars in front of me. “You've been out for a long time you know, Thought your own body would kill you before we got a chance to talk.” He chuckles as he walks into my view. Walking into the cell he gets closer to my face. Looking away as to not continue looking at him. Grabbing my chin and forcing me to look at him. “Now why don't you tell me the rest of the information I need, hm? won't you be a good boy and tell me what i need to know.”
“Go to hell, dirtbag” I scoff, shaking my head away from his grip. Sometimes I wish I kept my mouth shut. A scream ripped out of my throat. Tears building up in my eyes, the pain shooting up from my leg, the gruelling feel of the knife twisting into my flesh. 
Why haven't they come for me yet? I don't want to have to do this for god knows how long. “Common, just tell me what I want. You do that, this'll stop you know. Just work with me here.” Smirking at me, he realised I wasn't going to be giving up anything that he wanted to know.
And so he just continued. The stabbing, The burning, the Jesus, everything. The more screams that came out of my mouth instead of the information he wanted angered him more. It wouldn't stop. He wouldn't stop. Neither would my screams. The screams that seemed to just egg him on. 
And so he continued, gladly at that. Giving me the minimal amount of water to make sure I wouldn’t pass out from dehydration. He was loving it. Coming in every minute he had the time to torture me. Mercilessly, he just won’t stop.
Surely my team, Ghost at least, Ghost has to come get me soon. It’s Ghost, he’s the best out of us. He’ll be able to find me. I know he will. He has too! I mean it’s Ghost, Ghost will save me, He’ll be worried and he’ll rescue me.
-very lil baby skip-
He hasn’t come for me. No one has. The torture has continued. I’m pretty sure I’ve gained some lovely new permanent scars. Everywhere. Being stripped down to my tank and boxers, forcing the harsh weather to have more of an effect on my body then it may have been.
I can’t do this anymore. Every plan I’ve tried so far has failed. There's been absolutely no signs or showings of the 141. They still haven’t come for me. I’m so tired. How could they do this to me? Ghost. Ghost out of all people, out of everyone he hasn’t come for me. I thought maybe he would’ve- no it doesn’t matter.
The creaking and screeching of doors opening, revealing the person I would least like to see. “How’s my little rat doing, hm? You don’t look so good, now do you?” laughing at his seemingly hilarious joke. Looking away from him, I’m not giving anything he wants. Despite losing faith in his team, he wasn’t going to ruin his reputation in the SAS.
Keeping my mouth shut, of course angers him. I think if I spoke back it would’ve angered him. So surprise surprise grabbing my chin, making me look at his grossly greasy face, the evil smirk gracing (if you could say that) his ugly mug. “You make this so fun for me, you know that?” He chuckles. For fucks sake. Here we go again.
-another time skip(sorry i'm lazy and don't want this so be too long)-
<No one's/3rd Person POV>
Without y/n’s knowledge Ghost was screaming at everyone and everything. He was so stressed. He didn’t know if you were alive, if you were okay, if you had gotten out. After getting separated from you they couldn’t find you. Of course filing you M.I.A for the time being. The reality of the situation setting on even harder for Ghost as he had to read your file, the addition of the daunting letters gracing your profile sent him into a frenzy.
He was snappy, angry, stressed, short tempered and all of the above. He couldn’t get any information on where you might be and it was absolutely driving him absolutely insane. Soap, Gaz and even Price weren't able to help him calm down. They themselves were stressed. Worried for your well being. No one had been able to get into contact with you. Even Lasswel had tried getting information on where you might be or even where the people who had taken you may have ended up.
Everyone and anyone were walking on eggshells around the stressed four men. Though no one dared to go close to Ghost, he hadn’t been sleeping, eating, or keeping himself healthy. Not only were you not there to keep him sane, you weren’t there to remind him. To bring him tea made the exact way he liked it. Not finding his favourite sweets on his desk with a sticky note teasing him about being dark and gloomy but loving bright and overly sugary sweets. He hadn’t realised how much you kept him sane. How much your being made him okay, How much you made him feel like Simon again.
It'd have to have been over a month or two. Though within that month or so here y/n stood, bloodied and bruised. Severe wounds littered his body as he limped through the bloodied halls of where he was once locked up in. Shrugging the last body of dead weight off of him, after stealing someone's clothes. Surprisingly not wanting to find out how to leave here while in his raggedy tank top and his boxers. Fiddling with the keys he found, continuing to limp throughout this god awful place.
Finally navigating his way out, seeing the sun for the first time in what truly felt months, years even. Being tortured every second of being down there, with i cleaned blades, dirty bloody kitchen tools, seemingly anything and everything unclean they could find. Effectively forcing most if not all wounds to become infected.
His body is wasting away, no food and the smallest amount of water to keep him alive. Continuing to walk or limp his way through wherever this shitty place is. Finding a car while limping to the car, finding the keys in his pants, trying them on the car, not believing his luck when it opens. 
