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hai7ani · 9 days

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talk 2 me / haitani rindou

You think Rindou is the most charming he can be like this ー fresh out of a nap, hair all messy and wearing his old basketball jersey from high school as he shoves your cooking down his throat. There's sleep marks all across both his arms, a tiger balm plaster stuck on his left shoulder that he'd rummaged through cabinets and asked for you to help him stick it on, the evening sun kissing all over his back, painting his soft tanned skin pretty gold and honey.

And you? You're sprawled across the couch watching him, TV show long forgotten and the remote control in your hands as you fiddle mindlessly with the buttons. You think you really want to press a kiss to his toned bicep ー maybe nibble on it a little, watch him hiss in faux pain as if he isn't already used to the gentle sting of your teeth poking into his flesh, your teethmarks indented and some saliva smeared across his skin.

But here's the thing ー Rindou is mad at you (you think your baby is still mad at you). He isn't facing you while he eats ー well, technically he is facing you, just sideways, kinda. You know he knows that you're looking at him ー watching him like a hawk, taking in his every move as he feeds himself spoon after spoon of the leftover bowl of rice you couldn't finish, and hearts in your eyes despite the little argument shared earlier in noon.

"Honey," you start, voice all soft and sweet when calling him such a lovely endearment, and Rindou visibly softens at your coo. His shoulders aren't as tense anymore and he not-so-discreetly starts lowering down the volume of the movie playing from his laptop.

You heart flutters a little at his gesture despite knowing that he is still mad at you. "'M sleepy. Gonna go nap a bit." You wait for him to process it, and with that, you retreat into his room with his cat following behind in little meows.

He blinks a bit when he hears his bedroom door closing and puts down the spoon with a sigh. Ran emerges from the balcony with a scoff after having to witness all that went down.

"Are you still not going to say sorry?"

Rindou doesn't think he's felt this guilty before.

You awake from your nap to soft kisses littered all over your face and a familiar weight pressed on top of yourself.

With one eye open you see your honey lying atop of you, beefy arms wrapped around your torso, your waist, and he's chosen to bury his head into your neck now. His cat rests just a little beside both your legs, purring loud as ever, but she is awake and she is watching the both of you as Rindou clings and buries himself into your warmth while you rub and massage his shoulder for relief.

"You know, I dreamt of you taking me to the beach." You murmur, hints of sleep still evident in your voice. You feel his lips stretch into what seems like a smile against your skin. "You were only asleep for 10 minutes."

"A lot can happen in 10 minutes, baby... My dream, for one."

He scoffs playfully against you and neither of you speak anymore afterwards ー just busy enjoying each other's warmth and basking in the sun until it slowly lowers itself and hides behind the many skyscrapers of Tokyo.

It's quiet until it's not.

"Are you still mad at me?"

You poke and tickle your nose against his cheek, prompting him for a response. You wish for him to say that he isn't. You don't like it when he is mad at you ー you never do. You hate it, actually. And you hate it even more when you fight knowing it's no one's fault and you hate it too when you do not know how to communicate to him despite knowing what it is that you actually, really want. (He doesn't really, either, but you're both trying for each other, and it is all that matters.)

"No, I'm not." You melt into his arms as you let him manoeuvre you both on the bed until you are facing each other. Rindou still has his hands wrapped around you, so you move one of your own to rest on his arm, thumb rubbing soft circles onto his pec as you listen to him speak.

"'M sorry for earlier. Didn't mean to raise my voice. Was just frustrated 'n everything. You never really tell me what you want." He apologises in broken up sentences and your heart melts a little upon spotting the cute pout on his lips as he nuzzles closes to you.

"I mean, I just want you to tell me what's up, what's going on, you know? I won't... I won't react differently. 'S just me, babe. Tell me things. I don't want you to keep it all inside." Rindou confesses.

A warm, calloused palm covers itself on your hip. One of your own covers his cheek.

"I know. I'm sorry for earlier too." A thumb swipes across his brow, then his eyelid. "I don't really know how to tell you things, but I am trying. I know you won't judge, but it's hard to open up."

"...Then we'll try, together. Jus' don't wanna see you sad. Don't like it when we fight either."

You know Rindou hates it when he does things that upsets you. Like the one time he'd gone out and fought with the douchebags who'd messed with you despite telling him not to, and he'd ended up coming home to you with one black eye and a busted lip only to see you in tears because you don't like seeing him all beat up. That was ages ago, when he was still young and had nothing much to lose except for you. Or the other time when Rindou had accidentally neglected your feelings at the start of your relationship because his simple mind couldn't yet differentiate between time spent with you and time spent together with you.

But those were the past. Right now, he's looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky ー like you'd crafted the Earth and created the Sun.

"Promise me you'll tell me things, yeah? Make it my problem too. We'll settle it together." He grabs your hand on his cheek ー kisses the tips of your fingers, then your palm.

"Okay."

And you both watch as a certain furry creature squeezes its way past both your bodies ー little movements accompanied by soft meows, until it eventually finds a comfortable spot between you and your lover and confidently topples down right where you face each other.

"We'll go to the beach tomorrow." Rindou grumbles in annoyance after being fed a mouthful of cat fur, honeyed voice a little muffled as he tries his best to shift her into his arm, "...with this light bulb here."

You laugh into his chest. "Okay, honey."

i feel like most of my stuff are pretty repetitive but i am such a sucker for gentle, mundane romance 😕😕

#rindou haitani #haitani rindou #rindou x reader #rindou haitani x reader #haitani rindou x reader #tokyo revengers #tokrev #tokyo revengers x reader #tokrev x reader #tr x reader #tokyo revengers fluff

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evie-sturns · 4 months

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𝐁𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐱 - 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬 𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨

summary: it's your special day, your 20th birthday! chris hasn't given you a present all day, and nothing seems to be going to plan, but he makes up for it later.

contains: public sex, smut, fluff, soft dom!chris, swearing, crying.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

8:54am

i wake up to chris planting kisses all over my face, a stupid grin painted across his face.

"chriss.." i groan, rubbing my eyes as i sit up in our double bed.

"happy birthday!!" he says, pulling me by my arms up onto the floor, im so unstable i stumble over.

my birthday has always been my favorite day of the year, everyones attention were on me, it was just going to be a stress-free day with my friends, my boyfriend and his brothers.

"shit." chris says, picking me back up, holding me in a bridal position. "you excited!!" he says, placing me back down on my feet

"love you chris." i smile, walking over to the wardrobe and pulling out the outfit ive had planned for days.

ive known chris for 11 years, he was my bestfriend until 1 year ago, when he became my boyfriend.

i strip off my pyjamas, leaving me revealed as i scramble through the shelves to find underwear.

i feel chris's eyes laying on me, "you feel elderly yet?" he says, breaking the comfortable silence.

i scoff "very."

"you look good for how old you are" chris jokes, walking over to my side.

i see his hand reach out, but he pauses instantly when the door rattles. "y/n!" i hear nick call out, i can hear the smile on his face.

"im butt naked right now nick, ill be out in a few!" i call out, chris shakes his head with a grin painted across his face.

"gross." i hear nick say back, slightly quieter this time.

"nick its 9 in the morning what do you take me for!" i say, pulling up my skirt, and readjusting my tanktop. i get on my toes, planting a kiss on chris's nose before unlocking the door.

im met with nick, a bunch of balloons in hand with matt standing next to him. their face light up as they see me.

"you're looking kinda wrinkly.." matt says, pulling me into a hug.

"do i actually look old cause you're the second person to point out my 'aging'" i ask, nick handing me the balloons

12:06pm

nick, matt, chris, madi, nate and i have been hanging around the sturniolos house for the day, i've spent the majority of the morning laughing, until a pile of wrapped presents from my friends appears in front of me.

i open them all, thanking whoever gifted it to me with a hug.

chris doesn't give me one though?

i brush it off, maybe he just forgot.

to make things worse, ive just been told madi and nate were both scheduled to leave at 1, both needing to go to nates final ice hockey game, which the sturniolos and i were going to skip.

"oh fuck, we better go madi." nate says, jumping up off the couch and grabbing his keys. madi's sighs before leaning down, squeezing me in a hug. my heart sinks a little, today was meant to be a day with my friends.

"love you y/n, we'll update you about what happens later!" they call out before the door swings shut.

ive been sitting on my bed for 2 hours, scrolling aimlessly on my phone as chris sits on the other side of the room at his desk in silence, the faint clicking noise from his keyboard filling the room.

today was meant to be perfect.

i feel my throat dry up as i let out a shaky breath.

ive never cried on my birthday, i've always been too distracted to even think about getting upset, but now, when today has just felt normal, the tears are building up.

i mean, it hasnt been a bad day. its just been too regular.

i feel a few tears fall down my cheeks as i stare at chris's back.

i try my best to stay silent, but a broken sob exits my mouth, i slam a hand over my lips. chris's head snaps back to look at me, his face drops. "oh shit.." chris mumbles before speed-walking over to me, throwing himself down onto the bed to face me.

the tears won't stop now, even with my failed attempts to make excuses up to chris.

"sweetheart please don't cry." chris says softly, holding me in a tight hug as my eyes dampen his shoulder. "talk to me gorgeous, i know you love your birthday you shouldn't be crying yeah?"

"i dont know.." i say in between sobs, chris stays silent, he knows im lying.

"i just wanted it to be perfect.." i sniff, chris rubs my back.

"can i show you something..?" chris says awkwardly, pulling away from the hug. my eyebrows furrow, "okay..?" i say. chris grabs my hands, pulling me up out of bed. he leans down and grabs a sweater from the floor, putting it on my body before taking my hand again.

he walks us downstairs in silence, he seems nervous. chris opens the front door, we walk towards his car and he opens the door to let me in. "ladys first.." he says, trying to lighten the mood.

we've been driving for about 3 minutes before chris breaks the silence, "i was meant to take you here later but.. you know." he says, tapping his fingers lightly on the steering wheel.

i nod, chris accelerates slightly as we drive up a hill, we suddenly come to a halt. chris clears his throat, as he turns off the car.

we're parked in a small parking lot on top of a hill, theres trees directly infront of us, the sunset just peeking through the leaves. chris grabs my hand gently, "uh chris?" i ask, he just kisses my lips "shh."

we go through the trees until we they stop, my jaw drops, theres a small picnic blanket, some flowers layed on it along with a note.

its the same spot where me and chris kissed eachother for the first time, 4 years ago.

chris has never been the romantic type, he finds it 'yuck' apparently.

"chris oh my god.." i say, chris is fidgeting with the ties of his sweatpants. i sit down on the picnic blanket, with a groan chris sits down next to me.

"i think this is the sweetest thing anyones done for me.." i say, wrapping my arms around him.

chris shakes his head "shut upp..." he smiles.

"no seriously, i might cry again right now."

"don't you dare." chris says with a small laugh.

a comfortable silence grows between us as the sunsets, i break it after a few minutes.

"we should fuck."

"what?" chris says, his head snapping round to look at me.

"no just think about it, 4 years ago we had our first kiss here, so we should hook up here!" i say, concealing my laugh.

