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#once i get past that it's smooth sailing
americankimchi · 2 years
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the first 10% of any book is the hardest part
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matildashoney · 1 year
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we are making progress with this chapter everyone cheer
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tulipsbymybed · 3 months
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a friendly hand
Pairing; RE2!Leon Kennedy x Fem Reader
Summary; One thing Leon has never liked? Prostate exams. Maybe you can help with that…
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Warnings; 18+ minors please stay away!!!!! sub!leon kennedy, anal fingering (m receiving), nurse/medical roleplay I guess, prostate orgasm
(a/n); so. i haven’t posted anal or prostate stuff on here before bcus of responses I’ve gotten in the past. if you like this please reblog or comment to share my work and don’t say something negative bcus I am nerrrrrvous abt posting this
Word Count: 2.7k
Leon finds himself stood in the en suite adjacent to his bedroom, staring at his reflection in the mirror over the sink. He’s white knuckling the edge of the basin, trying to psych himself up to open the door and go back out. Routine check, that’s all you said. Routine check, routine check, routine check.
Never mind that you’re the prettiest nurse he’s ever seen or had the pleasure of dealing with, he’s always nervous about this anyway and now? It’s gonna be an entertaining afternoon at the very least. He blinks hard and swallows nervously, thanking god that at least he was able to do this in the comfort of his own home this time. Appointments after appointments of sitting in uncomfortable doctors chairs, feet propped up and legs spread uncomfortably wide and now he finally gets to lie back on his own bed, he gets to smell the familiar comforting scents of his bedroom and he gets to head straight to his bath to relax.
Well, that’s what he was thinking before he opened the door and came face to face with you when you arrived.
Now he’s worried he’s going to be hiding a boner the entire time, that it’ll either be pointing lewdly straight at your face or he’s going to tent whatever sheet or covering is placed over his hips. Normally he would say he’s good at keeping his cool, he’s a police officer for crying out loud his job relies on his staying calm at the most stressful points, but christ.
One of the most pretty girls he’s ever seen is about to finger his ass and check his prostate while he lies back on the bed and pretends it’s just any other day. Sure. Why not? It’ll be fine. Smooth sailing. Fuck.
Fuck.
There’s a light knock on the door and your voice floats through, slightly hushed and he can tell you’re trying not to startle him. It must have been pretty fucking obvious he was like a deer in headlights when you sat down on the armchair in his bedroom and stared expectantly at him, before hesitantly telling him well-I-Mr. Kennedy I will need you to remove your clothes to do this exam-
Now though, you’re softly asking are you okay Mr. Kennedy? If you would like to keep this appointment I will need you to be in position in a couple of minutes if that’s okay-feel free to cancel if you aren’t feeling well, we can fix another time if you’d like-
In position-
Leon breathes out shakily, wondering why you have to say it like that. You're about to stretch him open, it’s all he can do to stop from hardening right now and thinking about you ordering him into various positions is not helping in any way whatsoever.
He mumbles that he’ll be right out, just a minute, before splashing some cold water on his face and patting it dry. With a final deep breath and doubtful glance at his reflection, he pulls his shirt off and drops it in the laundry hamper, pulling open the door to face you.
You’re sitting in the armchair again, phone in hand and scrolling through something that he can’t see. As soon as he comes into view though you slip the device into your pocket, straightening up and professional once more. Well, professional apart from the way your eyes trail down his chest. There’s only a small smattering of blond hair just above his waistband that Leon is usually a little ashamed of, thinking he should have a hairier chest, should be more manly, more buff and masculine. But the way your eyes trail down and pause at the light happy trail, he thinks maybe it’s not so bad, maybe he doesn’t look too terrible.
And then your eyes flick up to his again with a small smile that makes his cock twitch a little, not completely soft from his thoughts in the bathroom, and you gently tell him that he could have kept his shirt on if he’d liked, you really need his bottoms off to be honest.
And of course he unwillingly blushes to high heaven, cheeks flaring red as he fumbles with the ties on his sweatpants hanging low on his hips. The thought of putting his shirt back on doesn’t even occur to him, unsurprisingly. He fumbles with pulling the hems over his feet as you bend down to pull a few things out of the bag you brought with you, unfolding a light blue towel onto his bed, and a small black case that you place on his chest of drawers within reach, unopened. Leon swallows at the thought of what might be in there.
With a kind smile, your hand politely directs him toward the bed so that he’s perched on the end of it, black briefs his only attire at this point. He fidgets and picks restlessly at the edges of the towel.
“We do have those scratchy paper type coverings I could have brought, but I thought this might be more comfortable-which is why I assume you wanted this done at home?”
As he pushes himself back a little, thighs spreading out as he settles fully into the bed, you shuffle the chair forward until it almost meets his legs. Just enough room for you.
“No that’s-thats okay I do much prefer the towel-I-I did want to be a bit more comfortable-it’s just-it’s a lot yknow?”
Another sweet smile graces your features and you adjust your hair slightly as you sink into the chair, forcing him to open his thighs a little wider and flush brighter. The black slacks and the white shirt only add to his trouble, you just look far too professional and his thoughts are anything but.
“Of course, I’ll try to make this as comfortable as possible for you, I know it can be a bit of an overwhelming experience sometimes, please let me know if anything is too much okay?”
Leon startles slightly when you gently tap his knee at the end of your question, the pads of your fingers soft against his skin and making his predicament a whole lot worse. He nods in response, fingers still dancing over the edges of the towel either side of him.
His gaze falls to his legs as he tries to calm himself a little, before you clear your throat quietly and his eyes snap up to meet your teasing gaze. Leon swallows, momentarily distracted by the mischief he can see in your eyes right before you tell him that I will need these briefs off though, Mr. Kennedy-
He’s sure his flush must be spreading down to his chest by this point as he nods and wriggles them off, dropping them off the side of the bed and praying you can’t tell his cock is half hard where it lays against his thigh. He watches you reach into the bag by your feet, breath hitching when you sit back up and he sees you pull on a pair of black gloves. Latex. Of course.
His cock jerks. Before he can even say anything, before he can apologise and blurt out that he’s so sorry he didn’t mean to he doesn’t know what’s come over him, one of your glove clad hands is place gently on his lower thigh as you smile warmly and tell him it’s completely natural, he’d be surprised how often it happens honestly there’s nothing to worry about!
Leon offers a small smile in return, which turns tight when you pat your hand again and whisper that he needs to scooch back a little. He does so, edging backwards a little until you hum in approval. And then, fuck and then you gently curl your fingers around the backs of his knees and lift a little, simply saying feet on the bed please-
It makes his cock twitch again, and he thanks god at least he’s lying back now so he doesn’t have to look at you and see you completely professional while he’s getting turned on from a prostate exam. Yikes.
“Okay Mr. Kennedy-” god fuck you have to stop calling him that “I will have lubricant on my finger so again, I’ll try to make it as comfortable and as easy a process I can manage, but it may feel a little cold to start with. Just remember to relax, okay?”
Leon almost grumbles at you, hands tightening in the sheets either side of him, because he was beginning to relax right before you told him to as you gently stroked his calf with one hand. That doesn’t help one goddamn bit. And oh-oh jesus neither does the slippery latex covered pad of your finger gently dancing along the space behind his balls. It’s a featherlight touch, almost tickling him, and he lets out a shaky breath when your finger dips just that little bit lower, pressing a little firmer right where he wants you to. Not that he wants anything of course, he doesn’t want anything sexual from this no sir he’s being professional as well. Totally.
You don’t move for a second, apart from the hand on his calf, and Leon focuses on that. The small soft circles you rub into his leg calm him a little, they ground him and he can almost ignore the pressure of your finger gradually increasing, ever so slowly. Without pausing the circles on his calf, you softly tell him to relax for me-
A small whimper escapes his throat unwillingly when you slip the tip of your finger into him, a slightly odd feeling but with a pleasurable promise of more. He feels you squeeze his leg gently and refocuses to hear you talking again, telling he’s doing well, that was very good and he’s doing so well for you! The praise doesn’t help one bit, cock hardening further and he knows he’ll be leaking onto his lower belly soon enough.
Slowly, so fucking slowly, your finger slides in deeper. Just a little, just another inch, but it makes him whimper again. There’s a gentle squeeze to his calf this time, and you’re talking to him again as he lets out a deep breath.
“Doing okay for me? Let’s see if I can try something to loosen you up-well, so to speak-”
Leon barely has enough time to glance down at you, visible between his legs in a sight that makes his stomach swoop, before you’re sliding the digit back out slowly, and pumping it back in even deeper.
“Oh-oh-that’s-” He gasps through it, unsure what he was even going to say.
No more words escape him for a couple of minutes as you continue the motion, finger rhythmically sliding in and out of him, feeling himself tighten and relax around you. It’s still a little odd, but he can’t deny the pleasure is steadily increasing as you keep moving, and he pushes down the part of him that wants to beg for another finger, the part of him that wants to pull his knees up to his chest and plead for more.
Eventually he feels your other hand slide up his leg to his thigh, squeezing gently right before you push out a little and whisper okay let’s open you up a little hm? and he keens, legs widening of their own accord and hands fisting in the sheets as his breathing picks up. The digit gently sliding in and out of him recedes, slipping out of him and leaving him feeling woefully empty.
Before he registers what he’s doing he’s wiggling a little, trying to shift further down the bed and impale himself on your finger again. A small pinch to Leon’s inner thigh stops the movement, accompanied by his face and chest flushing scarlet and a couple of seconds later he hears the click of the cap on the lube bottle again. Soon enough there’s pressure again, your middle finger slowly rubbing circles over his hole before pressing in with your index so damn slowly.
Leon presses his lips together as he arches his back instinctively, trying to be quiet and professional but unable to ignore the mounting pleasure in his cock as you slide your fingers in deeper, deeper, deeper.
A quiet there we go sounds from you just as he feels your knuckles press against him, your hand flush against him and fingers buried in him to the hilt. He can’t help it at that, he can’t help moaning softly in response at the sheer fullness, at how different it is this time, at how he literally has you between his legs, pushing his thighs apart and fingering him open under your gaze.
Leon slaps a hand over his mouth when he hears your small chuckle, as if it could take his moan back and make it like it never happened. Like he’s being completely normal and professional about this, like his cock isn’t leaking messily onto his belly and twitching every so often when you push your fingers back into his hole.
He knows he won’t be able to control himself much longer and stay grounded, and then of course you make it even more difficult.
The hand on his thigh squeezes comfortingly once again before sliding down and cupping the meaty part where his ass meets his thigh, gripping firmly and using your thumb to spread him open further for you. His hand shakily lowers from his mouth to the bed again, fisting the sheets tightly.
“Mr. Kennedy? Look at me.”
He jolts at your voice and the commanding tone, helpless to do anything but obey you and raise his head even as his body trembles. When he manages to make eye contact with you, clenching down on your fingers as he takes in your polite, professional smile, you curl the digits up and prod gently against his prostate, rubbing back and forth as his mouth drops open and his cock jerks.
You don’t let up either, you just keep massaging and rubbing against it until it’s far too late, until his eyes widen and he gasps, shaft twitching as the first spurt of cum spills over his hip bone. He watches your mouth turn up into a grin at it, and he can’t even keep his head up anymore. With a choked moan, he drops back onto the bed and lets the orgasm roll through him fully. It’s so fucking intense, like nothing he’s felt before because Jesus fucking Christ nothing has even touched his dick but god, the little back and forth movements on his prostate don’t stop and his cock keeps jumping, cum hitting the column of his throat and painting his chest beautifully.
His body undulates under the torment you keep inflicting, legs trembling a little and torso rolling as his balls empty and his hole flutters around your fingers.
After a minute he drops a hand down and pushes weakly on your arm, cock jerking once more and oozing another dribble of cum onto his belly as he whimpers. His mind feels halfway melted, like you held a flame under it and turned him into a puddle with a few simple touches. Eventually the strokes stop and your hand recedes, and he whines as you pull the digits free, simultaneously wanting more and not thinking he can handle anything else.
Leon’s grounded by the light circles you begin massaging into his thigh again, jerking his legs as though they’re trying to close every so often as he pants and tries to come down from the sensitivity. When he manages to look up again, finally able to hold his head up properly once more, he meets your soft smile with a lazy one of his own.
“Would you-can I have a kiss now? And-and can I go back to ‘Leon’?”
The proud look you send him makes his heart flutter happily, almost more overwhelming than the orgasm you just pulled from him.
“Of course baby, save Mr. Kennedy for next time hm?”
Leon chuckles breathlessly in response, listening to you peel the gloves from your hands.
“I-fuck-m’sorry I really thought I’d last a bit longer than that-”
He should have known better than to say that, honestly. Though it seems like he realises his mistake quite quickly, head dropping back before jerking up to meet your gaze nervously again.
“Don’t worry Leon, we have all night to improve your stamina don’t we?”
please comment or reblog if you liked this!! likes don’t share my work sadly :((
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ೃ⁀➷ look at me! look at me!
↳ ❝ ¡love and deepspace idol! au headcanons! ❞
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·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙
linkon city, the hotspot for new and upcoming talent. the city is restless, many calling it “the city of dreams”. ambition and passion are what fuel the city, it’s vibrant culture making it alluring to many. you and your best friend tara are debuting in the most anticipated girl group of your generation, hunt:ress. with your manager caleb and your groupmates by your side, this journey should be smooth sailing…
right?
fans tend to pit boy groups and girl groups against each other— it did not take long before your group hunt:ress was dragged into that mess. specifically with a particular boy group— after a clip of the recently debuted group brushing past yours without a second glance at an award show went viral, the boy group eVOL was never far when hunt:ress was mentioned. hell even variety and award shows were humoring the spectacle by having the two groups up to announce awards or interviews. that’s where you met the group’s maknae, xavier.
when i tell you— y’all looked at each other like ONCE and the masses were making edits, making blogs and analysis videos, writing fanfiction, whole nine yards
but of course with the people who thought y’all were cute (despite never actually having a conversation with one another) came his fans who gave you unnecessary hate, they’re ruthless
with the way your group was pitted against eVOL, other fans just thought y’all had beef (think the alleged jeongyeon v. jimin beef type of level LMAOOOOO)
no but seriously eVOL fans conspired with hunt:ress fans about you and xavier being together so much that caleb had to give the company your phone to search through just to make sure
rumors get so bad that they put you on house arrest shortly after some rabid xavier biases run you out of a cafe (it made the news)
eVOL’s company reaches out to yours with a half hearted apology, however they won’t won’t release a public statement because “that would only feed into it” and hope that the situation blows over
unbeknownst to both companies— xavier finds a way to reach out to you through your old phone (that you hide because you didn’t want to give up your old life just to become an idol) and apologizes for his fans behavior
the two of you actually start to talk since you’re not exactly allowed to go out the dorms save for group outings and music/award shows, he’s been the first person you’ve been able to actually talk to, it was refreshing
you find out despite his baby face— he is not the maknae and is actually the oldest member but his company’s trying to keep that public perception of him (yeah they’re weeeeeird)
you start to confide in each other and talk about idol life but also just random things, he’s a comforting presence in a world where everyone’s eyes were on you
you sometimes text him all night coming to practice absolutely exhausted, tara’s the first one to suspect something is going on
tara actually runs one of y’all’s ship pages LMAOOOOO
when your group wins an award for best new music, he’s the first person who congratulates you (the footage is clipped and before the end of the night it’s viral)
one of the reasons why hunt:ress was so well received was because of their visuals. the girls were pretty, sure— but whoever their stylist was? they were working overtime. there is not a single ‘flop outfit’ compilation or blog about any of you girls. one of your group’s performance outfit goes viral however everyone can’t stop talking about how it captured your aura and stage presence perfectly, it went viral catching everyone’s attention— including someone interesting. your company had ties to a famous designer who rarely showed his face, seemed like he’d just design clothes and have them modeled and call it a day, did not bother to even go to fashion showcases where his work would be the main event. but then he saw a clip of you in his work go viral— he had to see it for himself. that’s when you met rafayel.
when you heard that the designer of all your performance outfits wanted to meet you specifically you were nervous, after all this had to be some respectable man
let’s just say you were a bit confused when you showed up to his studio that looked like a tornado had ran through it— everything was strewn around
in its wake? an attractive young man who was probably the last person you’d think would be the person responsible for your group’s outfits
he’s an audacious man, skipping all pleasantries to immediately ask about your measurements
he asks for your chest size first and you resist the urge to chuck a nearby thread spool at him
you start to interrogate him, there’s no way that he’s the decorated designer that’s well respected in the industry… right?
but despite his demeanor, you can’t argue with his skill when he pulls out a dress that immediately catches your eye— you’re itching to try it on
he snickers at your wide eyes and tells you to change into it (he makes a joke about how he wouldn’t mind dressing you himself and you give him the craziest look)
once you’re all dressed up you step away from the changing room, doing a little twirl as you showed off his work
he was in awe, videography did you no justice compared the real deal— he shamelessly asks you to drop your idol career to be his model, his muse
and just when you thought you couldn’t give this man any more crazy looks
you really couldn’t deny it though, it was almost as if his work was made for you— the dress complimented you deeply
but alas you had worked extremely hard to get to where you were now, no amounts of flattery would coax you out of it
no matter to him, he wasn’t one to give up so easily. in a sea of fish, you were quite the catch
eventually he convinces your company to “lend” you to him as his model— the company agrees because not only is the versatility of idols really important but also free promo lolz
he now starts to attend these fashion shows so he can bask in your presence showing off his work, people whisper about the man who manages to get the best seat every time wondering who he is
at the end of every show he’s waiting for you with a bouquet of flowers, you always accept them joking about how it was just another failed attempt at him trying to get you to be his permanent model
little did you know that that wasn’t the only thing he was gunning for
whenever the question “who’s the most hardworking?” would arise in group interviews, without a doubt your fellow members would answer your name. your trainee days were rough, strict diets, endless hours of practice, appointments with vocal coaches, promo— you took it all in stride with no complaints. nowadays as a debuted idol in a well performing group, you still couldn’t help but watch what you ate, practice until your muscle ached, finding every opportunity to better yourself. tara often tried to reassure you that you already were good enough and that it was alright to be gracious and lenient towards yourself. you appreciated her words but you were fine, it wasn’t nearly as bad as being a trainee. that mindset eventually landed you in trouble causing you to collapse at a pre rehearsal for a music show. fortunately with no footage, rumors of your company potentially mistreating you only had the questioned credibility from word of mouth. eventually coming to with an iv connected to your arm and caleb scolding you for never taking breaks, your company insists that your group does the next few music shows without you so you can rest. before you can protest, a doctor that’s introduced to be your primary care walks in. that’s when you’re reunited with zayne.
you’re still a bit groggy but you recognize those pensive green eyes anywhere
he tries to not cross the line of a patient doctor relationship but the minute caleb leaves he gives you an exasperated look
he makes a quip that despite all these years later you still are inadequate in taking care of yourself
you grew up in the same small town as him and went to school together, of course he left for medical school while you perused your dream— who knew that you’d reunite in the big city
despite being in for mild dehydration and being treated for it with the iv, he insists on doing a full exam which gets you nervous and rightfully so, he’s very thorough
and lo and behold— he unravels your secret that you’ve kept from your company, your chronic illness
when auditioning and being signed on as a trainee the medical records you had submitted were from a shoddy doctor who never ran any tests
you beg him not to rat you out, after all you had made it this far with not a single person suspecting a thing
he’s very adamant about letting your company know, he tries to reassure you that the more room for accommodation for you the better but you cut him off pleading
he didn’t know how ruthless the industry was— you’ve seen plenty of popular groups put members in indefinite and unfair hiatuses for something beyond their control, if it wasn’t your company than the general public would know you as the sickly idol
you had worked too hard for it to come crashing down like this and his cold eyes softened in realization
he let out a sigh before begrudgingly agreeing to keep your secret, reminding you that you had been lucky that he was employed by the hospital rather than your company who by under contract he’d have to tell
he also makes a condition, you would have to start taking care of yourself more— if you ever landed in a hospital bed with another iv in he wouldn’t hesitate to let your company know of your state
you thank him profusely, you had worked far too hard for this. he knows because this had been your dream since you were children
you offer him to lunch in the upcoming weeks as a means to catch up, he only agrees under the guise that he can keep an eye on your condition while making sure you actually eat
❀° ┄───╮
a/n: wowza that was a lot 😵‍💫
y’all i love this game so much it’s not even funny— zayne my beloved pookie bear oml
i hope y’all enjoyed this fr, maybe i’ll write something(s) inspired by this au and hopefully expand on some of the headcanons ‼️
if y’all get some inspiration off of this pls tag me i wanna read yalls work so badlyyyy okay bye guys mwahhhh 🫶🏾
╰───┄ °❀
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sixosix · 1 year
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(not just a) one night something | itoshi sae
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rumors spread, and your friendship with sae gets complicated enough to help you fix your problem
( ? ) itoshi sae x fem!reader
( ! ) probably ooc sae, supposed unrequited pining, time skips, meet again, failed date shenanigans, getting together, CHILDHOOD FRIENDS!!! this is so. terrible actually omfg.
