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satoruschapstic · 1 year

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add it to my notes ♡

you got so used to seeing kento nanami's heartfelt smile when he was around but do you know you are the only one who's lucky enough to see it?

pairing: kento nanami x fem!reader

content: friends to lovers, fluff, mutual pining, kento being the sweetest he is, mentions of alcohol, mentions of satoru (🕺)

a/n: i just love him so much, it hurts on every level of my existence. everyone deserves a man like him </3 all the mistakes are mine, don't judge me pls, anyways hope you enjoy <3

You've never had a friend like this. Never. And you've never experienced such boundless support, requiring nothing in return. He’s just there for you all the time. A shoulder to cry on, a hand to hold on to, ears to whisper your craziest ideas into. You always return the favor though. But it’s impossible sometimes not to take advantage of his kindness. Yes, you get him wrapped around your finger. But he doesn't mind, does he?

Kento Nanami has always been more of a man of action; he's not into idle chatter type of guy. He believes that actions speak louder than words. That applies not only to his family, his lovers but to you as well. Perhaps that's why he is such a great friend, the best one, actually. There was never a time when he would have turned you down for having "a late-night snack" at three in the morning at some godforsaken diner. No matter how much he would have rambled on the road and rolled his eyes when you happily turned music on in his car, he’d never say no to you. Once he was quietly waiting for you in a salon when you wanted something new to be done to your hair, lazily flipping the pages of a magazine. You just wanted someone to talk to, so there he was, listening to your rumbles about your annoying colleagues for four hours straight. And he never lied to you; he swore he really did like your hair. Even when you cried when the hairdresser cut off more centimeters than you initially planned, and it didn't look in a slightest as it did in your head. You should give credit to him, cause he somehow managed to convince you that it wasn't bad at all, maybe even better than it should have been.

What made your friendship even more precious is that there were never any secrets between the two of you. You knew every single detail about all his failed attempts to build some kind of a romantic relationship, and he was aware of your struggles to find the man of your dreams. After you broke up with your ex, it was him who wrapped you in a blanket, kissing the crown of your head, offering you your favorite dessert. And you helped him move into his new place, arranging his tastefully chosen furniture in the spacious kitchen. You always watered the flowers when he forgot about them, too immersed in his work.

But something changed one day, something clicked in your head, making you look at everything from a different perspective. It was one chilly fall evening, when the wind was mercilessly tearing the remnants of leaves from the branches of already half-naked trees. But you didn’t think much of it, really; you were getting ready for a date with a young man you had met online. You had been talking for enough time to finally set up a meeting. Your gut was telling you that he could be the one. And that’s actually how you learned not to trust your gut. Ever again.

You picked out your best dress, some jewelry and styled your hair. Kento was with you the whole time, being his usual self and giving you advice, on what to say on the first date, and what you should keep to yourself, as if he was one of these couches from cheap tabloids. He was as serious as ever, hiding a small smile behind a mug of hot tea when you tried to make him laugh by mimicking Gojo. You were in high spirits that evening and as you spun around in front of the mirror, you failed to notice how his face changed just a tiny bit. His eyes faded for a good second and the corners of his lips drooped as he looked your small figure dancing using a hairbrush as a microphone. Something turned shifted inside him when he imagined someone else's hands around your waist. But he couldn't let his possessiveness get the better of him, so he just swallowed his pride.

When you were ready, Kento politely agreed to drop you off at the restaurant where you had a date with your soon-to-be-boyfriend. He smiled one last time as you got out of the car, wishing you good luck and offering a few compliments to assure you that you indeed looked flawless. He followed you with a stern look till the moment your silhouette hid inside the building. He was watching your every move through his dark-green glasses that were resting on the bridge of his nose. He stayed there for a few more minutes before pulling away and disappearing around the corner.

You were full of hopes that night. Oh god you were. But they didn't come true. He didn't show up. You stayed there all evening, drinking only a glass of wine and looking at the door every time someone came in. Staying one more second there alone and feeling the pityful stares of the waiters on your back was way too humiliating. The only thing that went through your mind that moment was to call your best friend and ask him to be your savior once more.

Kento was there ten minutes later. He was standing with his back pressed against his car, hands in the pockets of his black coat; the collar was up, hiding him from the piercing wind. Kento turned his head in your direction, hearing either the click of your heels on the sidewalk or the clatter of your teeth as you walked toward him in your thin dress, your head pressed into your shoulders, vainly hoping to keep warm. Your lips trembled slightly, holding back the sobs that threatened to come out. His heart clenched when he saw how small, fragile and distressed you looked then. He thought that if he touched you, you would shatter into a hundred little pieces. As you approached his tall figure, you threw yourself into his arms, pressing your head against his chest, having no strength to hold back any longer. His strong arms swiftly encased your waist, wrapping you in the fabrics of his coat to keep you warm.

“What happened y/n?”, he asked quietly, holding you closer to his chest. “Let’s get in the car, we can talk inside, I don’t want you to get cold”.

"Can we just stay like this for a few moments please?", you muttered, burying your nose deeper into his sweater.

Kento simply nodded, snuggling you even closer and kissing the top of your head. You remained silent for a few more minutes before he stated quietly, "You deserve so much better, you know".

The words came out so slowly, as if he was deciding to the last minute whether he should say all the things he longed to tell you.

"Your love will find you eventually, someone who'll cherish every single moment spent with you, who'll make you laugh by singing along to your favorite songs into your imaginary microphone".

