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thatrandomidiot182 · 8 days ago

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Blood Ties and Past Lives

Chapter Warnings. mentions of death/murder, vulgar language, childhood trauma, mild paranoia. dialogue heavy!!

As strong as you like to pride yourself on being, you end up breaking down before you can even open your front door.

The day's events, and the emotional turmoil that you've pushed down throughout have finally caught up to you in the dim hallway of your apartment complex, just feet away from the privacy of your living room.

You struggle to jam your key into the lock. Shaking hands and teary eyes make it hard to find the precision you normally have, and eventually you give up. Frustrated, defeated and tired, you release a loud sob as you fall to the floor.

Collapsing on the worn down welcome mat that your landlord gifted you when you first moved in, you slump against the apartment door, trembling hands losing their grip on your keys as you sob.

Your forehead knocks against the cool wood as you do your best to stay quiet, alternating between pursing your lips and holding your breath to muffle your whimpers and heaves. Your hands clutch your shoulders as they shudder, grip tightening the longer you sit there. Your face feels uncomfortably warm and sticky and you eventually get sent into a coughing fit as you choke on your spit, beginning to hyperventilate as you can't seem to catch your breath and the tears just don't stop–

Someone's behind you.

You swing around at the sudden weight on your shoulder, scrambling back into the wall as you all but bear your teeth at the stranger in front of you.

The stranger is quick to raise his hands in a display of innocence, "Easy there tiger, just trying to be a good samaritan..." his voice is soft, pretty brown eyes wide as he takes in your defensive stance.

You're too caught up in the wave of emotions that have overwhelmed you to bother being ashamed at the way you only cried harder at his concern.

The man begins to panic, voice wavering as his hands flail around hesitantly. He slowly crouches next to you, reaching out to place a hand on your knee, "Hey, heyyyy, it's okay– It-It's okay."

You can't even muster a laugh at his stuttering.

"Can you tell me your name? I-Uh, I'm Marcus– Marcus Watts, but everyone calls me MJ so... Just– Call me MJ." He cringes as he stumbles over his words and his awkwardness has your tears gradually slowing as you become distracted by his clamoring.

"I'm your uh... I'm your new neighbor!" He smiles, crooked and wobbly as he sneaks a peak at the number above your head.

You let out a strangled whine at the information, burying your head in your knees in shame.

What a great first impression.

MJ grows frantic at the sound, clumsily moving to sit more comfortably next to you as he gently lays a hand across your shoulders, pulling you to his side as he rubs his fingers soothingly across your muscle.

"I-I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I'm so-I'm sorry–" He gently hushes your panicked apologies, tucking your head under his chin. "Don't apologize... Don't apologize, you have nothing to be sorry for. We all have those days." His voice is smooth, not too high or low, but with a comforting roughness that has your heart thrumming in your chest.

"No! No, I sh- I can't be– you don't have to–" he's quick to shut down your sentence, hand curling around your bicep reassuredly as he leans his head back into the wall, throat bobbing against your cheek as he speaks, "I know. But what kind of guy would I be if I let my pretty neighbor sit outside crying."

You laugh at the sentiment, a wet, sad little chuckle that has you cringing afterwards.

MJ's chest rumbles and your cheeks flush as you realize that he's laughing, "Ahhh there you are! I was wondering if I was ever going to hear anything other than sad puppy noises from you."

You let out an embarrassed scoff against his neck, "Sad puppy noises? What??" Your voice is scratchy and almost unintelligible but he somehow understands.

MJ laughs again, much to your offense, and the sound has you unintentionally relaxing further into his hold, "Yeah, you sound like a sad puppy when you cry. It's kinda cute." You pull away from his neck with a frown, squinting at him suspiciously.

"Cute? You're not a weird, creepy sadist are you?"

"Wha-No! NO!" You purse your lips to hide the smile that encases your face at his flustered shout, watching in amusement as his face becomes a similar shade as his hair.

MJ huffs dramatically, "Is this what I get for being a good person? Get called a creep?"

You snort, leaning your head back against the wall as he pulls his hand back to his side, "This is Gotham, you're lucky that I'm a good person, who's thankful..." You smile bashfully, "Really, thank you. For... all of this. I-I promise I'm not always this... uh– dramatic." You wince, thumbing your palm nervously.

MJ offers a small smile, "No problem! Like I said, we all have those days..." He pauses, and you watch anxiously as his face scrunches hesitantly, "Do you... Do you want to talk about it?"

You ponder his offer for a good minute, letting the ambiance of the apartments wash over you.

The sirens in the distance.

The muffled shouts of the single mom at the end of the hallway.

The faint accented voice in your ear encouraging you to open up–

"My tata– My grandfather died... today was his funeral." Your voice is weak and squeaky, but somehow, you don't feel embarrassed by it.

"Oh." It's obvious that your revelation caught him off guard, "I'm sorry."

His empathy is foreign to you, and the entire experience has you thinking that you're dreaming.

After all, he has no reason to be here. Sitting on the grimy floor of your apartment building with his mess of a neighbor who he's never met before. Consoling and empathizing with them as if it was a moment between friends and not someone he just stumbled across.

Yet he is.

And it simultaneously has your heart fluttering with warmth and stomach twisting with paranoia.

Because, why?

Why is he here?

What does he want?

Is this all a ploy? A plot against you?

What if he's with them?

The concept of a stranger being so kind, is just inconceivable. Not just because it's Gotham, and not even because everyone knows the rule of 'stranger danger,' but more so because of the fact that his kindness is aimed towards you.

You haven't done anything to deserve it, so why?

Why is the compassion and concern this complete stranger has offered you in the ten minutes you've known him more than you've gotten from Bruce and his kids in three years?

The realization has your brain stumped between laughing and crying again.

Yet, despite your inner anxieties, your body is completely at ease in his presence.

Instead of being tense and guarded like you should have been, you were completely lax in his embrace.

Oddly enough, despite never having met before, you feel a comfortability around him that you've never felt before. Almost as if you've known him your entire life.

Every molecule of your being is screaming at you to get closer and bury yourself in his warmth once again, as if he himself could singlehandedly free you of your burdens. Your nerves are soothed to a point you haven't felt in years and the voices in your head are finally quiet.

MJ's appearance in your life is as sudden and perplexing as it is welcome.

And once your tears have finally stopped and the single mom down the hall begins yelling at her kids, you realize it's all too good to be true.

You don't deserve such luxuries, not anymore.

So, with a newfound resolve, you offer him one last smile as you rise to finally head into your apartment.

"Thank you, and again, I'm sorry."

It seems like that's the only thing you're able to say anymore.

Your body instantly alerts you to the sound of your living room window being opened.

It's half past midnight, two days after your mortifying first encounter with MJ and you're curled up in bed with a novel and a glass of wine your boss gifted you after you asked for a week off to mourn.

Having been so engrossed in the novel you were reading, you had failed to notice the creaking of your fire escape until your sixth sense suddenly spiked at the clamoring of the rusty latch being opened in the next room.

"What the fuck?" Your concerned whisper breaks the silent ambiance of your room as you hesitantly rise from your bed, tossing your book aside gently. You quickly grab your phone off the nightstand before quietly swinging your bedroom door open, pausing to make sure the intruder stayed unaware of your movements.

Clutching the device to your side, you slowly begin to make your way out into the hall. Years of practice making your steps undetectable as your socked feet lightly ghost along the wooden flooring, carefully avoiding the spots you know would creak and groan.

You focus your hearing on the living room just in time to hear as a body makes its way onto the same floor with a faint thud. A sound so quiet, it immediately had you on guard, with the lack of stomping and clattering alerting you to the fact that this wasn't an ordinary burglar in your apartment.

No, whoever this person is, is light on their feet, meticulously careful in their actions as the window creaking is kept muffled as it's closed and... locked?

The click of the lock has you tense as you peek around the corner of the hallway, your mind runs through a million different possibilities...

A ghost?

An assassin?

Did they finally find you?

Maybe it's one of the capes?

Did Felix somehow manage to track you down?

You raise your hand defensively, fully prepared to web anything that poses a threat as you finally lay eyes on the person–

"Damian?" Your shock is inherently obvious as you murmur the boy's name in confusion, dropping your hand down to your side at the familiar face that greets you.

His head whips towards you, eyes narrowing in his typical glare as his body straightens to his usual posture. "So, you are awake."

You gawk at his confidence, expecting anything but the comfortable ease he exudes as he stalks closer. As if he hadn't just broken into your apartment in the middle of the night. "What the hell are you–"

He's quick to cut you off, whether it's because he knew you were gonna lose your shit or because whatever he needed to say was that important was up for debate.

"You're wrong."

Your brow furrows as you still find yourself reeling in confusion at his sudden appearance, "Wha–I–"

"It was my fault." His voice is hard, eyes trained on the wood beneath your feet as he stands across from you, an arms width away yet closer than he'd ever willingly been before...

"What are you talking about?" You scoff, arms crossing defensively as you eye him suspiciously.

"I disobeyed father." He clenches his fists, "I was stupid and reckless and I got caught and now he's dead." His breath stutters for just a moment, "Alfred's dead because I failed." His face falls, previous bravado of arrogant nonchalance gone as his words settle in your chest.

You purse your lips thoughtfully, face falling as you realize the intent behind his visit. "Damian it's not–"

"I'm Robin."

He meets your eyes heavily as you pause in shock at his sudden revelation. The haunting green hue encapsulates your vision as you stare at him in wide-eyed disbelief.

Of course, you've already known that he was Robin for a while now. In fact, it had only taken you a few weeks of living in the manor to put the pieces together and figure out about all of your family's little nighttime personas. You weren't top of your class for nothing after all, but to hear him admit it so openly– to you of all people– has taken you completely off guard.

You allow yourself a moment of confusion before letting out a sigh, offering a small, awkward smile as your gaze softens, "I know."

He's visibly taken aback by your answer, eyes narrowing as he scoffs, "What do you mean you know?"

You smirk, rolling your eyes lightheartedly as you walk past him to sit on your couch, "Please, I'm not an idiot. I know about all of you."

He crosses his arms, glaring down at you after following to stand before you, "How?"

"Its simple pattern recognition, really." You shrug, counting off your reasoning with your fingers, "You guys were never home at night, always had suspicious bruises and cuts... You never seemed shocked about the stories in the news, never hesitated to suddenly become 'busy' when they'd broadcast an Arkham breakout... Always had somewhere to be or something to do besides lounge around like normal rich people..." You trail off, eyeing him warily as he becomes visibly agitated as you continue.

"You think you're clever because you figured it out? Drake found out fathers identity when he was thirteen, and a stranger. You're not special for catching on after two years in close proximity." His words are venomous and it grants you a sick sense of relief to finally see him behaving the way you'd expected. "Besides, you've never had definitive proof. If I hadn't wanted you to know, you would have lived with baseless assumptions and a foolish, inflated ego." His face resets to that haughty smugness he's known for as he scrunches his nose down at you.

You bristle defensively at his words, glaring back as you scoff, officially done with his sudden hot and cold attitude, "Why are you even here, Damian?" You toss your hands up frustratedly, "Why bother telling me all of this, if you're gonna be mad about me knowing? Seriously, did you come here just to mock me? Why are–"

"Because you don't understand!" He snaps. "Because you need to understand!" His lips curve into a vicious scowl, voice rising in anger as he stalks closer to your seated figure, "It doesn't make sense!"

His voice cracks, "Why!? Why are you the only one who doesn't blame me?!" Your face falls as you watch his eyes well with tears, "Why are you– the one person I've hurt more than anyone else– the only person who understands... Why aren't you angry at me?" His bottom lip quivers and it takes everything in you to stop yourself from pulling him into your arms.

You opt to offer a half-hearted shrug, awkwardly snorting out a small laugh, as you rise from the couch, "Oh, trust me, I am." You pause, placing a hesitant hand on his shoulder, watching as he shrinks under your touch, "Just not for this." You huff, "I'm angry at you because you stabbed me, sure." You shrug, releasing a tense sigh as you avert your gaze to the wall behind him, "But it'd be wrong of me to blame you when I was the one who had the chance to stop Bane and didn't."

Damian's face snaps towards yours, eyes widening as he chokes out a confused, "What?"

You take a breath, squeezing your eyes closed as you speak resolutely, "I was The Spider– The uh– hero, from New York..." You trail off awkwardly, avoiding his befuddled stare with a sigh, "Long story short, shit happened, and I'm done playing hero so..."

"You–" You don't give him the chance to question your sudden confession, gently guiding him to sit next to you on the sofa as you quickly continue.