Driving, non stop till he finally saw the bloody annoying colours of the barracks he called his home. The soldiers taking watch noticed immediately of the unidentified car coming to their quarters. The 141 run out wondering what's going on, seeing the car, they grab their guns and aim it at the car. Everyone else yelling out at the person to get out of the car. The door opens to reveal none other than their missing teammate. Ghost stood there frozen. Not only were you alive, you got out of there yourself.
Ghost running over to you after breaking out of his shock. He grabbed you and pulled you into his arms. Holding you up as you finally let tears fall, knees buckling under your weight as you held onto Ghost, your Ghost for what felt like your life depended on it. “Are you okay, Love? Holy shit I thought you were dead. We couldn’t find you, I’m so so sorry Darling’” He whispered to you as he carried you to the medic centre. The 141 following a good few feet away.
Placing you down on a bed, pulling off his mask, chuckling at the shock on your sunken eyes. Placing a kiss on your forehead he whispered sweet nothings to you as you used him as a personal heater. A know on your door pulling you away from your moment with Ghost, in walked Price, Gaz and Soap. “Glad yer’ ‘right” Soap spoke softly, giving you a fist bump, “We’re so proud of you kid.” Price’s moustache twitched upwards as he looked down at you. “Yeah like holy shit dude! You got out of there by yourself! You gotta tell us all about it!” Laughing softly at Gaz’s way of making you feel better.
Not only could they see how worn out and just purely unwell you were, they couldn’t help but feel their heart well at the smiles and chuckles you gave while speaking to them. The same goes with you. You could see all of them, the worry and relief of seeing you safe and okay being in front of them. Seeing Ghost, the most dishevelled out of the four men standing above the medical bed, was like having everything bad that had happened to you become better, knowing he did try and you did mean something to him.
After the other three left, Ghost sat, with his mask back on, as you got hooked up to fluids and held your hand while getting your wounds cleaned, and unfortunately the deep clean as most of your wounds had deep and good infections so a good and thorough clean was needed.  Once it was again just you and Ghost, his mask back off. Both men smiling softly at one another. “You're getting sleepy there darling” Ghost chuckled standing up and pulled the covers over you, again kissing your forehead.
“Ghost?” “Hm?” Ghost turning around, and chuckled at you, arms out, waiting expectantly for a hug from the big and scary stoic man. Giving in, he lent down and carefully hugged you. Leaning back up slowly you looked up at him and let out in a soft whisper “Stay with me? Please?” And without a second thought he grabbed a spare blanket and sat down next to you. “Get some sleep. You need it. And before you argue, that’s an order.” chuckling at him and cuddling up with the blanket you closed your eyes, safe, hydrated and a full stomach, but most importantly with Ghost.
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A/N: I'm probably gonna make a part two if you guys want one! I really love stories like this and stuff, with like with the angst, i like pain🫶
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bringthekaos · 3 months
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I love your interpretations of Jayce and Viktor, so in your expert opinion, which is the best way that they first get together?
A- they're adults about it and one asks the other out for supper (yeah right)
B- after months/years of pining, one breaks spectacularly and kisses the other without warning
C- the sexual tension gets so palpable they both break at the same time and throw themselves at each other like horny wild animals
D- one has a function brain cell and decides to blantantky seduce the other, results vary
Hmmmmmm juicy juicy question.
I think we all know it wouldn’t be A. The boys are too emotionally constipated 🤣
I think definitely option B. Perhaps with a dash of D (haha dick joke).
When I started my Our Hextech Dream series, I had Jayce make the first move. And while I love how I wrote it, with Jayce unable to keep his hands off of Viktor, if I had to go back and write it again, I think I might change things up. I think Jayce would be head over heels infatuated, but terrified to make a move. He’s unsure, he thinks maybe he’s misinterpreting Viktor’s signals (when in reality a bomb would be more subtle than Viktor’s ‘signals.’) He values what they have, their camaraderie and working relationship; they flow so well together, it’s like their minds are connected. They finish each other’s sandwiches sentences, they move around each other in the lab like a practiced waltz. And Jayce doesn’t want to ruin that, doesn’t want to risk the beautiful synergy they already have.
Meanwhile Viktor is very aware of Jayce’s attraction, can see him staring out the corner of his eye, can note the way Jayce’s breath catches when Viktor softly speaks his name. He’s noticed the lingering touches, the lingering gazes, and on more than one occasion, Jayce biting his lip when Viktor speaks in his mother tongue. He knows, but he’s unsure as well—why hasn’t Jayce acted? Yes, such a thing could complicate their work on Hextech, but clearly Jayce’s feelings are getting in the way of that anyway; he’s making more errors, fumbling more calculations, and all because he’s so busy gazing at Viktor like he hung the stars.