You froze for a few seconds, not knowing how to react, before looking up and asking quietly, "Really?”. Your faces were inches from each other. The close proximity to you and your hot breath on his face were driving him crazy. His eyes ran frantically from your eyes to your lips, when he whispered a soft "really". It was almost ridiculous how gentle and delicate his movements were compared to his calloused hands, which so gently covered your cheek, wiping a trail of tears with his big thumb. And this soppy phrase from your favorite movie ran through his mind, "If you love, you have to say it right away, and loudly, or else this moment will pass". And it did seem to have passed, when he noticed how you avert your gaze with embarrassment. Kento cleared his throat, trying to swallow the lump of thousands of unsaid words, and with feigned confidence continued, "Let's take you home, darling. Get in, you’re freezing." He gently released you from his embrace, opening the car’s door. The drive home was unbearably long for the two of you. For you because you didn’t even know what you truly felt at that time, maybe you were just too overwhelmed to think straight. For him because he couldn't find the strength to make a move, and he thought he had ruined everything.

You’d lie if you say you never thought about him in a romantic kinda way. But you were somehow sure that he wouldn’t reciprocate. So you just resigned yourself to the idea that he was just your best friend. It was better than losing everything in one moment by making the wrong move anyways. This how that evening ended: with you being deep in your thoughts, when you thanked him for everything and headed towards apartment; and him cursing under his breath and pressing his forehead against the steering wheel.

A couple of months passed since that very evening. You both tried to keep it cool like the grown-ups you both were. If pretending that everything’s alright was a competition, you guys’d take the first place. You had been weighing the pros and cons for a long time, trying to figure out if it was worth bringing up the past and going back to that conversation. But you decided to go with the flow. And you just went on as if nothing had happened: spending time with each other, going groceries, etc, etc. Everything was the same as always. Or so it seemed. Kento started leaving a little earlier than usual. And you started skipping your dinners together now and then, dreading the awkward pauses.

That’s how you find yourself in this very situation – in the middle of the dancefloor with Satoru Gojo himself. Yes, Kento Nanami is perfect in every aspect, he is, indeed. But there's one thing Kento has never been good at – partying. He would have preferred to stay home and spend the evening in his quiet apartment, without blasting music and cheap liquor. You though haven’t had fun for as it feels like years. You don’t exactly remember how you end up on the dancefloor, dancing for your dear life with Satoru by your side. But what you do remember is a very suspicious amount of shots you both have drunk.

Your choice fell on Satoru because he's the only who definitely has some moves to show to others. He knows he's an expert at partying, and you'd rather not argue.

You can no longer feel your legs after he has you dancing in the middle of the crowd. Hoping to take a break and order another cocktail, you head to the bar. The white-haired guy follows at your heels, picking you up by the elbow just in time when you tangle in your legs and your face gets dangerously close to the floor.

“I'm fine”, you smile drunkenly, taking your seat on the high bar stool, “but thank you, you’re indeed very quick”. You pat him on the shoulder, while ordering a drink in the meantime.

Satoru gestures to the waiter that he’d better not serve you any more drinks.

“Hey, I thought we were here to relax”. You tug on his arm, “Just one more cocktail won’t hurt”.

“I think you've had enough for tonight, Miss I-Conquer-Any-Party. You've outdone yourself that's for sure; it's time for you to go home, sweets.” He says the words very slowly, obviously overpowering himself so he doesn't seem so drunk.

“Satoooru”, you're deliberately elongating the "o" sound; “you do realize that sending me home alone in this state is just reckless, don’t you.” You giggle, leaving no doubt that you're telling the absolute truth. “And if the two of us go, you won't be any more helpful than I am alone”.

He raises his index finger to object, but then gives up.

“That's why I called your second favorite – Nanami; he'll meet you downstairs and take you home.”

“Bold of you to assume that you’re my first favorite”, you remark sarcastically.

“Bold of you to argue with that”, he retorts, smirking at you.

“Whatever, you’re not coming with us?” you raise your eyebrow questioningly.

“I still have a few unfinished things to do here”, he smiles lazily. “I don't think everyone has seen what I'm capable of yet.” He flicks his eyebrows playfully, making you laugh.

And as much as you'd like to see Satoru in action, even more you'd want to see Kento now. You'll find out about Gojo's antics from someone's tik-tok tomorrow morning anyway.

And just like that, you say goodbye to the blue-eyed guy and head to the exit, where Kento's car is already parked, waiting only for you.

“Helloooo”, you chant before plopping down next to him in the passenger seat. Thank you for getting me out of here, Nanamin," you spell it out, smiling slyly, already anticipating his reaction.

“Don't call me that”, he smiles, “but hello to you, too.”

“Gotta remember that”, you laugh, “I'll add it to my notes.”

He smiles softly as he moves closer and fastens his seatbelt on you.

“Wow, a real princess treatment”, you giggle, mesmerized as you watch the deft movements of his hands.

“That's right, princess treatment for a true princess”, he sits up straight and drives off, not giving you a chance to notice the blush on his cheeks.

“You're so nice...“ you begin softly, "very, very, very nice. And caring. And kind. And... I don't know you always help me out. Why is that?” You tilt your head, looking at his face.

He hesitates for a few moments before answering quietly. “Because I'm your best friend?”, he stops outside your house, and finally finds the strength to meet your gaze again.

“The best”, you whisper, “and also extremely handsome.” You reach out to him and gently caress his cheek. “Damn, you’re so handsome. Why didn't I tell you this before?”

You look lovingly at his face while slowly stroking his cheekbone with your thumb, pausing only when his lips get all of your attention. You move closer, stopping just a second before your lips meet. He's trying to keep his composure and you're desperate, he's trying to stay sane and you're so drunk in love. You chase each other's lips before merging into a sweet kiss. He is gentle and slow. You are needy and putty, brought to the edge just by the feeling of his lips on yours. You taste like alcohol and desire; he tastes like mint and hope. His hand finally finds its place on the back of your neck bringing you closer, while the other gently caresses your side. You run your fingers through his hair winning a low groan slipping through his lips into your mouth. He fights the urge to mess everything up and keep kissing you as if his life depends on it. But he's a gentleman after all, so he does pull away, leaving you breathless and confused by his sudden change.