"The night Alfred died–" You hesitate, swallowing the lump in your throat nervously, "I saw Bane downtown." You let the information settle in the air, watching Damian's reaction carefully as he does the same.

"He... He was monologuing to the rogues, going on and on about something stupid, I can't remember, but he was completely off-guard. Like, totally relaxed. As if he was in his own bed and not in the middle of a crowd of psycho serial killers." Your eyes glaze over as you recall the scene.

"I was walking through an alley, one of the usual shortcuts I take on my way home from work, near the Batburger on tenth... I reach the end and he's just... there, I mean, h–he was right there. Right there!" Your fists shake from their clenched position on your lap, "and I had a chance– I had the chance, the opportunity to end it all." You scowl, "All the torment... All the chaos... All the pain..." You bring your fists up to your face, hiding your frustrated tears behind your palms as you berate yourself, "All I had to do was swing a web and pull and it'd be over..." You laugh humorlessly, "But I didn't. I didn't and Bane went on to kill Alfred that same damn night..."

You grit your teeth, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill as you continue, "I was selfish." Your voice cracks, "I was stupid. Instead of doing the world a favor and putting that piece of shit down, I walked away. Told myself it wasn't my problem– That it wasn't my job to fight the bad guys, to be the hero. Not anymore– I–" You stop yourself, weary of where you were steering the conversation as Damian looms silently beside you.

It's quiet for a second, the only sound being the movement of your hands wiping your tears away from your face as the two of you sit with the weight of your words.

"He wouldn't have wanted that." Damian's voice is softer, but still carries an edge to it that has you wilting at the implications.

"Yeah, why's that?" You barely manage to whisper the words as your throat closes in on itself.

"He always spoke so highly of you." Damian smiles ruefully, "Anytime he mentioned your name it would be followed by praise..." He rolls his eyes with a scowl, "He always said you'd be the one to make something of yourself. To be great..." He sighs, closing his eyes as his face scrunches, almost as if the act of trying to console you pained him.

"He wouldn't want you going down the path of a killer."

The sentence sparks a sharp bark of laughter out of you.

...Little did he know, you already have.

"Trust me–" He pauses, and you watch patiently as he tenses, eyes darting to your face nervously before gluing themselves to your ratty carpet. "–Killing someone, even a murderer, even someone like Bane... It doesn't give you the relief you'd expect." His voice is low, solemn and honest as he speaks and it has you huffing in exasperation.

"You sound experienced..."

He doesn't respond as quickly as you expect, and you can't help but eye him curiously as he moves to sit beside you.

"I am." He inhales deeply, hands folding together on his lap and you can hear his heart thrumming nervously.

"My name is Damian Thomas Al Ghul–Wayne." Your brow furrows in confusion, "I'm the son of Bruce Wayne and Talia Al Gul..." The name is unfamiliar, and it has a pit forming in your gut as he continues, "Grandson of R'as Al Ghul and the Demon Heir of the League of Assassins." His eyes are empty, voice carefully steady and flat as he recites the information as if reading off of a script.

"Since the day of my birth, I was raised to be a weapon. I was–I was handed a sword before I could even walk, taught to eliminate threats before I was able to eat solid foods..." Your heart sinks, "I was made to be the perfect assassin. The perfect heir... and I was." He sighs, "The first time I killed a man, I was eight. My grandfather ordered the execution of a traitor among the league, and saw it as the perfect opportunity to test me." The image sends a wave of nausea rolling through your stomach. Picturing an eight-year old Damian standing before a corpse, bloodied hands and trembling lip as he withheld tears– "I didn't think anything of it. I simply completed the duty I was given... It's how I viewed every mission that came after. A duty. An honor entrusted to me by my grandfather... I wanted to make him proud, for him and Mother to see that I was worthy of my title, of my blood..."

He smiles ruefully, "Then I met father. He brought me to Gotham... to the Manor, and... to Alfred." You offer a reassuring smile, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I was forced to... acclimate to everything so quickly. One minute I was an assassin, and the next, I was being told to never kill anyone again! I was only ten years old, and everyone expected me to just... ignore everything I was previously taught. To abandon my upbringing– abandon my mother– and become a hero... so I did. I-I turned my back on the league, I've forsaken my blood and reshaped myself into a Robin deserving of fighting beside Batman... but it doesn't matter what I do, they all still think of me as a murderer." He hangs his head in shame, and you find yourself sharing the sentiment as you reflect on how you treated him while you lived in the manor.

If you had known any of this then, maybe you guys would have been friends...

He laughs, a cold and humorless sound that has you cringing in remorse, "Ever since I left the league, it feels like I've been under constant surveillance. Like father and Grayson are just waiting for me to screw up. Like at any little inconvenience I'll just turn and kill someone..." his bottom lip trembles, and you rub his shoulder comfortingly as he proceeds to let out a shaky sigh,

"What I'm saying is that the mark of a killer is something that will never leave you, no matter how hard you try... so... don't ever regret walking away... no matter the consequences."

It's quiet once he finishes his speech, the two of you sitting side by side as you wallow in the somber atmosphere.

Your fingers twitch nervously, canines digging into your bottom lip as you breathe through the wave of emotions that crashed over you after Damian's confession.

Confusion, empathy, grief, anger, sorrow...

It all forces you to come to a whole new understanding of the boy sitting next you.

You're honestly just completely taken off guard by everything. This was by far the longest conversation you'd ever had, and it has you reeling. The fact that Damian even appeared before you– willingly– was already jarring, and the way he spoke– open, honest... vulnerable, is so uncharacteristic that it's unnerving.... It all has you contemplating, why?

What changed?

Did Alfred's death really cause such a reaction?

Perhaps Alfred's words of praise were enough to convince Damian that you weren't the villain he had assumed?

Maybe Alfred asked him to reconcile with you while he was alive and now that he's gone Damian feels an obligation to fulfill the elders wish?

You don't know, and you don't think you'll ever know the true reason why Damian decided to approach you tonight, but you'll be damned if you let the opportunity slip through your fingers...

As much as you like to pretend that you're fine on your own... you're lonely.

You miss your family.

You miss the comfort and the love, the loyalty and acceptance. The warmth of your mother's embrace– of your tias singing and grandparents cooking. You miss your cousins and their inside jokes and stupid nicknames that always picked at your worst insecurities. The birthdays and weddings that went on till sunrise, where you'd be lulled to sleep on a plastic white chair by drunken chattering and laughter. The peace that came with waking up in the arms of your step-dad as he spoke his goodbyes. You miss the joy of having someone love you unconditionally, of someone always being there for you, without expecting anything in return...

and Damian may be your last chance at having even a fraction of that again, which is why you're meeting him in the middle.

You close your eyes resolutely, tilting your head back against the couch as you come out of your thoughts, releasing a deep sigh as you begin to speak, "I was twelve when I was bitten by a radioactive spider that escaped containment from my step-dad's lab." Damian's head snaps towards you at the sudden breach of silence, eying you curiously as you adjust your posture to slump back into the cushions more comfortably.

"It was two years after he and my mom were murdered, and we were finally allowed access to clear out his personal items after the lawsuit cleared... That stupid little bug slipped out of the plastic tube, crawled into my sock and bit me right on my achilles!" You scowl, "The pain was excruciating. It felt like fire was flooding through my veins, burning me from the inside out…” You grimace, “I'll never forget the fear on my Tias face when she came into the room and found me on the floor. She thought I was having a seizure... The pain had me convulsing so bad that she had to pin me down to stop me from ripping chunks out of myself.” You smile weakly, “I've never screamed like that in my entire life, I couldn't speak for two weeks afterwards..." You shiver at the memory, beginning to pick idly at a loose thread in the couch cushion.

"I remember waking up in my bed, confused as hell... I honestly thought it was a dream– Well, at least until I accidentally webbed my blanket to myself." You snort, lips quirking into a cringe as you recall the meltdown you had after being unable to disentangle yourself from your nanas rose cobija.

"I was so confused and scared when my powers began to develop. I was terrified the first time I managed to walk on my ceiling!” You grin, “but, I was also an impressionable kid with a sense of justice too big for their tiny body who just got superpowers, so, it's safe to say that it didn't take me very long to put on the suit.” You laugh, "I say suit, but that's just me being generous. It was really just a ski mask with lab goggles and my step-dads old varsity hoodie." You scoff, "I looked so bad, I'm glad the media didn't get any pictures of me until I had a legit suit… Who knows what kind of memes would exist if they had!” Your smile dwindles at the lack of response from Damian, turning to meet his unimpressed gaze with a sad smile, “I also had absolutely no training. No martial arts classes, no self-defense knowledge whatsoever– and I didn't even know how to properly control my powers…” You sigh, “You can imagine how that went.”

Damian winces and you shake your head remorsefully, “Sure, I had a rough start, but when it came down to it, I was a stubborn kid with a bleeding heart who wanted to keep others from the same fate as my mom.” Damian shifts next to you, gaze glued to your face as you continue, “So, every night when my Tia went off to work, I'd sneak out and… do my thing.” Your nose scrunches at your wording, a small laugh slipping out at the awkward phrasing, “I got my ass kicked more times that I can count, almost died on multiple occasions… but I always got back up because there was always someone else to save. Always a bad guy to stop.” You frown.

“It was easy, for the first couple of weeks. Small things, like rescuing cats from trees, stopping pickpockets, webbing some car thieves and roughing up perverts who bothered women on the sidewalks... but then it got real. The threats got bigger, and it got harder to hide what I was doing from those who knew me best.” Your eyes flutter as you blink back tears, “Gwen figured me out within my first couple of weeks as Spider.” A wet laugh sneaks past your lips as you recall her pout, “She was so mad that I didn't tell her. She insisted on designing my suit! She– She even took a fashion class just to make it for me…” You smile, “It didn't come out great, obviously, but… I-It meant so much to me to have her support. I was so scared that she’d be afraid of me, that-that If I told anyone they’d think I was a freak-or-or sell me to the government or something…” You laugh, “But she didn’t, she-she didn’t do any of that she just… she supported me, and she loved me… despite everything that came with being a hero. Throughout all the broken bones and split lips, after all the breakdowns and close-calls. She was there, she was always there… and it got her killed.” Your gaze drifts down to your fingers, nailbeds now swollen and raw from your unintentional picking.

You choke on a whimper, composure slowly slipping as your mind flashes back to the night of her death, “She-She wasn't supposed to be there that night, but she was worried about me… She always worried.” You roll your jaw as you grit out the details, blurry images of rain and smoke flood your brain as you relive it all, “The Green Goblin bombed Oscorp during one of our fights. He was trying to kill me and she got caught in the crossfire…” Damian's gaze was pitying and it sparks a burning wave of nausea to churn in your stomach as your jaw clenches, “The worst part is that it wasn't even the bomb that killed her, it was the shrapnel.” He winces as you laugh angrily, “Her death wasn't quick, and it sure as hell wasn't painless.” You scowl, “She was alive for ten minutes after the explosion. Ten minutes that she spent in agonizing pain, with a piece of metal impaled in her spine! Ten minutes that I spent trying to keep her alive as she bled out in my arms!” Your chest heaves, breath stuttering as your heart thrums in your veins.

Damian's quiet as he watches you overcome your frustration. Soft green eyes never leaving your face as you whimper, “She was only fourteen… She hadn't even started high school.”

You swallow as you gather yourself, wiping away the tears as you rush to continue, “He’s the same man who killed my Tia…” Damian’s eyes widen, “He rigged the bridge to explode, right at the time she was on her way home from work” You eye your peeling wallpaper disinterestedly as you speak, “I tried to save her, but coincidentally there was also a school bus that was falling…” Your jaw clenches as you grip your biceps, desperate for a sense of comfort as you remember her defeated eyes, “I couldn't choose. I tried to stall for as long as possible to figure something out…” You force out a shuddering breath, ”I felt my shoulders dislocate. I felt as all the muscles in my arms were slowly ripped apart over and over as my healing factor struggled to keep up and I panicked… Eventually, I ran out of time, and she chose for me.” You feel the warmth of Damian's arm against your own as your body trembles, “I never even got the chance to tell her, but the look in her eyes as she cut the web told me that she already knew. She had always known, which is why she did what she did.”

You groan, “I was so angry. So blinded by rage, I couldn't even think, I didn't want to think... so I didn't. I just did what I do best... I fought.” You swallow thickly, “I went after the goblin, with no care for myself, no regard for what was gonna happen, I just wanted revenge. Justice.” You can’t help but laugh at the irony, “We fought for two hours before we eventually nosedived into the river. His hovercraft self-destructed on impact, and as far as the rest of the world's concerned, Spider died on that bridge, saving the people of New York like they always had.” You smirk condescendingly, “Good old Spidey got a hero's farewell, and I was finally free to be a normal kid…”

“A normal kid, who lost everyone because they wanted to play hero.” You scowl, “Even going back to a normal life was impossible, because as you said, the mark of a killer can't be erased, and my recklessness and selfish desire for vengeance came back to haunt me.”