"i meannn whatever you want" chris says, trying not to seem as eager as he actually is.

i pull off my shirt, discarding it on the picnic blanket. theres trees behind us, and a cliff infront of us, its pretty private.

chris helps my shorts off, before laying me down softly on my back, he places his hoodie down under my head as a pillow. "you comfy?" he asks, spreading my legs open wider. i nod, chris pulls down his sweatpants and boxers in one motion, his erection springing out.

he smiles, holding my waist with two hands and lining himself up with me, "ready?" he asks, maintaining eye contact. "very." i smile back.

chris presses his tip inside of me, i stretch around his size, reaching out a hand, chris grabs my it.

he finally pushes the whole way into me, a desperate moan escapes my mouth. "such a pretty noise yeah?" chris says, his voice hoarse as he starts to thrust into me, his tip brushing my cervix each time.

strings of moans and whimpers exit my mouth as i squeeze his hand tighter, chris keeps a firm grip on my waist. "so so good for me, squeezing my dick so well." chris groans.

with each thrust, the knot in my stomach becomes tighter, i arch my back off the picnic blanket, "fuck chris oh my god." i yell, "cum for me gorgeous, can feel you clenching..." he says, stumbling over his words.

with a scream of his name the knot in my stomach snaps, chris pulls out, painting my stomach with white streaks. "g-..good girl." chris says, flopping down next to me on the blanket.

we've been laying here for the past hour, laughing, talking and watching the moon. the summer air is warm on my bare body, we both couldnt be bothered to get changed just yet.

"you know.." chris says, running a hand through his hair.

"hm?" i ask, looking over to see his face, which is barely illuminated.

"we should make this a traditon, ya know? birthday sex."

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i really liked writing this, thank you for the request babe

#sturniolo #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo x reader

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sweetheartsaku · 2 months

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—HAIKYU!! various ; better in the dark

a/n ; [gn!reader] how deep is your love pt 2???!?!! AND YES!! the title is a tv girl reference :3c please dont let this flop!! praying that all the ppl who found pt 1 found this 🥹🩷 tysm for all the notes everyone!! <3

— characters : akaashi, kenma, kita, semi, kageyama, suna

part 1 ! ♡ oikawa, osamu, tsukishima, hinata, sakusa, kuroo

tea roses !

keiji akaashi ; tip toe - HYBS

THIS MAN. he will take you out on absolutely BEAUTIFUL dates. they are scheduled and well thought out, all without you knowing. knows what you like, can predict what you order, where you will sit or do, and KNOWS how to fluster you effortlessly. UNSPOKEN RIZZ AT ITS FINEST YOUR HONOUR!!

at one point he had to resort to the notes app to write what you're like but had realised he had subconsciously memorised all of it by heart. deleted it and still knows you like the back of his hand!!

weirdly knows how to pick the best candles.

the warm, nostalgic smelling ones. candles that are the perfect dash of nostalgia, that feel comforting and warm. i wonder if its in the brain or an instinct thing

for anniversaries or literally just whenever, he makes paper flower bouquets. they are so intricate and every little detail, colour and fold makes it so perfect. in-between classes or when he finishes work early, he'll be nonchalantly folding another smaller flower for the arrangement. he does it so effortlessly too 😭!!

sometimes likes to fiddle with your fingers especially if you wear rings. one of the only and very sweet moments of PDA!! gently rubs his fingertips over your knuckles and tracing all the lines. i need an akaashi keiji in my life

will send you the most beautiful, heart-wrenching and mesmerising poems at an insane hour. you'll wake up with a couple paragraphs about how important healing or taking one step at a time is, making sure you fall in love with yourself everyday too. (please do)

kozume kenma ; cherry wine - grentperez

facinated by painted nails. on holidays he might paint them black, or maybe get a little cat sticker on his index!! pick the colour he'll love it either way

cherishes your little trinkets so much 😞 polaroid of you two and stickers on the back of his phonecase, keeps some of the random stuff you give him in his pocket. you could find a rock you gave him like 3 months ago but he kept it because you said it reminded you of him??

perfectly able and capable to order things by himself, but you know he isn't the type of guy to actually seem to WANT to do it. he is too lazy to actually get up but not lazy enOUGH when it comes to you. he might hide behind you. "HE SAID NO PICKLES!!"

CRAZY beef with your plushies. or anything you hold dear honestly. he can and will get pouty. BEWARE!! you must give him a lil' kiss to earn his attention back. (loves the forehead ones)

sometimes he forgets or just doesn't want to eat. it will get to the extent where you have to spoon feed him,,please remind and encourage him to ! eating, sleeping... just can't do it without a little push.

does this thing with his hands when you cross the road. i don't wanna say grabby hands because its pretty cringe, but it is definitely grabby hands. has no idea why he does it but its such a sweet and small gesture╰(*´︶`*)╯♡ !

cat parents but not exactly cat parents? 🤔 you found this stray cat once, and started visiting it everyday on the way to school. you cared for it, and when kenma picked that up he was also instantly fond of it too. now you both kinda feed it your leftover lunch when you visit the cat after school.. he's so precious with the little cat ueue.. take pictures before the moment fleets!

has the date you two met written on his controller... (he was so hesistant at first though LMAO)

shinsuke kita ; old love - yuji, putri dahlia

uses your initial for math variables. he'll use x or y sometimes, but his first option is ALWAYS your initial. you found this out on a study date once, math talk blablabla and he uses to what seems to you a 'random letter' NO. it is your initial!! 😞 when you ask he seems unfazed, but his ears are pretty red... idk guys i think he wants you

one of the people that make you stiffen up when they get physical. when he lays his head on your shoulder you instantly freeze up, trying not to move a BONE so you won't disturb him. it's like muscle memory to you LMAO.

really pretty, long lashes... if you've read part one, oikawa and tsuki are very similar :0!! loves when you graze his lashes with the back of your index finger

like akaashi, learnt how to make flowers but they're crochet 🥹 i think growing up his grandma had taught him how to crochet and all the little patterns. overtime, dedicated himself to making an arrangement every anniversary... they come with little heartfelt letters too!! (kita boyfie material COME HOME!!)

very routinal as well!! like kuroo (he is the full package) he never misses a morning or night to say good morning or good night. AND he places sticky notes around your desk or places he knows you'll be in reminding you to smile or something along those lines !!

what took the cake for me was when he left a little bag filled with goodies once he realised atsumu was sick 😣 definitely does the same for you... sends bag with a bowl of hot soup his grandma made at your front door

eita semi ; i wish you roses - kali uchis

weirdly immersed in the painting of nails as well. sometimes he'll ask you to paint his in black but he got dress-coded a week later 😓 SIKE gives NO shat and kept them on anyway. they are way too valuable to him to just erase. nails done in a simple colour he likes?? by his s/o?? wiped off?? very funny shiratorizawa

i think + the neighborhood, he likes tv girl, kendrick lamar, childish gambino but has a duality of laufey and beabadoobee's bedroom pop and fuzzy rock??

sick of people making arctic monkeys his personality 😞 musicians arise!! apart from the VBC, hes probably in a band too. small gigs here and there for school, and a few fun sessions with his friends just to play whatever. come to his gigs! (sometimes he'll magically play 10x better when you're around, he says)

share earphones with him PLEASE. on rainy bus rides or walks home, he'll play something you like hehe c:

takes you out to the mall closest to shiratorizawa to go pick up some fast food or a drink. it usually gets really crowded from all the surrounding schools so he keeps you close by the waist

and obviously the basic, will sit with you and teach you the basics of bass or electric guitar. i think he'd play a bit of percussion too (о´∀`о) sometimes he'll take you into his lap, but thats when he feels pretty clingy but very discreetly!!

tobio kageyama ; what would i do? - strawberry guy

please don't try to flirt with him he WON'T UNDERSTAND!!!! *gunshots*

if you say literally anything that isn't directly stating your point, he will not get it. using metaphors or just figurative language in general he is STRUGGLING. you need to say, "you're pretty." because things like "i fall in love with you every day" or "i'll find you in every universe" he will actually look at you BAFFLED. please help this man

thinks about what YOU would do. like when he is in doubt or feels like he's about to lash out, he will take a moment and literally ask himself what you'd do or say. even in tests or something completely unrelated to you he will literally ask himself what you would put in the answer box !!

face scrunch when he gets jealous ! he kinda has a lil' pout but can't bring himself to say anything. when you finally notice him he'll have this lil' (๑ˋ^ˊ ๑) face... please kiss his eyelid or the corner of lips cuz HE HAS TOO MANY PRETTY BOY PRIVILEGES!! (and he'll get flustered it's the cutest) revoke them THIS instant!!

his favourite type of kisses are the ones where you'll push his hair back and give him a forehead kiss. he'll take you in by the waist and keep you close, he likes to listen to your heart because you have his. when he feels clingy, he'll nuzzle his head into your shoulder. what a dork

will attempt to find you at his games pre and post timeskip. before the game he will try to make it not look frantic but one of his members eventually catch on 😞

rintarou suna ; SLOW DANCING IN THE DARK - joji

camera roll is either 0.5's of the most jaw dropping, majestical sunsets and sunrises that he's experienced with you or literally anytime the sky is feeling a little different (if he's not with you at the time he WILL send them to you at either 5am or 7pm saying it reminded him of you) or the CRAZIEST 0.5's of you losing sanity or of you off guard. its wild blackmail material but he chooses not to LMAO. (because of the love in his heart, he says)

has a little photo album for you and anything you related!! he also takes the best candid photos of you and post them on close friends!! (´∀｀)

no. #1 victim of couple tiktok trends. pretends and looks like he doesn't like it, but doesn't want it to end. once you press post he will stare you down with his beautiful ahh olive hazel eyes (he wants more)

last one on the social med side, he mentions you in posts with your initials all the FLIPPIN' TIME!! his dedication is quite endearing

on days where everything becomes overstimulating, he will notice. will eye you for a while, but once he knows when it gets to a certain extent he will hand you an earphone.

anyone who says suna is an arctic monkey's listener is a LIAR I SAID IT I SAID IT!!!!! *more gunshots* JOKES he probably has a couple of their songs in his playlist, but i personally think he's more tyler the creator coded. people who get it get it (avril lavigne sk8r boi? keshi beside you? definitely)

hot adams apple

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu drabble #akaashi x reader #kenma x reader #kita x reader #semi x reader #kageyama x reader #suna x reader

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strang3lov3 · 11 months

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Tis’ But a Scratch

Kinda brat tamer/dom! Joel x stubborn fem Reader

Summary: when you’re injured and refuse to accept Joel’s help, he decides to adjust your attitude.

W/C: 4.3k

Warnings: brat tamer joel kinda, dom!joel, smut, rough sex, blowjobs, orgasm denial. Slight dubcon. Degradation. A little bit of fluff, implied age gap, spanking, cream pie, a bit of come play. Descriptions of injuries, but not too bad! I’m super squeamish and was able to stomach it for the most part.

A/N: based on this request by @speckledemerald ! I had a lot of fun with it and did not expect it to take this turn, but you guys know me well enough to know I’m a sucker for some rough Joel smut!

Master list

As always, comments and reblogs are very appreciated. If you like this story, let me know! I am thankful for each and every one of you who support my work ❤️

The slam of the kitchen door behind you makes you jump, you feel your blood running cold. Joel’s an angry guy, but you’ve never been directly on the receiving end of his anger. At least, not this much anger. He is fucking pissed.