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“i think i like itoshi.”
kamiko pauses mid-lick on her popsicle as she follows where your eyes are intently focused: a nimble boy with pale brown-red hair, swerving a soccer ball around like it’s one with him, just another limb.
“sae-kun?” kamiko asks, brows furrowing. “aren’t you friends with him?”
“mhm.” you nod, watching him play with a bright smile. your view of his play isn’t hindered even from behind the fence.
the ball drifts past right in front of where you and kamiko are situated side-by-side on the grass; then, a gust of wind howls past and flaps your hair, and the culprit is in the form of itoshi sae, who looks as if he’s barely moving with how seamless he moves across the field of heaving boys.
there’s something entrancing about how he handles the ball—ruthless and decisive. in class, he’d just be sitting by himself, bored, while people flock around him like moths to a flame. but here, he’s thriving, nearly smiling if you know itoshi sae well enough. and you do.
even under where the sun is too high, and you’re feeling too warm in this light shirt, sae is untouched.
“he’s really cool,” you continue after a beat, and kamiko harrumphs.
“i like sae-kun, too,” she declares.
“oh,” you blink. you suppose best friends don’t have a free pass. “should we rock, paper, scissors it?”
you do rock, and she does scissors. you let out a little, woo! because you don’t get to win this often. rock, paper, scissors is always the easiest way to settle things.
“this is stupid!” kamiko fumes, her ears red from embarrassment.
you laugh, waving it off. “sorry, miko-chan. d’you want my candy as truce?”
kamiko pouts and takes it from you, still huffy and pouty.
when you turn back to watch the game, there’s a second where sae catches your eye, wiping sweat off his forehead. it spears into you, as sharp as how he sent the soccer ball straight in the net moments ago.
yells, cheers, the ball falls back onto the grass, sae quirks an eyebrow, waving once— victory—! your pulse jumps, and you barely have a moment to wave back.
blinking again, he’s already turning away, leaving you lost like you just lost a goal to him.
“hey,” kamiko nudges you, “you okay?”
you stare after sae’s back, heart racing. “it’s nothing,” you finally say, and kamiko’s brows are furrowed as she looks at you.
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the day starts as usual, and it makes you feel off.
nothing seems out of place. your bed is exactly where it’s supposed to be; breakfast is your favorite, served precisely how you like it. you even arrived on time for class. nothing seems wrong, and it’s making you nervous because there’s a clawing feeling in your chest for no reason.
there seems to be nothing but clear skies, sunny with bright blue. birds singing, leaves fluttering and crunching under your feet, and the way to school is just smooth sailing. there is nothing out of place.
but the moment you step onto your classroom, everyone’s gazes cut into you. there’s a gleam in all of them, making you seize up, glancing around warily.
“what?” you ask defensively, scowling.
“hey, y/n-chan, is it true that you like sae?” one of your classmates asks, wearing a smile that spells out nothing but trouble.
“what…?” you stare at him, bewildered. “where did you get that?”
“from everyone, really. it was a hot topic earlier, didn’t you hear?”
it shouldn’t make you feel as shameful as it is, but the way everyone in the room is giggling and the way their eyes feel like they’re everywhere—in each corner of the room, on the floor, groping your body—makes you want to leave the room right and there, yet your feet are glued to the floor.
“you’re crushing on your friend? that’s so awkward!”
“way to ruin your friendship with someone like sae-kun…”
“haha! you think you have a chance, y/n?” someone else whispers from the sides. “that’s so brave of you.”
mortification boils in your stomach, and you feel it in the way your throat constricts, and your hands shake. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.” why do they care? do they have to stare this much?
“you’re so nervous!” she laughs, leering cruelly. “so it’s true!”
“leave me alone,” you snarl, fuming. with anger or humiliation? you don’t know.
all you know is that you only told one person about it, which can only mean one thing. you catch her eye, and at least, kamiko has the decency to look guilty.
you don’t know what went down earlier and what you did to make kamiko spill your confession, but what’s done is done, and there’s no use denying it when you’ve already lashed out.
you push past the students crowding around you and tune all their mocking sneers out, wishing the day would just end already.
you could get out right now, leave the room and pretend you were sick to not face any more of their suffocating scrutiny. but that is admitting defeat over petty gossip, and you will not have them winning over you just because of a stupid crush.
the door creaks open again, and the whispers increase with fervor and strength. a chair screeches against the tiles before it pauses, and suddenly everyone shuts up. you can feel someone’s stare drilling craters on the back of your head, but you don’t trust yourself to be able to look back, knowing who it is without even trying.
“y/n.”
you bury your face in your arms.
sae tries again. “who did this to you?”
“not now, itoshi. leave me alone.”
“stupid,” sae grumbles under his breath.
that day, when you shove past everyone and ignore kamiko and sae calling after you, is the day any affection towards sae is buried by disgust towards yourself.
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your prayers are answered when news spreads out that sae is off to spain the next day.
it is sudden, despite his younger brother answering questions saying that yes, he’s already been planning to for a while; no, this is not sudden. and you know it, too, because sae told you about it before; you were just not expecting it to be this soon.
however, coincidence or not, you’re just relieved to know that you don’t have to embarrass yourself in front of your best friend ever again.
someone jokes that you scared him away, and you tell them that you’re grateful you did before you punch someone in front of him.
he never said goodbye.
whatever. he’s probably disgusted at you anyway.
(he becomes a star; you forget about itoshi sae for years.)
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YEARS LATER.
“ahhh—finally!” kamiko wails, stretching her arms over her head at what looks to be a painful angle.
you groan, nearly losing balance and passing out on the floor, but unfortunately, kamiko is quick enough to tip you back. “ugh, that felt like ages. what if i just drop out? i could just do that now.”
“don’t,” kamiko laughs, patting your head lightly, pinky high and everything, “you’ll die worse than before if you give up now.”
you swat her hand away.
it took a while before you and kamiko got along again.
years, even. you think you still can’t accept her apology, but eventually, you got over your crush, people stopped talking about the incident, and your bitterness towards her left along with it. not like you could even try getting rid of her when she trails after you like a lost puppy, anyway.
so now here you are, in a reluctant friendship with kamiko, despite everything. it’s not worth losing a friendship over some boy, whether or not it’s itoshi sae.
so long as she knows what she did was wrong, she’s fine, you suppose. she hasn’t done anything else after that, so you let it be.
“you’re right. i can’t drop out when finals just ended,” you sigh, slumping. “i’ll do it when the next term starts so i don’t put myself through that again.”
“so dramatic,” kamiko giggles. “i’ll support whatever you do, okay?”
you roll your eyes, hip-checking her. “i know.”
like every poisoned teenager in the modern age, you reach for your phone and mindlessly scroll through as kamiko lists off her plans for the entire school break. something about flying out of the country for vacation, and you should consider coming. (the answer is no, obviously.)
“don’t hole yourself up in your room, y/n-chan!” kamiko scolds; it reminds you of a fretting mother hen. “that’s not healthy. we don’t get breaks often—have fun with it as much as you can.”
“okay,” you murmur, only half-heartedly listening in lieu of searching for a new series to binge over break. there’s nothing interesting. you scowl.
“hey, look,” kamiko remarks, tapping at your screen to pause at one article. “my feed has been all about soccer lately, too. i never even liked anything about sports!”
“weird,” you agree, but you don’t think too much about it. the familiar view of your neighborhood washes over your eyes, and you pause, . “hey, my stop is here. see you after break?”
kamiko pecks your cheek, “see you, then!”
you bid goodbyes, and the day should end just like that: on a high note, free from the shackles of student torture. when you reach your home, though, the weariness is overshadowed by sudden restlessness.
“ugh,” you say again because you already know what to do to cool off.
a school break is exactly what you need.
a school break should be spent at home, probably lying on the bed sleeping, and if not dozing off, then just lying somewhere with music blasting to muffle any thoughts in your head. it is meant to relax, waste time away, and regret it the next day because you never did anything you wanted to.
but the weather is still perfect; the setting sun isn’t smothered by gray clouds, nor is the wind sipping warmth off of your body. it’s not every day your mood matches the weather, so you get up, dress nice enough to not look like a zombie who had to take a math exam, and head out.
“stupid kamiko and her romanticized lifestyle,” you gripe, hugging your arms when your pace picks up speed. “’s starting to get to me, too.”
the theaters could be a good place to start, you muse, scanning the posters on the walls.
superhero action? eh. cheesy romcom? maybe not when you’re still reeling from finals. horror? might scare the stress away, sure, but the movie doesn’t look appealing.
you move to the next, when out of the blue, a body pushes up against you, almost shoving you to the screen.
“hey, back up a little, would you?” you hiss under your breath, spinning around to face a man that makes you pause for a moment out of surprise. he’s crowding behind you like he wants something, and he is suspiciously familiar—you just can’t put a finger on it.
he lifts an eyebrow. “you talking to me?”
your face scrunches, curiosity shattering instantly. “who else is there?”
“no.” the man shakes his head, staring right at you. “you talking to me like that?”
“okay, you don’t have to be a little—”
he scoffs, and that constipated, dead-inside face he’s making clicks puzzle to its empty slots.
that aggravating attitude, exuding confidence and arrogance with every word; two thick strands of hair framing the sides of his face, and that biting stare in green eyes—
“itoshi?” you blabber, dumbfounded.
you’re not sure why you didn’t recognize him instantly, but now that you are, you almost want to let your jaw hang open with how much he’s grown into his features, all spiky strands and soft skin.
the years have been treating him a little too well, it seems.
sae’s eyes sharpen at you before he quickly looks around, surveying the oblivious crowd—utterly unaware of japan’s golden boy cornering a helpless little you in front of a movie poster.
you follow his gaze and snort at his wary expression. “are you hiding from someone?”
sae’s gaze swivels back, and suddenly, your laughter dies down. “come watch the movie with me.”
you turn behind you, gazing at the poster featuring a boy jumping high up in the air, reaching for a ball, then back to itoshi sae, who looks like he’d rather bury himself on his bed than be here.
“we haven’t even seen each other for so long.”
sae looks at you with an expression that speaks: so?
“this is…” you slowly say, “a volleyball movie.”
again, with the look: and i care, because…?
you splutter, hands raised in defense. “well, isn’t soccer your whole shebang?”
“you like it,” he says, unblinking, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the poster, “we will watch it.”
“i didn’t even say anything about liking it—”
seemingly having enough of your stalling, he tugs on your wrist and leads you to where the movie you “chose” is showing. you keep talking in hopes of scaring him off to spain once again, but he seems determined to ignore you, and it’s not in the way you need at the moment.
since when did he even get tickets?
“at least take me to dinner first, jeez,” you grumble when he leads you to two seats in the far corner.
“it’s not like i’m asking you to sleep with me. and aren’t movies counted as dates?” sae counters easily, plopping down on the seat next to you, as if he didn’t just drag you into this just to hide from god knows who.
“okay, genius, answer me this: who are you even running from?”
sae isn’t the type to squirm, but the face he makes might as well be the closest you can get out of him. “i don’t want to do stupid photoshoots.”
although your friendship with sae felt mostly one-sided because of how inexpressive he is, you’re glad you can read him more easily than anyone else. it makes you feel giddy, even if you know that he never explained why he didn’t say goodbye, and your last interaction was, to be frank, mortifying.
but right now, he isn’t saying anything about it. he isn’t even looking at you’re a pebble he kicked off the side of the road, like he usually does to everyone else. so this might be good—maybe sae actually has a heart in there, willing to spare you from embarrassment just to continue this friendship.
even when here, he’s a celebrity, and you’re just a childhood friend who had a crush on him.
you might have liked him because of that—a star the world can’t handle just yet in the body of one boy. he lets you stay by his side, even if you could never follow after him. he’s always there; if he’s not, he comes back somehow, a pull of gravity bringing you together.
with a long, dragged-out sigh at that thought and this situation, you lean against the headrest. “i’m on school break. i wish you just chose some pretty girl to drag into your undercover mission.”
“i did.”
you turn to face him with a grimace, but he’s looking right at you without a hint of amusement. just faint confusion, as if he’s wondering why you’re even wishing for something like that.
deciding to ignore his comment, you continue, “i feel like i’m about to get handcuffed the moment someone sees us together. not the best way to spend my break, itoshi.”
“you won’t,” sae huffs, and it almost sounds like a laugh. “just watch the damn movie.”
stunned at the slight upturn of his lips, you wordlessly watch the screen in front of you, but nothing about it is on your mind and is instead on the boy who you never thought you would see again.
(as always, even with blaring signs and butterflies in your stomach, you choose not to overthink it.)
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“i can’t believe you sat through the entire movie,” you remark as soon as the credits roll, chuckling from disbelief.
sae usually leaves halfway through and doesn’t remember anything about it the moment he steps out. that is, if he even bothers watching in theaters in the first place. it’s soccer, soccer, soccer for him, and there is no hope in getting him out of it.
he faces you with a blank stare. “if you wanted to leave, you could’ve just told me.”
“and do that to you when you looked so captivated by a volleyball movie?” you snort, recalling the near-starstruck expression on his face you caught a glimpse of during the climax of the movie. “i’m no monster, itoshi.”
sae blinks, turning away with a scowl. “you were seeing things.”
you give him a helpless, fond smile and thank the heavens he doesn’t see it.
abruptly, he stands up and begins walking away, taking your hand along with it. his hand is warm, and your face is getting warmer, borderline hot, the more he continues doing literally anything.
for someone hiding from a photoshoot, he sure is roaming around with someone else in tow too freely.
“let’s eat dinner.”
“what? stop taking me hostage,” you whine, wriggling in his grip. onlookers give you glances before double-taking when their eyes catch a glimpse of an itoshi sae out in the wild. “i know you missed me and all, but if you keep dragging me everywhere, i’ll start screaming for help.”
“y/n,” he warns, with a slight glare.
you’re pretty sure your eyebrows reach your hairline hearing that from him. a pause, then: “you still remember my name.”
sae frowns. “what do you take me for?”
“an asshole.”
he shrugs and doesn’t deny it. “we were best friends.”
right, your gaze rips away from his, frowning at the floor. best friends. were best friends, ex-friend, classmate from years ago—that’s what you are to sae right now, and who are you to force yourself any more into his life again? look at how that ended up last time.
“actually,” you rip your wrist away from his grasp, trying to hide the hurt that is probably flashing across your face, “i don’t know if i want to eat dinner here, itoshi…”
sae’s frown deepens, but thankfully doesn’t push. “then, give me your number.”
“my number…?”
“you didn’t have a phone before i left,” he explains, with a hand patiently stretched out. “give me your number.”
you reluctantly grant him your phone to show the screen where a series of digits are displayed. dutifully, sae types it down on his own phone, which is probably the latest brand of the most expensive one you can think of.
“what is that for?” you ask, belatedly, once sae’s handed your phone back to you.
“you said you’re on school break. i’m taking you out tomorrow.”
“take me out?”
sae quirks a brow, amused. “are you complaining? didn’t you used to have a crush on me?”
you feel your face go up in flames, mortified. “had. had! that was ages ago. i don’t—”
of course. of course sae didn’t forget! he wouldn’t bring it up early to scare you off into spain, and now he’s cornered you right where he wants you. damn him!
sae tilts his head, inching closer, “you don’t?”
the whiff of his cologne and the dizzying proximity kills off the lies you were about to spew.
with a cough, you glower, “didn’t know you were so obsessed with me that you still remember something as stupid as that.”
he huffs a short laugh and lets you reel from assumptions by staying silent.
god, does he have to be so infuriating? you can almost feel your collar looming over your pulse the more those sharp green pierce straight right at where it hurts the most.
fuck.
this is the part where you realize that even after all this time, sae is still infuriatingly handsome. and even now that you’re mature and can tell right from wrong, you’re still attracted to him. gravity pulling, tugging right back into his palm.
(he is a star; how could you even think of forgetting about the same person you orbit around?)
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you slam your hands on the counter, startling your friend into nearly dropping her phone straight onto the marble floor. “i like itoshi sae,” you declare, and recoil at saying that out loud.
kamiko perks up in confusion, blinking owlishly. “what?”
“i like itoshi sae,” you repeat, horrified. “again!” as if once wasn’t traumatizing enough.
she realizes she heard it right the first time and her jaw drops to the floor. “wait, how? what happened? what the hell did i miss? break just started yesterday—”
“he’s back in japan!” you weep, clutching your head with a grip strong enough to rip skin. “and i ran into him…?”
“is that a question or a statement?”
“shut up! he, like, roped me into watching a movie with him, and we spent the entire night together—”
“you had a one-night stand with itoshi sae?”
“not like that!” you shriek, heart bursting so wildly that blood rushes to your cheeks instantly. the implications of that are something you want to ignore. “i was just his… one-night girlfriend. except we didn’t do anything, it was barely even a date.” admitting it aloud makes you realize how stupid it sounds.
“y/n-chan!” kamiko gasps, eyes sparkling so bright you’d think she’s trying to blind you from excitement. she ambles over and grabs both of your hands. “y/n-chan, that is so incredibly stupid of you; you have to tell me everything that happened!”
“hey.” you frown, scandalized. “didn’t you like itoshi, too? and we fought over him through rock, paper, and scissors.”
kamiko’s eyes widen comically, slapping a hand over your mouth. “don’t say that!” she hisses, looking around as if you two aren’t the only ones in her kitchen. “my boyfriend might beat up your boyfriend before he even gets to be your boyfriend!”
the thought of kamiko’s spindly-built boyfriend fighting against soccer genius itoshi sae is a hilarious visual image.
“i’d like to see him try,” you laugh, pulling her hand away.
kamiko lifts one eyebrow, clearly wanting to point out that you didn’t deny anything about sae being your boyfriend. she pulls out her phone and starts researching, looking for any juicy information about japan’s golden boy. “i didn’t know itoshi-kun was back here. is that why my feed has been bombarded with soccer news?”
“i didn’t know either,” you wail, rolling your head to face heavenwards, ready to be taken in. “if i did, i never would’ve gotten out. i wouldn’t be in this mess, then. you’re leaving tomorrow, right? take me with you. i’ll start packing.”
kamiko shakes her head, drawing you back to her. “i’m sorry, y/n-chan. you have to face this like a real man!” with a free hand on your shoulder and fists pumping for effect.
you scowl. she’s betrayed you twice now. “weren’t you the one who wanted me to come!?”
kamiko turns back to her phone, curious. “hey, look. there was an interview earlier…”
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sae texted you that same morning after that conversation with kamiko, telling you that he wanted to meet up and see you again. he said he still wanted to eat dinner and asked if you still didn’t want to, but after witnessing the car crash of an interview, you demand answers from him.
right now, though, you’re suddenly regretting not bringing a coat and scarf large enough to avoid any passerby glancing at you and wondering why you looked so familiar.
speaking of:
“hey, did you hear about itoshi’s interview?”
“what? what? itoshi the soccer kid?”
“yes! he said he’s seeing someone!”
“he can’t be! he hasn’t even met me yet!”
“was it the girl people saw with him last night?”
“wow, and here i thought his kind aren’t the type to be interested in romance…”
it’s that interview again. they haven’t stopped talking about it since the release. is that the easiest way to hook the entire population’s attention? stir romance and some celebrity in a pot, and suddenly, it’s pouring out money.
you want to muffle both your ears with your palms, but that would draw more unwanted attention, and you’re already running a bit late to your “date” with itoshi sae.
your heart is pounding. you want to get in there and hold it until it calms down.
“y/n.” a hand catches your arm, tugging you to a chest.
sae is holding you. “you almost ran past me.”
you blink, eyes round. “i was running?”
“from me, it almost seemed like,” he says, and pulls away only to take one good look at you. “you dressed up.”
“i did for you,” you nod, pleased, because you know he means that he thinks you look good. but no. first: “i might’ve been running because of that interview”
sae’s composed expression wavers, for a moment. he avoids your eye, glancing around with deeply furrowed brows. for anyone, he looks like he somehow got stomach cramps, but to you, this is easily translatable as sae being flustered.
“there is nothing to explain.”