“What's wrong, Kento?” you ask him hesitantly. “I thought the feeling was mutual”, you furrow your brows, while moving a little farther away from him. “Or did I just make it up?”

“You did not”, he replies simply. “I just don't want to make it even more complicated than it already is,” he runs his hands gently over your cheek, and then tucks your hair behind your ear. “You probably won't even remember any of it by tomorrow, y/n”, he chuckles sadly.

"And what if I try my best? But I have to add it to my notes just to be sure," you grin before giving him one more kiss on the lips. And this time he won't pull away that fast. He's a gentleman but not a fool you know.

#extremely self-indulgent #i have no excuse #kento nanami #jujutsu nanami #nanami kento #jjk x reader #jjk headcanons #jjk #jujutsu kaisen nanami #nanami x reader #jjk satoru #satoru gojo #satoruschapstic #nanami x you #nanami brainrot #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #jujutsu gojo

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galedekarios · 7 months

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"i thought you dead… but ilmater protected you, returned you to me."

#this is just for me #extremely self-indulgent #but #i love them so much #what if we were both clerics and i nursed you back to health after you escaped from the underdark and showed you #how life can be so much more than cruelty and fear #what if we were tragically separated when the nautiloid attacked but we fought to find our way back to each other #what if what if #>-Io #otp: battered and wrecked i come to you first #ch: altonaufein #ch: karl eifers #vg: baldur's gate 3 #series: baldur's gate #gif: mybg3

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lightsoutmotel · 10 months

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REPAYMENT WITH INTEREST. — m!Avery x gender neutral reader.

Description — Your dad takes care of you. All you want to do is show a little gratitude.

Content Warnings — Incest, daddy kink, reader has a cunt, unprotected sex, mild dubcon (reader surprises Avery with being forward but he ends up being into it)

Word Count — 2288

Getting your dad's attention has always been hard. It's a competition between his work and you, you and his work, and you are more of a fixed point in his life than the whimsy of the stock market, so he expects you to always be right where you're supposed to be. Occupied with your diversions except for when it's dinnertime, vacation time, or the odd occasion when he lets you join him for a social function.

It's the last one that you like best.

At first, you thought it was because of how exciting it is to go where all the beautiful, powerful people play, surrounded by glamour and excess. It's almost always nicer than going to school or work.

But in actuality, there's always one moment you return to: your fixed point in your relationship with him.

You were just being cute, hanging onto his arm with your head leaned against him; one of your not-so-subtle tells that you're finished for the night and want to go back to the hotel room. The conversation he was caught in kept dragging on and you knew better than to interrupt.

Someone else did that for you, though, slipping into the conversational circle with lighthearted greetings, and you offered whoever it was a polite smile that showed your tiredness around the eyes.

"Aren't you a sleepy thing," this new person observed with a laugh. "Avery, you should be spiriting your partner away to bed, don't you think?"

The question left your heart feeling so light in your chest it woke you up with a jolt. Your cheeks warmed and you couldn't think of a word to say in response. Your father, on the other hand, you could feel tensing.

"This is my child, actually. Not my partner," he responded in a well-practiced casual tone. He omitted mentioning that his wife, your mother, had died, and he would rather take his child along for a night out as a treat than attend alone.

Silence followed, awkward and uncomfortable for a couple beats before apologies spilled forth. Your dad waved things off, clearly eager to get past that social hiccup, and so it left you alone in thinking about what just happened.

Things played out normally that night, for the most part. You both left for the hotel, said good night, and settled into your respective rooms in the suite to settle in.

You were awake in bed, eyes on the ceiling, thinking about your dad. Obsessing over him. Thinking of how muscular his arm felt under your hands, the scent of his cologne, how confident he was. Heat stirred in your stomach and it was the first time you touched yourself to the thought of your dad's hands on your skin.

Certainly not the last, though.

And that's what brings you to him tonight, wearing something a little bold, a little daring that you bought with his money to show off what, exactly, he's been investing in. Distance made your heart grow desperate so that kicked off your impulse to catch him when he returned from a business trip.

You haven't seen each other in two weeks but you see him now, suit jacket slung over a chair in the home bar, whiskey in hand, the shadow of stubble on his lip and jaw and you can imagine the way it would catch on your fingertips and mouth.

He looks tired. Maybe even in a bad mood. It gives you pause but before you can begin to step back from the doorway, he looks over and catches you. Quietly assesses you. His eyes flit down your form and it makes you feel naked.

"...What are you wearing?" he asks haltingly, and it sounds like the most uncertain you've ever heard him be.

With little opportunity to escape that wouldn't just delay the inevitable, you steel yourself, raise your chin like he taught you. "Lingerie, Daddy."

There's a tick in his brow that makes you feel like you've made a misstep but you hold strong. You try to look as brave as you can, dressed in delicate lace and not much else. The important bits are covered but the cut and design draws attention to what's hidden rather than outright obscuring it all. Flattering. Custom-fit and tailored to you and you alone.

"Lingerie," he repeats after knocking back the rest of his drink and setting it down firmly on the bar top. "Would you like to explain why you're wearing lingerie?"

You invite yourself closer with a sway in your hips, looking almost demure aside from your outfit, with hands tucked behind your back and your eyes — you were always told that you have your late mother's eyes — dropping to the floor instead of meeting his.

"...Because I want you to look at me," you finally say as you come to a stop in front of him.

He's so tall. This close, you can smell his cologne. You want to feel the heat of his skin.