Your teeth bear a sharp grin, lacking any humor or comfort as you choke out, “When the man under the mask turned out to be my best friend's father.”

"Let's watch a movie!" was your desperate attempt to lighten the atmosphere after spending close to four hours trading childhood stories of valor and trauma with your younger brother.

It took you another half hour to convince him of the idea and yet another hour to settle on a movie you both found interesting enough.

Halfway through Revenge of the Sith, Damian turns to you, "I... apologize for stabbing you."

You laugh, "It's okay, you're not the first person to try and murder me, and given the circumstances, you don't have the worst reason either."

His confused stare goes ignored as you turn back to the screen of your laptop, tapping his arm excitedly as the orange and red light draws your attention, "Shh! Here comes the best part!"

I HATE YOU!!

You were my brother Anakin! I loved you...

You find yourself quietly mouthing along with Obi-Wan as you drape your throw blanket over Damian's sleeping form.

Taking a step back, your lips quirk in a small smile at the sight of the lanky teenager squished onto your couch, covered by a faded orange blanket with white bunnies sprawled along the fabric like polka dots.

After all the confessions and revelations the night held, it was comforting to see him look like a kid for once.

"Damian! Where have you been, we've been worried sick–" You roll your eyes, cutting Dick off with an overexaggerated sigh, "Not Damian, but he is fine!"

It silent for a moment before he responds, voice clipped and gruff as he questions, "Wha– Who is this!? Why do you have Damian's phone?!"

"Why, it's only your favorite sibling, of course!" You chirp, teeth bared in a sickly sweet smile that matches the over heightened pitch in your voice that has Damian glaring at you from across the room.

Dick stutters out your name nervously and you nod, "Yes, it's me. So, Damian broke into my apartment last night–"

"He what!?" You nearly throw your phone halfway across the room in your haste to draw it away from your ear at his screeching.

"–aaaand we managed not to kill each other! He's fine, just needs a ride home."

The line is silent, and you smirk at the thought of Dick’s terrified face.

"I-I'll be right there."

You and Damian exchange matching grins at the panic in Dicks voice after he hangs up.

"He really has no faith in us, does he?"

Damian scoffs, "Absolutely none, I'm almost offended."

You smirk, "Says the one who pulled a whole ass katana on me the last time we were alone together!"

Damian simply averts his gaze, hiding his shit-eating grin with his mug.

You shake your head with a small laugh.

In the span of one night, you've managed to reconcile and bond with Damian at an astonishing rate.

It's shocking, but as you watch his nose scrunch at the taste of your cheap instant coffee, you find yourself discarding any ill will. After all, he's starting to grow on you.

Taglist <3: @onceinamillionposter @jscrawls @bat1212 , @1abi , @cosmosluckycharms , @homeless-clown , @awawage , @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni, @zomqiez , @wishesofficial , @itsberrydreemurstuff

If you saw me accidentally post this before it was finished... no you didn't.

THANK YOU ALL FOR THE SUPPORT!! I'M SO HYPED FOR THE FUTURE OF THIS SERIES OMFG...

I know this is tagged as a Venom! Reader, and this is now three chapters with no Venom, so I wanted to quickly address that! Basically, he's not really going to make an appearance until the second arc, about two or three chapters from now. That's because this first arc is mainly world building and setting up the relationships and plot for the second arc which will have more action and spidey shenanigans. Sorry if that's not what you wanted to hear, but it's just the way the story is going rn.

N E WAYZZZ THANK YOU FOR READING HOPE YOU ENJOYEDD <3

#x reader #reader insert #batfam x reader #VENOMOUS THINGS #batman #batfam #spiderman atsv #spiderman itsv #spider!reader #spiderman #dc x marvel au #dc x reader

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lovetommyactually · 4 months ago

Text

What You Wanted, What I Needed

Bucktommy Ι WC 4.3k Ι M Ι Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Fix-it (if you want it to be) Ι cw: Dubious Consent this is inspired from this post .. Ooh look another Drunk!Tommy fic 😶‍🌫️

[Below or on ao3]

The bar was loud and crowded, the kind of place where people disappeared into the noise and shadows. Tommy sat hunched over the counter, nursing what must have been his third��or maybe fourth—whiskey of the night, after a couple of beers. His face was flushed, his shirt slightly untucked, and his metallic eyes heavy-lidded from a haze of alcohol and exhaustion.

“Hey there, handsome,” a voice said, low and syrupy.

Tommy turned his head sluggishly to see a man sliding onto the stool next to him. The guy was tall, with dark hair slicked back, and he wore a cocky smirk that immediately set Tommy on edge.

He sighed, the sound almost defeated. “Not interested,” he mumbled, his words slurring slightly as he turned back to his drink.

The man chuckled, unfazed. “Aw, come on. You don’t even know what I’m offering yet.”

Tommy frowned, blinking blearily at the whiskey in his glass. “Doesn’t matter,” he muttered. “I’m not interested.”

The man leaned closer, resting his elbow on the counter and angling his body toward Tommy. “You look like you’ve had a rough night. Maybe I can help you forget about it.”

Tommy’s lips twitched into a faint, humorless smile. “Yeah? You got a time machine in your pocket?”

The man laughed, though there was a sharpness to it. “No, but I’ve got other things that might help.” He leaned in further, his voice dropping to something more intimate. “What’s got you so down, huh? Work? Love life? You can talk to me.”

Tommy shook his head slowly, his movements uncoordinated. “I don’t wanna talk,” he said flatly.

“Then maybe we don’t have to talk,” the man replied, his tone suggestive.

Tommy finally looked at him, his expression half-annoyed, half-bemused. “You don’t take a hint, do you?”

The man smirked, undeterred. “Not when I see something I like.”

Tommy sighed again, rubbing a hand over his face. “I just want to drink, alright? Alone.”

“Drinking alone is no fun,” the man countered, his eyes glinting with something unreadable. “Besides, I can see it in your eyes. You don’t really want to be alone. Not tonight.”

Tommy frowned, something tightening in his chest at the words. He didn’t reply, his gaze dropping back to his drink.

The man took his silence as an invitation, shifting closer until their arms nearly brushed. “Come on, don’t play hard to get. I know what you want.”

Tommy stiffened, his discomfort growing. “I said no,” he muttered, though his voice lacked its usual strength.

The man’s eyes flicked down, and his smirk widened. “Yeah, sure. You’re saying no, but your body’s saying yes.” He nodded toward the faint outline of a bulge in Tommy’s pants.

Tommy flushed, embarrassment mingling with frustration. “That’s not—”

Before he could finish, the man’s hand was on his thigh, squeezing lightly as he leaned in.

“Relax,” the guy murmured, his lips brushing against Tommy’s ear. “Let me take care of you.”

Tommy froze, his body stiffening as the man pressed a hard, insistent kiss to his lips. His sluggish mind struggled to keep up, the alcohol dulling his instincts and making him feel disconnected from his own body.

The man tugged at his arm, pulling him off the stool with surprising force. “Come on,” he said, his voice low and coaxing. “Let’s find somewhere more private.”

“Wait—no, I—” Tommy stammered, his voice weak and unconvincing as the man began steering him toward the bathrooms.

“Shh,” the man murmured, a smug grin curling his lips as he pressed Tommy against the wall just outside the hallway leading to the bathrooms. “You’re overthinking it.”

Tommy’s hands came up, palms weakly pressing against the man’s chest. “I’m not—just stop, alright?”

But the man didn’t stop. Instead, he leaned in, capturing Tommy’s mouth in a hard, forceful kiss. The pressure of his lips was overwhelming, silencing Tommy’s protests as the man’s hand slid down to grip his ass firmly.

Tommy let out a muffled sound of protest, his hands pushing harder against the man’s chest, but his strength was fleeting. The alcohol coursing through his veins left his movements sluggish and uncoordinated, his mind hazy and slow to react.

“Relax,” the man said against his lips, his free hand sliding under the hem of Tommy’s untucked shirt to graze the bare skin of his lower back. “You’re just nervous. I’ll make it good for you.”

Tommy turned his head, breaking the kiss as he shook it weakly. “No… I don’t want—”

The man silenced him again, this time by nipping at the side of his jaw, his lips trailing down to the sensitive spot just below Tommy’s ear. His grip on Tommy’s ass tightened, pulling their bodies closer together.

Tommy’s breathing hitched sharply, a soft, involuntary moan escaping his lips as the man’s teeth grazed his skin. His head spinning not just from the alcohol but from the intensity of the moment. His body felt disconnected from his mind, and his protests faltered. For a fleeting moment, he stopped resisting, his hands dropping limply to his sides.

The sound seemed to spur the man on. He smirked against his neck, sensing the shift. “That’s it,” he murmured, his voice smug and coaxing. “I knew you wanted this. Just like that. Let it happen.”

Tommy shivered, his chest rising and falling unevenly. He wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol clouding his judgment or the overpowering weight of the man’s presence, but for a moment, he didn’t push back. His protests faltered as a wave of disoriented emotion surged through him. Desperate for something he couldn’t name. Maybe if he leaned into this—into him—it would quiet the ache. Tommy tilted his head back and leaned forward, pressing his lips to the man’s in a clumsy, uncoordinated kiss.

The man grinned against his lips, one hand sliding further down Tommy’s back while the other cupped his jaw to keep him close. “See?” he murmured, pulling back just enough to speak. “You’re into it. You don’t have to pretend anymore.”

One hand slid lower, undoing the button of Tommy’s jeans with practiced ease.

Tommy flinched at the action, his hands coming up weakly to push at the man’s chest. “Wait, uh—” he started, his voice barely above a whisper.

The man grabbed Tommy’s wrists with his free hand, pinning them against the wall beside his head. “Stop pretending,” he murmured, his voice low and smug. “You don’t have to play hard to get anymore.”

Tommy’s head lolled slightly, his eyes fluttering shut as confusion and exhaustion clouded his thoughts.

“Hey!”

The voice was sharp, cutting through the haze like a knife. The man froze, his hand stalling mid-movement as both he and Tommy turned toward the interruption.

The man stopped, his scowl deepening as someone tried to step between him and Tommy.

“Let him go.”

“What’s your problem, man?” the guy shot back, his grip still tight on Tommy’s waist. “Mind your business.”

The person didn’t flinch, their stance firm and unwavering. “He’s my business. And he said no. So, let him go. Now.”

The man scoffed, his sneer widening. “He’s into it. We’re just having a good time. Right?” He looked at Tommy, whose head lolled slightly as he struggled to focus.

Tommy blinked sluggishly, his body swaying as he processed the question. “Uh… yeah,” he mumbled, the words barely coherent.

The man smirked triumphantly, tightening his grip on Tommy’s arm.

But then, Tommy’s lips parted again, a faint flicker of recognition cutting through the haze as he murmured, barely audible, “Evan…?”

The man frowned, glancing back at the newcomer—Buck. “Fuck off. This has nothing to do with you.” His hand tightened on Tommy’s arm, trying to pull him away.

Tommy winced, his body swaying.

The tension in the air snapped.

“I said, let him go.” Buck’s voice was low and dangerous now, and before the man could react, his fist connected with his jaw in a clean, decisive punch.

The man staggered back, his hand flying up to his face as he let out a curse. “You son of a—”

“You’re done,” Buck snapped, his voice a sharp edge.

The man hesitated, his eyes darting between them. He muttered another curse, but this time he took a step back, rubbing his jaw before storming off into the crowd.

Tommy stumbled as the grip on his arm disappeared, but strong hands caught him before he could fall.

“Evan…?” Tommy slurred again, his voice barely above a whisper as he blinked up at the person now holding him steady.

Buck’s jaw tightened, his protective stance softening as he steadied Tommy with a firm grip. “Yeah, Tommy. It’s me.”

Buck’s eyes dropped briefly to Tommy’s disheveled appearance—his shirt untucked and his jeans still undone. Silently, Buck adjusted the hem of Tommy’s shirt, smoothing it back into place. Then, with careful, efficient movements, he fastened the button on Tommy’s jeans and pulled up the zipper. His touch was steady and unhurried. Tommy didn’t protest, his body leaning limply into Buck’s care.

“There,” Buck said softly, his hands brushing Tommy’s arms briefly. “Okay, Let’s get you out of here.”

The car ride was tense. Tommy leaned against the window, his face turned away from Buck.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Tommy muttered, his voice pouty and petulant.