“itoshi.” you grab him by the shoulders, heart racing and eyes wild. “you dragged me into a movie date last night. if it turns out you’re already in a relationship, i am going to kick your ass all the way to spain for playing with me—”
sae cups both of your cheeks in return. “i was talking about you, stupid. who else would be there? you think i’d look at anyone else?”
sae glowers at the ground when you try to meet his eyes, murmuring, “there are not a lot of things in japan that interest me. i have my own goals, but i am not immune to this. if you weren’t here, i wouldn’t bother staying— why are you crying?”
“itoshi!!!!” you hug him, sniffling. “i thought— i thought you left and didn’t care for me anymore! i thought i scared you off to spain when you heard about my massive crush on you!”
sae’s face is a mix of constipated and flabbergasted, but he doesn’t make any move to push you away. “what do you mean? you already knew about my feelings for you.”
“...when?” if sae confessed to you in any way, you definitely don’t remember anything, which means it never happened. if sae ever proclaimed his love for you, it’d be the only thing on your mind.
“we went on a date.” sae looks as confused as you are. “did you not know? it was obvious.”
“...what about your attitude made it obvious!?”
“you’re into my attitude.”
“shut up, itoshi.” you lightly hit his chest, overwhelmed by the flurry of emotions that keeps crashing over your soul, “promise me i’m not just a one-time thing?”
“never. you’re never just that.” much to your surprise, sae pulls you in by the waist and smiles. it’s small, barely visible, but it’s still there. “and it’s sae, dumbass. can we get on with the date now?”
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“—another question, itoshi-kun,” the interview starts, sliding closer to the edge of her seat to inspect any of itoshi’s micro-expressions (not that she’d get any since sae can easily compose himself, and only those who can understand him well enough can look past that), “pictures from last night are spreading like wildfire! tell us, who were you with?”
sae doesn’t hesitate: “it’s none of your business.”
“hm, but you sure didn’t act that way when you let yourself be seen in public like that,” she says, and though her expression doesn’t give it away, she’s riling him up on purpose.
itoshi’s eyebrow twitches slightly. he looks impatient. “i’m not ashamed to be seen with her, so don’t fucking bother trying anything. what i have with her is out of your concern.”
“so, does that mean—”
“yes, i’m seeing someone,” he cuts her off smoothly, running thin, “and yes, who you saw is the one for me. are you going to keep asking questions unrelated to soccer? i’m going to leave.”
he does leave before the interview can even reply, checking his phone and typing:
sae
let’s meet again.
i want to see you.
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a/n: just wanna say: i literally know NOTHING about this man and only based his characterization off of glimpses and scenes i saw from the manga (and for me to translate a soccer match to a romantic fic is torture). so the fact out of everyone in blue lock, a fic about sae has the highest word count is insanity. i need to balance it out with bachira and isagi fics asap.
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icallhimjoey · 6 months
Text
Lost & Found
♥ ♥  Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader     Summary: You take a little break, a week away to somewhere warm to relax and calm your senses. So does Joe – same flight, same hotel, same travel plans and, worst of all, same suitcase. What was meant to be a lovely trip to the sun starts off on the wrong foot when you find expensive designer outfits belonging to a man in what you thought was your suitcase.     CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, lots of swearing, we get a little spicy but nothing too bad, 18+ just in case though!     Author’s note: I asked for requests and then used 0 of them – sorry – this is one of those things that started in a whatsapp chat and started living its own life fairly quickly. Wasn't meant to become a five-parter but, big sigh, here we are... I hope you enjoy this first part!    Wordcount: 3.4K  
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part one - part two - part three - part four - part five
Of course. Of fucking course.  
Something always had to go fucking wrong, didn’t it? Couldn’t just be smooth fucking sailing for once, could it?    
Jesus fucking Christ.  
Joe massaged his temples as he let his breath escape through flared nostrils.   
Typical.  
He’s just flung his suitcase onto the bed, ready to charge what needed charging and to change what needed changing. The heavy bounce of it should’ve told him something was off.  
That wasn’t his. 
It wasn't his suitcase that he'd just flung onto his hotel bed.   
It looked enough like it, but his three-digit code didn't unlock it, and upon closer inspection, this one had a lot of marks on it that suggested it had been used a lot more and for a lot longer.    
Not his suitcase.  
Same brand. Same colour. Same model. Not his.  
He'd taken the wrong suitcase. Like the day hadn't been long enough already.  
The warm breeze had felt glorious when he'd stepped off the plane, the temperature balmy enough to really make him feel the difference when walked down the stairs onto the tarmac. The sun had been out, and he'd felt how it immediately relaxed his shoulders. It was exactly what he needed, why he even booked the trip in the first place, he thought, slipping his sunglasses down from the top of his head onto his nose.  
Sun. Warmth from up above that clung in the air that surrounded him.  
Was nice.
Lovely.
He'd gotten what he'd thought was his suitcase from the conveyer belt no problem, finding it quickly. Then it only took a minute to wait for a taxi that took him to his hotel. He'd booked a room in the kind of place you didn't need to leave at all if you didn't really want to – nice hotel restaurant downstairs, nice hotel rooftop bar upstairs, big pool surrounded by sun loungers outside and a view of the beach just behind it. Not quite a resort, but, kind of a resort, if you asked his mum. 
It was exactly what he'd needed. A few days away from the hustle and bustle of daily-life-sludge Joe felt he'd had a hard time wading through. Just a quick break to get his sun-starved skin some much needed vitamin D. Make the freckles that hid underneath his skin show up. It was the time of year when temperatures dropped fairly quickly once the sun went down, but the days were gorgeous still. The type of hot where you could sit in direct sunlight in the middle of the day without feeling like you were melting but still get tanned all over.  
Joe should've felt lucky, because that was what he'd been announcing to the world a lot lately. "I feel very lucky," over and over until it caught up with him.  
"Quick few days away will sort you out," his mum had told him over the phone, and mother's always knew best, didn't they?
So he'd just gone and booked it. Went, fuck it, this looks nice, I want to go there.
And now he was here.
He had five full days all to himself, travel days not included, in which he’d get to truly switch off a second. Enough time to listen to his favourite podcast for however long he wanted without being interrupted halfway through an episode. Enough time to finally get past page five of this book he’d started reading three times already. Enough time to work through his inbox at a leisurely pace. Have whichever drink whenever.   
Joe was meant to feel all lucky.   
It was just that... he'd just flung a suitcase onto his hotel bed that wasn't his, and... now what? The good bits felt all fucked up, the positive twisted, leaving him with just the negative frustrating shit. 
Trip fucking ruined already, and he'd not even been there two hours. 
All he had on him were his passport, his phone, a pair of wireless headphones that were running low on battery and his bank cards. He'd foregone bringing a backpack as carry-on, checking in his suitcase, and feeling very free as he'd walked through the TSA screening with barely anything on him.   
Now he regretted every single decision he'd made that lead up to this moment.   
Unbeknownst to him, you were just two floors up, in the same hotel, in a room that looked identical, also stood by your hotel bed. Difference was, you'd just opened what you thought was your suitcase, only to be met by a bunch of stuff that wasn't yours.   
You didn't own anything pinstriped. Or, um, Dior.  
You checked the code that you hadn't changed to open it – that wasn't what you'd set it as.   
That wasn't your suitcase.   
“Um, what the fuck?”  
Whoever the suitcase belonged to had shut it but then hadn't run a thumb over the numbered wheels to make sure anyone without the right combination couldn't open it – an idiot, you thought.   
And idiot with... very expensive clothes. Men's clothes.   
For a moment far too long, you just looked at what was in front of you and processed what this meant.
You didn’t have your things.
Your stuff.
No dress to slip into. No bikini to wear underneath.
Shit.
You'd have to phone the airline, let them know you'd taken the wrong suitcase. Yours had probably been brought over to lost and found, the owner of this one probably hoping his would be there too. Except it wasn't. It was a 40-minute taxi ride removed from lost and found, up on the 11th floor of a nice beach hotel. With you.  
Shit.   
You looked down at your own top, the stains from the bottle of coke that had sprayed everywhere upon the first cap-twist still evident.   
Fuck.  
This first evening you'd booked a table downstairs for dinner, and then were planning on having drinks upstairs to really make sure you'd knock yourself out cold until at least 10.30am the next morning.   
You threw an arm up and smelled an armpit.  
Rank.
Yea, no way you were going to do those things in the outfit you currently had on.   
"Hi, I have a question regarding baggage claim? Is there a service agent I can talk to? It appears I have taken the wrong suitcase by accident."  
Joe sighed as he got put on hold for a minute, only to be told later to please return the suitcase to baggage claim. He hoped they'd be able to give him any other information that didn't involve him traveling back there. Also, maybe a little info on whether or not his suitcase had been left behind and was now in lost and found, or if someone else had taken it.   
"Please find the baggage claim customer service desk, and we'll be able to help you locate your luggage from there."   
All right. Fine.   
Was he going to do that tonight? After just getting to the hotel, now hungry and tired and in need of some good food and a good night's sleep?  
No.  
Probably not the nicest thing, since, you know, someone else was likely also trying to track down what he was storing in his hotel room right now, but Joe had a dinner reservation for one he wanted to get to. Had scanned the menu online beforehand and was craving the steak tartare now. It just sucked he was going to have that in the same outfit he'd worn traveling there, as well as the rest of the night and the next morning.   
Deep breaths, Joe. Big gulps of air. Take a step back. Zoom out a little.
In the grand scheme of things... this was just annoying. Not the end of the world.
He'd fetch a spare charger for his phone from the front desk, have his meal, have a nice drink, and do his very best not to think about all the things that frustrated him for the rest of the night.  
But, that was easier said that done.  
Especially when, halfway through dinner, a pretty girl walked in wearing what looked suspiciously similar to one of his shirts.
Nah.   
Couldn't be.  
He was probably just seeing things. Was just looking because she was pretty. Was too tired. Had one drink too many.
Was grumpy about the fact that the only charger the hotel had for him didn't fit the outlets here, and they didn't have a plug adapter for him to make it work.   
Was more grumpy about the fact that you'd sat down in his direct line of sight. You know, since he couldn't just burrow himself into his phone for fear of the battery dying on him.   
Was most grumpy that the shirt looked better on you than it did on him.  
For fuck's sake.  
And he wasn't even sure if he even packed that shirt at all! 
For his own sanity, he convinced himself he didn’t pack it.  
Lots of people had shirts like it. Faded orangey colour. Striped. The one he owned probably wasn't quite as pink as this one. Or maybe it was... but, even so, it could be the exact same one, still didn’t need to be his. 
It was a little more difficult however, when upstairs at the bar, after the first sip of his gin martini, he saw you walk out in a jacket that he knew for a fact he’d packed.  
That was his jacket.
Stop it, Joe thought. You've gone mad.
Just a coincidence.
Big coincidence, though... wasn't it?
“you’ve overworked me, i should get another week” he texted his agent, blaming the fact that he was seeing things on that, and received a “lol no” in return.  
Joe was still annoyed the next morning when he climbed into a taxi, phone about to die any second now.
Had you been out the door about twenty seconds earlier, you'd have run into him.
Somehow, traffic turned the twenty seconds into over ten minutes. Joe was already standing by the baggage claim service desk, your suitcase on the floor next to him, patiently waiting as the lady behind the computer typed away with eyes stuck to a computer screen Joe couldn't see. 
You walked up, eyes on your phone, occasionally looking up for signs that pointed you in the right direction. You didn't even notice Joe, or your suitcase on the floor next to him. 
"At airport now, fingers crossed" you texted a friend, and got a quick, "it's there, it's GOT TO BE there" from her in response. It wasn't until the guy in front of you turned around, gave you a polite smile, and then did a double take for you to see it. 
Your suitcase.
"My suitcase!" 
"My jacket."
Oh.
Oh, fuck. 
You were standing in front of the guy whose suitcase you'd gone through the night before. Whose suitcase you did your best to pack so it didn't look like you'd gone through every single thing that was in there. Whose pinstriped jacket you'd thrown on because it was the morning still, a little chilly for... just his T-shirt that you wore underneath. 
You immediately forgot how to function as a normal humanbeing. 
Error 404: cognitive function not found.
"Um, I–I..." you faltered, blood heating your cheeks, and you saw how the brow of stranger in front of you slowly furrowed as his eyes scanned down your body. 
Fuck. 
Now, you see, in your defence... you were left to your own devices, just, all alone in a hotel room, unsupervised, with a suitcase that was full of special, unknown things. Lots of treasures and, expensive designer clothing... how was anyone to expect you to be sensible and not snoop? 
Of course you were going to be snooping.
You snooped.
Were a tried-and-true snooper.
It was just that... you hadn't just snooped, had you? 
Hadn't just let your eyes roam. 
You'd gotten your hands in there almost instantly. 
You'd called a friend, and explained your situation, and had then switched the regular call to Facetime to go through the whole thing together. Toiletry bag and all. Every single item had passed your grip, and you'd tried on more items than you dared admitting to anyone – the boyfriend-fit of every single item had made you consider maybe just... keeping a shirt.
"Fuck me, that looks good on you. Keep it." your friend only egged you on.
"I can't keep it," you said, checking yourself in the mirror before asking your friend to google for prices, wanting to know how much this had cost the owner of the suitcase.
When she told you, you took a moment to let that sink in before you said, "Yea, maybe I should keep it."
That jacket, or perhaps the one pair of jeans. Claim you'd just found the suitcase like that. He'd left it unlocked, anyway.
"Look at this, this... this is clearly someone on a business trip, there's suits, but then, look, he's got two-in-one shampoo and conditioner in his toiletry bag," you held up the bottle close enough to your perched up phone to show it properly. 
"Who takes shampoo on a business trip? Surely you just use whatever they have at the hotel?" your friend made a good point. 
"Especially two-in-fucking-one," you tossed the bottle onto your bed, next to all the other shit you were fishing out. Razor, nail clippers, a moisturizer of which you didn't even recognise the brand - very fancy.
"Men are insane,"
"Even the rich ones, apparently," 
"Especially the rich ones."
It'd been a good half hour of giggles before you'd decided you were just going to wear one of his shirts to dinner. Why not? You could fold it up nicer than the way you'd found it in there. You'd be fine.
He just... he wasn't meant to actually see you in his clothes. You were wearing literal proof of what you were desperately wanting to hide.
How were you going to talk yourself out of this? 
Were you just going to be honest? 
Look at him.
Of course you weren't going to be honest. This man would've made you nervous even if you hadn't shown up in his literal clothes, revealing you'd not just opened the suitcase to see it wasn't yours - you'd gone through it and were now wearing what was his.  
"Oh, excellent!" the lady behind the desk stood up and peered over the desk at the floor, at the two similar suitcases. "This will be a lot easier now," she stepped around with a little scanning device, scanned both labels that you, thank God, both hadn't touched. Imagine if you'd have ripped that off. You'd no idea what that would've meant, but surely it would have made the whole situation a lot more complicated. 
You were contemplating pretending to be crazy. Or stupid. Just really, really, really stupid. 
Shut the fuck up why did he not stop staring at you? Could he look away for just a second, maybe? 
"I didn't mean to– I only opened it this morning, I didn't have anything to we–" you rambled, stumbled through little white lies and stopped when you saw the faintest little hint of amusement on Joe's face.
"Are you going to sue me?" you winced.
"No," his smile grew, but he held out a hand. For the jacket, you presumed. 
"There, all settled." the baggage claim service agent smiled. "This one is yours, and this one is yours." 
"Thank you," Joe smiled at her – she'd done her job. You saw it was just him being polite before his attention turned back to you.
"Um, I won't sue you. But I would like my clothes back..." his hand was still there and you realised that you fully understood the body language, but hadn't actually moved to take it off yet. 
"Yes, of course! Sorry, I was– the plan was that I'd fetch my own suitcase from lost and found and then would change into my own stuff, and–" you squeezed your eyes shut, letting the jacket slide from your shoulders, knowing that you sounded absolutely insane. "You weren't meant to find out." you huffed a laugh, hoping that finding humour in the situation would make him copy it.
"Not exactly a water proof plan," Joe gave you a nod and looked at you a little apprehensively, head tilted down, as you handed over the jacket that he folded over his forearm.
"Well, had you not been here yet, I would've gotten off scot-free," you joked lightly, confidence creeping in a little as you raised your eyebrows at him just before kneeling down next to your suitcase and tipping it onto its side to open it.
"Ah," Joe nodded, all understanding, but his face quickly twisted in exaggerated confusion. "So... that wasn't you in my shirt last night?" 
Your neck cracked with how fast it snapped to look back up at him. Deer in headlights, eyes wide in shock, blush deepening. Had you ever felt sweat prickling in your pits before? 
"I–"
"And red jacket?"
Fucking fuck shit. You were such a fucking idiot.
"Red?" you focussed entirely on the wrong thing, but, what else was there to do in a panic? "No, t'was more of a brownish sort of–"
"Burgundy." Joe cut you off.
You looked at each other for a long moment where it took you a smidge too long to close the mouth you'd left hanging open.
My God.
You'd really worked yourself into a corner here, hadn't you?
"Is that... is that my T-shirt?" 
It got worse fast, though.
You looked down to see for yourself, eyes still huge, and for what? To check if you were still wearing the black T-shirt? You knew you were wearing his T-shirt. It was why you'd opened your suitcase in the first place, to fetch something of your own to change into. To take into a toilet stall so you could give him back what belonged to him, and if you were quick, give it back without pit stains. 
When you looked back up, you felt how the blush was now making your neck and chest break out in hives. There really wasn't a way out of this. Caught red-handed, you had no other choice but to surrender and admit to every single wrong choice you'd made. Not willing to speak the actual confession into existence, you let your arms move on their own accord and just... moved to take the T-shirt off. One of your arms disappeared into the T-shirt, out of the sleeve, and you were about to pull the whole thing over your head when you were stopped.
"No– no, stop, don't–" he laughed. Planted a hand on your shoulder – the one of which the arm was stuck inside the T-shirt now.  
You stopped, listening to his instructions from your kneeled position on the floor. 
Joe wasn't going to let you undress into just your bra in the middle of an airport. This was a weird beginning to his trip but, was it really that bad? He'd gotten his suitcase back. That was what he'd wished for ever since finding out he'd taken the wrong one, and now, it had been returned to him.
He'd gotten what he'd wished for.
So what if a pretty girl borrowed some of his clothes for a second? It probably only meant that some of it smelled nicer now. She looked like she felt bad enough about it, too.
No big deal.
"Are we staying at the same hotel?"
"I... I think so?" you sat unmoved.
"If you could leave that at the front desk, I'll just... it's fine, I'll pick it up there," the frown that graced this man's features earlier seemingly had been sarcastic. Or, he'd just turned friendly. Either way, everything about his face told you not to worry about it.
Well, tough. Fuck him. You were worrying. This was so awkward. 
You very slowly moved your arm back into the sleeve of the T-shirt and then moved to close your suitcase. 
"Okay," your voice had never sounded thicker with hesitation.
"Okay?" Joe laughed.
"Yea," you sighed. "Yea, all right. I'm sorry." you winced as you clicked your suitcase shut and got back up onto your feet.
"It's fine." Joe waved a hand, dismissing the whole thing. You thought that was just to make you feel more comfortable, because you were very clearly going through it. For good reason. Had you been in his shoes, you would've told yourself off for the shit you'd pulled.
"Looks better on you, anyway," 
And like you weren't red in the face enough already, the snort laugh that escaped you turned you purple whilst simultaneously breaking any and all tension.
---
The Taglisted
@adoreyouusugar, @alana4610, @ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @barfightzanddiscolightz, @bettyfrommars, @cancankiki, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @dylanmunson, @eddie-joe-munson, @eddies-puppet, @electricmunson, @emma77645, @emmamooney, @everythinghasafacee, @figmentofquinn, @frogers, @frootvelvet, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @harringtonfan4, @haylaansmi, @jasminearondottir, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @kellyxo1, @kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @miserybeans, @nadixq, @ohmeg, @paola-carter, @pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @roosterisdaddy36, @sherrylyn628, @sidthedollface2, @thebellenouvelle, @thefemininemystiquee, @thewondernanazombie, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @yelyahcardella
taglist currently full, sorry
585 notes · View notes
gotham-daydreams · 6 months
Note
I love. Your series. I haven't had angst hit this good in years.
I like to imagine that y/n did *try* to be a vigilante like the others. They took the sports and martial arts as a way to practice and when they excelled in running, gymnastics, karate, ect- they gave it their first try. And their first attempt went terribly. They went out alone and so young, not that they ever wanted to fight crime to begin with but that is the most logical way to connect to the family. They were severely injured and decided after that they weren't going to be able to try again. They had to heal alone and their worldview changed from "I can be like them once I'm good enough" to "Maybe they can still love me even if I'm not a vigilante." And nobody knew they even thought this or tried at all. y/n wanted to give the family something to be proud about. And they failed.