“Coulda’ gotten us fuckin’ killed. You realize that, right?” Joel spits out at you, chucking his backpack on the kitchen island sharply. You startle at the sound. His eyes are piercing and full of anger when you look at him. Hatred, even. You feel your heart drop to your stomach, fearful and full of guilt. “You never watch your fuckin’ back. Always dawdling or somethin’ else. You don’t take anything seriously, do you?”

He’s right. You know he is. “We’re fine, though. I was handling it,” You don’t know if your words are meant to be a comfort to him or yourself.

You and Joel were in an old store on patrol together, going through it to see what supplies you could scrounge up. Joel was constantly scolding you for not keeping up with him, not watching your back at all. He was sick of babysitting you, he told you. Too old for it, he said. You rolled your eyes every time he complained.

So yeah, handling it. That’s what you’re sticking with. When a raider snuck up behind you and your back was pinned to him in a bone crushing embrace, his knife pressed into your side. And all you could do was kick and scream for Joel and thrash your body. Handling it.

“Yeah?” he asks you, his tone sarcastic and full of venom. “Had it all under control, is that right?” Joel is pacing around the house, making sure there’s no other raiders or clickers. This is a known safe house, far away from any civilization.

You and Joel spent plenty of time here together, often playing cards or just talking. The last time you were holed up here together, he watched you closely. The way your eyes traced his face, how they traced every line and curve of his muscled body. You thought you hid your desire, but Joel knew better. He knew just how you craved him.

“Yeah, that’s right,” you spit back, enunciating your words harshly. You’re lying, you know it and so does Joel. The truth is, if Joel hadn’t shot the raider in the head and dragged you out of there, you don’t know if you’d be alive to be having this argument right now. But you’ll never tell Joel that.

“If that were true, you wouldn’t be bleedin’ a goddamn river into the fuckin’ floor right now,”

Your brows furrow. “What are you–” you trail off, eyes darting to your side. You didn’t think the raider actually stabbed you. You lift your shirt, and nothing. But then it catches your eye.

The adrenaline must have kept you from realizing what happened to you. The raider managed to knife the top of your left thigh pretty good, a long cut all the way across. You couldn’t tell how deep it went or what. “Fuck,” you mumble.

“Blood everywhere. You know, that’s pretty fuckin’ close to your artery, genius,”

Don’t remind me, you think. Blood was never your strong suit. You press your hand into your thigh, your eyes flutter shut and your breaths become shallow when you see the liquid crimson painting your palm. Quickly, you walk to the couch in the living room and sit down with your head between your knees. You’re getting dizzy. “Just a scratch,” you mumble, to him or yourself, you don’t know.

“Get back here,” Joel barks at you. “You’re hurt. And I ain’t finished with you.”

You really don’t need Joel punishing you more than you’re already doing to yourself. You can’t take any more of his disappointed and angry looks. Any more of his words that cut so deep inside of your body.

“Fuck off,” you whisper, trying to compose yourself. Your vision is going spotty as you unbutton your jeans and push them down your legs, wincing as the rough fabric brushes over your wound. Your head is getting fuzzier, and Joel’s shouting something about other raiders being there at the store but you can barely understand him. He sounds miles away and underwater.

Joel follows you into the living room, reaching for your leg once he meets you at the dingy old sofa. It’s a dusty rose color with yellow and blue flowers. You kick his hand away and grit your teeth at the action. It fucking hurts. “Leave me alone, Joel. I’m fine,” your voice is weak and your eyes are getting glassy. Your lips lose their color. “I’m sorry. I don’t wanna talk about this right now.” you pant.

“Oh, shit,” Joel whispers in realization, watching you lose yourself. He’s seen it all before. “You’re faintin’ again.”

Again.

You really didn’t handle blood well.

Once, Joel accidentally sliced his hand open trying to open an old can of fruit. You watched the entire thing and fainted right in front of him, ended up falling flat on your face. You have a scar on your chin from that night, now.

He spent the evening trying to bring you back to earth, feeding you the old fruit to get your blood sugar back up. Grumbling something about how you need to get it together if you’re gonna continue to be his patrol partner.

“No, I’m not,” your voice is barely above a whisper. You can’t admit defeat, admit that you should have been more conscious of your surroundings back at that old store, or else you wouldn’t be moments away from unconsciousness right now. You absolutely cannot let Joel win.

Joel lets out a deep sigh and crouches in front of you, trying to remove your hand from your thigh. You fight him, still. He can’t wrap his head around why you’re being so. Fucking. Stubborn.

“Stop it, Joel. I can take care of myself,”

Joel just grabs your wrist again, moving it away. You don’t have the energy to fight him off this time. “Let me see,” he mumbles. He takes in your injury, then leaves to grab his backpack. Once he’s situated, he begins his work. “Don’t need to be so proud. You’re hurt.”

He begins by pulling out a bottle of alcohol. You reach forward to take it from him, do it yourself. Deny him the satisfaction of picking up the pieces of the mess you’ve made of yourself, yet again.

He glares at you. “Knock it off,” he says gruffly. But you don’t, you just wiggle and avoid his touch. Pull away from him and push into his stomach with your foot. “Quit your squirmin’, for fuck’s sake. Too goddamn stubborn, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart.

Your cheeks go red at the pet name, your squirming comes to a halt. Joel takes notice of the effect his words have on you. “So that’s what it takes to get you to behave, hm? Call you sweetheart?”

He’s testing the waters…curious.

“No,” you lie. Yes.

There is an immediate change in the room, a tension between you and Joel in the atmosphere. It’s palpable, like you could reach out and grab it. Feel it between your fingers, even. Hot and heavy and impossible to ignore.

Joel reaches forward, covering your eyes with his hand. “Keep those eyes closed f’me, sweetheart. Don’t look. That’s it, now,” He removes his hand and your eyes are still closed, you know better than to look at the gore of your injured thigh. He continues, “Need to pull these pants down some more, alright?” You nod lazily in response, he pulls your pants down your legs and nudges your thighs apart. The cut goes further inward than either of you realized.

Joel gets to work then, dumping a bit of the alcohol over your wound. You groan and cry at the pain. It brings you back from your state of near-unconsciousness. “Fuck, Joel,”

He tries to ignore the little moans and fuck, Joel’s you let out as he disinfects your cut. “I know, I know,” he croons at you. “It’ll be over soon. Promise.”

He reaches for a rag and dumps some of his canteen’s water on it, then gently scrubs away the blood. He starts on the outside of your thigh and washes the blood off of your skin.

And then it happens. White-hot sparks of electricity deep in your core.

He reaches the inside of your thigh and accidentally brushes your center, covered only by the thin cotton of your panties. You let out a gasp in response.

“Sorry,” Joel mumbles. “Your wound is real close to yourself there. Might happen again.”

“No, it’s okay. I trust you,” you reply. And you do, but a part of you is hoping he touches you again.

“Doin’ so good f’me,” he mumbles, and his words have an intoxicating effect on you. Does he know what he’s doing to you? How he’s making you fall to pieces?

It does happen again. And again. And each time, you let out little gasps and moans. You almost wonder if he’s doing it on purpose, but you don’t mind. You wonder if he knows how aroused you’re getting with every brush of his fingertips.

He works for a while longer, then wraps up your wound with gauze. “All better now, sweetheart. I was feelin’ nice for some reason and didn’t torture ya with stitches, but I’ll check on it later and we might need to do some. Depends on how it’s holdin’ up, but I’ll be gentle if it comes to that,” He says softly, apologetically. His words are his olive branch extended to you, his apology for being too harsh with you in your injured state.

“Oh, how kind,” you bite back. And just like that, your feistiness has returned, you’re right back to being your stubborn and sarcastic self just like before. And you don’t really know why you build your walls back up, but you do. You’re not gonna take any pity from him. His words echo in your mind. Too proud. “I would’ve been fine without all your help, you know. And I won’t need any when we get back, so drop it.”

Joel’s soft gaze leaves and is replaced by another fiery look of offense. “Oh, fuck you. Jesus, would it kill you to say thanks?”

“Fuck you!” you spit. Joel blinks when your saliva hits his face, he wipes it from his cheek, then examines it on his palm. Slowly, he meets your eyes, his gaze dark and lustful. The tension in the air strengthens, you feel your heart begin to beat rapidly. You didn’t mean to spit on him, but you’re gonna stand your ground and not take any of his shit.

Joel rises to his feet, so big and radiating power and masculinity above you. “You wanna try that again?” he asks, his voice is low and dark, lacking any semblance of amusement.

“I, fu-” you stutter out. Your confidence is beginning to dwindle as you choke out, “Don’t need your fucking help. Don’t need to be a part of your fucking savior complex.”

Joel laughs dryly. You’ve really pissed him off now, you can see the pure hatred in his eyes. They’re icy cold, piercing right through you. “You’d better swallow your pride before I shove it down your throat myself, sweetheart. Sick of this attitude, you fuckin’ brat,”

“Make me,” you retort, challenging him. “How’re you gonna do that?”

You wonder just how far he’ll push you. What boundaries he’s gonna test…

“I don’t think you wanna find out, sweetheart. Not gonna be nice about it, I promise you that,”

“Big surprise,” you snarl, “There’s not one nice bone in your body. You’re a fucking ass–”

“Gonna start by fuckin’ that pretty mouth of yours, teach you a lesson,” he interrupts you. His voice is cool and collected, you watch his hands make their way to his front, he palms his growing erection. He eyes you questioningly for a moment, using them to ask you sincerely if this is okay. If it’s too much. You nod, understanding his silent question. He nods back.

You open your mouth to speak, but Joel wastes no time shutting you up. “You suck my dick like a good girl, and maybe I’ll consider makin’ you come. But I’m not feelin’ very generous yet,”

“What are you talking–” you trail off, watching Joel unbuckle his belt with his swift and deftly moving hands.

“You’re drippin’ for me, darlin’. Didn’t think I noticed? Could practically taste it,”

Your body betrays you and you let out a whimper at the thought of Joel’s tongue in your pussy. How he’d explore your folds with the firm and wet muscle. Joel chuckles in amusement, freeing his cock from the constraint of his jeans. He takes one imposing step in front of you, his thick and hard cock is held loosely between his thumb and his pointer and middle fingers.

“Not so tough now, hm? Not when your pleasure’s on the table, I see. Selfish fuckin’ brat,”

“Joel,” you moan. He shuts you up by shoving his cock in your mouth in one swift motion, your lips part around the soft and smooth flesh of his tip. He’s slow at first, making sure you can take it. When he’s satisfied with your readiness, he shoves it as far down your throat as you can comfortably take.

“Fuck, that’s all you needed. God, sweetheart. You’re so much nicer with my cock in your mouth, you know that?” he groans, his hands finding your scalp. He tangles his fingers through your hair and pulls gently, when you moan he tugs your hair roughly.

You hum in response, wrapping your hands around his upper thighs and squeezing his ass. He pushes them away with force. “You just don’t get it do you, you poor dumb thing? You take what I give you now, girl. Don’t be greedy,”

His words send pangs of desire through your body, you’ve never been so aroused in your life. His cock is hard and heavy on your tongue, and with each powerful thrust of his hips your nose nudges that tuft of dark hair surrounding his member.