Buck glanced at him briefly, frowning. “Do what?”

Tommy turned his head, his cheeks flushed. “Interfere. I had it under control.”

Buck let out a sharp breath, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. “He was dragging you to the bathrooms, Tommy. That’s not under control.”

Tommy pouted, his voice stubborn. “I wanted it.”

“No, you didn’t,” Buck said, his frustration slipping through.

“I did!” Tommy snapped, his voice cracking. “I wanted to feel something. You didn’t have to take it away.”

Buck glanced at him again, his voice dropping. “Tommy, he was taking advantage of you. I wasn’t going to let that happen.”

Tommy scoffed, his voice sharp and cutting. “What, couldn’t stand seeing me with someone else?”

Buck blinked, momentarily stunned. “What!” he snapped, his voice louder than he intended, before catching himself. His grip on the wheel tightened as he exhaled sharply, his tone more controlled now. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

Tommy turned back to the window, pressing his forehead against the glass mumbling, “Maybe I wanted to be taken advantage of,” he mumbled, his voice quiet and bitter. “That’s what I’m good for anyway.”

Buck’s jaw clenched, his grip almost breaking the wheel as a wave of frustration and hurt washed over him. He said nothing for the rest of the drive.

Once inside Tommy’s house, Buck guided him to the couch. Tommy flopped onto the cushions with a heavy sigh, letting his head fall back. He stared up at the ceiling, his chest rising and falling unevenly.

“You don’t have to stay,” Tommy muttered, his voice thick with exhaustion and alcohol.

“I’m not leaving you until you sober up a little,” Buck said, grabbing a blanket from the back of the couch and draping it over Tommy, who barely acknowledged it.

Tommy sat up suddenly, his movements unsteady and jerky. His glassy eyes locked onto Buck’s, and for a moment, he just stared at him. Then, his lips twisted into a bitter smile.

“Why not?” Tommy asked, his voice trembling. “Because you feel sorry for me?”

Buck crouched in front of him, resting his hands on his knees. His expression soft as he said quietly, “No, Tommy. Because I care about you.”

Tommy let out a bitter laugh, the sound sharp and broken. “You care about me?” he echoed, his voice rising slightly. “Then why did you let me leave? Why’d you let me push you away?”

“Tommy,” Buck began, but Tommy cut him off.

“No!” Tommy snapped, his voice cracking. “Don’t give me that look again. I know, okay? I know I fucked it all up. I know I ruined everything!”

Buck’s heart ached at the raw pain in Tommy’s voice. He reached out, his hand hovering just inches away, but Tommy jerked back, clutching the edges of the blanket tightly. His hands shook, and his eyes darted away, unable to meet Buck’s gaze.

For a moment, Tommy sat in silence, his breaths uneven and shallow. His knuckles whitened as he gripped the blanket like a lifeline, his lips pressing into a thin line. Buck exhaled softly, standing up to give Tommy some space, his movements hesitant, as if he wasn’t sure what he should do.

Tommy’s gaze flickered toward him briefly, his expression unreadable before he looked away again. The quiet stretched between them, heavy and suffocating.

Then, Tommy’s voice broke the silence, barely above a whisper. “You took it from me,” he said, his tone fragile, as if the words themselves might shatter him.

Buck frowned, his brows knitting together. “What are you talking about?”

Tommy’s eyes filled with tears, and his voice cracked as he said, “That guy. You took him away, so—so give me this. Please.” His voice wavered, his tone desperate, as he reached out, his trembling hand brushing against the buckle of Buck’s belt.

Buck stared at him, stunned. “Tommy, no. That’s not—”

“I won’t tell anyone,” Tommy whispered, his voice breaking. His glassy eyes locked onto Buck’s, his desperation palpable. “No one has to know. Just… please.”

Buck froze, his breath catching as the weight of Tommy’s words crashed over him. His stomach churned, his heart breaking at the sheer hopelessness in Tommy’s voice.

“I’m sober now, I promise,” Tommy said suddenly, his voice shaking as he gripped Buck’s shirt with trembling hands. “I know what I’m saying. I do.”

Buck’s brow furrowed, his heart twisting at the clear lie. He gently caught Tommy’s wrist. “Tommy, stop. You’re not sober, and this isn’t about anyone else. It’s about you. You’re hurting, and—”

“Please, Evan,” Tommy interrupted, his voice cracking as his hands fisted in Buck’s shirt. His grip was tight, frantic, as though letting go would mean losing everything. “You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to take him away and leave me with nothing. Just—just give me this. Let me have this.”

Buck opened his mouth to respond, but before he could say anything, Tommy surged forward, his hands gripping Buck’s shirt tightly. With surprising strength for someone so unsteady, Tommy tugged Buck downward, closing the distance between them and pressing their lips together in a desperate kiss.

For a moment, Buck froze. Then, against his better judgment, he leaned into the kiss, his hands landing lightly on Tommy’s hips. Tommy clung to him like he was drowning, his fingers twisting in Buck’s shirt as he deepened the kiss, pouring all his heartbreak and longing into it.

But then Buck’s mind caught up with his emotions. He felt the trembling in Tommy’s body, the dampness of the tears on his cheeks. This wasn’t right.

Buck pulled back slightly, his hands gently wrapping around Tommy’s wrists to lower them. “Tommy, stop, no,” he said, his voice steady but filled with emotion

Tommy shook his head, his tears falling freely now. “Why not?” he cried, his voice breaking. “Because I’m pathetic? Because I ruined everything?”

“No,” Buck said softly, cupping Tommy’s face. His thumbs brushed away the tears that streaked Tommy’s cheeks. “Because you deserve more than this. We both do.”

But Tommy wasn’t ready to give up. He clung to Buck’s shirt, his grip tight and frantic. “I need you,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “Please, Evan. Just—just make me feel something. Anything.”

“Tommy…” Buck’s voice broke slightly, his own eyes starting to sting as he fought back the swell of emotion. “I can’t. Not like this.”

“Please,” Tommy whispered against his lips, his voice so weak it was almost inaudible. “I can’t—I can’t do this alone anymore.”

Buck’s breath hitched, his heart breaking at the desperation in Tommy’s voice. “You don’t have to,” he murmured. “I’m here Tommy.”

Tommy let out a choked sob, collapsing against Buck’s chest. “I don’t know how to fix it,” he whispered, his words muffled against Buck’s shirt. “I don’t know how to fix me.”

Buck’s arms instinctively wrapped around him, holding him close, but before he could respond, Tommy tilted his head up. His warm, uneven breath brushed against Buck’s neck.

“I just—I feel so broken,” Tommy murmured, his lips grazing Buck’s skin as he spoke. His hands slid up Buck’s chest. “You make it better, Evan. You always made it better. Just… let me have this.”

Buck froze as he felt Tommy press a soft, lingering kiss to the side of his neck.

“Please,” Tommy whispered, his voice trembling. His lips moved against Buck’s skin, trailing kisses up toward his jaw. “I need you. Just for tonight. Please…”

“Tommy,” Buck said, his voice breaking, a mixture of pain and restraint. “This isn’t the way. You know it’s not.”

Tommy ignored him, his tears still falling as he clung to Buck with desperate strength. “Why not?” he whispered, repeating the question again and again, his voice cracking. “Why not me? Why can’t I be enough for you?”

Buck pulled back slightly, cupping Tommy’s face in his hands to make him stop. “That’s not what this is about, Tommy. You are enough. You’ve always been enough.”

Tommy shook his head, his teary eyes locking onto Buck’s. “Then why did you leave? Why didn’t you fight for me? For us?”

Buck’s heart ached at the raw vulnerability in Tommy’s words, but a flicker of anger rose at the unfairness of his accusation, tightening his jaw. “I didn’t leave,” he said quietly. “You’re the one who left, Tommy. And it killed me, but I swallowed it—because I thought it’s what you wanted.”

Tommy’s lip trembled, and he tried to lean in again, his mouth brushing against Buck’s. “Then take me back,” he pleaded. “Take me back, Evan. I’ll do better. I’ll be better. Just—just don’t leave me alone.”

Buck caught his hands, stopping him before their lips could meet. “Tommy,” he said, his voice firm but trembling slightly. “I can’t—not like this. You’re hurting, and you’re not thinking straight. I won’t take advantage of this. You mean too much to me.” He paused, his eyes shining with unshed tears as he added, “Tomorrow, if you still want to—if you remember—we’ll talk. Properly. You and I will fix things.”

Tommy let out a strangled sob, burying his face in Buck’s shoulder. “I don’t know how to fix it—me,” he repeated, his voice breaking. “I don’t even know where to start. I keep trying, and I keep failing. I’m so tired, Evan. I’m so tired of failing.”

Buck’s arms tightened around him, his hand running soothingly up and down Tommy’s back. “You don’t have to fix everything tonight,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “You don’t have to do it alone, either.”

Tommy clung to him like a lifeline, his fingers digging into Buck’s back as he cried quietly. “I just want to be enough for someone,” he whispered, his voice raw. “For you.”

Buck pulled back slightly, brushing the tears from Tommy’s cheeks with his thumbs. “Tommy, you’ve always been enough,” he said softly. “You just have to believe it.”

Tommy closed his eyes, leaning into Buck’s touch. For the first time that night, he stopped trying to fight or plead. He let out a shaky breath as his body relaxed slightly in Buck’s embrace, though his breathing hitched unevenly. His sobs grew quieter but more erratic, his body still trembling with the weight of his emotions.

Eventually, exhaustion took over. Between the waves of violent sobbing, Tommy began to doze off, his grip on Buck’s shirt loosening but not letting go entirely. Even in sleep, his body shuddered occasionally, and soft, broken sobs escaped his lips.

Buck stayed with him, his arms still wrapped securely around Tommy, offering what comfort he could. He watched as Tommy’s tears continued to slip down his cheeks, even in sleep.

Buck’s heart ached, a deep, overwhelming weight pressing against his chest. He leaned his forehead against Tommy’s for a moment, closing his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he whispered , his voice breaking. “I’m sorry for everything—what happened tonight, that guy and what he tried to do, for not seeing how much you’ve been hurting, for not being there when you needed me most.”

After a while, Buck gently shifted Tommy onto the couch, making sure he was lying comfortably. He tucked the blanket around him, brushing stray strands of hair from his tear-streaked face.

Tommy stirred slightly, his lips parting to mumble something. A soft sob escaped him, even in his unconscious state.

Buck stood there for a moment, watching him. The sight was almost too much to bear. Finally, he turned and quietly slipped out of the house, leaving a glass of water and a folded note on the coffee table.

Tommy woke up on the couch, his head pounding like a drum and his mouth as dry as sandpaper. A dull ache radiated behind his eyes, making him squint against the faint light streaming in through the window. His stomach churned violently, the nausea hitting him hard and fast.

He spotted a glass of water and a neatly folded note on the coffee table, but before he could even reach for them, his body lurched, and he barely had time to scramble off the couch. Stumbling toward the bathroom, he gripped the doorframe as he heaved into the toilet, his entire body trembling from the effort.

When it finally subsided, he sank back against the wall, his breathing ragged. “For fuck’s sake,” he muttered to himself, his voice hoarse. “ugh at 40, I have to stop drinking. At all.”

The sour taste in his mouth only added to the misery, and he wiped his face with the back of his hand before dragging himself back toward the couch, eyeing the water like it was a lifeline.

He collapsed onto the cushions, letting his head fall back with a groan. The pounding in his skull hadn’t subsided, but it wasn’t just the hangover gnawing at him. Flashes of the previous night flickered in his mind—disjointed and hazy, but heavy enough to make his chest tighten.

He leaned forward carefully, his hands trembling as he reached for the folded note. His name stared back at him in Buck’s familiar handwriting.

Tommy, Get some rest and drink plenty of water. Call me if you need anything. but Tommy... please don’t call me if you don’t remember last night, or if you didn’t mean the things you said. - Buck Evan

He stared at the note, more fragments of the night before flashing through his mind. Buck’s arms around him, his steady voice grounding him, the gentle way he wiped away his tears. The memory made his chest ache, but it also sparked something else—a flicker of warmth he hadn’t felt in a long time.

But then other memories surfaced—hazy and disjointed, but vivid enough to twist his stomach. The man at the bar, his smug grin, and the way Tommy had clung to him, desperate to feel anything that might fill the emptiness inside. He remembered Buck stepping in, the sharp sound of his voice, and the flash of anger in his eyes.

And then—Tommy swallowed hard—the way he’d begged Buck, the way he’d reached for him, grasping at something he couldn’t name, pleading for something Buck couldn’t give. Shame curled in his chest, tangling with the lingering ache of loneliness and regret.