You. I like you.
I'm glad you're enjoying the series!!!
[Warnings: Angst (sort of?), Blood, Reader Getting Injured, Panic(?)]
(Not proofread. Had a fun time writing this!)
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You tried to catch your breath, gasping for air as you clutching onto your side. You could feel the wound, the pain never even letting you forget it for a second as you stared in front of you.
Two unconscious men laid on the ground. They were about twice your size across all categories, and yet you had managed to knock them out, somehow. You could hardly believe it, and yet you could barely consider this a victory. Not when you heard the sounds of rushing footsteps, and angry shouts that were growing louder as they headed in your direction.
"There they are! AFTER THEM!"
A thug shouted before you could even register how close they had gotten, head whipping around to see the source of the voice, causing you to pale at the amount of thugs behind him.
Before the dread could even settle in, your body was able to react much faster than your mind. Your feet rushed forward before jumping high in the air, kicking off the walls in the alleyway to travel over the thugs, and landing behind them, not wasting a single second to run away.
Various shouts followed behind you, but all you could concentrate on was the path ahead of you. You traveled between various alleyways in hopes of losing the men, but it was like the moment you got close to achieving that, someone would notice you one way or another.
All of the twists and turns were beginning to confuse you, a sense of dizziness falling over you as the world began to spin. You tried to push forward and keep going, promising yourself that you were almost there — even if you didn't know where 'there' was, or what it could mean.
Your legs began to hurt and sting as you ran, but you kept going, determined to lose these guys before anything else. Promising yourself that it would be smooth sailing from there, and yet just when you noticed that you hadn't run into a thug in a while-
Your face met the pavement.
Was that... blood-?
The fall was far from soft, with the rough ground scratching at your legs and further opening your wounds. Dragging its rough claws against your skin, and making your head feel like it was hit with a brick or mallet.
You hissed, wincing from the pain, as you look at the hand that had been holding your side this whole time. The sight made you pause.
"Find that little twerp! Kill them for all I care! Just FIND THEM!"
A thug, presumably the leader, shouted out suddenly. Causing you to quickly scramble up from the ground, and bite your tongue as you began to run again.
Holding your side, all you did was hope and pray for the best.
Unfortunately, another shout sounded from behind you, and before you knew it a thug appeared in front of you. Without thinking, you quickly slid under him by passing in between his legs, and managed to continue running. Your heart beating against your ribs, nearly breaking them with how hard it pounded. Yet soon, it was the only thing you could hear.
Ba-dump
Ba-dump
Ba-dump
You rushed past another thug, breathing heavily as your feet slamming on to the concrete. Hardly keeping you up right, but just trying to fling you forward.
Yet, another thug managed to get the jump on you.
Ba-dump
Ba-dump
Ba-dump
You were slammed face first into a wall, the impact was so harsh that no sound managed to escape you. All you could do was cough out blood as your struggled in the thug's hold, your gloved fingers clawing at the hand that held your throat.
He squeezed, and more blood came spilling out as you choked.
Ba-dump
Ba-dump
Ba-dump
You couldn't hear what the two thugs in front of you were saying, ears ringing and filled with your deafening heart beat. Your vision was getting blurry now, and even if you couldn't make out much, you could see how their scowls shifted into smirks. The thug's grasp on you tightening, causing you to struggle even more.
The looks they gave you was nothing short of terrifying. Pure malice and bloodlust stared at you, and all you could do was try to hide your fear. Knowing you'd see their faces again in your nightmares.
Thump
Thump
Thump
You trembled as your struggling increased.
Your heart hammered against your chest as your eyes widened, the realization dawning on you as you saw one of them adjust the hold they had on their bat. With the one choking you, winding back his fist, his expression darker than even the shadows of Gotham.
You were going to die here.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
You became frantic. Aiming for anything else you possibly could, as you threw various punches and kicks. Hardly even noticing how your poor efforts were only further irritating the men. Yet that was the least of your concerns.
You scratched at his arm, kicked his chest, tried to go for his eyes. Anything. Anything you could possibly reach, you tried to aim for. Your instincts kicking into high gear as you fought, and fought, and fought.
But at the end of the day, you were just a kid fighting against two grown adults.
You never stood a chance.
You were going to die here.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
... You don't remember much after that.
You could only recall hurriedly running up the stairs that were attached to the side of an apartment building, and could remember how you even got shot in the leg on the way up, but managed to carry on anyway, despite the wound and the new pain it brought.
You vividly remember just narrowly making a jump to another rooftop, completely out of breath. Adrenaline pumping through your viens so hard, and rushing so fast, that even as you fell into a dumpster, you still could hardly feel the pain. All you could remember after that, was darkness surrounding you as you slowly closed your eyes. Having tried to fight off sleep, but ultimately failing.
Even when you did come to, you were still in that dumpster, and the sun still having yet to rise. The smell of trash and blood was so awful, that no words could describe it. Though the smell was also so strong that you could barely smell it, at the very least. You couldn't focus, and everything felt fuzzy for a while as you just laid there.
You looked down at your hand, only to sigh softly. Right, you were still bleeding. Amazing.
Pain was all you could feel, but you knew you'd have to get up, especially if you didn't want to risk anyone finding you and mistaking you for a corpse. Let alone if someone from your family had found you now.
What would they even say? Would they even be able to look at you, after such a terrible first attempt? After you did so poorly, despite having tried to prepare for this so much, on your own? For them?
... What would Bruce say? What would he do?
..... You reluctantly got up. Your body hating you for it immediately, and that was made incredibly clear as pain shot through each and every inch of your body. Yet you still managed to push on, and by some miracle, was able to get out of the dumpster.
You felt as awful as you looked, that much you could tell, but tried to not think about. Walking — which was actually limping because of a certain wound you had — felt like a chore, but you toughed it out as you made your way through Gotham.
Before anyone could really see you, by yet another miracle, you were able to come across a small clothing store that was still open, as some clothes were still hanging outside.
You didn't bother looking for an employee or anything as you just grabbed the biggest hoodie you could find, and took it. You didn't care about the color too much, or any patterns or prints it might've had. All you knew was that it could cover most of your wounds for now, and help keep your identity hidden.
Shaking your head, you just pushed your thoughts to the side. You didn't need to think about that right now, especially not when you were injured. So you wouldn't. You didn't.
So, you slipped it on, but not before leaving some money behind by leaving it tapped on the door from the inside. A small note attached to it reading 'For the hoodie,' and nothing else. After all, you weren't actually trying to steal anything, and you didn't want to give anyone the impression that you were starting. You didn't want to think about what Bruce would do or say if he thought that, let alone the others.
You continued to walk, vaguely remembering where you could get supplies to help yourself, and heading towards the store. Ignoring all the weird looks people would give you when you passed them by, or noticed the trail of blood you were leaving behind. Their stares made you nervous, but you kept going. The humiliation settling in, and making a home for itself in you, as your chest felt heavy.
It's like they were cursing you with their eyes, and damning you to hell.
... The walk was fine for the most part. Painful, yes, but at this point you were already getting a little used to it. So you just moved along, and made your way into the store once you finally reached it.
For your own sake, you tried to be quick about it and grabbed what you needed. A first-aid kit never hurt, but you made sure to grab some other things as well.
So, you got to work and patched yourself up to the best of your ability. Remaining quiet all throughout as you tried to focus and concentrate. Using what you knew, you were able to decently take care of yourself — even if your stitching could use some work, it didn't look too horrible. Removing the bullet in your leg was another story, and though it was difficult, you managed.
Hospitals were out of the question since it'd be all over the news and your family would surely find out. Alfred was also part of the family, so allowing him to help you — let alone see your condition, was also out of the question. You'd just have to take care of this yourself. No one had to know.
Regardless, once you had everything, you paid, and quickly made your way up the stairs that was alongside another apartment building. This time you didn't climb all the way up, and instead stopped somewhere in the middle, and decided to patch yourself up there. Not wanting to risk going too high for your family to see you if they happened to pass by, but also not being too low for any thugs to see you and either finish the job, or put an end to your suffering.
So the middle seemed like the best option for now, even if you did risk some poor civilian seeing you and your horrible state. It was a risk worth taking compared to the other options you had, you thought as much at the time anyway.
Sunrays peaked inbetween the buildings, and lit up your tired and pained eyes. The sky shifted from its darker hues to much lighter ones. With morning birds singing their songs, and more people beginning to wake up and start their days.
Finally, the bleeding was beginning to stop, and all you could do was sigh in relief as you leaned against the wall, and looked to the side. Exhausted beyond belief, and feeling the weakest you've ever felt, but still somehow alive.
You stayed there for a while, just silently admiring as the night turned into day. Dried blood and bandages covering you, pain still evident but it was beginning to die down now. To think you'd make it to sunrise, it was almost unbelievable considering you had nearly died one too many times tonight. Your luck having made it possible to even get this far.
Maybe you'd cry, but it didn't feel right to do so. The pain you felt was enough of a reminder of your failure. Your current state was enough of a reality check.
You weren't like your family, that much was clear.
You just weren't cut out for this. You weren't slow, but you were sloppy. You weren't weak, but you weren't strong enough. You had skill, but you lacked proper technique. You had plans, but your execution was poor. You needed to train, you needed practice and have proper guidance, but where would you even go for that? Who could you go to? If you went to your family at this point, and found out about last night...
You couldn't do what they managed to accomplish every night. Even on your first attempt, you couldn't even manage to do half of what they could. You were reckless, and ultimately overestimated your own abilities despite knowing this wouldn't be easy, and ended up underestimating your opponents. It nearly got you killed, and had you not managed to get yourself out of that situation, you would've died.
You had gotten lucky with so many things last night, and if you were to do this every night like your family, you couldn't just depend on luck. You couldn't have a repeat of last night. You'd surely die that way.
You didn't want to think about what they'd say, the thought alone was painful enough.
Sighing, you just looked away from the sun, and up at the sky, watching as the colors continued to shift.
You wanted to do this on your own to prove yourself. To prove you could do what your family did, and show that you had something to offer. That you could do amazing things and help out too, but you fell flat. You couldn't even handle a group of thugs — how would you be able to handle anything else? What about robberies? Kidnappings? Murders? What about theft, or things dealing with that? How would you deal with anything else if you couldn't even handle the lowest guys in Gotham?
That's the thing, you wouldn't be able to.
If you couldn't even handle a few thugs, you wouldn't be able to do much else. Not at your current level anyway, but how long would it take you to improve? To get better? To be on the same level as your family? To stand by them, and know you were apart of something?
... Maybe you really weren't cut out for this.
To think you once dreamed of standing beside them, helping them, and most of all — making them proud as you held your own weight and then some. Making Gotham a better place right by their side.
It seems so silly now, and maybe that's because it was.
You were hopeless from the start.
Your heart felt so heavy in your chest, the realization causing the organ to squeeze, but you just let it be, and sat with it.
There were other ways you could grab their attention. Other ways that didn't include throwing yourself at death time and time again, and praying you'd live to see another sunrise. This was just... a bump in the road, but you'd have other opportunities! You could do other things to grab their attention and — and maybe you'd even make them proud in the process.
Yeah, there were still other things you could do. You couldn't give up now!
Sure, being a vigilante didn't work out, but that's okay! You'd just have to find something else, it's alright. You'd find something, you were sure of it. You'd find something and be so good at it that they'd have to acknowledge you — hopefully.
You could work something out. After all, there were countless other things you could do besides being a vigilante! Surely one of those things could grab their attention, and maybe if you just worked hard enough and perfected it so much, that they'd acknowledge you — and most of all? Be proud of you.
You'd show them that you had a place in this family, without a mask. You'd show them. You'd prove yourself to them, you would. You will!
Though to start, you'd make your way back home, and just keep what happened last night to yourself. You'd form a plan, think of something, and see it out til the very end. You'd show that you could do great things too besides protecting Gotham from Villians and thugs. That maybe someday, you could make a difference too.
So, with a new hope and dream in your heart, stood up and began making your way down the steps. The sun rising along with your own determination to start on this new path. Making your way back to the Manor, unaware of the misfortune to befall you.
Sometimes, no matter the effort, some things just aren't meant to be. You still had yet to learn that lesson at the time, and even when you eventually would, they'd ruin that too.
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bisexualhomelander · 2 months
Text
F O R C E D F E M I N I Z A T I O N | B U T C H L A N D E R
Billy runs his mouth. (verbal feminization, rimming, hatesex... or is it)
Part of Billy should have known the joke would come back to bite him in the arse sooner than later. He shouldn't have invited the supe in at all, but definitely not with the offer of watching him have a wank. Homelander felt he had a foot in the door now, and if Billy had put that kind of depravity past him, he's probably dumber than he thought he was.
The sonic boom woke him up, and as much as he simply wanted to close the blinds on Homelander, curiosity did get the better of him eventually, and he opened the balcony door.
Before he had even asked to what he owed the pleasure of the late-night company, the supe had already pressed a few banknotes into his hand, and Billy instinctively tightened his fingers around them despite his bewilderment. "You said ten dollars to watch you jack off. What do I get for a hundred?"
Billy huffed in amusement, even if there was a bit of sound behind the huff. Shock that he couldn't quite conceal. Was he being propositioned?
Homelander had a smirk on his lips. "I'm serious. William. I can feel your blood pressure, you know? That includes knowing where your blood is, right now. Had I stayed last time, who knows how we'd have ended up."
Billy swallowed all the other choice words he had for the man and stared down at the money in his grip. "If you think you can buy me, cunt, think again."
"If it hurts your pride, fine." The supe plucked the dollars back out of Billy's fingers and threw them into the air. Billy watched them sail over the balcony and out of sight. That would make some lucky bastard's night. Not his problem. He didn't have to pay that out of his pocket.
Alright, supe wanted to play. He could have that, surely. Billy could almost feel the moment his brain turned itself off. He'd feel the consequences of his actions some later date; for now, he didn't want Homelander to think he won by flustering him. Sure, he was half-hard. Why not go all the way and hate himself for it once he was alone again? So he put on his most charming, shit-eating smile and replied: "Shitty pickup line there, luv."
Homelander's face was wiped blank for a moment before he could reign in his emotions at the sudden pet name. Point for Billy.
"See? That's how it's done. Now come in. Freezin' my bollocks off here, and I'm of no use to you if that happens, hm?"
Homelander had his bearings again and gave him an amiable smile, hiding his teeth. Why did the cunt always seem like he had something with an unpleasant taste in his mouth? Was that jaw ever slack?
"Not really that into cocks, if I'm honest."
Homelander chuckled. "And? Neither am I. Will that stop you?"
"Nah, it won't. But we're gonna do it my way."
"Fine by me." Homelander came inside and closed the door with his gloved hand. He even cleaned his boots on the door mat. "Bedroom's this way, I assume," he said and began to saunter off in the correct direction. Fucker had clearly x-rayed the apartment before, and Billy prayed it had been when he'd been here last and not right before he'd swept in to watch Billy sleep.
"We ain't goin' to the bedroom here, luv." It was likely impossible to actually surprise the supe. Last time, Billy had not even seen him fly off. Homelander moved at the speed of light, and so he must have seen the assault coming from a mile away, but it spoke to how much he wanted this that he let it happen anyway. Billy had him up against the wall in one smooth movement, and Homelander's legs were riding high on his waist like it was natural. "My way, remember?" Billy smeared the words against the supe's lips like spit and greedily drank down the answering whimper. "And if I say cock isn't what I'm looking for tonight, that's what goes, a'right?"
"You can fuck me if you want to," Homelander panted. He was lighter than Billy had imagined. Holding him up cost little energy, and Billy wasn't even properly awake. For a split-second, he wondered if he was still dreaming.
"Not into cocks, my arse. You're downright begging."
"I'm not begging for anything." The hand around Billy's throat had crept up so suddenly that it did shock him into silence for a second. "I won't beg on my knees for the right to see my son, and I will certainly not beg you to fuck me. I chose you for tonight because you are a disgustingly filthy excuse for a man who has no dignity left for his sorry life, and I knew I could get you if I wanted you. And here you are. So if you want me to leave your body intact, you better get your ass in gear and get me off."
With every ounce of willpower, Billy forced a swallow against the fingers pressing down. The grip loosened. They still held eye contact, and neither of them blinked first. Homelander was giving him a way to get his piece in. Well. Why not.
"You babble on like a woman, you know?"
"Hm?"
"Goin' on and on about things I don't wanna know. Gnawing my ear off here, mate." He leaned forward a bit, happy to see the supe's eyes dart to the left and right in an attempt to focus on both of his eyes. It made Homelander break the unblinking eye contact, lids fluttering rapidly. "Like a girl."
They were pressed together from the tips of their noses, to their chests, to their bellies, so it was easy to actually feel the way the cunt's cock throbbed at Billy's verbal abuse. "Yeah, that's right, hm? You wanna be my girl for the night? Daddy's girl?"
Up close like this, he saw the laser lights spring forth from Homelander's pupils first, slowly filling out the rest of his eyes. It looked fascinating from this perspective, even as the intense light immediately burned bright white spots into Billy's retina that he had to blink away. To anyone, it might have been threatening, but Billy was too worked up now, and he called the supe's bluff easily. "Bitching like you're PMSing, luv." He leaned his face into the heat emanating from Homelander's eyes to force his mouth open in a kiss. "Just from a bit of talking."
"Shut up-" The hand that landed over his mouth could have broken his jaw or taken it clean off, but Homelander knew how much pressure to use. Billy didn't think about how the supe had learned this. Or tried hard not to.
It wasn't difficult to pry the hand away and let the supe see his sly grin. "Gettin' shy already? Why you wanna shut me up so hard?"
"Nothing of value comes out of that mouth of yours," Homelander said.
"Oh, come now." Billy made certain to school his face into a disappointed frown. "You gonna lie to me? I can see you getting wet in that suit of yours."
It wasn’t wrong, exactly. There was a distinct dark spot where the head of Homelander's cock pressed into the fabric. Billy decided, however, that he liked the ambiguity of this game of his and wanted to see how much he could push the supe.
"Must be like a slip 'n slide between those legs."
"Don't-" Homelander began, but his body took over halfway into speaking, had him rub up against Billy like the mere mention of his arousal had reminded him of it. "Don't you ever shut up?"
Billy leaned forward to bite Homelander's ear. "You love it."
"I don't." Those baby-blue eyes tried to find Billy, and find him they did. Up close like this, he looked pretty. Innocent, somehow. The line of his mouth was still angry, but somewhere in the depths of those eyes lay something that wanted to give up and surrender to Billy. It was hypnotic.
Billy leaned forward and breathed his next word onto Homelander's mouth. "Liar."
Homelander whimpered when their mouths met, but he parted his lips readily and began to suck on Billy's tongue as soon as he had access, ashamed at his body's reaction and ready to shut Billy up. The supe tasted like absolutely nothing, not even toothpaste. It was almost unsettling, were it not for the wet warmth of his mouth that was like any other. What a weird thing to discover this fucker's humanity through.
Billy decided he'd had enough of the stalling and went to his knees. The supe's legs slipped from his waist in the movement; they were unsteady when holding up his weight.
Homelander willingly pushed his hips into Billy's hands as he began to open the belt holding the outfit together. He'd never seen the ins 'n outs of that. The suit wasn't one piece. It was a top and trousers that could be pulled down like leggins. Skin-tight and stuffed full of foam to give the impression of defined abs and pecs. Uncovering a bit of skin between the top half and the bottom half of the outfit felt like a forbidden pleasure, and Billy's mouth descended on an exposed hip bone before he even had time to plan out his move.
"Thought cock wasn't what you were looking to get," Homelander mumbled.
Billy huffed a laugh against the skin under his teeth and felt an almost nauseating flutter in his abdomen as shaky fingers held on to his shoulders. "Nah. I'm here for that pretty cunt you got hidden away." The fingers flexed and spasmed; Homelander's hips ground forward of their own accord.
Billy was so hard he felt dizzy with it, and he blinked to get his wits about him. He couldn't forget his mind completely. This was still none other than the monster who'd destroyed him - or the parts that were worth destroying anyway.
He pulled the ridiculous trousers of the outfit down to Homelander's knees and was met with...
"Red panties? You on the rag?"
"You're disgusting," Homelander commented, but he sounded so out of breath Billy considered the comment flattery.
"Gets you wet enough." The front of the supe's briefs was almost black with precum in the low light of Billy's living room. "Why give you pretty words when this gets the job done just fine, eh, bird?"
"Please." And oh, if that word didn't go straight to Billy's dick.
"Please what?"