“Fuck,” he hisses through gritted teeth. Your eyes are blown wide, tears pricking the corners. There’s spit dribbling down your chin and you look completely fucking ruined.

The dull ache between your thighs grows stronger, and ever so subtly move your hand to your center. Or so you think. Just before you can press your fingers to your clit, Joel pulls his dick from your mouth and grabs your wrist in a vice grip.

“God, you just don’t fucking learn, do you? I told you to suck my dick like a good girl,”

“I did, Joel,” you whine in protest. You move your other hand to your center in hopes of relieving the pressure, but he grabs that one too.

“God, you’re dumb. No, you didn’t. You didn’t listen, didn’t take what I was givin’,” he yanks you up by your wrists, drags you to the arm of the couch and shoves you. Hard. “So I’m gonna take what I want from ya now. And you can cry and beg as much as you want, and I still won’t let you come. ‘Cause you can’t follow simple directions.”

Your stomach drops, you realize just how serious he is. He’s gonna use you and toss you aside, leave you crying for release. “Joel,” you cry. He’s breaking you down.

“No point in cryin’ now. Just shut your mouth like a good girl and take my cock,”

You move to face him, but he turns you back in place. “Bend over,” he demands.

When you don’t jump at his command, he shoves you again, forcing your chest down into the arm of the couch. He roughly tugs down the fabric of your panties, and then you feel the sting of his big hand striking your ass, red hot pain spreading over your cheeks. “Fuck,” you yelp in a mixture of pleasure and pain.

“Shut up,” he tells you sternly, massaging the stinging flesh of your ass. It’s a gentle reminder he’s still here. “God, you’re stupid. Poor thing. How many times do I have to tell you to be quiet?”

You let out a moan in protest and he smacks your ass again. “Spread your legs. No back talking, now. Be a good girl and open wide for me. That’s it,” he croons as you shuffle your feet apart.

He drags his cock through your folds, purposely stopping just before your clit, denying you any sort of relief. He slips the tip of his cock in your pussy, then without warning, pulls you onto his cock. Hard.

You cry out and he shushes you, reminding you to keep quiet. He repeats the motion again and you bite your lip to keep your noises suppressed.

He fucks you with both hands on your waist, fingertips digging into your skin, surely decorating you with bruises. The room is filled with the noises of his heavy breathing and skin slapping skin, as well as the wet squelching of your pussy.

“Fu-” you start, moving a hand to cover your mouth.

“That’s it,” he breathes in approval. “Quiet.”

You bite back moans, feeling your stomach tighten. You’re getting close, just need a bit more.

His cock begins to pulse inside of you, his once calculated thrusts now sloppy and frenzied. “Feel that?” He asks. “Gettin’ close, now. Almost over, sweetheart. See what this pussy’s doin’ to me?”

You can’t help the wail that falls from your lips. You’re in agony, you need to come. And after this, you don’t know if you’ll be able to relieve yourself. Your fingers will never compare to his cock, you’ll never be able to match the pace or power with which he fucks you.

“S’matter, sweetheart?” He taunts you. “Breakin’ the rules again, you know. Do I need to remind you how good girls act?” He rubs a hand over your ass in warning, tapping his fingers on the swollen and still stinging flesh.

You shake your head no. It’s painful, the way he’s punching into that sweet spot deep inside you. So close yet so far from your orgasm.

“Fuck, sweetheart. I want you to nod your head yes or shake your head no, got it? Still don’t want you makin’ any noise,”

You nod in anticipation of what he’s going to ask of you. He’s still fucking you at a punishing pace.

“Been thinkin’ that you’d look real pretty comin’ all over my cock. Don’t you think?”

You nod again.

“Unfortunately, baby, you’re not allowed to. Which is a goddamn shame, of course,” he mumbles, his thrusts coming to a slowed pace.

He continues, “I was thinking if you said the magic words, I might make it all better for you,”

You whimper at the prospect of release, then quickly swallow your moans.

“You know those words, right baby? Please, thank you. Manners,”

You nod again, pushing your ass back into his groin. He swats at you with his hand, but not terribly hard. Just a gentle warning.

“Maybe all of this could have been avoided if you said ‘thank you Joel’. Maybe then you wouldn’t be in this position, practically beggin’ me to let you come,”

You nod in response, not willing to argue any longer. “Say thank you for my cock down your throat. Did you a favor, anyway. God knows you needed to shut up,”

“Joel, fuck. I need to come,” you rasp out, breaking his rule.

“Say thank you, sweetheart. Come on now, mind your manners,” God, how sexy and low his voice is.

You don’t thank him. Not yet. You won’t thank him, not until he breaks down every ounce of fight left in you.

He slaps your ass once more, then moves his hand to your clit, gingerly rubbing light circles into the sensitive bud. Teasing you. “Thank you, Joel,” he instructs you to say. “Thank you for your cock.”

You ignore him still.

He pulls you off his cock, whips you around to face him and looks deep into your eyes, notching the tip of his cock in your pussy once more. He begins pushing all the way in. “Say it.” He says in a taunting tone, elongating his words. His thumb is on your clit again, and he’s thrusting in and out of you slowly. “I’m givin’ you an out here. Just say those words f’me.”

You groan in frustration. Are you really going to give in?

“Come on, sweetheart. Know you need it. Look at the fucking mess you’re makin’, needy thing. Soakin’ my cock,”

And there it is again, that sickeningly sweet pet name he so affectionately calls you. Fuck it, you decide.

“Thank you,” you whisper, finally. Repeating what he wanted to hear you say for him.

“For what?”

The words kind of just slip out of your mouth, “For taking care of me,” you admit.

Joel’s movements falter, and he looks at you with a puzzled expression. It’s not at all what he thought you were going to say, what he wanted you to say, but nonetheless he’s pleased that he’s managed to fuck away some of your pride. He just smirks knowingly, pulls you in close and kisses you.

It’s sweet and slow, he’s taking his time massaging your tongue with his own. “Good girl. Good fucking girl,” he murmurs against your lips, fucking you again. He’s rubbing concentrated circles into your clit and continues. “Not so hard, hm? Just listen to me and let me take care of ya. However I want.”

You nod feverishly and pull yourself closer to him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. His skin is hot and sweaty under your fingertips, the circles he’s tracing into your clit have your stomach tightening and your face contouring in pleasure. You’re right there, he can feel it. He’s not far behind.

“You earned it, baby. Let go now,” he whispers, hot breath tickling your ear.

And with that, you come harder than you ever have. His ministrations on your clit don’t stop, he keeps fucking you through it. “Joel,” you moan. “Oh, fuck. I’m there, I’m there.”

“I know you are, sweetheart. Ride it out with me. I’m right there with ya,” he assures you, his thrusts becoming frenzied as he chases his own orgasm. His neck and cheeks are flushed red, and in mere moments, he’s pulsing inside you, spurting hot and thick ropes of his seed that paint your insides. It’s a delicious feeling, one you’ve been craving for a while now.

He’s panting on top of you, his forehead pressed to your own, slick with sweat and sticky hair. You’re still holding onto him for dear life, catching your breath. He pulls out of you slowly, watching the mixture of your come drip on to the rosy couch. He pushes it back inside your worn pussy with his fingers, then brings them to his lips and licks them clean.

You giggle, your head dropping to his shoulder. He holds you like that for a moment, letting you steady yourself.

“I hope that wasn’t too much,” he speaks softly. “Didn’t mean to get out of hand. You okay? How’s your thigh?” His voice is full of concern, his hands on either side of your face. His eyes are sparkly and the darkest brown, the crease between his brows a little more prominent than usual. “Was I too rough? Did I hurt you?”

“No, you didn’t hurt me. I liked it,” you admit sheepishly, assuring him that everything is okay. You’re slightly embarrassed. Who knew you were such a freak? “My thigh is…I’m fine, I promise. It’s just a scratch.”

He says your name sternly, shooting you a warning look. “Let me see it. Can’t trust you,”

“Fine,” you concede, biting back a grin. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t flattered by his concern, the way he’s fawning over you.

He bends down in front of you, gently pulling back the gauze. Your wound is a little irritated in the rigorous fucking you and Joel participated in, but was mostly okay. He decides to clean it and wrap it again in new gauze, telling you he’s not wanting to risk infection. “So,” he starts undressing your wound. “Gonna listen to me from now on, right?

You nod your head. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, voice barely audible. “I didn’t mean to-”

He cuts you off, “I know you didn’t. Just need you to be careful, okay? Need you to listen to me. I’m lookin’ out for you, sweetheart,”

You wince in pain when he dumps more alcohol on your wound. “I just…I can take care of myself, you know?”

“I know you can. I know,” he says. Part of him wants to argue more, but he doesn’t. Instead, he silently works, wondering why you buck him on this, why you refuse to ask for help or admit you may need it. Whether it be on patrol or when you’re hurt, or fainting in front of him because you can’t handle a bit of blood. Thank god you’re never on nursing duty at the infirmary. He won’t press you anymore, though.

You share a moment of silence together, both unsure of what to say. What does this mean for your relationship in the future? Joel finishes wrapping your wound, and helps you stand up on shaky legs. He dresses himself, then tosses you your clothing. When he reaches for your pants, his hand falls through the massive hole on the thigh from where the raider knifed you

“Just a scratch, my ass” he mumbles, you hear the smirk in his voice. “Just a flesh wound, right?”

You smile as he tosses you the tattered jeans. “Yup. Just a flesh wound,” you say as you dress yourself again.

Joel leads you to the door, silently letting you know it’s time to get back to Jackson.

“You don’t even understand that reference,” he grumbles, shaking his head. “Jesus, kid.”

@swiftispunk @rosaliedepp @pedrotonin @kittenlittle24 @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @brittmb115 @bigboiseason123 @laysmt @guiltgoreglory @aubreysylvain @leeeesahhh @harriedandharassed @southernbe @ravenouswild @luvrking @r02eg0ld @amythenortherner @walkintheprk @zpandaqueen @silkiers @angel-with-a-heart @kdogreads @boofy1998 @theoremrobin @2valentines @happy--birthday--kiddo @elissaaa @paleidiot @brie-annwyl @str84pedro @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @kyloispunk @tiredbuthappy @yuk-for-president @nopealoupe @blackvelveteen1339 @monboudoir @darleneslane @bbyanarchist @spideysimpossiblegirl

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mitsies · 7 months

Text

❊ miss americana & the heartbreak prince - itoshi sae . . from one formal to the next, everything works out one way or another

your first junior high dance is in the company of your best friend, itoshi sae.

you had to try hard to convince him to go. really, really try to convince him. and you had to get his mom in on it, too, that's how hard you had to try. he was content to stay at home in those stupid little red basketball shorts that he either 1), never washed or 2), had 7 pairs of, binging sports highlights and discussing things you don't care all that much about on the couch.

but this night was special, you'd insisted. it was the very first dance of the very first year as official junior high students. you were both 11, practically ancient, and how boring would it be to stay home when there were adventures to be had? and besides, you had a plan. tonight, you were going to tell your best friend since diapers that you had a super-uber-mega crush on him, and maybe give him a hug after (if you were feeling bold.)

you have it all planned out. after finally managing to convince him to come to the dance with you, you'll steal him away from your friend group and take him to the hallway next to your maths class, where no one ever goes. and then, you'd tell him about how mieko told you that mai told her that akane told her that keiko told her that she thinks he likes you back, and then you'd ask if it was true. and then he'd say, 'oh my gosh, yes, i love you,' and then high-five you, and then you'd be boyfriend and girlfriend. because that's how it works, right?

well, you made it halfway-ish. and to say that is just to say you managed to force him to the dance and sneak him off into the side hallway. oh, he looks cute. he's shorter than you but that's fine because he'll get taller before you guys get married. and his hair is gel-slicked and looks kind of silly, and you know it's his mom's doing. his suit is frumpy and ill-fitting and he's wearing cleats instead of dress shoes because that's just how junior high boys are.

he's been grumpy all day, as per usual. but you keep catching him staring at you. and he keeps doing that little tiny smile-ish thing that he does, where he smiles a little but not a lot so he just looks constipated instead. and oh, you're in bad luck, because as soon as you're in that maths hallway and the music from the dance goes muffled and it's just him, and it's just you, you seem to forget everything you've planned to say.