He let out a shaky breath, staring at the note again. Buck had been there. He’d stayed, even when Tommy had fallen apart. But had he stayed out of care… or obligation? The thought gnawed at him, leaving him feeling exposed.

His gaze drifted back to the glass of water on the table, the simplest of gestures that felt heavier than it should. He picked it up and took a few sips, the cool liquid doing little to soothe the dryness in his throat or the weight in his chest.

Fragments of the night before continued to flicker through his mind, uninvited and relentless. The man at the bar, his smug touch. The desperate words he’d hurled at Buck. The way Buck had looked at him—not with pity, but something deeper, steadier.

Tommy rubbed a hand over his face, groaning softly. What if Buck regretted staying? What if the note was just a polite way of drawing a line? The thought made his stomach twist.

And yet, despite the shame, despite the uncertainty, the pull to hear Buck’s voice was stronger.

Tommy reached for his phone, his hands trembling slightly. His thumb hovered over Buck’s name in his contacts. He hesitated, the words he wanted to say swirling in his mind but refusing to settle.

Finally, he typed:

Hey, coffee? Our regular place?

He stared at the message for a long moment, his heart pounding as he debated whether to press send. His finger hovered over the button, and then, with a deep breath, he tapped it.

The message sent, and he immediately felt a wave of nerves wash over him. What if Buck didn’t respond? What if last night had been too much? What if he’d just made everything worse?

But before he could spiral further, his phone buzzed in his hand.

Of course.

Tommy blinked, staring at the reply. It had come almost instantly, and the simplicity of it made his chest tighten, an ache that was equal parts relief and uncertainty.

He exhaled shakily, a small, hesitant smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

It wasn’t much. It wasn’t a declaration or a promise to fix everything. But it was something…

A step forward.

#bucktommy #tommy kinard #evan buckley #*

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bokutoko · 10 months ago

Note

hello!! i really enjoyed your writing for kita! i was wondering if i can request one where reader (fem) gets really emotional over little things (ex. smth doesn’t go as planned) and kita comforts her?

ꜱᴍɪʟᴇ

character: shinsuke kita (timeskip!kita)

wc: 792

content/warning(s): emotional dysregulation, slight cursing; there's a reason your boyfriend is the farmer and not you...

a/n: hi anon!! thank you so much for the love and the req🫶🏻 this was healing for me to write bc i tend to get emotional over the little things sometimes too. i hope i did our fav rice farmer justice once again <333

Growing up around his grandmother, Kita always had a green thumb. Ever since he was taught that all life was built by small, daily acts, he was always patient with his crops. He made sure to be thorough with maintenance all throughout harvest—up until they reach the consumer’s hands. Because of this, he ensured the highest quality of rice.

You, on the other hand, were not-so secretly known as every plant’s worst nightmare. Of course, you didn’t mean to kill all your plants, they just always somehow died!

But you decided to give it another shot. Watching Kita work so hard outside made you feel confident; if he could manage countless acres of land, you could handle a little garden. You excitedly picked out your favorite fruit and vegetable seeds from the local market, and Kita was happy to build you a little enclosure for your plants.

Now here you were, standing before your little plots of soil with tears in your eyes. You’d tried so hard, but you forgot to water them for one day, and to just your luck, they all died due to an unforeseen heatwave in Hyogo.

“What the actual fuck?” Huffing in frustration, your eyes squeezed shut, letting the first couple tears fall. Despite the extreme heat, a cold, harsh wave of embarrassment washed over you, and you couldn’t help but feel like a complete failure for messing this up. How was it possible that your boyfriend managed the entire farm, having a near-perfect harvest every year, and you couldn’t even take care of a 6x10-ft plot?

—

Out in the fields, Kita removed his cap, wiped the sweat from his forehead, and looked to the sky. With sunset approaching, he began his trek back home to see you after a long, satisfying day’s work—just a couple more months until harvest.

As he stepped into the clearing behind your home, he was expecting to see you waiting for him with your usual bright smile that still made his heart skip a beat. But instead, you were standing with your back to him and your hands on your hips.

Uh oh. He walked up behind you, calling, “Evenin’, darlin’.”

You shot around, and he took note of the tear stains that you quickly wiped away. “Hi, Shin,” you greeted with the slightest quiver in your voice.

“Everythin’ okay?” He looked down at your little plants that were vaporized from the sun, then back to you, noticing your glistening eyes.

“Why do all plants hate me?”

“Ya know plants can’t hate ya.”

“It sure feels like they do!” you snapped, immediately feeling guilty for your attitude when Kita did nothing wrong. You were well aware, as was Kita, when spurts of overwhelming emotions engulfed you—whether happy, sad, angry, embarrassed—your instinct reactions were to either get snappy or briefly cry. Or both, in this case.

Kita watched as fresh, hot tears rolled down your face as you whispered a soft, genuine “I’m sorry,” and he stepped forward to comfort you. You immediately wrapped your arms around his waist and smushed your face into his chest in defeat, mumbling, “I feel so dumb, Shin. What the hell am I doing wrong?”

Always to your rescue, Kita removed his gloves to gently tip your chin up to look into his pretty brown eyes. “Yer not dumb or doin’ anythin’ wrong. Sometimes, plants don’t sprout, an’ sometimes, the ones that do just die. Ain’t nothin’ else about it,” he assured as a gentle thumb wiped your eyes. “Somethin’ as small as this sure ain’t worth yer tears, though.”

You shut your eyes and released a small sigh, your bottom lip jutting out. “I know.”

Kita leaned forward and pressed three tender kisses against your forehead, signifying three words: I love you. “We can always plant some more. We can go ta the market tomorrow an’ pick out more o’the seeds ya want,” he suggested, “and I can help ya take care of ‘em.”

“But you already do so much for me,” you objected.

“It ain’t a big ask, sweetheart,” he reasoned with a loving gaze, “and ya know I’d do anythin’ ta see ya smile.”

You squished your face into his chest in a tight hug again. “You’re kinda cheesy, Shin,” you teased as you hid your reddening cheeks.

He chuckled, grateful that the slight sun on his face hid his own blush, muttering, “Guess I am.“

From that day on, Kita never forgot to give your garden a little extra love in the mornings before tending to the farm. It was worth seeing your big, proud grin when it was time to pick your first round of thriving produce.

And to Kita, anything was worth doing to keep a smile on your face.

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please do not copy, alter, or repost my work. ©bokutoko 2024.

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idunnoficsorsumthing · 2 years ago

Text

Lost the bet

Pairings: Topper Thornton x reader; Rafe Cameron x reader

Summary: Rafe and Topper make a bet.

Warnings: 18+ sex scenes are described so MINORS DO NOT interact. Cheating? unlikeable characters?

The summer had cast a relentless warmth upon the coastal town, and as your boyfriend, Topper, draped his arm casually over your shoulders, the heat seemed even more stifling. Across from you sat Rafe, his gaze a simmering mixture of intensity and tension. The trio was gathered around a weathered wooden table on the terrace, but the atmosphere was far from relaxed.

Topper and Rafe were locked in a heated discussion, a bet that revolved around surfing, and your gut instincts urged you to intervene. "Let's make it five hundred," Topper proposed, the words hanging in the humid air. Rafe's eyes remained fixated on you, a glance that stirred both heat and unease within you. You couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of embarrassment as his gaze bore into your very core.

Then, without warning, Rafe's voice cut through the thick air. "Sex," he declared, his tone dripping with confidence. "If you win, you get five hundred, but if I win, I want sex." The unexpected proposition hung in the air, casting a palpable tension over the table. Kelce, a friend who had been listening in, couldn't help but burst into laughter. "A threesome, huh?" Topper quipped, a touch of unwillingness in his voice.

You felt compelled to voice your objections, but before you could interject, Topper and Rafe sealed the deal with a firm handshake. Desperation welled up within you. "Top, can I talk to you?" you implored, prompting a reluctant nod from him. The two of you retreated from the terrace, seeking a quieter corner to hash things out.

"What the hell, Topper?" you exclaimed, your frustration evident as you slapped his arm. "I can't believe you agreed to this."

"I'm not going to lose this," he retorted, an air of unwavering confidence in his tone.

"Calm down," he urged, though it was clear you were far from calm yourself. For the next ten minutes, you engaged in a passionate discussion about the value of women and relationships, your words aimed at conveying the sacredness of intimacy. Despite your heated exchange, you couldn't shake the sense of discomfort that had settled within you.

In the following days, you kept your distance from Topper. You refrained from wishing him good luck and gave him the cold shoulder, struggling to determine your course of action. Should you break up with him, unable to get over his lack of protectiveness of your intimacy with him? Or should you stay and to be alright with the result of the bet as the thought of Rafe's hunger-filled gaze haunting your thoughts?

That day, the inevitable call came. "I'm sorry, babe," Topper's voice was laced with worry, as if bracing for another round of your anger. "I tried to get him to accept money," he added, sounding somewhat defeated. "But he insists on the 'prize.'"

You took a deep breath and finally conceded, "Okay, fine." Silence hung on the line. "But it's all about you, babe," Topper assured, trying to alleviate your dread.

When the day arrived, Topper left the room momentarily, claiming he needed condoms from the bathroom. Left alone with Rafe, his darkened gaze and proximity intensified your unease. You had seen that look before, but this time, it held an entirely new meaning. "Are you okay with this?" he asked, leaning in close on the couch.

"Does it matter?" you responded with a shrug, downing your drink in a single gulp. He didn't back down, holding your chin and forcing you to meet his gaze. His words hung heavily in the air, causing your heart to race. "So, Y/n, do you want my cock?" he asked, his voice thick with desire. Your breath hitched as his words stirred a hunger deep within you, an unprecedented longing.

"I need words," Rafe demanded, and you could only nod in response. "Yes, Rafe," you whispered, the tension in the room palpable. As his lips met yours, desire ignited, and you found yourself craving his touch more than ever.

You hadn't even noticed that Topper had returned, though you were too consumed by the escalating intimacy. "You guys started without me?" he remarked casually, reclining on the bed beside you. His hands began to explore beneath your shirt, planting kisses on your exposed skin. You felt a pang of guilt for the conflicting desires coursing through your body.

As the duo helped you undress, Topper's urgency was evident. Rafe, on the other hand, seemed wholly captivated by your naked form, and you couldn't help but feel a heady mixture of exposure and exhilaration. "I want a taste," Rafe declared, his desire evident in his gaze, while Topper sat nearby, his arousal evident, awaiting his own pleasure.

You find yourself caught in a whirlwind of sensations, your lips bitten in a futile attempt to stifle the peak of your pleasure. Rafe's ability to make you feel like you are about to cum so quickly reduced you to whimpers. "Please, Rafe," your voice trembling. But he responds not with words, but with his tongue against you.

"Are you going to cum for Rafe, babe?" Topper asks as he forces your hand which had slowed down as your pleasure increases. "Oh my god, RAFE," you moan as your legs quiver, Rafe persisting in his movements until your release.

Rafe rises from the floor, his imposing presence looming over your exposed form. Your hand instinctively reaches for his belt, a desire to reciprocate the pleasure. Topper's presences fades in your mind as you assist Rafe in removing his clothes. Your gaze fixates on his arousal, your fingers inching towards it with intention to provide satisfaction. However, he stops you. "So eager to please me," he murmurs, glancing towards Topper for the first time that evening. "You see how much she wants my cock, like a whore," he adds, a smile appearing on his face expecting to get his turn soon. Topper stood up from the bed. “So how do you want to do this?” Topper asked. Rafe stopped acknowledging Topper again. Instead he came in for a kiss again, and you felt your own arousal rise up in you again. The thought of him inside you, pleasuring you, fucking hard causing your shut legs to squeeze together. Rafe pushes them open again, allowing him to rub his cock against your wetness sending shivers down your spine as it was still sensitive. "Are you a good girl? Ready for my cock?" he rasps, to which your response is a whimper as he gradually eases into you. Though the initial discomfort sends twinges of pain, the ensuing union soon overtakes you in waves of pleasure.

The symphony of your shared passion inadvertently incites Topper's protest. "Hey man, the deal wasn't for you to have sex with my girlfriend," Topper interjects. Rafe's halt in movement causes a discontented moan from you. "Oh, I didn't realize you were so desperate for me. Would you prefer my dick inside you?" Rafe retorts sharply, the aching need within you causing you to reluctantly concur, "Top, just sit down. You'll get your turn," you sigh. Defeated Topper sat down on the ottoman.