Homelander squirmed, and Billy didn't help by blowing air on the wet spot where the cunt's cockhead was seen straining through the cotton. "Eat me-?" Shame clogged his throat, and now Billy did help out by leaning forward and rubbing his beard against an exposed thigh, earning something that came close to a mewl and finally got the answer he desired. "Eat me out. Daddy."
"Good girl." He pulled the briefs down to the rest of the way and went on to unzip the ridiculous red boots. The supe toed out of them so quickly he nearly tripped, and Billy made quick work of the rest of the clothes by pulling on them to let the cunt step out.
Half-naked, the masculinizing effects of the costume were visible. The clothed half of Homelander still looked imposing, but his naked legs were literal sticks. His ass round, but not nearly as firm as the outfit made it seem. Billy slid his hands up the back to cup the cheeks. "Leg on Daddy's shoulder, girl. Come on. Giddy up."
Homelander obeyed without complaint, like he was beyond words. Maybe Butcher had him where he wanted. And where was that even? In what universe did he want him? And was there still a remote chance he'd wake up hard and full of self-loathing?
Not much time to think about it when the current position spread the cunt's ass so deliciously and allowed Billy a good look at his hole. Fucker was shaved everywhere, it seemed, not a single hair more than necessary on him.
"Brazilian? Fine choice, princess."
"God, fuuuck." Homelander shivered, a foot pressing into Billy's shoulder blade with an amount of pressure that bordered on abusive. He'd get a bruise there. It drove him forward, though.
"Got the prettiest cunt I've seen." As if to prove a point, Billy lapped at the hole, huffing a laugh when he saw the muscle contract. "Look at that. Pinker than a virgin. Or is that it, huh? Anyone ever been where I am now?"
The silence was damning.
"Never had a man before." He held onto Homelander's thighs for leverage and pulled himself up again, shoving his face in for real this time.
Homelander's hand found his hair and pulled with surprising gentleness. It was an interesting contrast. Billy'd have sooner expected him to push him forward and not try to pull him backwards, but the cunt probably was lost to the pleasure and didn't remember how to move in any coordinated fashion. And they'd barely started.
He lapped at the furled muscle, relishing in the way it spasmed against his lips. As much as Homelander kept complaining, this he could hardly deny. This was his body talking.
No denying it; Billy'd always been an ass man. Something about getting his tongue in there had been appealing since a young age. The filth of it, sweat and musk. The embarrassment of his partners when they realized how much he loved inhaling all of it. Like a bloodhound.
Not with him. He was clean, no sweat, no smell. But aroused all the same and opening up to Billy's ministrations. The thighs around his face quivered. The hand in his hair went from insistent to demanding. Homelander's body was putting out heat like a furnace, and it drove sweat to Billy's brow.
"Fuck," he could hear a muffled voice from above. Was the cunt covering his mouth to keep in his noises? Afraid there were fans in the apartments around?
There was definitely movement happening, and Billy just knew without looking that Homelander meant to touch himself. He pulled back immediately, licked his lips where Homelander could see and looked up at him with disappointment.
Homelander's hand around his own cock went still, and his eyes were wide. He's scared he's been bad, Billy realized, and the thought made his neglected cock throb. Fuck, he'd have to get out of those trousers. The strain against the zipper was gonna kill him.
Billy gently pried the supe's hand away from his erection. "Pretty birds like you only come from getting their snatch eaten."
Homelander let out a wet sound that might have been a gasp or a sob. His eyes were teary, and- was that a red gleam or was Billy just suffering the first effects of hypoxia from spending minutes between those cheeks?
"You're close anyway. No reason to abuse that pretty lil' bean of yours."
"My-"
"Your clit, luv." Billy dove back in.
He tried not to get too smug at the gasp that Homelander let out when he managed to work his tongue in again. He knew it wouldn't do much for this one, but he rubbed his face sideways against an inner thigh anyway. At least give the notion of a notion of beard burn to a cunt with impenetrable skin. Felt soft to the touch, though. Real lifelike.
His own drool dripped down his chin and onto his sleep shirt, but he didn't plan on wiping it off. Half the fun was getting dirty and besides- "Fuckin' dripping, babygirl. Gonna squirt all over Daddy? Is that it? You gettin' close."
Homelander's head fell back against the wall; Billy could hear the small thud. How he still had enough of his wits to not slam it back so hard he went through the wall was beyond him. Cunt's self control was so ingrained it was a downright sad business. Though Billy really preferred to live, most days.
He gave it his all, tongue-punching the cunt's hole until his jaw ached because he needed to feel him break, he needed it more than he needed to come. He grinned when he could feel the first small contractions in the muscle, the way Homelander's body began to seize. His muscles started trembling where Billy was holding on.
"Come for Daddy."
"Fffuck!" The supe broke above him. Billy was wise to pull his tongue out before that happened, but did push his thumb into Homelander's perineum for some extra stimulation.
There was a hand in his hair again, but it felt downright weak, barely grasping.
Homelander's leg slipped off him tiredly, and the supe blinked at him with mild confusion, glassy-eyed and dopey, but apprehensive. Billy was almost sure he mirrored the expression.
He hadn't even orgasmed himself, but there was a sort of mental clarity barreling towards him like a train, and he really, really wanted to close his eyes before the headlights of that thing hit him.
Homelander took the decision from him because when Billy did blink, the pile of clothes on the floor and the entire supe had vanished into thin air.
He sat on the floor for a good half an hour before his aching knees forced him to get up and he managed to wipe his mouth with fingers that were just a bit too unsteady.
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stardew-shitposterino · 2 months
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The Bachelors and how they’d react if you asked them to start a family
Same old same old. This post is inspired by @babiebom 's post about the bachelor/ettes and how many kids they’d have :3 I’m not really a person who is too keen on children and being a housewife, but I can’t deny that the thought of a picture perfect family does warm my heart, girlies. Enjoy 💅🏻🍼
Some answers are gender specific. I hope to anyone playing the game as a same sex couple that you can look past that 🙏🏻
Sam:
-he’d be boots the house down in total shock
-don’t get it twisted, he is ecstatic, but damn he didn’t expect it to be this soon
-of course he is excited about every life stage of his potential little ones, but he can’t wait to have someone he can teach how to skate
-„really? A-and you’re not joking or anything? RAD!“
-maybe he is a bit too excited as he‘s definitely ripping his pants off his body as soon as the message sunk in
-„Oh you didn’t mean we should start it right now? Sorry my bad 😅“
Sebastian:
-he is happy but can’t really show it
-anxiety is kicking hard rn
-it’s not that he doesn’t want this, but he has so many worries, after all he had lived through himself
-he definitely needs some time to think about this
-„Y/N, I’d really love to have this with you one day, but please give me time to adjust to this. It’s a lot for me to process.“
-he will eventually open up about it and you agree on not rushing things. If you’re an opposite sex couple, you agree on starting a family once you’re pregnant. No planning, just living and if it happens, it happens (it probably happened after like 2 months after you had the talk lol)
Elliott:
-„Heavens, Love! What wonderful news. I’ve been waiting for this moment. This will be the start of our legacy!“ (excuse me bruuuhh this is how I imagine him talk lol)
-he had heart-shaped eyes if you haven’t noticed
-as much as he loves the romance and allure of being a childless couple with a world to their feet, he can’t kick the idea of being a wholesome dad raising a curious child with his wonderful partner
-he emphasises on not rushing things as he doesn’t want you to feel pressure. He knows how stressful your job is so he doesn’t want you to feel overwhelmed though you proposed that idea first
-you can bet your ass you went to bed after that talk 👀 WHO SAID THAT 🤨
Harvey:
-he is a blushy mess thank you and amen
-he‘s so anxious but also so excited
-no way you actually proposed this to him. He actually accepted his fate as a childless bachelor
-but here he is, finally getting the happy little family he always wanted
-but it isn’t smooth sailing with him, oh no. You can bet your ass he has to calculate everything through before he feels comfortable enough starting to bring this wish to reality
-you know, you earn a shit ton of money but he is anxious ok. He needs to KNOW the child won’t end up homeless with nothing to wear once it’s here
-“Oh this is all so new and, I-I don’t even know how to say it without it sounding wrong. I just can’t grasp that this is happening. Pinch me so I know I’m not dreaming”
-you didn’t sleep with each other that day but a make-out sess was in it. A wholesome one to say the least. This man is wholesome in my books 📕
Shane:
-the only thing missing here is that he fainted and fell to the floor after you popped the question
-say WHAT NOW?!
-no way. He probably heard it wrong. You didn’t just ask HIM to have YOUR children… no wait the other way around. This is what that question did to his brain lol
-or generally having kids together. He isn’t opposed to adopting because he fears the kids will inherit his messed up brain so taking in kids that are in need of a nice, welcoming home doesn’t sound bad either
-but no wait wait back to the topic; he’s a MESS
-he always wanted children and a family in general, the very boring ass white picket fence fantasy is what he longed for but kind of accepted that it’s something he cannot have. Well guess what…HE CAN
-“wait…did you- and you mean with me? Or is there someone else I should know about? Ok sorry bad joke. But you mean it?! Really? A little sibling for Jas🥹”
-just know this burly man started crying a river of joy tears. But once the tears dried and it kicked in 👀
-“ok if we want this to work out we gotta get to business 😎”
Alex:
-like Shane, he waited for this moment
-just he isn’t anxious like some of the others, he straight up jumps for joy lol
-“BABE NO WAY! I’ve been waiting for this!”
-he is a happy crier tho. Expect him to cry a little but in a good way
-but also expect him to propose the question of having a lot more kids in the future. He wants a football team of kids. But the amount is still negotiable of course (you gave him the “spouse stare” which made him go down a notch lol)
- he will babble about what gender the first kid might be, what he’d do with them depending on it and how he’d get them the smallest grid ball jerseys you’ll ever see because “LOOK THEY ARE SO TINY”
-like some of the others, he might be a bit too eager to start the baby project. Even if you can’t conceive yourself, he will live out that fantasy. You prepared yourself for this because it was very much predictable lol
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Hi Neighbor 😊
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I am thinking of nice neighbor simon again!!
part 1 here
cw: some vague mutual pining, fastest way to Simon's heart is his stomach, nice guy Si, extrovert reader but Simon doesn't mind, fluff!
"good- tea was good."
you smiled and nodded once, "good!"
it was only then did Simon realize he was holding onto you longer than he intentioned. when he let you go, you gave him a gentle pat on his arm. a thank you for not letting you go tumbling down the stairs
this was the most interaction with any of his neighbors since he started renting his flat. a change of pace, to say the least..
and for you it had been nothing but positive! Simon helped you move your boxes in and even liked your cooking. to you, this was the beginning of a blossoming friendship
to Simon, it was an overwhelming set of bizarre circumstances.. at least you were kind, but that's the bare minimum of a neighbor, is it not?
"well, nice running into you again, Simon, it was right? I swear I'm not meaning to meet like this every time."
there you go again.. on fast-forward
simon was hard pressed to get 2 words in with you. he's not a talker regardless, but he feels like you're moving as fast as the earth spins.. and he's a speck of space dust watching you zoom by.
he watched you politely bow out of his personal bubble, leaving him stunned and confused like the rest of your meetings. he'll mull over how to properly do small talk during his morning run.
he does not. he thinks of your cookies..
by the time he's back home from errands and freshly showered, hes stalking around his kitchen for an early dinner.. he could've sworn he had leftovers in th-
click
dark.
immediately, simon was on edge. was it the fuse box? was it his kind new neighbor finally carrying out the hit on him? he didn't hear any rustling in the house, no indication of anyone other than him being here..
peeping out a window, the other apartments in the area had gone dark. a power outage. in the middle of December. the worst possible time other than the middle of August..
meanwhile, you were rustling about, still unpacking and putting up your decorations. your little apartment was starting to feel like home. your neighbors seemed kind, and you were finally settling into a routine.
you could finally relax, lighting small candles and settling on the sofa in wait of your crock pot dinner. seemed to be smooth sailing from here.. until
click
dark
after the initial panic of thinking someone was breaking into your home and cut the power, you sighed and glanced around the home. flicking light switches and fiddling with the breaker didn't do anything to bring your power back
you exhausted your options, at least ones that didn't require an electrician's license.. a quick peek out your front door and all the hallway lights were out as well.
no electricity wasn't the end of the world, but it didn't leave you with much do.. you decided to try and be friendly with the neighbors.
just as Simon closed his fridge to conserve the cold, there was a soft knock at his front door.
he just can't catch a break.. Simon was tempted to ignore it, leave whoever on the other side waiting in hopes they'd leave. no such luck, unfortunately, another soft knock.
in hindsight, he should've expected to see your face on the other side. bright eyed and bushy tailed even despite the power outage.
"ah, your power is out too!"
just something to break the ice..
"I thought it was just me. that makes me feel a bit better," you gazed past his wide shoulders in the door, seeing no lights on inside.
simon tilted his head, "need help with somethin'?"
"oh! no, not really.. unless you can get the power going again," you laughed.
"I was just coming to uhh.. offer some stew. it should still be warm. it was simmering all day.. in case the power doesnt-," you felt nervous, tripping over your words with him staring at you with those big brown eyes.
thankfully he wasn't noticing your stumbles, his brain hanging on one word.
stew..
Simon's stomach rumbled. he wasn't in the mood to socialize. He rarely ever is, but the promise of a home-cooked meal was more enticing than he'd admit.
his brain was doing that thing again. where he watched your lips move, but your words flowed right through him. he picked up on things like bay leaves, peppercorns and red wine..
"-did you want some?"
the sound came right back to his ears like before, like the cords to his ears were finally plugged in right. your voice was clear again. you were offering him food again.. he already ate your cookies with no reaction other than a very slight sugar high, keeping him up doing phone puzzles for hours. if thats the only risk to eating what you're offering, he'll take it. he half shrugged, "could go for a proper meal... if y'r offerin'."
he had never seen someone's face light up in the way yours did, especially in relation to him coming over for dinner if all things. you could turn the power back on the whole block with the beam in your smile.
there was a very unfamiliar thump in Simon's chest
simon found himself in your apartment. he seems to just be finding himself in lots of situations this past week.
candles were lit. he presumed for light, but the smell was nice too, bright and sweet like you..r cookies! your cookies.
quickly, he shook his head free of the thought.
your apartment felt smaller than his own. maybe it was all the pictures on the wall, or how you had much more furniture than he did. he briefly wondered about your friends, who came over and if they liked your decorations.
"do you want something to drink?" you called from the kitchen.
simon followed the soft call of your voice, maneuvering around your small dining table. he's very grateful for his spacial awareness, not bumping into your little plant stands even in the dim candle light
"got s'm tea?"
●●
the tea had to be steeped with hot tap water. Simon was less than pleased, but he wasn't about to complain while you generously feed him a well cooked meal. he'll just have to show you how tea is really made.. when the power comes back.
"is it good?" you ask, sheepish.
simon nodded, cheeks stuffed full of stewed potatoes and carrots.
"I think this is the first time I've seen you're whole face."
you were mostly thinking out loud, but Simon's features were much softer than you thought. despite his permanent solem look, his big eyes and lightly freckled cheeks made for a less grizzly man than you pictured at first encounter. a cooked nose and a few scars.. naturally, you wondered what happened.
simon brushed past your acknowledgment of his face, trying not to dwell on it. he hoped you didn't commit his flaws to memory..
he really should've thought about that small talk on his run. are dinners with your neighbors usually this stressful? or was he just not used to it.. he chalked it up to the ladder and tried to wiggle him way out of his own silence.
he cleared his throat after swallowing another spoonful of food. "y' like the area?"
its a start.
the start must've worked well considering you jumped at his question. you talked about how close you were to friends, how nice the apartment was, how it was easier to get to work from here.. and how nice your neighbors were.
simon was described as a lot of things, but nice was not one of them. he guesses there's a first for everything, but would you call him nice if you saw him as Ghost?
simon started to shrink in on himself again. he should hardly even be alive at this point in his life, let alone praised and fed by his cooking baking neighbor.
despite Simon's own shortcomings in conversation, you were an easy chatter. you were much better at the whole small talk thing. he could pick up a lesson or 2.
you talked about your hobbies, none hes ever tried, and he talked about a few trips he's taken. Spain, Italy and the like, all of which you swooned over, talking about the arts and food in each place.
you talked about favorite dogbreeds, seasons and tea flavors. the beach or the mountains? owls or crows! each question got a longer answer from both of you, delving into your favorites and the ones you hate. you were just talking into the late night air of your dark apartment.. this is the last place simon expected himself to be and yet, he felt relaxed for once.
before either of you knew it, the tea was gone, the food was devoured and candles were starting to dwindle.
with what little light you had left, you cleared off the table and shoo'ed simon out of the kitchen when he offered to wash the dishes for you.
simon lingered at the kitchen entrance, looking like a mass of nothing but shadows in the soft lighting. he watched you pack up the leftovers, clean up the tea mugs and put away the sugars and milk.
"well," after one last wipe of the countertop, you turned to him. "I won't keep you here forever.."
simon felt a pang of disappointment. was it really time to leave already? he lived only one door down and suddenly that felt too far away from your company.
"yeah, don' wanna hold y' up. thank you for dinner.. nd hope the power comes back on soon."
saying goodbyes is very easy when the person you're saying it to lived across the hall, but hell, you could talk to him for hours.. even if his unwavering eyes made you a little flustered..
but you wouldn't be so rude as to forget to send your company home with a plate! almost as soon as Simon was about to head for his shower, there was a soft knock at his door. he presumed he forgot something, his phone maybe?
but nope! when he opens his front door there's a little bag with a note.
Hi neighbor :) figured you'd like some leftovers! I hope you enjoy!
simon quirked a small smile before snatching up the bag.
he was uncharacteristically excited about having to get your bag and tupperware back to you. just another reason to talk..
click
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short-honey-badger · 1 month
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Peppermint Tea 29 - Chamomile
Heyyyy guyysss. So I am FINALLY back with an update. I've had some other works get in the way *Crocodile and Hazbin Hotel ahem*
I've worked on this when I can and it's a bit longer than my usual chapters. Sorta of an introspection chapter. Our girl has to do a lot of thinking. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy! Also! I've used A LOT of the live action gifs. I'll be swapping to anime!
Warnings! None I don't think? Drinking.
Link to Ao3! -> Here
Masterlist
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Being pregnant is weird. You ache in weird places, and your feet constantly hurt. You hated how emotional you'd become and how much you still longed for the familiar comfort of your boys. You missed the easy companionship and the warmth of their love for you. How they held you close whenever you wanted and went out of their way to bring you little gifts. But then you are reminded that Shanks and Mihawk are nothing but liars and are left wondering if anything that the three of you shared together meant something to them. 
It's a horrible way to think, and it makes you feel guilty, but you can't help it. What else could they have lied to you about? Shanks had told you he loved you early on, but Mihawk had never uttered the words once, preferring to show you how much you meant to him. But were you just play thing with them? A convenient source for both men to use? You didn't know, and it made you even more upset thinking about it. 
Your tummy moves, and you glance down at the sight of your baby squirming. You can't help but grimace at the weird sensation. Your baby is always moving, never allowing you the rest you desperately want, and it's just one more thing to stack on top of all the rest of your woes. Sometimes, it felt like the growing bundle was punishing you for sending your boys away, especially with how much worse you've been feeling lately without their presence. 
Shanks had been so happy to find out that you were pregnant, but he was less enthusiastic about the more gross details and what came with raising a child. He had promised you over and over that he would be there to help, but that he'd definitely have to get used to it. 
The redhead drops to his knees, arms wrapping around your thighs as he presses the side of his face to your tummy. It's hardly a bump, but Shanks loves the growing bundle inside of his treasure all the same. He kisses your stomach, lips lingering there as he imagines a tiny redhead running around. 
Mihawk stands behind you, still over the moon with the news. He was worried, very much so. Even if your pregnancy and birth were smooth sailing, that meant that Mihawk would have one more person in the world that he would need to protect. It terrified him, but running was the last thing on his mind. In reality, the hawk couldn't get over how radiant you looked and planned to worship every inch of your body until you begged him to stop. 
You frown and push the memories aside. Maybe they hadn't been lying to you about everything, but both of them knew that you had no idea who you were. How could they have kept that from you? Why had they waited so long to tell you? 
You would have forgiven Mihawk if he had been truthful to you from the start. You were desperate for any kind of company then and had become spoiled on his, so you hadn't thought to question his words back then. But now that you are thinking about it, you can recall how Mihawk had hesitated the day you first told him of your “dreams”. 
You would have been upset, yes, but you didn't love Mihawk back then. it would have been much less of a betrayal, but his decision to wait had made it one of the worst things he could have done. 