"what did you want to tell me?" uh-oh. uh-oh, this is bad. oh, it's so bad. your best friend since diapers, your future husband, the one person you could never get sick of, was going to think you were an absolute idiot. how embarrassing! how embarrassing, oh no.

"uh," you can't meet his eyes, and choose to fiddle with your fingers instead, pulling at your sloppily painted nails (green to match his eyes, like asami had insisted), "well— um, i actually— i just— to.. um."

wow, this was lame. you're 11 now, where is your class? where is your wisdom? oh, how humiliating. "i just—"

"you like me."

you pause. you stare. he stares back, and his expression goes from that same old neutral to that silly little stupid kinda-smile. and then, panic sets in.

"oh, haha! i do? who told you that? who? no seriously, who? or, or, what made you think that? why do you think that? i— i don't like— or, well, i don't not— no, stop, stop, actually. who told you? was it akane? oh, i knew akane was a snitch! ignore her. ignore this. i mean, unless you— but. hey, it's—"

"so you do, or don't?"

this was sae. this was itoshi sae, and this was how he's always been. no-nonsense, straight-froward, abrasive, blunt. all hard around the edges but so, so soft at the center like those really good cookies they sell at the cafeteria. only for you, usually, and his baby brother, and that was pretty much is.

sometimes you forget just how much you like him. it's a lot, you like him a lot. so, so much. he's the same boy who meets you on the side of the curb when you call him crying from the home phone, because your parents are angry again. he's the boy who will spend forever with you working on your maths homework when you're having a hard time understanding. he's the boy who will split a cafe cookie with you after he sees you in the stands of one of his games. oh, he's that boy. he's the boy you super-mega-ultra liked, and maybe-kinda-sorta loved a little teensy tiny bit. you exhale.

"i do."

your voice is small. your hands twist together anxiously and you can't do anything but stare at the floor. and in your peripheral vision, you see little red cleats take a hesitant step closer, and closer, and then— a hand lands on top of yours.

oh, it's sae's. oh, he's holding your hand.

well, not really. but it's close enough, and you look up and his cheeks are rosy and he looks like an angel, oh lord, he's so cute you might be sick. all he says is, "good. me too, or something."

the very first middle school dance of the year is where itoshi sae stops being just your best friend, and becomes your boyfriend. and that word changes meaning over time— years go by. somewhere in that mess, there's a tentative kiss, and a whole lot of 'i love you's' and a dozen more firsts, all with each other, all with a world of love. awkward pre-teens go to teenagers. how lucky you are, that mieko told you that mai told her that akane told her that keiko told her that she thinks he likes you back. because she was right after all.

it's your boyfriend who asks you to prom. and you’re mad at him, but you say yes anyways.

it’s the first time you’ve seen him in weeks. prom night is the same night he flies back in from spain for the holidays, and coincidentally, the first time he’s talked to you for more than 20 minutes. you pick him up from the airport in your dress, and he’s in his suit. you’ve already missed your dinner reservations— you’re trying not to care. but this was your senior year. and you were so, so excited. the restaurant was his favourite kind of food, and it was in an aquarium, and reservations were hard to get, and he had caused you to miss them because his flight was delayed.

you know it's selfish. you know, because how could you not know? how was it his fault that the weather in spain was so poor that he was forced to wait at the airport longer than expected? how was it his fault that it just so happened to rain? but the evil, burning, and bitter side of your heart replies: it's his fault he was gone in the first place. it's his fault he was in spain and not by your side, to begin with.

normal 18-year-old couples don't have to take a 16-hour flight just to see each other, your anger says. and you know it's right.

when itoshi sae, at 13, told you he was going to be a star, you hardly believed him. actually, you recall your own incredulous laugh, and that cute way the space at the corner of his eyes wrinkle when he's annoyed. you didn't believe him, but then less than a year later he was gone to spain hellbent on becoming the best.

he used to call you every night for hours. as often as he could, he'd call or text. and he'd talk to you in the way that he only talked to you. with a softness. with a tender kind of love. the infinite kind. and whenever he got the chance to fly back, he would, to spend time with you and rin and his parents, but mostly you (as he'd tell you after he made you swear not to snitch). he used to love you, and act like it.

but as years blurred past, and he got taller (not by much) and you both grew older (not by a lot), things shifted. changed. spun in a circle and landed facing the opposite direction. he called you less. sometimes, when you called him, he'd not pick up even though you knew he was free. and he visited less, and he stopped talking to rin but wouldn't say why. sometimes when you'd visit his mother, you'd see rin stealing glances at you from the curves and corners of the house. he stopped saying hi to you a while ago, too.

you drive to your senior prom in near silence. there's some music playing on the radio— nothing either of you had put on, just the default top hits of 2017— and no one says anything and you think that might be better. because you're thinking about the way he used to buy him and his little brother ice cream on really hot days with his very own pocket money, and you think if you hear his voice you might start ugly crying and ruin your makeup. and then you think about how it's your senior prom, and you're about to cry, and your boyfriend can't even look at you, and oh, you're holding back tears all over again.

the first thing he says to you that night is, "i was about to do that," when you open the car door by yourself. you are so, so angry. but you just smile like you're not, because it's not his fault you resent his leaving. it's not his fault you miss his mom and brother but can't visit anymore without it being awkward. it's not his fault he's gone, and it's not his fault he acts like he hates you. it's not his fault but you despise him so, so much.

he puts a hand on your waist as he walks you towards the venue— some stupid country club kind of thing, you didn't care enough to read anything but the address. his touch feels wrong— it didn't always. but these hands are rough, and you don't recognise them. you stop walking.

all around you, everyone keeps moving. there are girls in frills and pretty, glittery, long dresses. suits and ties, and the smell of cologne, and the floral perfume. it's dark out, now. and the people aren't walking into the building— they're leaving. you catch someone's watch out of the corner of your eye. you've missed your senior prom.

"what's wrong?" sae's voice hardly registers. you feel the tears fall.

"we missed it."

"hm?"

you turn to him. he looks like he couldn't care less. and you abhor him.

"we missed the dance."

sae blinks. his eyes are blank— maybe they've always been. maybe when you were 11, you were too dumb to see. maybe he's always hated you, you think, because he replies, "oh. back to the car?"

and you're really crying now, because he doesn't even care.

you can't manage words, not until he speaks for you. "don't cry. it was just some stupid school dance."

you wonder what this looks like to people. a boy, looking like he couldn't care less. and you, makeup streaked with tears, like your world just collapsed.

"did you really care that much?"

"did i care?" your voice comes out mangled, "did i care?"

he looks startled at your reaction, the most emotion he's shown tonight. you continue:

"of course i cared that much. of course i did. because how long ago was our last date? the last time we did anything together? the last time you could look me in the eyes? of course i care. not about this stupid dance," you're out of breath, but you continue, "i care about you. you, i care about you."

he looks the same amount of placid, and the same amount of blank. and you'd cry harder if it didn't hurt so bad. he says nothing so all there's left to ask is, "but do you even care about me? do you care anymore?"

his face betrays nothing. and you're taken back to juvenile days, and ice cream and sun, and soccer practice after school, and annoying little brothers and love notes in lockers. and you think that this is not the same boy you loved. and you don't know where that boy went, but he's not here, he's not the one standing in front of you staring instead of holding you while you cry.

and he doesn't look the least bit sorry.

you knew the answer to his question before it even came out of your mouth. maybe you've known for years. maybe you just had blind faith in him, and your aquarium-restaurant reservations, and a stupid, cheesy, lame high school dance that you couldn't care less about to prove that there was still a tiny bit of hope. but it'd just shown you that there was nothing left.

you feel like a set of bones beneath a dress. you feel like a ghost in a crowd of people. you feel like a spectacle, you feel insane. you must look it, too. maybe you are. there is a coldness to sae's voice when he finally speaks. a coldness that is new. that you haven't heard before. you're scared.

"are you done yet?"

you're not crying anymore. you're just feeling strange.

you hate how you care about how sae's going to get home when you leave him standing there and walk back to your car. your shoes— bought just for today— tap on the pavement. the shoes and your heartbeat. your car's engine. the doors slamming shut. people laughing outside. the radio's top hits of 2017. that's all you hear, that's all. and when you get home and turn your car off, you sit in the driver's seat and cry.

you can hear all your thoughts. you can hear the ugly desperate cries clawing your throat raw like an animal. mascara-stained teardrops land on your dress and trickle down your chin, and burn your eyes. you don't know when you lost him. was it when he'd first went to spain? was it when he'd first cancelled a visit back, or hung up the phone? or was it before then? has he ever liked you, or did he only hold your hand back at that middle school dance because he felt like he had to? and your tears taste like melted ice cream and memories, or maybe you're just crazy.

you loved him. did he ever love you?

angry tears. sad ones, too. your hands need to destroy something so they pull and clench and squeeze your legs through the fabric of your dress as you dry-heave. the ache is not empty. it hurts, it burns. your lungs burn. your heart is heavy and hot and disgusting. how you feel is wrong. everything feels wrong.

everything feels wrong, and now you're single on prom night.

what's even left for you, now?

being 21 is weird.

you're all grown up, now. you've got friends, and you have just recently landed a job at a big journalism company while you wrap up university. and today's your first day going out to a company event instead of sitting at a desk all day, and you're so excited.

the event is some kind of gala. you've been told it's to celebrate the opening of a new sports thing that your employers have invested in that you don't really know too much about. and it's not quite your specialty but you'd never miss out on an opportunity to dress up and get a free fancy dinner as a representative for your company, who were big investors. you wonder who'll be there. who are some sports people? actually, what kind of a stadium was this? a baseball field? is that even a stadium?

why were you even invited? you don't have the slightest clue about this investment. but that doesn't matter, because you're there now, stepping out of your company car in a pretty dress that you'd chosen for yourself. you wonder when the last time you've been this dressed up was. maybe your cousin's wedding, when you were 17? or, you think with a twinge of something bitter in your chest, was it your senior prom at 18?

whatever. it doesn't matter. you don't care about that anymore— it was only the night your boyfriend of 7 years essentially told you he didn't love you anymore. no big deal. you were 21 now, and you could do cool things and work, and stuff. how cool is that? how cool are you? too cool to be still caring about your ex-boyfriend. your very handsome, attractive, professional football player ex-boyfriend, who was on the cover of every sports magazine, and the headline of every news channel. you wonder, as you walk in, how many of the people under the roof of the venue know his name. how many who'd probably kill for a signature. you wonder what they'd think if they knew you used to be the one to love him.

pause. why were you thinking about this? you don't care, you definitely don't. you're done caring when he's probably already forgotten your name. god, you're supposed to be 21. you're 21, and you still feel like you're 18. you're 21, and you still feel like you're 11. at what point are you meant to grow up and get over it all?

you shake your head and your older colleague ms. sato gives you an amused look. "something wrong, dear?"