"I'm looking at you, sunshine, what is this abou—"

You drop to your knees on the cold, tiled floor, your hands on his thighs, and once again you feel him tense. Now, you look at him. And he dares to look back, to meet those eyes of yours, to see a sight that's so eerily familiar and yet so wrong all the same.

But he doesn't stop you as you pull the tongue of his belt free, leather sliding over leather. Nor when you unfasten the buckle, the button and zipper on his slacks, and dip your fingers past the waistband of his underwear. He's hard — that much is apparent, even in his reluctance — and you groan when his length bobs to stiffness once you tug his clothes down far enough.

"Let me take care of you this time, Daddy, you do so much for me," you murmur as you lean in to nuzzle against the velvety skin of his cock.

He jolts at your touch but he relaxes somewhat. A hand settles atop your head and you peek up at him, eyes hazy and pleading, heart skipping at how he's letting you continue. It's better than you could have ever hoped.

So you don't want to disappoint him or keep him waiting: you dip down to lick from the base of his cock up to the tip with the flat of your tongue. The taste of him makes your eyes flutter and you take him past your lips with a soft noise of pleasure. His hips twitch forward and you let him sink farther into your mouth with little complaint.

But you one-up him and keep going, slowly and steadily, until you take him down to the base. The effort has tears stinging in your eyes and your throat protesting against the intrusion, but you stay down for a few long beats. Eyes half-lidded. Getting wet between your thighs. Then you draw back in a mess of drool and precum all to go down again, throating him as best as you can.

"Oh, darling," he sighs out, petting at you as you go, hips rocking forward to match your pace. "When did you learn to do that?"

That makes you smile around the cock in your mouth and it encourages you to keep going, to speed up, to work until you feel him tense for a different reason this time.

He fucks your mouth in earnest once he's sure you can take it, drawing out sounds of choking and wet, making a mess of your face and neck and chest and lingerie and your eyes roll back from how good it feels to be used by him. You hold yourself down and let him do as he pleases until he drags you off his cock, making you whine once you're done coughing and clearing your throat.

Spit connects your mouth to him. He strokes your cheek, regardless of how filthy you've become, and you lean into his hand without hesitation though you keep eyeing his twitching cock with the intent to suck it again.

"I know you want more, sweet thing," he says soothingly, voice rumbling lower in his chest in a way that makes you purr in kind. "But let me take care of you too now."

He hauls you up into his arms and you smile and laugh in delight, only for your mouth to be taken by his — your father kisses you with abandon even with your mouth heavy with his taste, your face dripping with your efforts. The kiss continues even as he gets your back to a wall and rearranges your limbs to get your legs around his waist. Your lips meet with warmth and desire, breathlessness, an ache so close to being soothed.

Your clothes are shifted by his steady hand until your hot, slick cunt is bared to him. A whine is drawn from your mouth when he rubs roughly over your core to catch your clit and feel how turned on you are.

"Do you think you can take me?" he asks, voice soft and betraying a hint of concern.

"I know I can, Daddy," is your immediate reply.

The chuckle in his chest is reward enough as you feel it reverberate. He takes your word for it, out of trust and out of his own need to be sank as deep as he can inside you to sate you both, and lines himself up. Your arms are thrown around his shoulders to dig your nails into the fabric of his dress shirt and hold on as he rolls his hips up to bottom out deep into your pussy.

It makes you keen out and cling to him that much harder. He has to pause once he's settled, almost as if to school himself into not cumming already, you feel so good on his cock.

Savoring you. In disbelief that he's balls deep in you. When he pulls his hips back only to buck forward again, he's fucking you.

It's wrong. Deeply wrong. Blood and sex shouldn't mix like this. Past the fog in your brain as your father finds the perfect pace to fuck you at — urgent, firm, plunging deep into you only to draw out and bury himself inside again as quickly as possible — you blearily wonder if you'll both regret this. Tomorrow will come, and you worry that this might be all and this one illicit romp will be all you can claim.

Your father doesn't seem to have the same reservations when he noses against you to have you tip your head back, all for him to capture your mouth with a groan — your worried thoughts dim as you surrender yourself to his easy dominance.

All that matters is that he's fucking you. That you can feel him deep inside you. Raw and hot and yours for now.

Your cunt is a mess. It drips down the curve of your ass, down your dad's cock to stain his perfectly-ironed pants. It sinks in that he didn't even bother to undress further all in his eagerness to have you.

Pleasure deeper than what he's making your body feel lights you up inside and you whine out "Daddy" into his mouth in your exaltation.

"I'm right here, darling... You're being so good for me."

His head moves to tuck itself into the curve of where your neck meets your shoulder. You're a breath away from protesting when you feel the graze of teeth on your skin, the suction of his mouth, and you're near-dizzy realizing that he's marking you. Always, always his. Always have been.

Always will be.

He grinds against your clit with every thrust and the friction sends you closer and closer to your peak. Futile, but you try to move your hips with his in your desperation to cum all over the cock that made you. It's clear to him what you want so he pounds you into the wall harder, determined to get you both there, kissing your skin and grunting with the effort.

You cum first. It's strong and full-bodied, making your back arch and has you clinging to him that much harder. Your legs around his waist keep him sank inside of you as your cunt squeezes and spasms around him without any chance of pulling out. It's not as if he tries to. So he's quick to join you with quick, shallow pumps as he fills you with his cum.

As you both come down, twitching and breathless, you nuzzle against him with a noise of contentment. He kisses your forehead and moves to let your legs down and have you stand but you protest. Laughing fondly, he fixes his pants then gathers you up in his arms and carries you off, up the stairs, pausing once he ascends to the landing.

Considering, between your room and his.

It occurs to you that you don't remember the last time he carried you to bed.

He turns and walks to his room.