You had an older brother out there who you didn't even know existed, a connection to your past, but Mihawk was too fucking selfish too see that. Damn, now you're just getting angry. But maybe that was good? Maybe you needed to let it all out. You stand from where you'd been curled up on the couch. You have the sudden urge to move. It's been days since your boys left and you've done nothing but lay around and sulk.
Hank jumps up after his human, dark eyes sparking up in excitement to see you finally up and about. He follows after you and lets out a low yip to grab his little brother's attention. Sukuna would kill him if he didn't wake him up. 
The orange fluff ball appears within moments, greeting Hank with a yowl and rubbing up against your legs. You crouch to love on him for a second before you continue on, manic energy coursing through your body. They follow their human to your bedroom, and you prop open the door, intending to start deep cleaning the room. You've let too many clothes pile up. 
Hank lays under your vanity, and Sukuna squeezes in beside the mutt, big golden eyes never leaving you. They can smell Your raging emotions, and neither want to accidentally get in your way. 
You start in the corner, lip curling up in annoyance when you immediately find a pair of Shanks’ pants that he'd left behind. You chuck them to the floor, and soon, it becomes a growing pile of clothing that both men had left behind. You pause once you reach a familiar white shirt, hesitating in tossing your favorite to the pile. 
Hank whines when he begins to smell your rising distress and crawls out from under his hiding spot to go to your side. He doesn't like that his human has been so upset lately and is curious as to why her mates haven't shown back up to take care of her. Hank knows that they had a fight. It's why he had gotten in between his human and the one armed man, even if Hank really liked him. 
You turn to your dog, a sad smile on your lips as you hold the ruffled and well-loved shirt close to your face. Hank whines again and presses his face into your side, trapping the shirt between the two of you. 
“Oh. Alright. I guess it'd be okay to keep this one, huh, buddy?” You murmur and gently shove Hank away so you can lift the shirt you're wearing now and toss it into your hamper. You shrug on Shanks’ shirt, snickering when the material grows tight around your swollen belly. You can't help but think that wearing the shirt feels like the redhead is there with you, wrapping you up in a hug. 
You blink as your vision swims and quickly stand, going to the pile of their clothes and shifting through them until you find a large overcoat with delicate designs. 
It's during a rare storm on your island that Mihawk decides to show up. His coat and hat are completely soaked through, and the warlord feels more like a wet cat than anything at that moment. This must be what Sukuna feels like when you give the poor cat a bath. Mihawk emphasizes with him. 
He barges into the cottage like he owns the place, scaring the hell out of you from where you sit in the living room putting together a puzzle that he'd brought you on a previous visit. The piece you're holding goes flying into the air, and you level a glare at the soaked warlord. 
“I'll never find that, you know!” You shout after him as he trudged to the bathroom. He ignores you, closing the door with a snap and quickly undressing. He hangs up his coat to dry and then hops into the now steaming shower to wash the cold rainwater away. 
Mihawk joins you back in the living room half an hour later, dressed in nothing but sleep pants. He settles down on the floor behind you, tugging you close to his chest and hooking his bearded chin over your shoulder. He presses an apologetic kiss to your neck. 
“I'll buy you another if we can't find the piece later,” Dracule promises. You give a satisfied nod and smile, leaning back into his chest.
“I'll hold you to it.” 
Mihawk never took that coat with him again. 
You stare down at the dark coat, licking your lips before, ultimately saying screw it and sliding your arms through the sleeves. It's massive on you, dragging the floor and swallowing you up, but it brings you that comfort that you desperately need right now. You clutch the lapels of the jacket close, sniffing pathetically as you sit in the middle of the pile of clothes. Fuck. You miss them so much. 
Sukuma meows at you and makes a show of walking on the shirts and pants that surround you, sniffing at them before making biscuits and settling in. Hank plops down beside you, and you can't help the water laugh that escapes. 
“I dunno if it's sad or not that the two of you can communicate with me better than a human being,” you quip and let yourself wallow in pity for a little while longer before you stand. You sigh and gather the clothes up and place them in the ditty laundry with everything else. You don't have the heart to get rid of them, not when you can't even decide for yourself if you want them to come back or not. 
Sukuna and Hank share a look as they follow you around for the rest of the day. They don't dare leave you alone, not when you reek of sadness and self-pity. Hank does his best to make his human feel a bit better, bringing you his favorite toys and being a big goof when you toss his ball. Sukuna made sure to keep close, his purring, a constant, thunderous roar that drowned out the sad little voice in your head. 
~~~~~~~
Their company makes you feel better, but you are still down and miserable a couple of days later. It's been just over two weeks since you sent your boys away, and you've had a lot of time to think during that time. You aren't nearly as upset with Shanks as you are with Mihawk. The redhead had only gone along with Dracule's dumb ass decision at Mihawk's discretion, so you didn't think it was very fair to be so upset with the Emperor. 
You were still angry with him, but you could forgive the redhead. 
You still hadn't found a good enough excuse for Mihawk, however. His lying to you had been nothing but selfish desire to keep you his. You don't understand how keeping such information from you could be considered keeping you safe, but then you think back to what Shanks had told you the morning before everything had gone to shit. 
“Sometimes Mihawk thinks he knows what's best for us, even if he goes about it the wrong way.” 
Well, wrong he was, but in a weird way, you could almost see his logic. 
Your family, your home, your kingdom, it was all gone - destroyed by Big Mom and her family. You'd been so young, six years old, when it happened, that other than the same memories that plague you nightly, you hardly remember your family or your home. Aside from Tomura, and even then, the memories were vague at best. 
Did it make you a bad person if you stayed with the man who had killed the people who lived on your island? Your apparent subjects, because you're some long lost princess? Not that you being royalty mattered, not to you at least. Why would you want all that responsibility when you've lived such a free life away from the rest of the world? How can you grieve for something you've never known?
You hated all these new questions and doubts that his confession had brought on. You almost wish that he'd just kept his mouth shut, but then you think about the brother that is still a mystery to you. Tomura had been your only friend as a child, and you wish you could ask him what he thought about all this.
A sudden pounding on your front door has you jumping out of your skin, and fury rushing up your spine. Really? They couldn't even stay away for a week? 
You stomp over to the door, a curse on your lips that sputters out the moment you see who exactly is at your door. 
“Perona?” You demand, brows shooting up. 
The pink girl barges in like her father figure, strutting into your home like she owns the place. 
“Wh-what are you doing here?” 
“Coming to see you, duh,” Perona quips like she busts into your life on the daily. Which she does not. She plops on the couch, sighing dramatically, “I couldn't stand another day being around Mihawk. He's not stopped moping since you made them leave.” 
Her words catch you off guard. Perona had come here to complain about Mihawk to you of all people? Was she crazy? Perona opens her mouth and spouts off before you can get a word in. 
“I'm surprised he even got inside the castle as drunk as he was! The humandrals probably stayed away because of how badly he reeked!” 
Your mouth grows dry. You didn't think that Mihawk would be the one to go off into a drinking stupor, and despite yourself, you still felt concerned for the older man. Mihawk was such a recluse, and it had taken months for him to open up to you, and who knew where Shanks was. You had expected the men to at least find comfort in each other. 
“Shanks isn't there?” You ask her and take a seat in Mihawk's armchair. You haven't been able to bring yourself to call it yours again, even in your head. 
Perona shakes her head, sending her bouncy pig tails flying, “Nope. Not that I saw anyway. But enough about him. How are you doing? Are you okay? Is the baby okay?” 
You smile at her concern and push down the emotions that threaten to swell up like the ocean and pull you under. 
“I'm okay. The baby is okay. A lot more squirmy than usual, actually.” You assure the other woman and smooth your hand over your stomach. You are wearing one of Mihawk's shirts today, a brilliant red in color styled in his usual fashion. 
Perona squeals in happiness and claps her hand, “Oh good! Can I feel it?”
You nod and watch with a soft smile as the younger girl kneels by your seat and gently rests her hand atop your coveted belly. She giggles when the little one kicks her hand almost immediately. 
It's quiet for a while, and that concern for Mihawk resurfaces with a vengeance. You lick your lips, and Perona seems to feel the shift in the air, for she sits back and plops back on the couch. She watches her friend, feeling guilty and sorry for the other woman. It wasn't fair. 
“Mihawk told me what happened. Well, more like he drunkenly yelled about it and threw a lot of things, but still. I wanted to come see you. Are you seriously okay?” 
Her big eyes are full of nothing but worry for you, and you feel the walls crack and break under her kind gaze. 
“Ah-no not really,” you admit quietly and sweep your hand through your hair, “I guess I didn't realize how much they were picking up my slack around here. Being pregnant fucking sucks, and I feel horrible for missing two men who betrayed my trust.” 
You sniff and force the tears back. You are so sick of crying. Sick of feeling like crap, and you just want everything to go back to the way it was. 
Perona stands and gathers you in for a hug, and you gladly bury your face in her shoulder and cry. It feels like it's been forever since you've had any kind of human interaction, and having Perona here has broken you. She holds you until you've stopped crying, and then when you let go, the ghost girl lopes to the kitchen to fix the two of you hot cups of tea. The warm drink does wonders for your sore throat, and you let yourself relax back into Mihawk's chair. 
“I think you sending them away was the right thing to do. For now, at least,” Perona begins, and you glance up at her from over the rim of your mug. She sits criss cross on the couch, and you smile when you see that Sukuna has curled up in her lap. Big fluff ball only liked girls. 
“What do you mean?” 
“I mean that this alone time gave you some time to think, right? I know Mihawk did bad, and I told him more than once that it wasn't okay that he was keeping that from you, but, _.” 
You look at Perona when she says your name, and you frown at the insurge of wrongfulness that swims in your chest. You don't know if you want to hear this. 
“He's a disaster. I've never seen him like this before, and maybe you could give him a second chance? Maybe give him a call to know that you're okay?” 
Mihawk had become Perona’s guardian and father figure all rolled up into one big surly warlord. She loved him and hated that Dracule was wasting away alone in the castle at Gloom Island. He deserved to be happy, and the ghost girl knew that you and Shanks were the only two for him. 
You stay quiet. Could you do what Perona asks? The more you think about it, the more you come to the conclusion that yes, you could definitely do this. You wanted to talk to Mihawk. You needed to see how the older man was doing. 
“Is he really that bad?” You ask softly, and Hank seems to notice the stress that coats your tone. He rises from in front of the fireplace and lays his big head on your lap. You slid your fingers into his fur and found that easy comfort. 
“He won't stop drinking and yelled at me when I tried to take his booze away. He won't eat, won't shower, and hasn't trained since he got to Gloom.” 
It's one nail in the coffin after the other, and you find yourself up out of the chair and to the snail transponder that you've intentionally forgotten about. Your hands shake as you dial the familiar number, and you glance to the living room to see Perona giving you a double thumbs up. 
CA-LICK
“Who the fuck thinks that they can call this number.” 
Gods. Perona really wasn't joking when she said that Mihawk was a mess. He sounded sloshed, voice thick with alcohol and lack of sleep. 
“Mihawk? It's me,” you say quietly, and the silence is loud even over the phone. You close your eyes and picture the look of shock that the warlord no doubt has. 
“Angel? You called?” His voice is full of disbelief and aching hope. 
“Perona asked me to call you. She said you aren't…doing very well.” You finish lamely. It's never been this awkward between the two of you before, and you do not like it. 
“Oh, so that's where she ran off to. You shouldn't worry about me, Darling. I'm perfectly fine- oh!” 
You jump when you hear a loud crash over the receiver, “Mihawk? Are you okay?” 
“I'm fine my dear. Only tripped. I'm quite clumsy today,” Mihawk slurs and you crack a smile at his uncharacteristic behavior. You hear him shuffle about and settle down in a chair, voice sobering up just a bit as he focuses on speaking. 
“It's good to hear your voice, sweetheart. I missed you something terrible, you know? Are you doing well? Is the baby okay?” 
You can hear his voice catch a frantic edge, and you are quick to reassure the warlord. You dont want him sailing across the Grand Line sloshed. 
“We're both fine. She's been a little more rowdy than usual,” you say quietly and bite your lip, a tiny sigh leaving you. You rub your tummy, eyes sliding shut, “She misses her daddies. So do I.” 
It's quiet on the other end of the line, just the sound of Dracule breathing. It's honesty nice to hear, and you find yourself relaxing again the wall, head thunking against it. 
“...I'm so sorry, Angel. What I've done to you is irreversible. I wish that I could take it all back.” 
His apology hurts. You want to forgive him for his sins, assure Mihawk that nothing had changed and that he could come back home. But you couldn't, even if he had saved you and your brother at the end of the day. 
“You can't, Mihawk, and I don't know if I can ever forgive you,” you hear his lungs hitch on the other end, a sharp intake of breath that sounds near painful. You look down at your growing belly, tears spriouting, “But it isn’t fair to you to keep you away from her, and- and I don't think I can do this without you.” 
“Her? You think the baby is a girl?” 
A smile plays your lips. Of course, that is what he picked up on right now. 
“I just have a feeling, is all,” you admit to him. You hum quietly, and thousands of miles away, Mihawk relaxes in his armchair for the first time in weeks at the sweet sound. 
“ …You would trust me around her? Around you again?” He asks you, and Gods, how were you suppose to answer that? 
“Did you ever lie to me about anything else?” You ask instead of answering that. You needed to know if anything you had shared with Dracule had been fake. 
“No. I've always been truthful to you, Angel. You’ve become my whole world, and I wanted to do anything I could to protect that.” 
Even over the snail transponder, you can tell that Mihawk is telling the truth. You only have one last question, one that makes you almost nauseous to ask. 
“Do you love me, Mihawk?” 
On Gloom Island, the warlord looks stricken, face growing pale and falling at the mention of that four letter word. Did he not show you how much he cared for you? Did his actions not speak of how much you meant to him? 
No, it didn't. His lack of action that had cost him everything. Mihawk wouldn't let that happen again. 
“I don't think I should answer that over the phone, Angel.” 
He hears your breath hitch, and do he plows on, shoving away the unease that wants to settle like a deadly cloak. 
“I want to see you, again. Will you permit me that?” 
Before you can answer, you hear a commotion on the other end of the line. Curious, you listen in. 
Mihawk cocks an unimpressed brow when the door to his study flies open, banging against the wall and sending a couple of books falling from the shelves. Shanks gives him an unapologetic grin and shut the door softly behind himself. 
“Sorry about that, Baby,” the redhead slurs. He is drunk as a skunk, and Mihawk curls his lips at the stench that clings to Shanks, “I wanted to come see you, you've been avoiding me.” 
“It's not avoiding if you aren't seeking. I've been here this whole time,” Mihawk grumbles at the younger man and points to a chair on the other side of his desk. Shanks ignores him, loping around the desk to instead drape himself across Mihawk's shoulders instead. 
“Who're you talking to?” Shanks demands when he catches sight of the snail on Dracule's desk. 
“Hi Shanks,” the redhead zeros in when he hears your voice, dark eyes going wide and he makes grabby hands for the receiver. 
“Treasure! I miss you!” Shanks whines into the phone, and your chest tightens at the forlorn tone that coats his words, “When can we come home?” 
You can't help but giggle at his request, though that guilt still eats at you, you want to see them again. Maybe Perona was right about that second chance. It felt so good to speak to both of your boys, even if they hadn't been taking care of themselves, but you still didn't think you could have them here. Not yet. 
“Not yet, Shanks. I need some more time,” you murmur and wish you were there with them when you hear the sound of flesh meeting flesh. 
“Don't bother her with questions like that. She'll take all the time she needs,” Mihawk snaps and glares at the redhead who now lays sprawled on the floor. 
You listen to Shanks whine like a child in the background, and the sound of your two boys together makes you long to be there with them. 
“He's fine, Mihawk. How about you let him stay there with you, and I'll call you again soon?” You suggest softly. You know that Mihawk won't willingly ask Shanks to stay with him, but you didn't want either of them to be without the other right now. 
Dracule sighs heavily but nods all the same, golden eyes landing on the redhead who looks seconds away from passing out, “Only because you asked, Angel.” 
“Don't act like you don't love him,” you admonish quietly, and his next words shock you to the core. 
“You're right, Darling. I do love him.” 
You can hear the quiet astonishment in Dracule’s voice, and this time, it's happy tears that will up and threaten to fall. You sniff harshly, “See, that wasn't that bad, was it?” 
A fond smile plays on his lips, golden eyes soft, “No, no it wasn't.” 
A stilted silence settles over the connection, and the two of you speak up at the same time. 
“I should go-” 
“I should go-”
You huff a soft laugh and continue, “you should make sure Shanks hasn't drunk himself into a coma. I'll um, I'll keep in touch, okay?” 
“Alright, Darling, call again soon, okay?” Mihawk, please and grips the receiver harshly, voice turning desperate, “We miss you.” 
You swallow harshly, eyes clenched shut, “I will. I miss you too.” 
You hang up the transmitter, taking a deep breath before going back to Mihawk's chair and plopping down with a world weary sigh. Perona cocks a brow at you.
“Did it go okay?” 
You shrug, “Yeah, it was good hearing from them. Shanks will probably still be there when you go home, by the way.” 
You snicker at the sneer that ghosts across Perona’s face, finding amusement in her disgusted reaction, “Fantastic.”
@writingmysanity @djbumblebee @goth-mami-writer @myradiaz @fluffybunnyu @bookandstar @foggyturtleknightangel @browneyedhufflepuff @anastasiyax @jaguarthecat @atricksterwithwings @black-swan-blog27
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wwilsonbarness · 10 months
Text
all yours
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pairings: Bucky Barnes x y/n reader 
summary: you show Bucky the fanfic you found about him and he likes it
warnings: fluff, slight mention of smut, bucky and reader poke fun at some fanfic but this in no way reflects my feelings :)
word count: 2008
a/n: AHHH my heart can’t handle soft Bucky!! I love him so much
Feedback, likes and reblogs are much appreciated :) 
I do not give permission for my work to be copied, reposted or translated on any other platform.
masterlist 
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You quickly sent Bucky a text letting him know you were about to leave, he had just gotten back from a 2 week long mission and you had offered to pick him up knowing he would be exhausted. The compound was only a 20 minute drive from the apartment you and Bucky recently moved into after a year of dating. Part of you still couldn’t believe you were dating the Bucky Barnes, the man you had only heard bad things about on the news, people labelling him as a murderer, a bad guy with a troubled past. It only took spending a few minutes with him to realise he was anything but a bad guy. Yes, he had a past but doesn’t everyone? 
Traffic was a bit heavier than you expected meaning it took just over half an hour to reach the compound, pulling up you see Bucky and Sam arguing like always, they pretended to hate each other but you knew they actually saw each other as one of their closest friends. When you get out of your car and walk over to them you realise what they are arguing about, yet again. 
“I should sit in the front next time Sam, it’s only fair” 
“How is it fair Bucky? Tell me how it is fair?” Sam argued back. 
“Because I” Bucky paused, trying to come up with a reason as to why he shouldn't be forced to be squished in the back seat of the car when he and Sam are on their missions. “Just because I-” before he could continue Sam bursts into a fit of laughter. 
This was when you reached them, “what are you two arguing about now?” you ask, whilst playfully rolling your eyes. 
“Doll” Bucky says as he pulls you in for a hug, “I missed you” 
“I missed you too Buck, how was your mission?” you ask both him and Sam.
Sam is first to answer, “All smooth sailing, but thank god it’s over, I don’t know how you put up with him y/n”
“He’s not that bad” you say back to him, whilst chuckling. “Are you ready to go? I thought we could stop for some pizza on the way home?” 
“Yeah, let’s go doll”
“Sam, you wanna join?” 
“Thanks y/n but I gotta get inside, Bucky’s left me with all the paperwork” 
“Sam, I do the paperwork all the time” 
“Yeah yeah”
You can’t help but laugh at them going back and forward with each other, especially with what you read earlier. Somehow you had stumbled across fanfics about your boyfriend, and you couldn’t help but read them, one of them had Bucky and Sam’s friendship written to a tee. 
You and Bucky say goodbye to Sam before heading back to your car. The drive home was quiet, but this wasn’t unusual, Bucky usually used this time to mentally recover from the mission he’s been on and you understood that. You made a quick pit stop to pick up the pizza you had agreed to have for dinner and continued driving home. 
When you get home you put your favourite show on and both settle into the sofa to eat together. Bucky finished his food a lot quicker than you, he’d mostly likely been eating less than he needed whilst away. 
Once he finished his food he cuddled up next to you, “I missed you” he plants a kiss on your shoulder between his words. 