"nothing," you smile at her awkwardly, "just a little nervous. i've never been out on a company event before. who else is going to be here?"

ms. sato tsks and thrums her fingers against the wrinkled skin of her other hand. she's wearing a conservative green velvet dress. you think she looks pretty. "i think more sponsors will be there. and i'm sure they've got some sports folk, too."

you purse your lips. the venue is big, and ornate, you see as you open the door for ms. sato and walk in behind her. red and gold walls, chandeliers, a regal display of wealth that you most definitely could not live up to if you were here on your own dime. and the dining hall is no different. tables with nameplates written in some fancy scrawl that you can barely read spell out your name and ms. sato's name across from each other towards the front of the hall. out of curiosity, your eyes flicker to the seat to your right.

and your heart stops in its chest.

in that same hardly legible font, reads a name that is all too familiar. it's nearly the same as the name you'd scrawled on love letters in junior high, and nearly the same name as the contact you used to text every single day and every night. it's nearly the same name you'd call out at airports, looking, always looking, forever longing to be around him. the name on the nameplate reads 'itoshi rin.'

"are you sure nothing's wrong? you look pale." ms. sato's voice cuts through your thoughts, you clear your throat. "of course. it's nothing, ms. sato."

you pull her chair out for her before taking a seat in your own, as the room starts filling in and someone says something about a prepared meal being served at 8 on the dot, and announcements starting soon after that. you feel frozen in your seat as you fidget with your hands in your lap. you're paralysed with fear, too scared to check if the name next to rin's is sae's. it couldn't be, right? because they fell out. just like you and sae fell out. they wouldn't attend the same event. plus, sae's always thought that events were boring. fancy dances, fancy dinners, they were all the same— all wastes of time. he wouldn't be here.

it hits 8. you think you could maybe handle rin— but he doesn't show. dinner is served, and the two seats to your right remain empty. and you are so, so relieved internally because who are you kidding, you couldn't deal with rin, let alone sae.

you see his face everywhere, and that's enough. magazines, underwear ads, video edits, all of it. his fans are everywhere. like he's some kind of hero, and you guess he is when it comes to football. you wonder who he's kissed since you. unless what was a weird thing to think about your exes. in that case, you don't wonder that at all. and you never have, not for a second.

it's 8:05. still, no one has shown. at 8:10, the owners of the stadium give some speech about investments, and blah blah blah, are you meant to know or care about any of this? because you don't know, and you don't really care. you're much too focused on the food, and the stress, and all that. 8:20, speech is over. 8:30, people start socialising. 8:35, drinks are brought out with a second course. 8:40, with a little champagne in your system, you're feeling pretty good, actually. less nervous, for sure. if rin hasn't shown yet, he isn't going to. and sae? that was basically fully off the table now.

8:45. you feel better than fine, now. 4 champagne flutes down (because ms. sato doesn't drink, but felt bad saying no when they were offered, and she thinks you'd be a funny drunk) and you wonder why you've ever felt nervous in your life, ever. stress was a thing of the past. ms. sato laughs at you when you make a face at something someone annoying and snotty says, and she slaps your back and tells you she's going to the restroom and to make sure you don't die while she's gone.

8:50. the door to the banquet hall must've opened at some point, but you didn't notice until the chair to your right slides out. your heart sinks before you even see him. because itoshi rin, in the flesh, takes the chair next to you.

you haven't seen him in years. not since your 18th birthday, you think— because his mother had made you a cake and forced him to tag along to drop it off for you. he'd told you happy birthday, and you'd teased him about how you remember he used to have big cheesy smiles and bigger cheesier dimples when he was just a little baby, and he'd scowled and told you that he's 15, not some kid. how old was he now? if sae was 21, then rin would be 18. you've seen him places too, on advertisements for some football program, on sellouts for cologne and such. he's made a name for himself. for himself, not his brother and himself. you'd find it in yourself to be proud if you weren't a little drunk and a lot sad.

maybe he catches you staring from the corner of your eye after he sits, because he glances over and does a double take before looking straight ahead like he's in the army and his commanding sergeant's just told him to look alive. you worry at your lip with your teeth. you'll regret this in the morning. "rin? 's that you?"

he stiffens. you try not to giggle, and you think you fail. "yeah."

"i hope this isn't weird. do you remember me?" it's more of a question to yourself than anything. but he answers, because it was said out loud so he probably thought you were talking to him and not to your own brain. hm. maybe you're drunker than you thought.

"yeah." his response is terse and awkward. but then he says your name. and you remember his little voice a hundred times higher, and you remember tears in his big toddler eyes webbing his lashes as he cried your name about a scraped knee. you soften. "i've missed seeing you. how've you been?"

he looks nervous. does he look nervous? or do you just think he looks nervous? he opens his mouth, then closes it, then replies, "good. i didn't know you'd be here."

you smile amicably. oh, you love this boy, love him like he's your sweet little brother even now. "i'm representing my company. they— or, we— are investors. i'm here as my mentor's rubbish bin for food and drinks she doesn't want, basically."

rin snorts. you want to pinch his cheeks. would he be mad if you did? probably. "well, i—"

the seat next to rin's slides out. another full champagne flute is placed in front of you and instead of thanking the waiter, you feel sick to your stomach. junior high dance sick. senior year prom sick. you're sick.

itoshi sae sits one seat away from you.

you're sick, to your stomach. you're silent and stiff and stupid, so stupid, because you thought you were over him. but this is the first time you've seen him in person since the year 2017, when he flew out to be your date to your school's prom, and then flew away that same night and never came back. you down the champagne and close your eyes. you're 21, not 18, not 11, you're 21.

you're 21 and itoshi sae's still got you acting like a fool.

the rest of the dinner is awkward and silent, at least for you. ms. sato shows up and strikes up a conversation with anyone who would listen, and rin listens, and you can't look at sae so you don't know what he's doing. but you can imagine him sitting there, bored. why was he there? rin and him don't talk anymore. or do they? it's been years, after all. you guess they've made up. your stomach churns. ms. sato notices but doesn't say anything, not until after the dinner ends and you practically race out to the company car without another word to rin, just a quick, tight, smile. over his shoulder, before you leave, you see a mess of reddish-brown hair. you think you might be sick. you hope there are barf bags in the car.

"now, dear, what is wrong with you?" a patent red leather handbag slaps your lower back as you wait outside for the driver to show. ms. sato gives you a look.

you blink a few times. "did you just hit me? that hurt, i think."

"answer the question, child."

you wince. "the boy next to me was like, my, like, brother-in-law but not actually."

ms. sato raises a brow. "itoshi rin? the professional football player?"

you nod fervently. "yes. him."

"so.. you used to date itoshi sae?"

you look at her blankly. "how did you know?"

"they're famous, dear."

"oh," you wrinkle your nose, "right."

ms. sato chuckles. "well, we've got time to talk. tell me the story."

and you tell her. you tell her everything, and a little more. about ice cream, and your 18th birthday cake, and his mom, and his hands, and the way he used to love you and the way he just stopped one day. normally, you wouldn't run your mouth like this, you'd like to think. you're more refined. but the drinks you've had are working hard, and your emotions are working harder, and oh, you're a mess. at least you don't look like one tonight.

ms. sato listens patiently. or maybe she's just doing this to laugh at you about it later. but she listens either way. she smiles at some parts and frowns at others. but when you're done vomiting up all your words and all your feelings, she just sighs. "7 years is a long time."

you blink. "yeah. i guess so, yeah."

"and so is 18."

"excuse me?"

ms. sato chuckles. "you said you've known him since you were babies. it ended when you were 18. you said you loved him until you were 18."

"oh. i did. yeah."

"and 21 years is even longer."

now, you're really confused. "21?"

"21. because you've loved him since you were babies, and it never really ended."

oh. oh, okay. you don't know how you feel, not in the slightest. you're confused and you're nervous, and you shouldn't have eaten all that food because now you might actually throw up instead of just feeling like you're going to throw up.

and then someone calls your name from behind you.

the voice is familiar, and you turn without thinking, of instinct. because you'd always go to him, no matter what. and that scares you, and you're even more scared because you haven't seen eyes that blue in forever.

"sae." you try to keep your voice curt and calm. he's in a suit. it's a good one. tailored. and he still looks young, and handsome, and like your lips would fit perfectly against his, and like your hand could feel right holding his, and all that. and you're so, so scared.

ms. sato excuses herself in the background somewhere, and all this is eerily familiar. people in dresses and suits, leaving. cards driving away. your heartbeat in your ears. it's all familiar.

he takes a step closer. you take one back. he stops, stares, and says, "how've you been?"

you know him well. you know this man far, far too well. you recognise the clench of his jaw and the set of his brows. something like determination paints his face. you'd be more confused if you weren't so nauseous.

"good," you test your voice, continuing when you hear it hold steady, "i'm good. and you?"

he opens his mouth to reply. but you open your mouth again. because you can't seem to do anything but run your mouth today, it seems. "actually, i was hoping you wouldn't be here. really, really hoping. because," you laugh, "i did not want to see you today. or ever again, really."

sae's expression would be unreadable to anyone but you. but you can see it. he's hurt. and you laugh again because god, what does he have to be hurt about? you continue, "i was fine with just seeing the magazines, and ads with you half-naked, and all that. and i was fine with hating you for hating me. but now you're here and it's all different and wrong, and i'm so mad at you right now, and i was fine an hour ago before i even knew you were going to be here. i was so fine."

he blinks. "are you drunk?"

snorting laughter, you turn your head. you can't look at him. you can't tell how you're feeling anymore. "sure i am. the drinks were free."

his eye creases in a tiny smile and you'd swoon if he wasn't the same person who'd broken your heart after he'd held it in the palm of his hand.

you wonder what he's going to say. would he tell you you're being dramatic and making a scene? that one was likely. would he sue you?maybe. maybe he'd kick you. maybe you'd throw up on him. maybe he'd cry. you smile a little— you'd like that, actually. would be funny. you'd enjoy it.

"i'm sorry."

you must be making a face. you must look confused, or disgusted, or disgruntled, because he explains, "for vanishing."

itoshi sae apologising was not on your list of possible responses. you are at a loss for words. but you find them after a beat of silence, "you're sorry?"

he shifts uncomfortably. "i am."

scoffing, you roll your eyes. "funny."