You remain silent towards Rafe after experiencing three climaxes that night, a couple of days ago. It was a contrast from the meager satisfaction Topper typically offers. As you arrive at the country club where Rafe and Topper are enjoying beers on the terrace, you divert from your regular seat beside Topper, opting instead to settle beside Rafe. "Hey, Y/n," Topper greets you, "can you come sit here?" but Rafe's hand claims your thigh, hinting that he wishes you to remain where you are.

As the night progresses and the drinks keep flowing, Rafe's attentiveness towards you becomes increasingly more obvious. He whispers sensually in your ear, provoking Topper's growing discontent. It was then that Topper couldn’t take it anymore, and asked to speak to you. The two of you retreat to a spot near the exit, reminded of your heated argument about the threesome just a week prior. Though your voices remain hushed, your table's view allows them to witness the exchange.

"You and Rafe look cozy," Topper sneers, to which you merely shrug. Deep down, you've already realized your hesitation to continue with Topper. However, you've postponed a breakup, fearing it may be driven by anger and filled with regret. "I don't get it, Y/n. You were so opposed against the threesome, yet you clearly loved being fucked by Rafe," Topper accuses, his tone filled with frustration. "That's not fair," you protest. "What's not fair is you being fucked by him and not wanting me," he retorts, prompting a scoff from you. "It's not my fault Rafe is some kind of orgasm god, okay?" you argue. His gaze narrows as it shifts between his friend and you. "He couldn't have been that good," he challenges, only to have you look him square in the eyes and declare, "Topper, I think we should break up." The message is clear in your stern gaze. "You're a goddamn whore!" Topper yells, a painful sting accompanying his words, and tears prickling your eyes.

"Do not talk to her like that!" Rafe's unmistakable voice cuts through the tension as he rushes to your defense. Topper warns him to stay out of it, but Rafe, driven by a surge of anger, delivers a punch that sends Topper staggering backward, groaning in pain.

"Jesus, Rafe!" you shrieked, your frustration reaching a boiling point. You couldn't contain your anger any longer, and it was directed at both of them. With a huff of exasperation, you turned your back on the two men and stormed off, your footsteps echoing your fury.

Let me know if anyone wants a part 2 or if it is better just like this.

#topper thornton #topper thornton x reader #topper thornton smut #rafe outer banks #rafe obx #rafe x reader #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron #rafe cameron obx #rafe imagine #rafe fanfiction

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purplesoulcollection · 8 months ago

Text

Losing A Chess Game

Hello, here i am with Lloyd Frontera oneshot story again...

Please stay tune to read the story...

"And then, I checkmated you." Said by Lloyd with his devil face to me.

Lloyd places his horse down and kicks my king, which unintentionally ends up in a position vulnerable to an attack from a pawn.

Why it comes like this...?

I cry out in frustration at the sight of this unjust result. This marks the seventh time I've experienced a loss from him.

I'm feeling quite bored at first, with nothing thrilling on the horizon. I lied down in Lloyd house with him also in his room.

It just so happens that Lloyd has no plans for building or scheming something fun(so evil for others) .

Out of this boredom, I suddenly came up with the idea for a simple games which doesn't tire me out.

Not him, because he's having extra power to keep him energized.

Then Lloyd suggested that we should play chess.

I agreed because chess is one of my favourite board games. I also usually won with other people in the village, so I have confidence to won with Lloyd.

Then the idiot thing is, I have challenged him too many times and tried to defeat him with my intelligence.

But the sad part is, I always had ended up to be the one to losing.

He really smart to outsmart me who did my best.

"Hugh Lloyd. I really believed that I could finally secure a victory against you this time. However, it seems I'm still not clever enough to compete with you in the chess."

The sound of my surrender finally escaped my lips. I let go of him.

From the very start, defeating him felt impossible; he was a cunning conman who had tricked many people, even the queen didn't get away from him, and possessed a wealth of cleverness.

This is my fault, It was all my fault from the start who agreed to the idea of his evil scheming game.

I run to the bed and hugged the pillow. I'm so frustrated, I don't want to see his face for a while. I'm angry at him.

"Name, you didn't forget our agreement, right? " He didn't even try to comfort me first, but suddenly request his reward.

I bite my lips, feeling unfair for myself.

From the start of the game, Lloyd already request so many damnit request.

Massage him, act a funny scene I remember, cosplayed, sing the Lloyd's praises, dance the weird one, said love you to Lloyd ten times with the loud voice, I think the last one can be heard to everyone in this house.

And this is the last one because I already give up.

He opened his arm. And I fell to him. His reward now is only a hug, because I already so ashamed to shout out his reward.

"Sorry but also not sorry, Name. " He spoke so slowly in my ears, but he didn't apologize at all.

"You're so cruel, Lloyd. You didn't let me have any chance to win. "

"What's reward for me if I do that, darling? "

He put his face to my shoulders, not giving a chance to me to seeing his face. Here it is...

This is the negotiation battle for me, to fight this demon king!

"If you do that, I'll be nicely ask you to going date to date with me?"

"Still not enough... "

"I also will not complain with you if you're busy with your work and your project!"

But he only shake his head, "Don't wanna, you'll forget me..."

True, because he's always busy. This is actually the rare time he's being free.

"Um... I'll kiss you!?"

"Where?"

"Cheeks or forehead?"

"Lips." He's muffled his voice but i still can heard it.

"LLOYD!!"

He finally show his face with his pissed off face, "You're the one who tried to negotiate with me. Deal or no deal, choose now right away!"

Feeling overwhelmed by the situation, I hurriedly gave my response. "Okay, deal, deal. I want it! "

"You're the one who wants the deal, Name."

We jumped straight into the game, and it's absolutely true that he loosened his defense, creating a big opening for me to launch an attack on his king.

When I noticed the opportunity, I gazed at him in astonishment and a bit of embarrassment. He just smiled at me with a playful grin, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

When I win, I finally be able to tell Lloyd that I beat him for the very first time—what an achievement for me!

I completely ignore the payment i have to pay for him, at least for awhile...

"Name?"

His smug face even when he's losing from me really pissed me off. Why am I being agreed with his scheme earlier?

But the deal with Lloyd better be completed as quickly as possible before he himself take care of it. It won't be a pretty sight.

I finally giving up, close my eyes first and kissing him. He received my kiss with the ease. I enjoy the sensation of the warm and wet lips with Lloyd. I also put my hand around his shoulders. He also do the same thing as me.

This is not our first kiss and not to be the last time either.

When i feel this is enough and want to remove, finally Lloyd the one who trapped me to still kissing. I quickly became overwhelmed with his aggressive kiss, he finally break through my mouth with his tongue.

His tongue force me to adapt with his tongue and i feeling that he's stealing my oxygen.

So finally i give the signal to stop the kissing and he obey me.

He seems perfectly fine while I was catching my breath and taking in all the oxygen I needed. This is still unfair to me in many ways.

"This is the first time you’ve taken the lead in kissing me." He's being mean to me, so quickly forget our little deal earlier.

I just let out a sigh for my injustice and said, "You know, sometimes I have to take the first step for this relationship."

He only grinning sweetly to me. This not-so-lovable-man-but-still-the-one-i-loved.

The End

#fanfic #x reader #manhwa #manhwa x reader #reader insert #the greatest estate developer #the greatest estate designer #lloyd frontera #tged #fluff #oneshot

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holdupjack · 1 year ago

Text

I Thought Of You As…

——————

Pairing: Hermione Granger x Fem!Reader

WARNING: None

——————

Third Person P.O.V:

Y/n had been wandering around the school grounds for what felt like hours, searching for Hermione after the disastrous confrontation with Ron at the Yule Ball. The air was chilly and the sky was dimly lit, creating an eerie atmosphere that only added to Y/n's growing sense of anxiety and frustration.

With each passing minute, it felt like the chances of finding Hermione were dwindling, and Y/n couldn't help but wonder if she was even still on school grounds. Despite the overwhelming feeling of defeat, Y/n refused to give up and continued her search, determined to find her friend no matter how long it took.

She had disappeared rather quickly. The argument that had taken place near that stairwell could be heard by almost everyone in the vicinity.

The tension was palpable, and it seemed like the discussion had been brewing for a while. Despite Y/n's best efforts to reach her, the other person seemed determined to avoid any further confrontation and left the area swiftly.

Y/n's ears perked up as she heard the sound of soft sniffling coming from a nearby stairway, causing her to pause in her tracks.

Curiosity getting the better of her, she carefully made her way towards the sound, peeking around the corner to see the brunette, still dressed in her delicate pink gown, sitting on the steps with her head in her hands.

The dim light cast a soft glow over the scene and Y/n couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for the girl.

As their eyes met, she noticed the tell-tale signs of distress on Hermione's face.

"Hey...are you okay?" Y/n asked. Hermione tried to compose herself, but her emotions got the better of her as a fresh wave of tears threatened to spill over.

Quickly wiping her face, she put on a brave smile, attempting to hide her true feelings.

"Not really, no," she says with a chuckle as Y/n walks over and takes a seat beside her, sighing softly.

"I'm sorry, that was a stupid question," Y/n says as they both fall into a comfortable silence. Hermione continued to sniffle and wipe her eyes.

Y/n and Hermione had been friends for a while, and it was no secret that Y/n found the Gryffindor very attractive. It was a playful tease that most of their friends played on her.

Hermione has asked around the subject a few times when she initially found out about the teasing, but Y/n never spoke to her about it. Refused even!

It was obvious that Y/n had no plans of asking her out, so Hermione let it be. Annoyed, but understanding.

She didn't want to make the wrong move or find out that she had misunderstood the entire thing. So, ignorance became her new best friend. But as of recently, she had been having second thoughts about waiting around.

"Do you remember the first time we met?" Y/n blurts out, which she didn't plan on by the look on her face.

"Yes, it was the first year, a little way into the first semester," Hermione said with a small smile as she wiped her eyes, looking down at her lap. Her hands played with the fabric of her dress, she felt the tool tickle the pads of her fingers.

"Now, do you remember when Ginny grabbed me by the lake and dropped me into the water in my second year?" Y/n asks with a smile as Hermione starts to laugh. Her mind remembers vividly the look on Y/n's face when she trudged out of the lake.

"Oh god, why did she drop you into it?" she asks, and Y/n just snickers softly as Hermione leans over and chuckles.

"She wanted to see if she could pick me up while on her broom...then she lost her grip while hovering over the lake." Y/n sighed as Hermione continued to giggle at the memory.

"I think you've seen the better part of my most embarrassing moments in this school," Y/n says with a smile as Hermione nods, sniffling again.

"I have more memories with you than Ron and Harry, surprisingly," she says as she takes another deep breath, trying to shake off the hurt in her chest. Y/n scooted a bit closer and placed her hand on Hermione's shoulder.

"Men aren't worth crying over," she says with a soft smile, making the brunette chuckle as she leans herself closer to Y/n.

"Why are they jerks then?" Hermione asks with a sigh as Y/n wraps her arm around her shoulders.

"Same reason women cry, emotions," Y/n responds as she watches Hermione stay quiet for a moment, before looking back up at her.

“You’re right," she hums as the smell of cinnamon and vanilla hit Y/n’s nose, making her blink in surprise why the soothing scent,

"Want to go back? I think Viktor is waiting for you" Y/n whispers as her hand falls from her shoulder, but Hermione shakes her head as she stands up and brushes off her dress.

"I’m done for one night...would you like to stay in my room for a while? If you would like to that is" She asks as she looks down at Y/n and straightens her back slightly. Nervousness racked through her spine.

“I’d like that a lot actually” Y/n replies quietly as she stands up, watching Hermione start to grin as they begin their walk up to the Gryffindor tower.

——————

As they made their way up to Hermione’s dorm, Y/n couldn’t help but start to think back on all of the times when she questioned if the girl beside her was even interested in her in a romantic sense.

It was hard to tell.

Or Y/n was blinded by any hints she may have given up until this point?

When they had made it to her dorm, it was surprisingly ten times warmer. Y/n noticed the furnace was still running with no one inside.

“Sorry, Ginny hates coming back to the dorm and it’s freezing. That’s why it’s as hot as the sun in here” Hermione chuckled as she placed her tiara on the desk.

“That’s alright,” Y/n says as she sits down on Hermione’s bed and runs her fingers through her hair. Hermione shuffled around for a moment as she grabbed a dry-cleaning garment bag from her closet.

Y/n looked at her hands, her eyes tracing her finger pads as she heard her name called. She looked up to find the brunette grasping her hair to one side with her back turned towards her.

“Can you unzip me?” She asked and Y/n hummed as she stood up. Her shoes squeaked slightly on the wood slope as she walked over took ahold of the zipper and slowly pulled it down.

Y/n looked past her shoulder to find Hermione already looking back at her through the body mirror that hung between the two beds in front of them.