It occurs to you that you don't remember the last time you both slept in the same bed.

This time, however, he sets you down and pulls the sheets over you. For a few moments, he's gone and all you hear is the sound of fabric rustling. The mattress dips behind you and you're drawn into his arms back against his bare chest.

When was the last time he had someone else in this bed?

A kiss is pressed to the nape of your neck and he squeezes you tight. Safe and sound. Questions were to be saved for tomorrow, but for the night, nothing more complicated than slumber.

#degrees of lewdity #avery the businessperson #extremely self-indulgent #softer than my usual fare but it's also still fucked up lol #lights out writes

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mezumasa · 1 year

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Baji-san

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eusuntgratie · 2 years

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seven sentence sunday 9/18/22

“I gotta get out of here though.”

“You don’t like Vegas?”

He looks at him and they both laugh. Canadians aren’t meant to live in the desert and they both know it.

“Tired of sweating your balls off, eh?”

He can’t help but laugh.

“Back to the ‘Peg?”

Nolan feels his face fall.

“I don’t think I wanna go home. Or at least- not yet.”

“You wanna come crash with me?”

#patty retires fic #tknp #seven sentence sunday #i keep working on this instead of kinktober #extremely self-indulgent #oops #grace writes

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amygdalae · 11 days

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I think he wld be very happy as a zookeeper

#extremely self indulgent art but drawing it made me smile maybe it will make you smile too. if you want #im going away now (to sleep) goodnight. be niceys #my art #dungeon meshi #Laios

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aeide-thea · 1 year

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on principle opposed to describing art i dislike as 'masturbatory' because even though it's an alluringly contemptuous word to sneer it's impossible to reconcile with my pro-masturbation stance

#it's such an ugly word but like. self-pleasure is good‚ actually #it's good to know yourself and what you like and lovingly treat yourself to it!#like similarly 'meretricious' is extremely tempting if you ignore the underlying metaphor #but. hard to.#language #and quite frankly i think people who whip out 'masturbatory' in this sneering sort of way #are leveraging‚ if we're honest with ourselves‚ a particular framing of it as a gross thing that boys do #because like. when have you ever heard a *woman's* self-indulgent art described as masturbatory #like don't get me wrong we absolutely still dismiss it! but we dismiss it in other ways #that are usually about how embarrassing her *yearning* is #and so even our sneering is reinforcing an idea that men Act whereas women Feel #anyway this was prompted by some things but i shoved it in the queue so now i forget what lol #so here you are getting some contextless thoughts on the use of 'masturbatory' as sneering dismissive assessment!#just what you were hoping for i'm sure :)

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nordidia · 9 months

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on my HC that when the boys have nightmares they go to Raph because the sound of his snoring is comforting to them

#one day i'll stop making extremely self indulgent HCs but today is not that day.#my art #rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles

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reds-skull · 10 months

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Sharing a mask is something that can be so intimate actually

#call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod mw2 #ghostsoap #ghoap #love that tag lmao #cod ghost #cod soap #cod fanart #if you couldnt tell i love soap's red mask #This is extremely self-indulgent #but so is this entire blog #this took way too long tbh but i enjoyed it #bc i experimented with a new style #dont expect anything this long in the near future tho i really need to work on my other non cod projects #also i keep going back and forth between thinking this is too cringe to post and being fine with it #but yknow i already made this blog and it not connected to my other blogs sooo if its that bad i can delete and disappear

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memequeme · 16 days

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Madeline Miller, The Song of Achilles // 9-1-1, Season 3, Episode 15, Eddie Begins // Homer (trans. Robert Fagles), The Iliad

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cantobear · 9 months

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put your hands together —

#キミガシネ #your turn to die #yttd #kimi ga shine #midori yttd #sou hiyori #i'll have this as a print at impulse!!#it's extremely self-indulgent but i needed to feed myself #cantobearart

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kaznejis · 10 months

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Love is lost on you- Bucky Barnes x Reader

Sam hummed, eyeing you as he nodded slowly, “He’s been to therapy, gone on a date with some girl apparently.”

Your heart stuttered, eyebrows shooting up as you failed to hide your expression from Sam- the shock and subsequent heartbreak present in your features. “Oh,” you spoke slowly, refusing to meet Sam’s eye, “Yeah, well, good for him.”

A/N- I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing! Please feel free to send any requests for Bucky- I have a lot of free time right now. :)

Word count: 3,862

Read it on AO3!

“Have you seen Bucky recently?”

Your lips twisted at Sam’s question, a lump forming in your throat at the name. Whilst you loved spending time with Sam- breakfasts, jogging together, late night drinks; the topic of your relationship with the Winter Soldier remained a taboo, an unspoken topic that lingered within every etched line of your conversations. You tended to skirt around his questions, opting to forget the time in which Y/N L/N and Bucky Barnes had been the pinnacle of a dynamic duo; both inside and outside of the battlefield. Constant speculation surrounding your relationship made you popular within the public eye, even as active fugitives- the perfect, star-studded friends-to-lovers trope, the bad boy and the good girl next door. Natasha had joked about the two of you being a couple- just to appease the general public who had kept up with any of your appearances.

Bucky had laughed in her face, mocking the idea of even being seen with you, ridiculing the idea of recognising what you believed to be true. You had laughed too, as sincerely as you could with the swirl of rejection in the pit of your stomach. You had realised then that despite your prayers, your wishes, you and Bucky Barnes would never be more than friends.

Sam was the only avenger you were constantly in contact with, having both opted to remain in Washington- you would join him in visiting Steve every now and then; now a dwindling old man, a shadow of the former super-soldier you had looked up to. He remembered very little of his time with the Avengers, the wide span of time his life had consisted throughout caused memories to intertwine and muddle together. But he still laughed, still carried that jovial optimism he carried towards life; you could only smile along, holding his hand as he lived out his final days. You envied Steve at times, he had known exactly where he belonged and had taken the chance to go there.