"i'm serious." sae steps forward again. you don't back away. you can't, and he continues:

"i left you. and that was," he pauses and breathes, "the worst thing i've ever done. every day since then, i've missed you."

sae really hasn't changed, because that's all he says. so blunt, so forward, so harsh. never any room for detail, or explanation. never any time. you're silent so you think he might take that as a cue to keep going.

"i fixed things with rin, too," he says, "and i wish i could say it was out of the kindness of my heart but it was because you always told me i should. you've always made me better. and i—"

"you couldn't stand that." you're so angry. at him, for coming back and apologising like it was all a small deal. you're angry at ms. sato for getting you drunk. you're mad at yourself, for loving him so much even though it's a weak excuse of an apology. "oh, you couldn't stand that i was making you kinder, or better. you never wanted to be good. you've been horrible, always, probably."

and then you stop. "no. no, no, i'm sorry. i don't— i don't think that—"

"it's okay. however you feel about me.. it's okay. you can hate me. it's okay."

and your resolve crumbles.

"i could never hate you," you whisper, "because i love you so much. always have, for so many years and however many days, and i've loved you when you were good or bad or both, or neither, and i'm so mad at you because i never stopped, even when you hurt me. even then."

sae is silent. you are too. people move all around you. they're not listening, they have places to be. because you're 21, and they're all older too. and they have things to do.

"you still love me?"

he sounds quiet, almost. meek, maybe, if that was a thing that he was capable of being. you are doing your best to hold in tears.

"yeah," you say, "yeah, i do."

sae looks at you. "i've never stopped. i never could. i tried. but i never stopped loving you. and i've never been good at showing it, but it's the truth. and i'll be sorry forever, if you'll let me."

this is so unlike him. but people change, and you suppose you've been too separated to know anything as of late. your heart aches. his eyes are still the same. his voice is a little deeper. his shoulders look more broad. you think you're in love again. you think you never stopped being in love. you know it.

"so show me."

and sae kisses you. you hadn't forgotten how good a kisser he is but you think he's gotten better, as his hands find your back and yours take his jaw. maybe he's kissed other people since you. now you're mad again so you kiss him harder, and deeper, and you would usually have more decorum but it's sae and he's famous so if he doesn't care, why should you?

there is so much left unsaid. a hundred things. a million, maybe, a billion. he will spend his life making this up to you. you know he will. but for now, there's no hurt. for now, there is just love that has been cut off for far too long. for the first time in years, you're alive at this moment. you're 11, and 18, and 21, and you're everything that he's loved, and you're everything he's touched, and you are everything to him and you feel it. you deserve this. your blood runs hot, his tongue is in your mouth, you need this. and you love him. you love him to death.

this kiss is the summary of years waiting, and years longing. it's the summative point of ice cream and bike rides, and late night car rides and study dates, and running mascara and lonely nights. this kiss— it's been a long time coming.

flowers chosen: pink camellia & lilac . . longing & joy of youth

❊ send a request! ❊ 5k masterlist ❊ event info ❊

#blue lock x reader #itoshi sae x reader #bllk x reader #bllk sae #blue lock sae #blue lock #sae itoshi x reader #sae itoshi #sae x reader #itoshi sae #reader insert #sorry if this is incorrect im not american LOL ik theyre in japan but i kno american school better than japanese system so!!#but im saying football and not soccer and i will die on this hill sorry.#mitsies 5k

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cybertronian-reader-imagines · 6 months

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How about someone who was recently turned into a Cybertronian and Team Prime tended to and comforted them? They have a lot of adjusting to do! 👀

TW: A bit of implied disassociation because, holy shit, suddenly you're a giant metal robot and that's kinda hard to wrap your newly non-organic brain around.

((Knock Out is here because there is not enough Autobot!Knock Out and I love him.))

Team Prime comforting Reader, who just got turned into a Cybertronian, would include...

Optimus reassures you from the first moment that you have a safe home with Team Prime, should you choose to stay with them. Of course, you do. He makes sure you have the time and space to adjust and be comfortable with your new body before jumping into anything. He's just there if you need him, which some days is more helpful than everyone's else's efforts to offer unsolicited advice right off the bat.

Bumblebee helps you adjust to having wheels by challenging you to races that double as training whenever possible. He is almost certainly going easy on you, but nobody ever tells you as much.

Bulkhead is the first to realize that maybe you just really need a damn hug right now, if only because he's not very good with words. He hugs you and reassured you that it will be okay, and you're amazed how warm and fuzzy you feel afterwards, even though you're fairly sure your new body doesn't actually feel such minute temperature changes.

Ratchet tries to be "comforting" by explaining how your new body works... in detail that goes way, WAY over your head. But eventually, you get him talking about Cybertron's history and culture, and realize that your two species aren't all that different after all, which helps more than an anatomy lesson ever could.

Smokescreen is quick to remind you that you don't have to go back to your boring human school/job/house/whatever. Depending on how much you liked/disliked your old life, this is either incredibly helpful or incredibly irritating. If you get upset with him though, he's quick to apologize, and it's hard not to be comforted by that well-meaning smile and a servo patting your shoulder.

Arcee might somehow be even more protective of you than she is of the humans - she knows what happens when bots overestimate how much they can handle, and she figures that's really easy to do when you go from being a tiny, fragile human to a giant robot. Sometimes it's hard to hear her remind you that you're still mortal, but she means well. "Okay Mom, I get it."

Wheeljack, like Bulkhead, isn't very good with words, but he's also not very good with affection. What he can do, however, is listen. He's there the first time you get frustrated with the rest of the Team - not because they truly did anything wrong, but because being cramped into a tiny base with people you've just met will irritate anyone - and he never breathes a word of what you vented to the others. The Wreckers had their spats too - he knows you'll all be cool at the end of the day.

Oh Primus help Ultra Magnus he doesn't have a comforting servo in his body, but at least he's honest about that. In fact, he's the best bot to go to when you're ready to have things less sugarcoated.

Knock Out doesn't understand what the fuss is about - why would anyone ever want to be a squishy, gross organic when they could be Cybertronian? Humans couldn't turn into cars, for one, and couldn't be polished. He gives you a fresh coat of paint and polish and tells you how much better you look now - it does help, in a way. Being able to pick out new paint makes you feel a little more like your new body is really your body.

But honestly? Your biggest comfort might just be Jack, Miko, and Raf, if only because they will remind you any time you so much as frown just how cool being a giant robot is. And then you remember, yeah, it is pretty cool, actually.

#EVERYONE is here!#platonic #x reader #tfp x reader #transformers x reader #maccadam #optimus #bumblebee #bulkhead #ratchet #smokescreen #arcee #wheeljack #ultra magnus #knock out #jack #miko #raf #cybertronian reader

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purpledisastertwin900 · 1 year

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For all of the “Raph raised himself AND his brothers” fans out there I bring this train wreck of a thought (I’m a lil sleepy so sorry if it doesn’t make sense or if I repeat myself a lot-)

We do not in fact have any actual evidence that splinter was neglectful to the boys when they were little. In fact, we have the opposite.

All of these flashbacks indicate that Splinter acc spent a LOT of time with his boys-

With Mikey, he was obviously coached in his art, a smol child can’t paint like that no matter how talented they are so we can see that splinter put in the time/effort to get Mikey the supplies and teach him how to do it well. Which probably means he researched and learned it himself first, idk I just can’t really see Yoshi knowing how to paint/draw that well but that’s just a theory.

With raph and Leo, their lemonade stand is structurally sound: obviously not put together by an 8 year old, and there’s a lotta lemons lyin around that were probably a bit difficult to find, and just LOOK at their faces here they are definitely familiar with this kind of father/son shenaniganizing-also just LOOK at raph. That’s a happy child, one full of excitement and happiness, not a kid who had to grow up too fast. Also his dad is literally right there in the picture

And then with Donnie, I can’t really tell what he’s doing in the background (it’s a bomb) but what i take from that screenshot is that Donnie feels safe/loved enough to come to Splinter when he gets hurt. And Splinters taking care of him!! And, Donnie is wearing clothes, which shows that he went out and got clothes for them but also didn’t force the boys to wear them if they didn’t want to (see other screenshots lol) which also goes to show that he lets his boys choose who they wanna be and what they wanna do. At any point he could’ve forced all of them to train as ninja, at any point he could’ve made clothes mandatory, and at any point he could’ve forced them to drop things that made them happy like skating or science or art but nah. He was supportive every step of the way.

Now am I saying he was perfect? No. Am I saying he couldn’t have done anything better? No. What I’m saying is that Raph acc did not have to raise himself and his brothers. Splinter acc gave them a pretty good childhood, all things considered and it kinda makes me sad when ppl bash Rise Splinter or continue the neglectful parent trope. Again, I’m not saying he did everything right, he def could have spent more time with his kids on an individual basis and he should’ve been more present, but let’s cut him some slack bc he did a really good job at raising the boys. And he got so much better as the show progressed! But that’s another post lol. I’m also not trying to take away Raphs oldest sibling syndrome, he still def has that from being the leader and watching his bros while splinter was away-I’m just saying he didn’t have to do it ALL alone.

Look in the end he’s doing his best and his best was really good for what they had. He’s a good dad, he’s not neglectful.

#sorry if the pictures suck #click for better quality?? idk haha #Rottmnt #unpause rottmnt #tmnt #rise splinter #splinter is a good dad you guys #I will die on this hill #yes he made mistakes but he is improving phenomenally and that’s what counts #Hamato yoshi #splinter hamato #I’m also v sleepy rn so sorry if this don’t make sense #radios realizations

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punkitt-is-here · 1 year

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probably unpopular opinion but an adult man shipping himself with pinkie pie is kinda weird (in relation to that one guy who commissioned a ton of self-inserts with Pinkie Pie) Like I know Rainbow Dash and Applejack are lesbians but a homophobic cisman shipping himself with one of them is still less offensive than shipping one(cismale)self with a character who is purposefully designed to be as child-like as possible. Most bronies only shipped the ponies in a wlw because of voyerism anyway, they would probably harrass or even kill a lesbian irl. It's like those men who lust after loli characters and justify it with Noooo, she's actually 2000 years old!! I hope the justification for it is not something among the lines of "well, Pinkie's supposed to be neurodivergent, that's why she's childish", because as a (now) adult with both autism and ADHD it's outright offensive to paint all ND people like children. Twi, the CMCs and Fluttershy are all still better neurodivergent representation than Pinkie ever will be. Pinkie is a lot more like a preteen than any other character. For the record, this is not Pinkie slander, just brony slander

This ask hit me like a stack of bricks also what the fuck are you talking about

#my posts #asks #anon

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yourmidnightlover · 9 months

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getting it over with - ch 1

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

summary: after relentless teasing and being the butt of too many jokes, you ask bucky to help you become more experienced in… a particular area of your life

warning: precious bucky, virgin shaming?, virgin reader, slight male!oc x reader, sexual harrassment, illuding to sex, talk of sex

w/c: 2.5k

a/n: i am working on part 2 in my other series, timeless. i've been debating two different ways i could take it and it's been an internal battle trying to figure that out. that being said, i can't help myself and started writing this and so here it is! this will likely be a simple mini series with smut in the later parts, probably the next one tbh. anywho... enjoy!