“I missed you too baby” Again you tried to hide your laughter, but for a different reason this time. Every story you read had Bucky written out to be this ‘tough guy’ but the truth was he was the complete opposite. He took every chance he could to cuddle with you, normally shrinking himself as small as he could. He was a softie at heart, especially when he was at home with you. 
He waits for you to finish your pizza before laying his head into your lap. “You okay Buck?” 
He doesn’t say anything but attempts to nod his head. It wasn’t unusual for him to be like this the day he came home from a mission, he needed time to get back into the right mindset and he would always be grateful to you for understanding that. 
You continue to rub your fingers through his hair until the credits begin on the TV, “You wanna go to bed?” 
“I'm just gonna quickly shower then I'll be through, okay?” 
You give him a quick kiss before replying, “Okay baby” 
Whilst Bucky is in the shower you clean up the rubbish from dinner and pack away your leftovers, cold pizza was Bucky’s favourite breakfast so you saved some for him. 
When you come through to your bedroom Bucky is still in the shower, you quickly change into your pyjamas before getting under the covers. To pass time you pick up your phone, intending to probably open tiktok and watch more cat videos that have taken over your feed. But, when you unlock your phone your screen lights up with safari, specifically open on a story you read earlier about Bucky. Part of you wanted to close it and forget about it but your curiosity took over. You scrolled down and read the title, “The First Date”, as you expected they wrote Bucky as a tough guy with an overwhelming amount of ego, and you couldn’t help but burst into a fit of laughter when you read the line, “Bucky knew he could get any woman he wanted”, your laughter got even louder as you kept reading. They described Bucky as someone with so much confidence and charm, as someone who spent the whole date talking about how he spends his days saving the world, or mansplaining everything to his date in some attempt to show power. 
It was so far from who Bucky really was, he was of course charming but not in that way, Bucky hated talking about how he spent most of time working alongside Sam saving people, he hated being praised for it, parts of him still feeling too guilty over his past. And for as far as how the date went in the story, your first date was the complete opposite, Bucky was the sweetest, most caring person, in fact he spent most of the night listening to you talk about your life, how you managed to go from being an assistant to finally being in a position where you could start your own business.
If it wasn’t for you laughing you maybe would have heard the water being turned off, it wasn’t until Bucky came into your room you had realised he was finished. “What’s so funny, doll?”
“Hmm?, Oh nothing” You tried your hardest to keep your laughter down but he could see right through you. 
“You sure? I could hear you laughing over the shower” 
“Oops sorry” you were slightly embarrassed but you still couldn’t help the smirk appearing on your face. 
Bucky quickly threw on some boxers before laying next to you. “So..” 
“So.. what” you tried to play innocent but you knew exactly what he was asking. 
“What were you laughing at doll?” 
You couldn’t quite bring yourself to say it out loud, instead choosing to say “Nothing, you’re just so cute” 
“Mhmm” Bucky now took it upon himself to do his signature pout, he knew you wouldn’t be able to resist telling him now. 
“Finee, but promise you won’t judge”, you knew he wouldn’t but part of you was still scared. He shot you a confused look so you picked up your phone and opened up the story you had just read. “I found these earlier, and kinda got sucked into reading them” you say as you turn the phone slightly so he can see better. 
“What is it?” 
“Fanfiction.. about you”
This only furthered his confusion, you could tell he had no idea what you were talking about so you explained further, “It’s like stories, that your fans write about you” 
“Fans? I thought most people hated me”
“Noo, there are so many of them, people love you on here”  Bucky had never really experienced having fans, he knew Sam had a lot but he never really thought people would get past his winter soldier past. 
“Wait, so why were you laughing? Are they funny?” 
“Because” you had to stop yourself from laughing before continuing, “listen to this” you go on to explain to him how they portrayed him in the first date story you had just read. By the end of you explaining he was in a fit of laughter. 
“Please tell me I wasn’t actually like that on our first date” 
“No you were the complete opposite, don't worry, but wait there's more” You search for a story you read earlier that made you laugh so hard you nearly had tears in your eyes.
“Look, listen to this. ‘Bucky had spent the whole morning perfecting his cupcake recipe, hoping to impress his girl’ ” This made Bucky laugh even harder.
“I have never baked a cupcake in my life” It was true, Bucky did not enjoy being in the kitchen at all and it was probably safer for everyone that he avoided it.
“Do you remember when you tried to make pancakes and-” you couldn’t even continue with how hard you were laughing. 
“Hey it wasn’t my fault!! The handle just fell off, I didn’t even do anything to it” This only made you laugh harder when you think back to when you heard Bucky scream and walked in to find Bucky holding a pan handle, and pancakes all over the floor.
You were now both uncontrollably laughing,, “I told you they were funny “ You spent a little time reading more stories before Bucky spotted one with a ‘Sambucky’ tag. 
“What’s that one?” You shake your head, you hadn’t seen any like this until now. When you clicked on it, it was nearly impossible to stop the giggle that was trying to force its way out of you. 
“It’s about you and Sam, being in love” This stopped Bucky’s laughing. 
“What?” You read out the first paragraph and he started laughing again. “I have to tell Sam about this, he’s gonna die”
“Please let me be there, I need to see his reaction” You both finished the rest of the story and you had tears in your eyes, this time not of laughter. “That was adorable”, Bucky tried to hide his reaction but he couldn’t. 
“Okay, it was actually kinda cute, pick another one, let's read more” You were surprised he found so much joy in reading these but you loved it. 
It takes a few minutes to find another one but Bucky chose one called "Our Wedding Night”, it began with ‘He ripped your wedding dress off, no care for how much money it had cost you, he just needed to be close to you’. 
You and Bucky turned to each other, shocked, this was not the sweet story you both expected. 
 “Bucky, I’m telling you right now, if you dare rip my dress on our wedding night I will file for divorce right there” This made Bucky laugh again, “So you wanna marry me?” 
“Of course I do, I love you” 
“I love you too, Doll” He takes your phone out of your hand and puts it on the table beside you, before pulling off the covers and climbing in between your legs.
“Now” He brings your lips together.
“Let me show you” He kisses your neck whilst unbuttoning your pyjama shirt.
“How I would really treat you” His lips ghost over your nipple causing goosebumps all over. He works his way down until he meets your shorts, he starts to pull them off as you lift yourself up to allow him. 
“On our wedding night” He brings his lips face down to your pussy and teases your clit with his lips”
“Bucky please” you whimper. He looks up and grins at you.
“I’m all yours doll”
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Note
ok ok lily hear me out~ byakuya, grimmjow, Ulquiorra getting a suprise cheek kiss ~(。◕‿‿◕。)
Gasp! What a fantastic idea! Much needed fluff as of right now.
Byakuya
It's not easy to do anything sneaky when Byakuya is involved but that makes the end result all the sweeter
He's such a guarded man, he never lets people get too close without him knowing they're there and you aren't an exception
This is definitely something that took many many tries to get done but each failure comes with a reward
It's not like he doesn't know what you're trying to do and he fines it so endearing
This small act, these constant attempts make his heart beat faster and his affection grow
The day you succeed in this surprise attack would also be the day he confessed his love to you
It truly is the sweetest reward and he's never been happier that you managed to get one over on him, even if it was just a simple kiss on the cheek
What started as a small but fun game now becomes a secret routine, if Byakuya is having a bad day you would sneak around and plant a soft kiss on his cheek before running off and he's never been happier
Grimmjow
It's not even a hard thing to do but know he won't let you escape once you commit to it
He always lets his guard down around you, you're trustable and he knows even if you tried to kill he'd win the fight
That also makes him the most prone to surprises as he doesn't expect you do anything weird
It would be such a simple thing, just a small thought that pops up when you're lounging around together
He's likely napping basking in the artificial sun and warmth while you gaze up at the clouds and enjoy this quite time you share
It's then that it happens, you lean over and just peck his cheek
Simple and straightforward, there was nothing special about it yet it set Grimmjow's heart ablaze
He rolls over and wraps his arms tightly together with some grumbling under his breath he presses heaps of kisses all over your face as payback and there you both stay, happy and silently in love
Ulquiorra
The nice and weird middle ground, he's not hard to surprise but it takes longer to understand for him
As is any kind of close relationship with this man is hard to form it would take a while for you to even think this was a safe thing to do
Once you get there though its smooth sailing and mostly easy to work around
He lets you just do what you want but know it will always end in questioning, he wants to learn more then anything
With that in mind actually surprising him is easy, you just need to run up and kiss his cheek before scampering away, he's left in a slight daze from the sudden affection
There will be a few beats of nothing before he simply walks off to go back to work or whatever he was doing before that
It won't get mentioned for days potentially and this might seem bad but that's just how this man is, he spends days mulling things over before asking about it
Once he's past the waiting faze you both have a big conversation about why you did it and what it means and after learning it's just another way you say you like him Ulquiorra will begin to do the same thing
Walking up to you just to peck your cheek and walk away again is just a part of his life now, it's easier, he finds, then saying how he feels
We did it! It took me a while but here we have yet another post! Thank you all so much for sticking around still, it means the world to know that people like my writing still. I hope everyone's been staying safe and I hope you enjoyed reading this. Have a good day or night~ Lilly
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Note
am I the asshole for being kinda mean.
I know the title sounds kinda bad off the bat but I don't really have another way of describing it.
I (19NB) struggle a lot with mental health issues. I won't go in detail, but I have autism and bpd. I grew up in a culture that does NOT like discussing these things, and my parents don't believe that my mental health issues are real. Because of this I've developed kind of a complex about talking about my mental health, I know it's unhealthy but I don't actually repress it, it's just a case of I don't like to tell friends (online or in person) anything about my mh at all until I'm sure I can trust them. I also really dislike "therapy speak", mainly bc I've had it weaponised against me in the past, though I recognise it is sometimes an important tool. Another final bit of context is that I did not use any social media at all up until 2022 after having not used socials since I was around 12, due to mh reasons.
I joined a fandom space I'd been casually lurking in since 2019 as an attempt to break into creating art in 2022. At first, everything was smooth sailing. I made a close knit group of friends fast, and everything was all good. Then, out of the blue one day, a friend of mine posted something that was quite triggering to me. It could've played as a joke but also used dark humor I found triggering. Now, one issue I have is that when I get triggered, rather than getting upset or panicky, I usually first get angry, then later deal with those symptoms. I snapped at this friend, then apologised and left the server, saying I didn't want to risk saying anything stupid.
I was dmed by multiple friends of mine telling me I had been horrible to them and made them cry . I don't think I said anything horrible. I think my words were close to "Hey, that's a fucked up thing to laugh at, and actually very fucking triggering for some of us lol" Passive aggressive and a bit mean? Sure. But I apologised almost immediately and I didn't think it was anything to cry over. One friend dmed me to tell me that "humor was their coping mechanism" and I "disrespected their coping mechanism". I attempted to explain that their joke had been triggering to me and that's why I reacted the way I did . Around 5 people dmed me at once while I was in a vulnerable state to tell me that I was being horrible and they couldn't believe I was so mean. I tried to distract myself, but people were getting mad at me for going offline, and it upset me so much.
One of my friends, A, who is from my country texted me to defend me, saying everyone who is mad are just Americans and I agreed bc I felt that way. They seemed like they were only taking into account this person's feelings because they were openly crying and like. Not playing victim but being more vulnerable than I was? This person talked about their mental health often and people would comfort them, but as soon as I was triggered and lashed out it was my fault for being horrible? I ended up apologising, since I really did feel bad for snapping at them, I really just didn't think it was that big of a deal. Some of those people never spoke to me again and I never rejoined the discord. A and I made our own discord later that some of the people who still talked to me joined and we are still friends.
What are these acronyms?
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magewritesstories · 1 year
Note
I’m not sure if you write for this version of this character in particular but I saw you did an incorrect quote for Harry Osborn, and I was wondering if you could do tasm 2 version Harry Osborn headcanons like a dating him includes?
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Harry Osborn // Dating Headcanons
Note: ofc, ofc I would love to share some hc's (btw AU where he doesn't have the Goblin Disease) TW: mentions of fighting, possessiveness (but not in the Wattpad mafia way y'know)
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okay so for starters, buckle up for enemies to lovers office romance
but it's one-sided; you dislike him, 'cause y'know he's kinda an asshole, but he just likes teasing you and doesn't actually mean anything he says
after a very drunk confrontation at an office party, you tell him you think he's an absolute asshole, and how much you hate working for him
after a while it just devolves to stupid things you dislike, like the way you hate that he drinks black coffee or that he has to have take-out all the time, or that he just randomly cancels meetings for no apparent reasons
the next day, you just find a box of chocolates on your desk
after that it's a little more smooth sailing
after a few months— which is enough time for harry to fully mourn the death of his dad— things start getting better
he's fully taken over as CEO of oscorp and proven to everybody, that despite the fact that he's young, he's still a good businessman
i imagine it's been a year, and now that you're both fully adjusted to the job, things start getting a little more spicy
at first you don't even notice the change; he puts down a cup of coffee— you're favourite order— on your desk when he arrives at the office, or he asks you to join him in eating take-out when you two are the only ones left in the office after a long day
then it escalates, you complain about the old coffee machines, and he has them replaced, or you offhandedly mention the fact that one of the lifts is always out of order, and the next day you see some poor mechanics who've been working at it all night walk past you, complaining about how much of hardass the "baby osborn" is
your friend is the one that mentions it first; "hey, weren't you complaining about those yesterday?"
at first you just shrug it off, he was being a good boss, so what?
but after a while, it gets into your head anyway
i mean, there are only so many sentences with a flirty undertone a girl can take
so, being you, you decide to outright ask him
"are you flirting with me?"
"i have been for the past three months, but thanks for noticing."
after that he just gives you one of those typical harry osborn smirks and walks off, hands in his pockets 'n everything
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Once you guys actually start dating though, he's a total sweetheart
His love languages are most definitely gift giving (giving) and physical touch (receiving)
Speaking of, you bet you're closet goes from being worth 200$ to being worth 8000$ within weeks
It starts off as small things, a cup of coffee on him, or some dinner in the office, just the two of you
But it escalates quickly
By the time you're three month anniversary rolls around, he's bought you just about the entire Jimmy Choo collection, and your amazon wishlist
He remembers everything you tell him, from the fact that you love a certain colour or dislike a certain food, he'll definitely remember
When you tell him you feel bad about the amount of money he spends on you, he just shrugs it off
besides you can pay him back by wearing that Victoria's Secret gift he got you a few weeks ago
Princess treatment all the way
The entire thing, holds your bags, opens the door, has his card out and has paid before you even reach for your wallet
Just loves spoiling you
Dates are usually one of two things:
One: Super extravagant, oh there's this cool restaurant in LA you want to check out when you go there? He has two tickets booked, and he's written it in his agenda for next saturday
Two: Super chill weekend in. The two of you just relax, watch some movies, have breakfast in bed, maybe even some pillow forts if he's feeling fancy, and of course, pillow fights that somehow always end up in make-out sessions
Extremely touch-starved, so will have his hands on you all the time
And he isn't even ashamed about it
Like, y'all will be at dinner, and he'll casually put an arm around your shoulder and pull you closer to him, to the point that you're almost in his lap
"Harry, we're in public!"
"So?"
"People are staring!"
"I reiterate: So?"
Just a sweetheart in general, he loves you and he isn't ashamed of it at all
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But of course, there are some downsides too
For starters, he's very unaware of just how privileged he is
He doesn't do it on purpose though, he really doesn't mean to seem like an arrogant jerk. But it just shows
For example, this one time, there was a super sale at Costco, and you were super excited to tell him, and he just stared at you like, "What's the big deal??"
You'd think hanging out with Peter would make him realize that not everyone has the same chances and problems growing up
It gets annoying sometimes, like how he just shrugs off employees overworking themselves with a "So, if they're so stressed, just take a day off."
He's trying though
Secondly, he's extremely possessive, so he gets jealous super easily
For example, the two of you will be at one of his rich people gala's—as you very fondly call them— and this random guy will have a chat with you, normal conversation, but with an obvious flirty undertone
And he'll get very annoyed
"Why didn't you tell him you had a boyfriend?" *insert pout*
"Harry, we were talking about the stock market, where would I just casually add that piece of information?"
He's annoyed for the rest of the night, as well as the car ride home— in which you tell him he's being childish— but the moment you get home he just sighs and tells you he's sorry for overreacting
Those fights usually turn into long night conversations, with tea and blankets
He also has the habit of forgetting dates
This is usually when there's a big project presentation coming up and he's nervous
Usually you don't mind, after all, you've seen first hand how brutal the board can be
But sometimes it's just a little too much, and all the other little things that have been bothering the two of you blow up into one big fight
You're both very stubborn so it just turns into a waiting game of who'll give in first
If he's the one who gives in, he usually turns up at your door with a huge bouquet of your favourite flowers and your favourite chocolates
Definitely the type to drive across the city to get you that one sweet, from that one shop you really like
If you're the one to give in, he'll just pout, and tell you he's still mad
He already gave in the moment you walked in though
He just likes to tease you, but after the third sorry he feels bad and tells you he's sorry for neglecting you too
He likes the idea of communication, and he's trying to get better at it
But when he can't find the words, he just defaults back to buying you stuff
That's how his dad always fixed stuff, so it's the only way he knows
But he tries, because it's you and you deserve nothing less than the best
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s-p-lobo · 2 months
Text
Heart of Stone
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A Shikamaru x Fem Reader pairing
Word Count: 5k
Warnings: smut, fluff, penetration, oral, mild slapping
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Summary: A mysterious admirer gave you a little heart made of stone almost 15 years ago and it’s been your lucky charm ever since. For a while now you’ve had an inkling as to who it was—a man that frequently visits you at your shop. The one and only lazy clouding gazing Shinobi—Shikamaru Nara.
Shikamaru Nara was dead.
DEAD TIRED that is.
The Ino-Shika-Cho team have had a long last three weeks, and for Shikamaru twenty one days outside of home was already eternal.
It was supposed to be a smooth sailing mission to the Land of Tea. It was supposed to be easy. It was supposed to be less than fourteen days. Escort the Daimiyo’s daughter, have Shikamaru delegate with a few other representatives from surrounding villages, sign trade agreements, and then come back home.
Easy right?
Nope. It was a mess
Sure they safely got the Daimyo's daughter to Tea, but it took longer than necessary (she just HAD to be a bit too grandiose for the fearsome trio). Sure they delegated and got their signature, but when men come into a room for a meeting to settle—it’s harder said than done when monopoly is involved. Sure they made it home, but that’s not to say they didn’t encounter inconvenient rogue shinobi along the road. Now, it’s not to say the trio couldn’t handle these troublesome annoying events. They did—with efficiency and success.
It was all just a fucking drag and Shikamaru Nara just couldn’t wait to come back home.
And the reason why? Well, that was unbeknownst to all except himself.
Having reported into the Raikage and then dismissed—Ino, Shika, and Cho headed down the road together tired, hungry, and wanting to just relax.
“She was totally eating you up Shikamaru!” Nothing ever got past Ino, when it came to her friends.
With his hands in his pockets, lack of sleep, and a flat glare, “So?” Shika responded in his lazy drawl.
Truth be told, Shikamaru was always sought out by ladies and men. His cool nature, intellectual wit, and the fact that his family name carried prestige—it was hard to bat the ladies and gents away. He was nearly thirty and he had hardly shown interest in anyone, and with Ino being Ino—well, it always caught her attention when a potential suitor for her lifelong friend came bouncing around the corner. There was a fine ambassador dame that had been making goo-goo eyes at Shikamaru the whole time whilst in the Land of Tea.
“What do you mean, so!” It was Ino’s turn to look irked, “Weren’t you at least a little bit interested???”
She moved forward about to bop him in the head, but her Fiancé (soon to be Yamanaka) Choji gently grabbed her by the waist to pull her away.
Shikamaru pinched the bridge of his nose, “Look guys, I’lliadmit she was pretty but that’s it. So just drop it.”
Ino’s not convinced. With a can cupped the next question is said quietly, “Can’t get it up?”
Both Choji and Shikamaru nearly trip over themselves.
They all come to a stop. Choji and Shikamaru glare at her.
“What???” Ino crossed her arms, “It’s a valid question! You're nearly thirty Shika! And with no prospects. I want a few kids soon, so that means you better work some magic soon! My kid will not be alone with no friends!”
Shika turns to Cho with a pleading look, “Choji control your woman will ya?”
“What did you say!” Ino launches at Shikamaru, but Choji catches her once again. This time he keeps her in a hug.
“Gee. It was a long mission huh guys? Ino let’s go home and rest up.”
He kisses her cheek and it was like magic. She relaxes and leans into him—Choji gives Shikamaru the opening to get away.
“We both know you ain’t resting when you get home.” Shika smirks, about to take Choji’s window of escape, but stops.