You hadn’t quite worked out your place in the world post-Avengers, post superhero glory.

Maybe that was why you had clung to Sam, meeting with him regularly and joining him on outings to his hometown; he felt the same way. You couldn’t blame him when he gave away the shield- it was too much of a responsibility, a burden to hold for the rest of his life as he would constantly live in Steve’s shadow. You understood, you couldn’t fault him for it- but part of you knew it would have landed in the wrong hands.

“No,” you shook your head, running a finger along the rim of your beer bottle as the new ‘Captain America’ pranced around on the bar’s television above you. “Why, have you?”

Sam hummed, eyeing you as he nodded slowly, “He’s been to therapy, gone on a date with some girl apparently.”

Sam hummed again, a blatant smirk upon his lips as he drank from his beer bottle, “There’s something else.”

“Go on.”

“He’s coming down here, to help confront the flag smashers issue,” his voice faded out as your heart thudded, “And to probably cuss me out for letting the shield go.”

“He’s coming here? Bucky’s coming here?” your voice wobbled slightly, your facade of strength instantly fading at the thought of being in the same room as him, seeing his face, smelling his scent. It was a feeling you’d once been accustomed to, seeing him everyday- sparring with him in the gym, fighting alongside him, collapsing into his arms as the both of you had faded back into existence- gripping the sides of his face, foreheads connected as you’d cried. Your lips had collided on that fateful day, tears mingling together as you’d gripped at each other, holding fistfuls of his long hair in that Wakandan jungle. You had thought that was it, it was finally happening. But then the portals had opened, the fight had ended and the clarity of the situation had become all too real- Tony and Natasha were dead, Steve was no longer the young super-soldier he had been only seconds earlier. Bucky had left then, disappeared without a trace leaving the kiss you had shared merely adding up to the heat of the moment.

It had broken your heart, more so than the day Bucky had laughed at the thought of a relationship. You had finally grasped it, everything you had ever wanted- you were alive, you had won, you had Bucky. But within minutes it was over, rendering you helpless, empty, alone. You had been left with nothing post-blip, no family to return to, no home to return to. You joined the billions that simply rode the wave of life, unable to return to their previous selves; unable to gain back the years upon years lost to Thanos.

Sam had continued to eye you, pity sitting deep within his eyes, “You know, maybe now could be the time to discuss what happened between you two.”

You shook your head once again, a sardonic chuckle erupting from your gut, “I don’t wanna do that to him, Sam.”

“What does that even mean?”

“You literally just said that he’s been on a date, I don’t want to disrupt his life now with reminders of the past. He’s put it all behind him and I respect that.” You continued to work in favour of America, utilising your skills in order to aid the government. You and Sam had co-ran multiple military focused missions- threats were ever prevalent, so at least you could be occupied on that front.

Sam sighed, rubbing at his forehead, exhaustion prevalent within the crease of his brow, “Well, the two of you better not be awkward as hell the whole time, we have a mission to complete.”

Smiling, you raised your beer bottle to clink it against his, a toast to whatever was to come. “Can’t make any promises.”

You pitied Sam, sitting on the other side of the plane, grasping at any semblance of a coherent conversation in order to escape the thick tension within the air. It was awkward as hell.

Bucky had stormed over to the two of you, opting to ignore you entirely and cuss Sam out for losing the shield. You had been too stunned to acknowledge him- his once long locks had been chopped, replaced by cropped, buzzed hair with the slightest fluff on top. Your body practically yearned for him as you took in the tight leather, light stubble and dominant demeanour he now wore- the quiet, isolated Bucky that you had rescued and harboured was no longer present; he had been replaced by a real soldier- all hard muscle and perfected accuracy. You had stood to the side of Sam, switching between avoiding Bucky’s gaze and gawking at his new appearance. Upon the chance that he had taken to try and acknowledge you, you had already walked away- much to Sam’s dismay as he side eyed the both of you the entire walk towards the plane. Despite Sam’s endearing attempts to include you in the conversation, you had merely hummed and nodded- too nervous to engage with this new Bucky Barnes.

So, now, you sat side by side in the back of the plane- waiting, begging, for the instruction to jump. As soon as it did come, Sam was gone- practically leaping from the plane as he flew towards the target. Bucky had faltered, glancing back at you momentarily as you had remained stoic; refusing to meet his gaze as you checked your weapons.

He cleared his throat, glancing downwards from the exit of the plane, “We got any chutes?”

“It’s too low.” Joaquin replied from the opening, gripping the handle as he remained stable. Bucky glanced back at you once again, a tinge of worry present in his features as he calculated the expanse of the drop before you. You rolled your eyes back, crossing your arms as you waited for him to jump. Clicking his tongue, he nodded- before throwing himself from the plane.

“Impressive,” you snorted as he screamed, grinning at Joaquin who attempted to stifle his laugh, “Good thing I thought to install gliders in my stealth suit instead of opting for a leather jacket.” At that you swan-dived from the entrance, allowing your suit to expand and form makeshift gliders. With feline-like precision, you landed on your two feet beside Bucky, splayed along the grass.

“Well, that was majestic.”

You scoffed, turning to jog after Red Wing as it began to lead the way to Sam’s location. Though, before you could; a weighted hand grasped at your sleeve, “Whoa, whoa. Hold on.” Bucky gasped, presumably exasperated from the fall, “Are you gonna talk to me or are you giving an old friend the silent treatment right now?”

Scoffing, you snatched your hands from the metal arm- an action only possible with his allowance, “What do we have to talk about, James?”