another night with the girls, and yet another night of beng singled out and ridiculed over a miniscule part of your life.

you were a well accomplished woman and yet all of your hard work has consistently been overlooked in nearly every conversation because of your extracurricular activities. or, well, more like your lack of extracurricular activities.

you had been working with the avengers for five years now as their pr manager, living there for a little over three after finding it was easier to represent and present the team in a brighter light when you knew more about them. it was after you moved in that you got much closer to james ‘bucky’ barnes, who you’ve coined the nickname of ‘jamie’ for. your friends also began to question why you hadn’t, in their terms, “banged,” one of the avengers you happened to live with.

truth be told, you did enjoy spending time with them, especially bucky. but, that would be crossing a line. you were practically employed by them. well, technically you were employed by tony, but that didn’t change the fact that they were your clients. it was just particularly easy to find the good in the people who constantly saved the world. well, that, and you were supposed to make them look good anyway.

the most difficult one to paint in the golden light was definitely bucky. you were great at getting the media to lean into his humanity and reminding them of how he had been tortured into what he became. you’ve imagined him to the public as “sargeant bucky barnes,” giving him back the title he earned rather than the name he was branded. he was still wary of venturing into the eye of the public, but everytime he did there were less people yelling at him and more people giving pitying looks and whispers. sure, he would rather not be recognized at all, but whispering was a hell of a long way from harassment.

bucky was grateful for everything you’d done for him. truth be told, you were grateful for everything they had done for you anyway. hell they had repeatedly saved all of humanity, helping their reputation was the least you could do for them.

but regardless of how well of a job you’ve done making the avengers’ reputation way lighter, somehow the only thing your old friends could talk about is how you’re somehow still a virgin.

“god, i can’t believe you’re still a virgin sometimes. especially being surrounded by hunks like him,” stephanie spoke up as she flipped her bleached hair behind her shoulder. “i would’ve tried my luck long before i cleared their name, girl. i mean, that sergeant guy has the prettiest blue eyes, and have you never wondered what he could do with that metal hand of his?”

you rolled your eyes, “he’s more than a pretty face, steph. he’s actually really sweet, too. his humor’s a bit old, kinda like a grandpa.”

“well, if he’s a grandpa then i’d gladly be his sugar baby,” she squeaked as she sipped on her vodka cranberry.

“can we not talk about him like that?” your face furrowed in embarrassment and you only hoped that she would take your blushing as remnants of the alcohol running through your body.

“why?” she scoffed as she rolled her eyes. “do you want him or something?” she paused, seeingly waiting for your response. clearly, your silence was answer enough. “oh my god you like him, don’t you?”

“no, no, it’s not like that,” you shook your head as you downed the rest of your drink. “i just spend a lot of time with him because of the job, y’know?”

“why don’t you just get him to pop your precious cherry?” she ventured as she stood from her stool.

boy, had you wished for that. mostly in your wildest dreams, but part of you hoped it could maybe happen. but then, you would wake up and were reminded of your place in the world. besides, jamie was over 100 years old. there’s no way he’d want someone who didn’t know what they were doing in the bedroom.

“or,” steph interrupted your thoughts. “we can get out there and find you a different guy to pop your cherry,” she finished with a wink as she grabbed your hands, pulling you from your seat and to the dance floor.

you managed to sneak a glance at the clock before the crowd surrounding you made it more difficult, reading the time being 11 pm. you told the guys you’d be back before 1, so that gave you enough time to please stephanie and then politely excuse yourself.

surprisingly, you had begun to enjoy yourself. the music wasn’t so bad with the surge of confidence the alcohol running through your veins gave you. after a few too many drinks, you were in your own world. finally unbothered by the nagging thoughts of your friends and the weight of your job on your shoulders.

you felt a gentle tap on your shoulder before turning to see a sweet smile. he had big, brown eyes and shaggy hair, broad shoulders, none that compared to the men you lived with, but they were nice nonetheless.

“hi,” he said even sweeter than his smile, keeping his hands to himself politely. “i-i’m noah.”

“well, hello, noah,” you smiled as you stepped closer to him, uncharacteristically throwing your arms around his neck as you continued to sway to the music. “y/n.”

“i-uh-you-you’re gorgeous,” he stuttered as his hands modestly found your waist.

“you really think so?” you said teasingly before leaning up to his ear. “i think you are super cute, yourself.”

at this point, you had nearly forgotten all about stephanie’s presence at all. maybe she had already left with another guy, herself? who knows. right now, all you knew was that you didn’t know brown eyes could be so pretty. mayb you didn’t want to wait anymore. maybe you didn’t want to be the old virgin in your friend group anymore. maybe noah could change that.

“you’re unreal,” he chuckled as he continued to sway with you for the next song until you began to kiss on his neck.

“you taste so sweet,” you commented in his ear before kissing right below it. he pulled back, giving you a sweet smile before connecting your lips together.

“you taste sweeter, believe me,” he huffed out a breath as you reconnected your lips with his.

“i think i want you, noah,” you whispered against his lips so softly he wasn’t sure he even heard you. “pretty please?”

“ye-yea, sure,” he guided you out of the bar, you needing nearly all of his support to even walk out of the threshold of the door.

“think ‘m sleepy, noah,” you mumbled against his neck as the cold air hit your face, as if it had began to sober you up.

“you just said you wanted me…?” he perplexed as he pulled you aside into the ally to gather yourself.

“‘m sorry, noah,” you shrugged as the cold air hit you again. “‘s cold outside, can i go back in?” you turned to walk back inside when he grabbed your arm, probably a bit more harsh than he intended to.

“what the fuck?” he sounded disappointed. “i complimented you, i let you make the first move, and now you just wanna back out?” he pulled you closer to his body. “what the fuck is wrong with you?”

“i-i dunno, i just got confused i think?” you stumbled as you tried to back away once more. “it’s too cold out here, noah.”

“maybe this’ll warm you up,” he grabbed your pliable face and brought you back in for a kiss before you tried to push him away again.

“y/n?” you heard a raspy voice call out. “what the fuck?” you turned to see your jamie confused.

“jamie!” you tred to wiggle out of noah’s grasp once more, a disgruntled look on your face as you did so. “jamie…” you were now limply wrestling out of noah’s grasp as he scoffed at the situation in front of him.

“what?” he said in disbelief. “you wanna lead me on and leave with this guy?”

“noah-”

“i think you need to back of the lady, alright, man?” bucky spoke up as he stepped closer towards you. “she’s clearly a bit drunk, just let me take her home and we’ll be on our way. no harm, right?” he tried to reason with the douchebag.

“no harm?” he grasped your arm tighter before he continued, making you wince slightly. “so this bitch is able to fucking lead me on and then leave me high and dry and there’s ‘no harm’?”

“okay, i’ve tried to be nice about this,” without a second of hesitation, he had noah’s arms behind his back, not enough to seriously injure him, but just enough to harm him enough to not tempt him to do any more harm. “you will apologize to miss y/n for talking to her the way you did, you will walk away, and you won’t do anything like that to any woman in the near future, understood?” noah nodded. “am i understood?!”

“yes, yes!” bucky nudged him further in your direction as you were leaning your back against the brick wall for stability. “i’m sorry, y/n.”

“for…?” bucky taunted.

“i’m sorry for talking to you the way i did.”

“good boy,” bucky teased as he released the man, letting him run away and not sparing him another glance before he made his way closer to you.

“‘m sorry, jamie,” you stumbled forward and threw your arms around him. you had never been so openly affectionate, especially with bucky since you knew his aversions. since you were so drunk, you simply didn’t register the unspoken boundaries you had unintentionally set in place for yourself. “didn’t wanna make him mad. jus’ changed my mind s’all,” you buried your face in his neck.

“you have a right to change your mind, doll,” he soothed as he gently rubbed your back, leading you to steve’s car he borrowed.

“y/n?” you snapped your head to look at bucky as he spoke. “i don’t want you to be so late again, doll. it’s almost 2 am. had me worried sick about ya,” his hand danced on your knee, you assumed to comfort you after the events of the night.

“i didn’t know,” you shook your head. “i swear, i just lost track of time. s’not like me to do this. i just got so mad and wanted to get it over with, y’know?”

“get what over with?”

“you won’t laugh at me?” you grabbed his hand that was resting on your knee and turned in your seat to face your body towards him. “never, doll,” he chuckled at your serious tone.

“i’m tired of bein’ a virgin,” you said with a sense of disappointment. “don’ want people makin’ fun of me anymore.”

“that’s nothing to be embarrassed about, doll,” he shook his head as he put the car in park before running to your side of the car and helping you out. “some people want to save that moment, i get it.”

“no,” you groaned as you leaned into him. “i don’t wanna save it. i was just scared at first, and then i didn’t want to, and now it’s too late because nobody wants to be with a virgin.”

“that’s not true, y/n,” he shook his ehad as he pressed your shared floor on the elevator.

“would you wanna have sex with me?” you wondered aloud as bucky began coughing loudly. “don’t be mean,” you huffed and crossed your arms, figuring he was trying to hide his laugh. “steph said i should get you to ‘pop my cherry’ but i knew you would’t wan-”

“hey, that’s not what i meant,” he stopped your train of thought.

“so you do wanna ‘pop my cherry’?” you awed at the man as the elevator doors opened.

“i wan’ you to stop referencing it as ‘popping your cherry’,” he grimaced as he said it himself.

“you wanna have sex with me? bang? do the deed? take my virginity? make love?”

“stop it,” he groaned as you giggled, leaning into his chest even more. “i wanna have this conversation when your sober, if you even remember it.”

“i’ll remember, my sweet jamie,” you held onto his arm as he walked you to your room, helping you get into bed before going into your bathroom and returning with your bin of skincare. “this is why you’re my sweet jamie,” if you didn’t know any better you’d think he was blushing.

he began using your makeup wipes to remove the remnants of makeup that had survived the night, followed by micellar water to remove the excess remover from your face. you knew he had seen you do your skincare routine after having so many late movie nights with one another, but it was still flattering that he had remembered it all so well. he finished applying your toners, serums, and finally your moisturizer with gentle hands, his metal one providing a nice cold surface that woke your skin up a bit more. it wasn’t until you reached up to grab his flesh hand that he noticed the bruises lacing your arms.

“god,” he sighed as he looked down at his lap. “i’m so sorry i was too late, doll.”

“you weren’t too late,” you shook your head at his negativity. “you were perfectly on time. you saved me. i don’t-i don’t know what would’ve happened had you not shown up. i-”

“i don’t wanna think about what could’ve happened, please,” he shook his head as he held onto your bruised wrist softly, tenderly rubbing his cool metal hand over the damaged skin before pressing a kiss to it.

“will you stay with me tonight?” you asked softly, as if you were scared he would say no. as if he would ever tell you no.

“only if you’re sure,” you nodded eagerly with a grin before he crawled into bed with you.

bucky’s arms wrapped around your waist as you laid on his chest, breathing in his scent as his soothing heartbeat calmed you down after the nights antics.

“i’ll remember tomorrow, jamie.”

CHAPTER 2

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