“Cho!” Shika yells to his friend, “Throw it!”
For a moment Cho is confused, until he remembers what Shika is referring to. He checks his jacket pocket and produces a little black bag.
Ino’s eyes light up in interest. Immediately she shoots off with questions. “Cho! What is that? What is that asshat talking about? Wha-”
She’s silenced with a kiss on the lips. Choji is brazen as he encircles Ino by the waist snaking down to her tush as he pulls her in tightly, but not before throwing the trinket with expert precision. The little black bag is momentarily forgotten as it flies into Shika’s hand and then pocket. He continues his path and raises a salute to his friend with a smirk.
The road home was quiet again. He could hear himself think, and with thinking came that nagging reason on why he so desperately craved to be back home. A lot of it had to do with that little black bag that was stuffed in his fist deep within the pocket of his trousers.
His feet came to a stop before an all too familiar building. It was an Apothecary—one his family had good standings with. It was a store many of Konoha’s citizens came to for the best herbs and remedies.
There across the way, right through the glass panel, he could see you—his reason for missing home. There you were with a catching smile, dressed to the nines, as you handed your customer their neatly wrapped purchase. His belly warmed and filled with butterflies at the sight of you. To him you were the prettiest gal around. Sure your dressage was always prim and proper, but that’s because you were the head of your company. Underneath you had a little rebel in you, some spunk, and a sailors mouth. He loved the way you always smelled. He loved the way you carried yourself. He loved that you always lined your eyes in the Nara trademark green (he was convinced you wore it for him). He loved everything about you.
No one knew someone had caught the young Nara’s eye; not even yourself.
Naturally he was nervous. He always was when he was around you. Sure you two talked, but you did most of it. He’s liked you since you both were fifteen, but he never did anything. He had other priorities at the time and so did you—with the war and everything in between therein and after, well, there was hardly time to even think about love let alone keep a relationship; it was only natural, for you lived in separate worlds. Despite the mess and the chaos, you both grew up well. You both survived. You both achieved what you needed to do. He became the right hand man to the Raikage and you became the new head of your father’s big enterprise company. Now nearly at 30–it seemed as both of you were finally ready to settle into a romantic partnership.
Shikamaru knew he was smitten, and he was ready; he just didn't know how to begin. But he might have an idea—the little black bag. With sweaty palms and two legs that felt like jelly, he steeled himself and walked into your store.
The little ding of the brass bell sounded out as the last customer in the store walked out and in walked another. Your head turned in the direction of the sound ready to greet your new guest. Your breath hitched as a familiar pair of rich brown eyes met with your own. You felt the pit of your tummy get giddy, for this was the very soul that had been occupying the space within your head rent free for the last year. Your hand went to your chest, for beneath your blouse you could feel your little stone necklace. Your little lucky charm.
“Well, well— if it isn’t the Nara that never showed up for our date.” You said playfully, of course trying to play it cool, as you moved from the counter to meet him across the room.
The smile that Shikamaru bore turned into a frown. Date? What date?? Shika thought as his heart began beating a little faster in his chest. Did he fuck up before he even began?
He tried speaking but all he was able to muster out was a small “eh?”
Now it was your smile that dropped. You felt your nerves begin to kick in.
“Gee kid. Don’t look so scared, I swear I’m a catch.”
You joked as you softly elbowed his waist.
There was something in his expression you couldn’t quite guess. It made you wonder if you had underestimated your friendship. Did you say something wrong? Did that joke come off wrong? Now it was your turn to frown.
Shika could feel himself panicking—Yu is no longer smiling and looking at him rather worriedly.
“D-date? I’m sorr—”
“Shika, are you short circuiting or something?” You begin, “The meteor shower, we were supposed to meet up down by the hill.”
“Oh shit,” he sighs, “You're right, I promised I’d meet you up. I swear I didn’t just leave you high and dry. I was called away. I couldn’t say anything about it.”
His shoulders are slumped forward and he looks uncharacteristically guilty. Your heart strings start thrumming, cause he looks like someone kicked his doe. You gulp and before you regret it, you go with your instincts as you rise up on your toes, kiss his cheek and engulf him in a tight hug.
“It’s okay Nara. I figured you were called away. Now come on—hug me properly, you forgetful stag.”
Though still slightly stiff, your Nara responds. As he bends down to accommodate you, he catches a whiff of your hair; apples and honeysuckle. His body responds without permission and his nose digs in slightly to take another deep whiff, you felt it and smile.
You two have been friends for a few years now, and only recently, did it feel as though there was a bit more to your relationship. Something had changed in the last year for both of you. Lately you haven’t been able to stop thinking about him, and you were 70 percent sure he liked you back. The thing that made you hesitate was the fact that it had indeed been a year and the man before you had not made a move. That in itself is what made you second guess yourself.
He was a beautiful man in more ways than one.
“Well at least I haven’t missed your birthday. As a matter of fact I brought you something back from my mission.”
With cheeks still tinged pink he kisses your crown and lets you go. Hands reaching into his pockets. At first his flak jacket. Then his back pocket. Then his front. He’s floundering and it seems as though he can’t find what he was looking for.
You laugh, “something in your trousers, tryin ta show me something?”
Shikamaru’s face is now beet red, “No! I-I brought you something. Actually, I have something to tell yo—”
Shikamaru didn't get to finish his sentence, for the bell to the store front had once again dinged and a voice interrupted their conversation.
“Yu! Hi—sorry. Have I interrupted?”
A man, a head taller than Shika, appeared by your side. He was a complete contrast to the dark features of Shika—light sandy hair, honey yellow eyes, and was slightly bulkier frame.
Though slightly peeved at the interruption, you turned to face him, but you still put on a smile.
“Who's your friend?”
Ding. The bell to the shop signals more customers. Your time with Shikamaru is most definitely over.
And, for Shikamaru—it was now or never. If there was never gonna be a right time. If there was always going to be interruptions. Then Shikamaru would simply have to make it his time. He steeled himself and caught your hand. You looked at him in question.
“I’ll pick you up tonight—here.” Shikamaru stepped forward and bent down to give you a kiss upon your pinkie-pie lips, with no hesitance.
Stunned, all you could do was nod with a dopey smile as Shikamaru walked out of your shop.
“Is he your boyfriend?”
“Chiba-san, how are you?”
“Daiki. How many times are we gonna go through this Yu?”
Your haze was broken and you were back to being your professional old self. Daiki Chiba was a regular client to this shop, had been for a few years now. Usually would pick up menthol pomades for sore joints and stiff bones. He too was a Shinobi like Shikamaru—you found it odd he would ask who Shikamaru was. Not that it was about bragging, but you knew the Nara were well known by most if not by all. They had distinctive feature and to a wood to the fire Shikamaru made a name for himself as well.
Daiki Chiba was a suave, handsome, and friendly enough man, but there was something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. Something about him made you nervous, he was a nice enough customer and you didn’t mind the small talk here and there, but to call him a friend—something told you it wasn’t the wisest idea. You could always feel his eyes on you. You’ve crossed paths on a few occasions and it was hard to leave conversations. His eyes always lit up when he saw you. He always stood a little too close. You’ve tried to deter him in a different direction, but you didn’t think it was working.
“Many times Chiba-san.”
There was a small crack in Daiki’s smile at your refusal.
“So is he a friend or boyfriend?” Daiki pushed as he leaned onto the counter, his hand supporting his chin.
“Chiba-san, how can I help you?”
“My usual please, Yu.”
“Coming right up.”
Behind the checkout till was the work and stock room. The room where you made all the lotions and potions that were made in house as well as other prepped medications. What Daiki frequently bought was a special bee venom pomade that wasn’t sold over the counter, a topical steroid cream for his severe eczema flares, and allergy medication.
As you wrapped up his thirty day supply of medications, you could feel his heavy gaze.
“Nicely packed and ready to go Chiba-san.” You said softly as you held out the little bundle.
“Thank you Yu-Chan,” his hand grazed your soft skin and lingered for a little moment as he took his bundle, “has anyone ever told you, that you look beautiful in green?”
Your stomach churned in nervousness and your cheeks tinged pink. It was nice to be complimented, yes, but it didn’t feel quite so right coming from Daiki. You were stuck with words and don’t know how to reply.
“Chi-ba-s-san. I—“
“See ya around Yu-chan.” Giving you another dashing smile he placed the money and the counter and turned to walk out and exit leaving you stuttering and with goosebumps.
“Ooo—weee, what I wouldn’t give to be you, child.”
You jumped at the sudden voice of old Mrs Tanaka. She was a recently widowed sixty-nine year old woman with good humor and spunk. She too was a regular to your shop—always there to purchase your classic ginger tea blends.
“I’ll talk you up next time he comes, Mrs Tanaka.” You humored her.
She laughed, “please do, I wouldn’t say no to a new exercise regimen.”
Now you couldn’t help but laugh.
The rest of your day went by quickly and as the minutes ticked down to closing time, the more your tummy grew with butterflies (the good kind). Everything else was forgotten except for your moment with Shikamaru. His nervousness was cute, and the way he surprised you with a quick kiss…you could still feel the phantom touch. Was tonight the night? That kiss had to mean something. If he didn’t ask you tonight, then to hell with it—you were gonna be the one to ask him out.
You shook your head and looked at the clock, damn; better get a move on with finishing closing up the store. You counted, you put away, and you cleaned. In no later than an hour you finished your duties. Grabbing your purse and keys you turned off the lights and headed out the door. As you inserted the key to lock up, your felt a breeze and hands come upon your waist. Your heart went from 0 to a hundred, because it all happened so quickly.
You let out a squeak as you turned around to hit your assailant with your bag (which hit its target). He stumbled and went down to his knees and in your blind haze your went for hit two.
“Yu! Wait, it’s me! Shikamaru!”
Your purse stopped mid air and you realized it was indeed Shikamaru that was kneeling with a bloody nose.
“Oh my—Shika!” You were mortified at the sight of blood spewing from his nose.
You scrambled to help him up as his hand was already pinching at his nose.
“You nearly gave me a heart attack you boob!” Your hands fumbled with picking up your keys to open your store front back up.
“Come on,” you sighed as your opened the door and firmly took him by the elbow to lead him inside all the way to your back room. There you turned on the light and sat him down at your table.
“Don’t lean your head back, you’ll swallow your blood,” you said as you gently shifted his head forward, “just pinch your nose.”
“What the hell do you carry in that bag! A brick?”
You heard him ask as you rummaged for a cloth to dampen with warm water so you could clean him as well as a small bowl.
“Of course I carry a brick. For this exact reason! I thought you were…” you paused as your thoughts trailed to Daiki.
“Yu? Is there someone you were expecting?”
“No! I just thought—in case I get mugged. You can never be too careful.” You brought the empty bowl right underneath his chin, “here spit—it’s nasty when you swallow blood.”
Shikamaru narrowed his eyes cause your eyes wouldn’t meet his. He didn’t quite believe you. Were you jumpy about someone else? Perhaps the man from earlier—your body language wasn’t receptive, and Shikamaru didn’t exactly feel good vibes from him either, there was something off about him. That’s what prompted his kiss. But, Shikamaru said nothing. He followed your instructions and spit into the bowl.
“I really am sorry Shika,” you sighed as you gently took the hand that wasn’t on his nose to clean it with the warm towel that you had dampened with alcohol and warm water.
Gently you worked on his hand and he couldn’t help but stare at you as you cleaned him with care. He loved your warm touch. His belly once again filling with butterflies and the tinge on his cheeks intensified.
“Don’t be. I shouldn’t have snuck up on you. Besides, it’s good to know my woman packs a punch.” He smiled not noticing his little declaration
You did of course—your heart skipped a beat.
“I’m your woman?”
Shikamaru realized what he said and fumbled,“my-I-mean-what-I-“
You placed a finger on his lips to shut him up.
“Don’t you dare take it back…I’ve been waiting for you to make a move for over a year. You sure know how to keep a girl on her toes.”
With all the courage you could muster you hiked up your knee length pencil skirt to open your legs so you could maneuver yourself to sit on his lap facing him. His pupils dialated and his hand went to clutch your meaty thigh.
“Give me your other hand.”
He obeyed wordlessly and you cleaned the blood off. Once free it went to encircle your waist. You then moved on to clean his face from the blood—his nose long since had stopped flowing.
“Good news…it’s not broken…” you trailed off as your breath hitched. You were sucked into his beautiful hazel gaze.
“Mmhmm.” All he could do was hum as his lips met yours in a heated kiss—tongues dancing with each other.
Your hands let go of the cloth and snaked their way up his chest to encircle around his neck. His nails deliciously dug into your thigh while his other rose to hug your back to pull you in closer to his body. Your skirt rose higher and exposed more skin. Then Shika let out an earthy moan and a fire lit in your belly.
You both broke your kiss to breathe, your chest heaving heavily.
“Will you be my girl, sweetheart?” His voice was wonderfully ruff.
You let out a small giggle and nodded, “Yes.”
You gave him one more kiss and he was reluctant to let go as you moved to get up from his embrace.
“Do we have to?” He said as he was placing a trail of kisses along your neck.
“Yes. Now come on. Let’s close up shop and you can take me home.”
He conceded and let you get up from his lap, his eyes never leaving you as he watched you fix your skirt. You held out your hand and he took it to help him stand. As you went to get ready to clean, expecting him to let go but he didn’t. You looked at him in question.
“Shika?”
His hand pulled out a little black bag from his trouser pocket and placed it in your hands.
“I tried to give this to you earlier, but we were interrupted. I picked it up while on my mission…” he trailed off as you emptied out the little bag onto your palm.
“Happy birthday…”
Out came a pale pink stone—morganite. It was a beautifully polished tear shaped gem.
“I knew it. I knew it was you.” Your heart swelled in happiness and you brought Shikamaru in a tight hug.
Truth be told, you had a fondness for collecting stones and gems (a hobby really) and every year since you were fifteen, on your birthday, a mysterious little black bag would appear on your window sill. Neatly placed with a simple little note in neat writing, ‘happy birthday’. No name and no face, but the writing always seemed familiar. It was always a different stone each year.
You broke your hug from Shika and dug into your neck to pull out a necklace hidden beneath your collar. Attached to a silky black string was a wonky heart shaped tiger’s eye stone. Shikamaru’s eyes widened—his hand gently reaching to touch your necklace.
“My heart of stone—it’s my lucky charm, so I always carry it with me.” You said shyly as you looked down.
Shika went to lift you chin and bent down to meet you in another kiss. This time soft and sweetly. Shikamaru was not a conventional guy. You’d take rocks over flowers any given day no matter how simple.
It was all a blur after that. You safely tucked away your stone, cleaned and locked back up. Shika walked you home and as he turned to leave the fire in your belly couldn’t let him go. You tugged him into your home and he didn’t protest.
Your lips once again met his in a feverish kiss. He met you back with equal need. Placing his hands on your hips he squeezed, motioning you to bend and jump. He caught you and held you tightly as you wrapped you legs around him.
“Shika,” you said in between heated kisses, “make love to me.”
All he could do was moan and nod as your hand dug into his hair to free him of his updo to let his long silky black locks flow freely. He turned and pushed you up the wall.
“Anything sweets. I’ll make you feel good.” He said as he broke away to breathe, “bedroom?”
He took out the hair clip holding your hair as well. Your hair immediately fell to frame your face.
“Over there, down the hall, last door on the left…”
Effortlessly he took you to your bed and laid you down and you let go, your eyes following him as he began to remove clothes. You did the same—first with your high heeled shoes.
“No.” He stopped your hands, “leave them on. Your stockings too.”
Your cheeks tinged red and you obliged. Leaving you black heels on you proceeded with removing your pencil skirt but left your silky nude pantyhose on. Shika had undressed faster than you, and you felt the buttons of your shirt rip open as Shika’s strong arms just pulled it open.
“Maru!” You said surprised.
He only smiled as continued helping you as he removed your bralette, leaving you in just your heels and pantyhose (they were lined with a cotton gusset).
For a moment you both lovelingly observed each other’s nude bodies. He was lean and well muscled with meat in all the right places. Your eyes zeroed in on his defined V and the little happy trail leading down to his penis. Your pupils dilated and your hand reached out to follow the attractive trail. His breath hitched and his eyes closed as your hand came to clasp onto his semi erect cock. Your hand moved, rubbing him up and down to make him grow harder. His head tipped back and bit his lip, one hand reaching out to clasp onto his neck to steady himself while the other rose up to fondle his own pec and nipple.
You could feel him grow in your hand by the minute and you could feel your cunt get wetter and wetter at the sight of his length and girth as you continued with your milking ministrations
“Sweet…” his husky voice sounded out, “sweetheart wait. I’ll come if you don’t stop.” He looked at you with half lidded eyes and stayed your hand.
He bent down to catch you in another hungry kiss pushing your back onto the bed.
“Do you have any condoms?”
You nodded and pointed to the drawer next to your bedside. Quickly he opened the package and rolled it on, so he could turn his attention back to you. He stood over you and much to your surprise his hands grabbed onto your pantyhose and easily ripped them open with to expose your dripping wet pussy. You had no time to think as he climbed to settle at your side. His mouth immediately latched onto your breast and began sucking and flicking your nipple with his hot tongue while his other hand trailed down your stomach to find purchase on your needy wet lips.
As his hands began to need your clit he felt a little metal piercing. You knew he was about to ask so you hands flew to keep his head sucking on your tit.
Threw many breaths, “y-yes…it’s a p-piercing…got-t it a year a-go…don’t stop-p Shika!”
Your hips rose up to signal him to keep going.
“So—hot baby.” He mumbled. He detached himself from your tit and moved. His hand coming to a stop.
Your eyes opened in protest until you felt something wet and hot latch on to your cunt. It was his mouth. Feverish, wet, and hot. His tongue flicking and massaging your bundle of nerves—kissing and sucking too. Your back arched forward and one hand dug into his hair to keep him there.You gasped as you felt him slip a finger inside you and begin to pump.
“Yes! Maru’. Yes—a-hgh-ahh!”
Another finger slipped in. His finger pumped harder and pressed upwards.
“Mmm—don’t stop. Don’t stop. There. There! Ohh—awghhh.” You moaned as you began feeling yourself climax. Your meaty thighs squeezed his head and he lapped up your squirted juices.
He would happily die with your wonderful thighs wrapped around his head.
Your breathing was heavy as you let go of his head.
“I’m sorry—I don’t know what came over me…” you looked away as you realized that you had clamped his head in.
“You taste so good Yu,” as he moved to hover on top of you. His gaze was so lustful.
Hi spreads out your legs, one to the side and the other is up (ankle to his shoulder). His head turns and kisses your silken leg as his head penetrates into your soft and hot cunt. He lets out another earthy groan of pleasure as he bends slightly forward and begins to pump into you. His eyes glued to how your soft tits are bouncing to his rhythm. On instinct and to both of your surprise. His hand lightly slaps your boob.
It excites you. And for a moment Shika is mortified, until you squeeze his cock with your vaginal muscles and say, “Again baby. Do it again.”
He begins to pump his dick into faster and faster. Hand large hand kneeling at your lush boob. He pinched and pulls at your nipple. Slapping it on occasion.
“Yu. Oh-awgh, your squeezing me,” his voice is breathing and his pale skin has gone pink at his chest, “s-so g-good sweet-h-heart. Mmmm-hmm. “
The ministrations from your chest stop. He’s reaching his climax. So like any good man does. He removes your own hand from your clit and replaces it with his own. With good rhythm he jacks you off while pounding into you.
“Shika!”
“Cum with me, sweetheart!”
And you both do. You squirt all over him as you feel his cock twitch inside you. His balls have gone tight. He pulls out and immediately sucks off and laps up your juices. Your hips and pussy twitch from the over stimulation of his kisses.
As you both take a minute to come down from your high he steps away for a moment to remove his condom. Your left wonderfully dazed staring at your ceiling as seeing stars. You feel the bed dip he comes to lay next to you and pulls you on top of himself. Hands squeeze into the fat of your ass and he kisses you. You could taste yourself on his lips and you find out that it’s a sweet metallic taste—with you being so close to your period cycle.
“You ain’t gonna back me walk back home are ya?” He says playfully.
“I dunno. I’m a wham, bam, thank you ma’am kinda gal.”
He playfully slaps your ass and you giggle.
“Kidding! No. I need to stay with me—I wanna be with you Shamaru Nara.” You say softly as you sweetly kiss his cheek.
“You’re the one. Have been for a long while, I think.” He smiles as he touches the little heart of stone on your neck.
“You fancy a shower?” You wiggle your eyebrows.
With a quick kiss he finds the strength to lift you both and carry you into the bathroom.
“As a matter of fact I do.”
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