“Oh- come on Doll, James, seriously?” your heart sped at the nickname, your cheeks filling with heat as you turned your face away from Bucky, beginning the long run through the forest. You heard a sigh behind you, to which you ignored, you had nothing to discuss with him. He had obviously moved on, with no intention of using this meet up as a chance to potentially rekindle what had about to have been- right person, wrong time and all. But instead he had gone on a date. He had probably bought her flowers, drinks, and put on a nice outfit for her. The thought made your stomach churn, the polar opposite of butterflies swarming in your stomach. Jealousy. Out of curiosity, you just wanted to know who she was- check that she was a viable replacement, made him happy, was good looking and all. Though you couldn’t ask Bucky about it- why should you care anyway? The two of you had kissed once. Bucky probably didn’t even remember it, you thought to yourself.

The two of you jogged in silence; the heavy weight of what lay between you creating a dark cast upon your conscience. You well and truly pitied Sam. The Falcon came into view within the warehouse, crouched behind a shelf and watching the targets. As him and Bucky argued petulantly, you observed the group ahead- they were just kids. All young, fighting for what they believed was right; you saw a mirror image of your own young self. You watched as they entered the trucks- Sam scanned the trucks before realising that a hostage was potentially present within one of the vehicles. You swore, sprinting after Sam and Bucky.

“Wait!” you shouted, causing the others to come to a halt; both sharing confused looks, “Sam I need you to lift me so we can get extra eyes from the sky- I’m not as fast as the two of you on foot and I’m definitely not about to make James give me a piggyback.” Sam nodded, ensuring that he could lift you and fly at the same time- but not before sharing a confused look with Bucky, mouthing ‘James?’ to which Bucky only shook his head, shrugging. The two of you flew off, allowing you the opportunity to unholster your handguns and deliver a number of shots to the top of the truck.

“Drop me off on top!” you yelled up to Sam as you watched Bucky be thrown from one van and dragged to the top of another. His super-soldier strength inflicting damage upon each vehicle.

“Are you serious?” Sam shouted from above, “You’ll get yourself killed, look at them holding Bucky back right now.”

“Do it Sam.” you ordered, squirming in his arms until he deposited you on top of the trucks to which you instantly unclipped your throwing knives, depositing two into the necks of the two soldiers holding Bucky back. Though- it only angered them, allowing them to turn their attention to your human form. You swore, your hair whipping in the wind as they advanced towards you.

“Y/N!” Bucky yelled, fighting against the men holding him down, “Y/N, no!”

Delivering a fatal kick, the soldier finally reached you, grabbing you by the hair and slamming you into the top of the truck. Screaming, you mustered every tactic you’d ever been taught: elbows, legs, arms- any brutal bone was thrown against the soldier pinning you down. The man tutted, his anonymity within the mask only increasing your terror as cold eyes glared down at you. You realized that you had become used to fighting alongside super soldiers instead of against them.

You heard Bucky’s yell before you felt the impact of the floor- the trucks speeding away as you laid at the side of the road; each breath hitching with the intense pain within your body. Gritting your teeth, you rolled to your knees and crawled to the roadside; only to lose momentum and roll into a ditch. The fall would have been fatal if not for the protection of your suit- but the high velocity impact had still broken a number of bones. Licking your lips, the taste of acrid copper prevailed as you began to cough up flecks of blood; turning only to see that the grass around you was stained red.

“Shit.” your vision blurred dangerously- the pain merged into an unfocused haze, rendering your ability to identify your injuries useless. Fading in and out of consciousness, you listened to the wildlife around you and thought of Bucky. He would never know the origin of your anger- only remembering the cold mirage you had enacted towards him; opting to ignore him instead. Sobbing, you prayed for anyone, anything to find you; for Sam and Bucky to break free from the soldiers and come and find you, save you. You would apologise then- talk to Bucky, talk to him about whatever he wanted to say to you. It didn’t matter if you were just friends, if you met his new girlfriend- you just wanted to see him again.

Blood stained your chin at that point; the coughing and choking a constant motion as you couldn’t muster the strength to sit up; to allow your throat some reprieve. Your leg felt wrong, broken in different places and bent backwards at the knee. As your vision faded, you only thought of Bucky.

“Shit, shit Y/N,” a gust of wind hit you as the whoosh of wings closing sounded above, “Buck! I’ve found her, she’s over here.”

The sound of knees hitting the ground beside your head could be heard next, the impact causing your head to jostle, “Doll? Y/N, can you hear me, tell me you can hear me.” warmth surrounded you as you felt your head being lifted into a lap, a rough sleeve gently wiped the blood staining your chin, “Come on Y/N, don’t do this to me. Wake up.”

“Get her in the truck.” A foreign voice sounded, deep and arrogant in its timber.

“Get away from her,” the voice above you snapped, “we don’t know the extent to her injuries yet- we may not be able to lift her.”

“We need to get her to a hospital, Buck,” a voice that sounded like Sam’s spoke, “there’s still a heartbeat, we’ve got a chance.” Throughout the conversation above you, a trembling hand had caressed your face; smoothing the blood-matted hair away from your face and distracting you from the pain throughout your body. The hand was calloused but gentle- the feeling of it against your cheek vaguely familiar in your unconscious state. You faded in-and-out of consciousness from there, an ache resounding throughout your body as you were lifted and held against a firm chest; warmth radiating through the harsh material. Sweet nothings and comforts were whispered into your ear as the body stayed close, the hand firm against the side of your face; creating a comforting pressure. Reminding you that you could still be alive.

Eventually, you woke- the harsh lights of a hospital room blinding as your eyes adjusted; the last thing you had seen being the country roadside. Coughing, you retched at the sandpaper texture to your throat. A straw was quickly coaxed towards your mouth, Sam’s worrisome eyes staring down at you. You sipped from the straw, blinking as you truly adjusted to being conscious.