So Viktor decides to lay it on thick—throwing everything he’s got at Jayce in an attempt to make him break, make him finally admit. He initiates an assault of playful physical touches, starts using endearments in their conversations. And he gets a sickly sweet satisfaction from watching as these things slowly drive Jayce mad with want…
Yet still he doesn’t break. So Viktor starts getting frustrated too, takes it as a personal challenge. And one day it all comes to a head. Jayce is already frazzled, as Viktor had called him darling when he’d brought over two steaming mugs of coffee. And when he’d reached out to offer Viktor one of the mugs, Viktor paused to cup his hand, soothing his thumb back and forth over Jayce’s knuckles in a gesture of gratitude and offering up what he knows to be one of his most devilishly coy smiles. Jayce loses his breath like he’s been shot, but instead of saying anything, he just turns for the chalkboard and begins hurriedly erasing their work from the previous day. He mumbles about whatever project they’re working on, but clearly he’s distracted and anxious—he keeps losing his train of thought and his hands tremble so badly that he ends up breaking the stick of chalk in half in his fervor.
And that’s it, that’s all Viktor can take.
He grumbles a painfully fond “you idiot,” and storms over, hardly slowing the momentum of his body before crashing against Jayce and slamming their lips together.
Jayce lets out a squeak of surprise into Viktor’s mouth, but instantly gives in—that shock turning to wanton, pitiful need that rumbles as a low whimper in his throat. Viktor isn’t sure how long they stay like this, lips claiming lips and tongues claiming tongues, but by the time they separate he’s breathless and dizzy. And Jayce appears equally affected—a dopey grin on his face and a wobble in his knees.
“You are impossible,” Viktor barks, shaking his head in disbelief. “I’ve been trying to get you to do that for months.”
Ugghhh what a fun ask. Would love to hear how everyone else thinks it would go down!
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yanderes-galore · 1 year
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Yandere joker x hero reader like reader used to work for the Justice League with Batman
Sure! The version of Joker is kept general. Heavily implied to be from the general comics, though. I haven't written for Joker in years so I hope he's in character :)
Yandere! Joker with Hero! Darling
Pairing: Romantic
Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Sadism, Torture mention, Unstable mental health, Manipulation, Blackmail, Obsession, Delusional behavior, Kidnapping mention, Jealousy, Murder mention, Vague "relationship".
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It's hard to get a proper personality for Joker when writing his character, as he is described as "unpredictable".
If you were a hero that used to work for the Justice League alongside Batman, he takes sadistic joy in this.
You knew Bats!? Well, then you'll get along just fine!
He's probably going to hunt you down as you know his pal so well.
Finding peace after retiring from hero work, or even being a hero still is nearly impossible.
No, now you're going to have to deal with the plague known as Joker.
He gets so upset when you contact Batman about him.
Him coming to see you is supposed to be private!
He probably met you when you helped Batman capture him once.
You're not like those Robins he carries around.
No, you're much more fun!
It's then that the Joker sets his sights on you.
You'll be trying to do your own thing and the clown prince himself barges in like he knows you personally.
"Hey there, doll! Mind if I join you?"
He usually addresses you by some sort of nickname based on your alias and makes himself at home wherever.
He becomes more and more troublesome as time goes on.
You already saw him as a threat, the feeling intensifying whenever he tries to physically touch you.
He makes it a goal to become closer and invade your privacy and mind.
His laugh echoes in your ears and you find him an annoyance.
You're very confused as to why he's so friendly with you.
Batman shares the same confusion.
You have an effect on him.
Joker comments with disappointment that whenever you call Batman for help, it's as if you're treating Bats as his babysitter.
"Come on, dear! We're all adults here aren't we? Why can't we have any fun without a supervisor?"
He will soon get tired of you crying to Batman when he's around.
It's best not to flare his temper.
Joker would find a lot of joy in playing around with a hero! darling.
You are great to use as leverage against Batman and he loves the idea of tainting your mind.
Joker would kidnap you and he'd kill for you, when he will is unknown.
The entirety of the clown prince is a game of chance.
He's nearly impossible to read and is a bomb waiting to explode when around you.
There's no doubt he gets jealous of other heroes or civilians around you.
Which leads to murder... that part is somewhat predictable.
He'd hurt you and find it funny.
He seems like the type to toy with his darling.
Although, he probably has a soft spot for you
He knows he can't kill you, no, he needs you.
Instead he relishes in the idea of tormenting you and making you rely on him.
Although, that isn't always his motive.
Joker does like your smile and laugh....
A pleasant sound and a sight for sore eyes.
A delightful counterpart to his haunting laugh and grin.
The Joker has a soft spot for you which can be used, both for and against you.
You can lure him in for capture.
That or the Joker can make how he feels about you known to blackmail you.
If you don't play his game many could get hurt.
You're too soft to want that, right?
He'd break into your home easily, just to greet you with a playful yet deranged smile.
"Looks so boring in here... how about some company?"
He probably likes to feel your touch.
He's insane but he'd probably be touchstarved.
He's seen crying in the comics on the laps of flings or Harley so he's clearly unstable.
He'd do the same to you with no warning.
Joker likes the idea of playing with a hero's emotions and bringing them to their knees.
But he also genuinely craves your affection.
To you, Joker is a disease.
He plagues Gotham and should be Batman's problem.
So why did you have to be wrapped up in the clown prince problem?
The Joker is a parasite to you, clinging to you and refusing to let go.
You're cursed with him and soon... no one will be able to help you.
"Why so quiet? Come on, where's that laugh? Don't be such a downer like Bats, dear... he's such a bore!"
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