“Thank you,” Hermione says with a small smile, and Y/n just cleared her throat and nodded, looking away as the zipper reached the end. She backed away and sat back on the bed, in the corner of her eye she could see Hermione walking into the bathroom.

When the door shut, Y/n took a breath and rubbed her face with the palms of her hands in a way to calm herself.

After a few minutes of silence, the door reopened and Hermione stepped out in a loose t-shirt and some shorts. Her hair was brushed out of its former hairstyle and now was free to dangle past her shoulders.

She walked back to the closet and hung up her dress, which was now safely sealed away in the garment bag.

“You're quiet,” Hermione says with a smile as she looks over her shoulder and closes the closet door. Y/n shrugged as she leaned back against Hermione's headboard looking at her with a matching grin.

“I was waiting for you. Would you have liked to hear me talk to myself?” Y/n chuckled as Hermione sat next to her and I looked over. Their eyes met and Hermione hummed in thought for a moment.

“What do you talk about?” she asks as their shoulders touch from the small proximity, due to them trying to stay on the twin-sized bed.

“Cursing the people I hate, how to solve world problems, and sometimes pondering if I could survive a life or death situation,” Y/n said with a smile as Hermione looked at her with fondness.

“Would you survive?”

“God no”

Hermione began to laugh as she bumped her shoulder with Y/n’s, now getting a whiff of her Cologne. It caught her attention. It was a heavenly spiced scent.

Their eyes met again as Hermione slowly calmed down from her laughter, she began to think back on the reason Y/n was teased by their friends.

“Y/n, may I ask you a question?” she asks as their arms lean onto one another. Y/n nodded in response as they both looked away from each other.

“Of course, you never need to ask” Y/n chuckled as she leaned her head back on the headboard.

“Well then, why won't you talk about why our friends tease you?” she asks and Y/n lets out a soft chuckle, then a sigh following after.

“That mind of yours never lets go of impertinent questions” Y/n replied as she said down to lay onto the bed, leaving Hermione to look down at her with a raised eyebrow.

They stared at each other for a few minutes, their eyes darting at all the secrets that were cracking through the facade.

Y/n’s eyes kept their gaze on Hermione’s, even though they were still slightly red and puffy from crying, her eyes still held so many unspoken questions.

"Pretty brown eyes and a mind full of thoughts" Y/n whispers under her breath, making Hermione furrow her eyebrows and hum in confusion.

"What?" She asks with a slight chuckle.

"It's a quote I once heard...when I first heard it, I thought of you" Y/n states simply as she looks up at the ceiling.

"People warned me about becoming friends with one of the people in the ‘golden trio’, but I quite enjoy your company." She says, allowing her eyes to wander the ceiling, noticing the beautiful hand-crafted wood that held up the support beams.

"Many thought I was trying to get on your good side, like somehow I was in it for some prize for the long run" Y/n huffed in annoyance as she unbuttoned her suit jacket and laid her hands behind her head.

"I have no idea why people automatically assume that anyone trying to be your friend is trying to get something out of you. They think of you as an easy target for some reason. A means to a fruitful end...but I thought of you as the..." she stops herself.

"Sorry I don't mean to ramble" Y/n sighed as she took one of her hands and rubbed her forehead with the edge of her palm.

She hears sudden shuffling, Hermione’s eyes catch hers again as she hovers over Y/n, her forearms on either side of the girl's head.

"You thought of me as what...?" Hermione whispers, her eyes searching Y/n’s for the unspoken answers to her unspoken questions.

Y/n opened her mouth to say something but she was stalled. Her heart pounded rapidly against the white dress shirt that covered her upper body.

Hermione waited patiently, her fingers grasped the fabric of the bedding, showing no signs of moving anytime soon.

The silence between them was loud. Too loud.

"I thought of you as the girl I wanted to spend the rest of my life with..." Y/n finally whispers back, Hermione stares at her a moment before slowly leaning down, their lips brushing.

"Wanted?" She whispers as her heart pounded.

This was it. She admitted it.

"Want" Y/n mumbled back as Hermione quickly closed the gap between them. The kiss is everything they thought it would be, the feeling of something missing was replaced with excitement of what the future would hold for the two of them.

The girl above her was the past, present, and future.

The girl below her was the reason she breathed now. The reason the world had meaning.

That may sound dramatic if they were to utter those words to their friends, but it was the truth in their minds.

That’s all that mattered.

#harry potter #hermione granger #hermione granger x reader #lesbian #fanfic #fluff

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sohyxn · 2 years ago

Text

LOVE SICK⠀───⠀CHOU TZUYU.

TAGS : FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF

PAIRINGS : tsundere! tzuyu x fem reader.

NOTES : read part one here

tzuyu, the feisty and tsundere girlfriend, had always prided herself on being independent and strong-willed. but when a sudden bout of sickness struck her, she found herself in a vulnerable position. however, her pride prevented her from reaching out to y/n, her loving girlfriend, for help.

as her symptoms worsened, tzuyu couldn't deny the fact that she needed assistance. she lay in bed, feeling weak and miserable, but stubbornly refused to admit it. deep down, she knew y/n would gladly take care of her, but her embarrassment held her back.

y/n, perceptive as ever, noticed tzuyu's unusual behavior and sensed that something was amiss. with concern in her eyes, she approached tzuyu, gently placing a hand on her forehead. "tzuyu, you seem really sick. are you okay?"

tzuyu tried to brush it off, her cheeks flushing slightly. "i'm fine. it's just a small cold. i don't need your help."

y/n's brows furrowed with worry, but she respected tzuyu's stubbornness. "alright, if you say so. but remember, i'm here for you whenever you need me."

days passed, and tzuyu's condition continued to deteriorate. she struggled to get out of bed, feeling weak and lightheaded. the mounting frustration and discomfort finally overwhelmed her pride, and she couldn't bear it any longer.

with a sigh of defeat, tzuyu finally admitted to herself that she needed y/n's help. summoning all her courage, she sent a text message to y/n, albeit with a hint of tsundere tone.

tzuyu: "hey, you. don't think i'm asking for your help or anything, but i'm feeling really sick. maybe... if you're not busy, you could bring over some soup or something."

y/n's heart skipped a beat as she read tzuyu's message. she immediately set aside everything and rushed to the kitchen to prepare a nourishing bowl of soup for her sick girlfriend. with a smile on her face, she texted back.

y/n "of course, i'm only doing it because i want to. i'll bring the soup over right away. just sit tight."

minutes later, y/n arrived at tzuyu's doorstep, carrying a steaming bowl of homemade soup. she walked into the room, her eyes softening with concern as she saw tzuyu curled up in bed, looking uncharacteristically small and vulnerable.

tzuyu averted her gaze, her cheeks turning a faint shade of pink. "i told you i don't need your help. but... thanks for coming anyway."

y/n chuckled softly, placing the bowl of soup on the bedside table. she sat down beside tzuyu and gently brushed a strand of hair away from her forehead. "you may not want to admit it, but i know you need me right now. and i'm more than happy to take care of you, tzuyu."

tzuyu's eyes softened, and a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "you're annoyingly persistent, you know that?"

y/n grinned. "i'll take that as a compliment. now, enough talking. eat your soup and get some rest. i'll be here by your side, taking care of you until you're back to your usual feisty self."

as tzuyu took a spoonful of soup, her heart warmed at y/n's unwavering support and love. in that moment, she realized that vulnerability and asking for help didn't make her weak; it only strengthened their connection as a couple.

days turned into nights, and y/n stayed faithfully by tzuyu's side, tending to her needs and offering comfort. they shared moments of laughter and deep conversations, strengthening the bond between them.

one evening, as the soft glow of the bedside lamp illuminated the room, tzuyu's fever finally broke. she lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling, feeling a renewed sense of strength and gratitude.

y/n, sitting beside her, noticed the change in tzuyu's demeanor. with a tender smile, she leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on tzuyu's forehead.

tzuyu's eyes shot open, caught off guard by the unexpected gesture. her cheeks flushed a deep shade of red, and her breath hitched in her throat. she blinked at y/n, momentarily lost for words.

y/n, noticing tzuyu's flustered reaction, couldn't help but smile. "you're so adorable when you're flustered."

tzuyu's blush deepened, and she averted her gaze, suddenly finding immenseinterest in the soup bowl. "i-i'm not... it's just... you caught me off guard, that's all."

y/n chuckled softly, her hand reaching out to gently tilt tzuyu's chin upward, making her meet their gaze. "you don't have to be embarrassed, jagi. i couldn't help myself. i just wanted to show you how much i care."

tzuyu's eyes softened, and she mustered a shy smile. "i know you care. and... i appreciate it. more than i can express."

y/n's smile grew wider, their thumb brushing lightly against tzuyu's cheek. "good. because I'll always be here for you, taking care of you, even if you try to push me away."

tzuyu's stubborn façade began to crumble, revealing the vulnerability underneath. she leaned into y/n's touch, her voice barely above a whisper. "thank you, love. for everything."

y/n leaned in closer, her lips hovering just inches away from tzuyu's ear. "you're welcome, jagi. and just so you know, i'm always going to be here, kissing away your worries and making you feel loved."

tzuyu's blush intensified, her heartbeat quickening at Y/N's words. she couldn't deny the warmth that spread through her chest, melting away her tough exterior. with a mix of shyness and newfound courage, she whispered back, "i wouldn't mind more of those kisses."

y/n's eyes sparkled with delight, and with a mischievous grin, she placed a tender kiss on tzuyu's cheek. "consider it done, my adorable tsundere."

in that moment, tzuyu realized that vulnerability and allowing herself to be cared for didn't diminish her strength or independence. jnstead, it deepened the bond she shared with y/n, bringing them closer together in a love that was tender, passionate, and filled with moments of sweet fluster and affectionate kisses.

and so, as the days turned into weeks, their love story continued to unfold, with tzuuyu and y/n navigating life's challenges hand in hand, supporting and caring for each other every step of the way.

#gg imagines #gxg #gxg imagine #chou tzuyu #tzuyu x reader #tzuyu twice #twice tzuyu #tzuyu #chou tzuyu x reader #chou tzuyu x fem reader #twice #twice x reader #twice x y/n #twice x you #wlw imagine

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yujo-nishimura · 2 years ago

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Red Hair or Red Nose? - Part 4

You guys are all amazing; thank you for reading and therefore motivating me to continue writing. This all starts off very slow, but I enjoy the tension between the characters and the slow development of this triangle... Part 5 coming tomorrow!

Feeling overwhelmed by the dominating presence of both Shanks and Buggy and their brainless masculinity, you instinctively attempt to break free from their grasp. Sensing your resistance, Shanks swiftly releases his hold on you, recognizing your denial. However, Buggy, less attuned to your boundaries, continues to hold onto your face, his grip remaining firm.

“You are both quite annoying. Nothing has changed. Me leaving the ship had no impact on both of you!”, you assert, directing your words squarely at Buggy while a laugh escapes your lips.

Shanks joins in with laughter, and as the sound fills the air, a moment of realization dawns upon Buggy. For a moment his clown face is frozen in shock. The signs of recognition and understanding become evident.

“Y/N!” he exclaims, immediately letting go of your face, detaching his body parts in surprise again. Shanks continues to laugh uncontrollably, clutching onto his glass and ordering three more drinks from the perplexed bartender, not following the communication at all.

“Y/N! It is really you! Oh my god, why didn't you tell me, Shanks, you bastard?”

“How could you not realize, Buggy?”

"But Y/N... you've grown so much!" Buggy exclaims, his gaze lingering on your chest, causing you to blush in embarrassment. Reacting swiftly to his inappropriate comment, you slap him across the face, much to Shanks' amusement, enjoying himself to the fullest.

"Just because I am a woman doesn't make me any less of a strong pirate captain compared to the two of you!" you exclaim, your words laced with determination and a hint of frustration. Memories of the past resurface, reminding you of the gender-based assignments you were often given aboard Gold D. Roger's ship, where cleaning and cooking tasks were expected of you. However, you refuse to let men judge your strength and power based on your appearance. You have a loyal crew, you've made it to the Grand Line, and your gender will not hinder you from competing with these renowned captains seated beside you. Especially if one of them was just a pervy clown!

Shanks, who finally has stopped laughing and already consumed a considerable amount of Whiskey in a short span of time, speaks now in his usual calm manner:

“I am so glad to see you again, Y/N. And you appear like you have made remarkable progress.. I never doubted your potential, but I couldn't help but worry about you, venturing out there all on your own.”

"I have a crew," you retort firmly, your voice brimming with conviction. "We are a team of five at this point!"

Now it is Buggy who erupts into laughter at your response, his amusement echoing in the air.