“Hey there,” Sam spoke as he gave you a watery smile, his eyes filling with tears, “We thought we’d lost you for a minute there.”

“Can’t lose me that easily,” you croaked, smiling at your best friend and reaching for his hand; to which he obliged.

“Thankfully not,” Sam laughed shakily, his gaze still clouded with emotion, “Y/N, I was the one to see you first and- we really didn’t know if you were going to make it. I mean there was so much blood and your leg-” you squeezed his hand tighter, you were alive, you were okay. Sam’s vision darkened suddenly, his hold on yours tightening. “You should have seen him Y/N.”

Furrowing your eyebrows, you cocked your head at Sam, “Who?”

“Buck, he- the soldiers held him up so he watched as you were thrown. The scream he let out I- I’ve not seen him lose it like that during a fight in years, not since-”

“The Winter Soldier.” you finished, turning your gaze to your hands. Sam could only nod.

“He cares about you, Y/N. So much. He held you to his chest the entire journey here and we practically had to tear you from his arms when we arrived.”

“Why isn’t he here now then?

Sam’s face took a different cast then, one of confusion. “I- I’m not sure actually, he said he wanted to give us some space?” You reflected his look of confusion.

“Is he still in the hospital?”

“I assume so, it wasn’t too long ago that he left,” Sam stood then, giving you a kiss on the cheek and jogging towards the door- still in full Falcon gear, “I’m gonna send him in.”

It was only a number of moments later that Bucky rounded the entrance to the doorway, his expression stricken as he froze- staring at your opened eyes, at your steady breaths. A beat passed and he sighed, moving to occupy the vacant seat that Sam had been sitting in only moments earlier. “Hey, Doll.”

“Buck,” you sighed, reaching for his twitching hand that lay at the edge of your bed, “I’m glad you’re okay.”

Bucky furrowed his eyebrows, a glint of anger and confusion in his eyes, “I’m okay? Y/N I watched you fall from a moving truck.”

Rolling your eyes, you sat straight; wincing slightly at the pain, “I was just say-”

“No, Y/N,” Bucky snapped, “you shouldn’t even have been there in the first place, I mean what were you thinking, jumping onto a truck and taking on super soldiers that were holding me down.”

“Wow, thanks-”

“Seriously. This easily could have been prevented if your boyfriend hadn’t agreed to carry you 100 feet into the air.”

“My what-”

“I mean, come on, surely he should have your best interests in mind. The whole thing was reckless from the beginning, if I was in his position I wouldn’t have brought you.”

You sat, shell shocked, Bucky thought you and Sam were together, “Is that why you weren’t here when I woke up?”

Bucky nodded then, hurt in his eyes as he scrubbed at his stubble, “Yeah- I mean, I wanted to, you know, give you space. Let you work things out I don’t know-”

You cackled, laughing right in his face- leading to an entirely unattractive coughing fit to which Bucky was forced to clap you on the back. “Why are you laughing at me?”

“You’re ridiculous,” you chuckled, wiping at the tears rolling down your cheeks as you stared at the silly man before you, “Bucky, me and Sam aren’t together.”

Bucky paused, seemingly halting in his tracks as he gaped at you, “What?”

“We aren’t together.”

“But-” he shook his head, having seemingly lived a lie for however long he’d believed this, “but you two have been so close I mean- every time I talk to Sam he mentions things the two of you have been doing and you’re just so close and in tune with each other I thought-”

“We’re just friends Buck,” your mouth twisted, the clarity of the situation hitting you, “Why do you even care anyway? You have a girlfriend.”

“Oh for goodness sake.” Bucky was laughing now, standing and opting to pace the room, his face filled with mirth as he continued to scrub at his stubble, “I do not have a girlfriend.”

“Sam told me you went on a date.”

“Sam told you- yeah and he conveniently missed the part where I did that in an attempt to get over you.” Bucky threw his arms up then, his expression defeated as he spoke. You could only stare back, lips pursed, eyes wide.

“Get over me?”

“Yes.”

“But, I thought-” you shook your head, “after the battle, you-you left and we never spoke again. I thought you regretted what happened. I thought-”

“Every waking moment is spent thinking about that kiss, Doll,” Bucky sighed, circling the bed to sit back at your side, taking your hand in his, “I was mourning, my best friend was gone and I knew he was going to do it but I just- I would never be ready for it, you know. Sam found me later and he was telling me all of these stories about you and- God, I’m so stupid- I presumed that the two of you had gotten together so I kept my distance. I mean, I was so in love with you that I didn’t want to ruin that for you even despite what had happened between us and- I’m so sorry Y/N.”

Tears trickled down your cheeks as you stared at the ridiculous, gorgeous man before you; you laughed again, softer and tearier this time as you reached to grab Bucky’s face, mirroring the action that he had done to you during your unconscious state, “We are so ridiculous.”

Bucky laughed too then, moving to sit at the edge of your bed and tuck the loose hair behind your ears- his cheeks were crumpled; red with embarrassment and love and longing. He leaned forward then, careful in respect of your injuries, in order to capture your lips between his. This kiss was different from your first, it was slower, less urgent- your thumbs tracing figure-of-eights into his cheeks as you didn’t carry that same weight of uncertainty as you had last time. You smiled against each other's mouths, hands trailing each other’s bodies- the back of his head, his cheeks, his back, his neck, the brass of his metal arm.

You finally felt complete, like you knew where you belonged.

#bucky barnes x reader #mcu #mcu fanfiction #bucky barnes #falcon and the winter soldier #extremely self indulgent #sam wilson #marvel #thunderbolts #use of the doll nickname iktrrrr

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