"Five people?" That's even fewer than that damned Straw Hat crew! How on earth are you still alive, sweetheart?" he jeers, his words stinging deep within you, striking a chord of defeat.

Yes, it was true that not many were willing to follow a female captain, and five may not have been a large number. But you had just embarked on your journey, and you were grateful for the loyal men who stood by your side.

The effects of the alcohol, combined with the emotional sting of Buggy's comment, overwhelmed you. Without uttering another word, you rose from your seat, determined to put an end to their childish behavior. You are fed up. You've moved on from the past, and it's time they understood that.

As you turn towards the door, a sudden touch on your wrist startles you. Buggy's detached hand firmly grasps your wrist, refusing to let you go.

"I am sorry..." Buggy's apology sounds strained, his voice carrying a scratch of regret.

As you turn around, you witness Shanks holding his sword, pointing it directly at Buggy. Shanks, ever the voice of reason, has stepped in to maintain control over Buggy's volatile temper. He does not want you to leave.

“He is sorry. And so am I. Have one more drink with us and tell us about your adventures, Y/N!”

With a sigh, you come around and slowly return to your seat. The calm and rational demeanor of Shanks has once again persuaded you to reconsider your decision to leave.

As the evening progresses into the late hours, the effects of the alcohol intensify, and the atmosphere grows increasingly noisy and lively. The three of you become intoxicated, with Shanks proving to be the most resilient drinker among the group. The pub is filled with laughter and animated storytelling. In this state, the barriers between you begin to dissolve, allowing the bonds of the friendship you shared since childhood to be rekindled.

As the clock approaches 3 am, the three of you finally stumble out of the pub. The tired barkeeper, happy about all the money you spent on his place, but exhausted by your laughter and singing, kicks you finally out.

In a state of lightheartedness, Shanks, Buggy and you begin to sing sea shanties, filling the air with cheerful and drunken melodies as you make your way back to the harbor. To maintain balance and out of affection, you hold onto each other tightly, ensuring that no one stumbles. You feel wonderful. You had missed these two men in your life and you realize this now in your drunken state more than ever. Why did you leave them in the first place? The love and affection you feel for them seems endless at this moment, you remember you have always felt for them like this but now it mixes with a feeling of excitement since these two strong handsome men are holding you in their midst. What a bliss!

Shanks, making sure to walk slowly, holding you tightly and steadily, his shoulder gently pressing against yours.

Meanwhile, Buggy's hands rest around your hips, his touch radiating heat and conveying a sense of intimacy and desire that contrasts with Shanks' more gentle demeanor. The combination of their touches leaves you feeling lightheaded, overwhelmed with a mixture of joy and excitement.

"Hey guys, what if we kissed now?" you chuckle, your gaze shifting between Buggy and Shanks, attempting to decipher their reactions. You do not know, why you actually said that.

Buggy's expression morphs into surprise and his eyes widen, while Shanks, taken aback momentarily, raises an eyebrow with a curious glimmer in his eyes. The air around you becomes charged with an unexpected tension as you wait for their response.

To be continued..

#buggy the clown x reader #buggy x reader #buggy x you #buggytheclown #one piece buggy #one piece #red haired shanks #shanks one piece #shanks x reader #akagami no shanks #red hair shanks

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yoomiwrites · 7 months ago

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Sugar Rush¹¹

Summary: Reader has been working directly under the Admirals, Kuzan, Kizaru and Akainu for years. Little by little, the dynamic changes and friendship (and more) develops. These are all small stories that build on each other. The work is from 2017, not revised and the prologue of Aromatic Rush & Salty Rush.

Note: Aaaaand another one. I think it's obvious now who's the final ship in this story.

The air in the Marine Headquarters was thick with the familiar scent of ink and paper, a comforting backdrop to the usual chaos of a busy workday. I sat at my desk, trying to sift through the mountain of paperwork that had accumulated during my absence. My mind still buzzed with memories of Kizaru’s unexpected visit, the warmth of his presence lingering like an echo. Yet, I had hardly had time to dwell on it before a deep voice shattered my thoughts.

“(L/N), come here,” Akainu commanded from his office, his tone leaving no room for debate.

I swallowed hard, the authority in his voice sending a ripple of anxiety through me. Taking a deep breath, I gathered my notes and made my way to his office, trying to suppress the growing pit of unease in my stomach. As I approached, I could feel the weight of his piercing gaze even before I stepped inside.

“Close the door,” he instructed, and I complied, the click of the latch echoing in the silence that followed.

Akainu leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, his expression a mix of annoyance and seriousness. “You’ve been slacking, (L/N). You’re not working hard enough.”

I blinked, taken aback. “I just got back from vacation, sir. I’m still getting back into the rhythm of things.”

“Excuses won’t cut it.” He leaned forward, his intense eyes narrowing. “You’re part of this operation, and I expect you to take your responsibilities seriously. We rely on you to keep things running smoothly, and that means you need to step it up.”

His stern demeanor was unsettling, but I couldn’t help but feel a bit defensive. “I understand, Admiral, but I really was doing my best. I’m still sorting through all the reports from my time off. If you could give me a little more time—”

“And while you’re at it,” he interrupted, cutting me off mid-sentence, “you need to set some boundaries with Borsalino.”

The sudden shift in topic threw me off guard. “Kizaru? What do you mean?”

Akainu’s expression darkened further, his tone taking on a reprimanding edge. “I’ve seen how you two behave around each other. You shouldn’t be acting like a couple in the workplace.”

I stared at him, utterly bewildered. “Admiral, we’re not a couple. We’re just—”

“Don’t even dare to lie to me, (L/N). I know what I’ve seen. You two are practically inseparable. And that kind of behavior is unacceptable in this setting.”

A mix of confusion and disbelief bubbled inside me. How could he think that? I had always viewed Kizaru as my boss first and foremost. The idea of being seen as a couple was completely foreign. “But we’re not—”

“Enough!” Akainu slammed his palm on the desk, the sound reverberating in the small office. “You need to focus on your work. This isn’t a playground for whatever nonsense you think you’re doing with Borsalino. I expect professionalism from all my subordinates.”

My heart raced, caught between frustration and embarrassment. “I promise you, we’re not dating, sir. It’s just… it’s complicated.”

“Complicated?” Akainu leaned back, arms still crossed, scrutinizing me as if trying to read the truth in my expression. “You’re telling me you aren’t aware of how it looks? Everyone in the HQ is talking. You think I’m the only one who’s noticed?”

I shook my head in disbelief, overwhelmed. “But that’s not fair! Just because we get along well doesn’t mean we’re dating!”

“Then keep it that way.” His tone softened slightly, but the intensity remained. “I don’t care how well you get along. What matters is that you keep things professional. Understand?”

“Yes, sir.” I sighed, feeling defeated. I was used to being told to work harder, but this felt like a bizarre twist I hadn’t anticipated.

“Good.” Akainu’s demeanor shifted slightly as he relaxed in his chair, his expression softening, though only just. “Now get back to work. We have more important matters to address than your social life.”

As I turned to leave, my mind was still reeling. The idea that I could somehow be perceived as Kizaru’s partner was completely ridiculous. I couldn’t deny that I enjoyed his company, but that didn’t mean we were a couple.

Back at my desk, I sat there staring at the papers in front of me, unable to concentrate. What was everyone seeing that I wasn’t? It was all so confusing. All I wanted was to do my job, not get tangled up in speculation about my relationship with Kizaru.

My thoughts drifted back to him, remembering the way he made me feel at ease, how effortlessly he could brighten a room. But I shook my head, trying to banish the thoughts. I needed to focus on the work at hand, not whatever ludicrous narrative was being spun behind my back.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of paperwork and fleeting glances from coworkers who seemed to regard me with newfound intrigue. I kept my head down, refusing to engage in any idle chatter about my supposed relationship with Kizaru.

Just as I was starting to sink into the rhythm of the workday, the door to my office swung open, and there he stood—Kizaru, with that trademark smirk plastered across his face.

“Hey there, (F/N),” he greeted, casually leaning against the doorframe. “How’s it going? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“More like I just had an interrogation with a dragon,” I replied, trying to keep my tone light despite the turmoil inside me.

He tilted his head, his curiosity piqued. “What do you mean? Did Sakazuki give you a hard time? I thought he was supposed to be nice to you.”

I rolled my eyes. “Nice is not the word I’d use. He thinks you and I are—” I hesitated, trying to find the right words. “He thinks we’re dating.”

Kizaru raised an eyebrow, a grin spreading across his face. “Oooh? Is that what he said?”

“Not in so many words, but he definitely implied it,” I said, feeling a mix of annoyance and embarrassment wash over me. “I told him we’re not a couple, but he didn’t believe me.”

“Interesting.” Kizaru crossed his arms, a teasing glint in his eyes. “So, you’re saying you don’t want to be my girlfriend?”

I groaned, burying my face in my hands. “That’s not what I’m saying at all! I’m saying that’s not what we are!”

His laughter echoed in the office, light and teasing. “Well, if it makes you feel better, I won’t tease Sakazuki about it. He might explode again.”

“Please don’t!” I shot back, but a smile crept onto my face despite my irritation.

As we bantered back and forth, I found a flicker of relief in the midst of the chaos. Maybe it was absurd, but the thought of being seen as Kizaru’s partner wasn’t entirely unpleasant. It was just confusing, especially when I had no idea how he felt about me.

#one piece x reader #akainu sakazuki #aokiji kuzan #one piece #borsalino kizaru

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cho-aaacho · 1 year ago

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(Don't) Tease Me!

Masterlist

Tags : Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Comedy, Pranks, Kissing, Surprise Kisses, French Kiss, Teasing, Silly Geto, Mischievous Geto, Please pinch Geto's cheeks.

Summary : Aggressively exploited, with a fondness full of weak points, that's what he did.

Some may consider you foolish, but Suguru is foolishness.

You've never engaged in a serious argument with him. Because he is really annoying when he jumps into the argument. He effortlessly prevails, always striking you with a brilliant sentence that flows freely through his mind.

His sweet talking abilities, along with his beautiful features, are comparable to the sweet cotton candy that makes you lose in an argument with him. Probably a true master of manipulation since day one.

How many angels had he tricked, or how many poor souls had he manipulated, until this time?

You can't even count.

Suguru loved it when they fell from his tricks; the pleasure he derived from the agony of those poor souls was overwhelming. He would love to dance under their agonies in their twilight of despair.

His brain was always used for complex and strained thoughts, pouring forth mysterious ideas that transformed into poetic words under his warm palm.

One night, he was monologuing about his work and casually declaring it to the ceiling.

"Satoru will be surprised if he finds out about this."

"I'll make a big surprise for my old friend, Satoru. He will see..."

"Uh, do you think Satoru will have a good expression when I come to Jujutsu High?"

And you were yelling at him. "Stop talking about Gojo-san. I thought you and him were enemies. Do you still care about that man? Funny."

Or you'll say.

"Next time, Suguru-kun. If you say something ridiculous again, I will make sure you won't wake up the next morning."

He responded playfully. "Oh, that's just my work project. Why are you so angry? Are you jealous?"

Of course, you are annoyed by his attitude. You hate his inconsistency irks. Although he promises to stop (monologue to the ceiling), he is still doing that whenever your eyes catch him.

You try to calm yourself, keeping your revenge to yourself and your flame of anger against his behaviors.

Sometimes he responds to your criticism by placing a coupled cheek-pinching when Miguel is around, which makes him roll his eyes.

He found it interesting when he heard you scowl aggressively. He'll chuckle pleasantly, making you feel embarrassed when he says it. "I find you cute. Don't you dare show this to anyone else, okay?"

You want to punch him or teach him a good lesson because of his actions. Perhaps he simply enjoys witnessing your reaction, which amuses him more than the reactions of his followers.

Is there a chance you may defeat him in this game? Who knows.

Today, Suguru summoned you to the meeting room. He mentioned that he had something essential to convey. You always found the meeting room with the other members, like the twins. But this time, you only find Suguru.

Instead of telling you about the upcoming mission, he began telling jokes. Which makes you frustrated because it's unnecessary.

"Alright, I understand about the jokes. So, Suguru-kun, what should I do? You summoned me for the next mission."

He gave you an inviting glance and giggled. "Nothing. I just want to see your face."

"Do I sense a concern?"

He smiled. "We always have diverse perspectives. How about we conclude—"

"Oh, you're suggesting I get out of your group? Fine. I'll be out!"

"You've been so sensitive since morning; did I neglect your usual morning kiss?"

How can he say those words with a straight face? This guy needs a reality check! So ridiculous. You almost can't believe he's the special-grade sorcerer, and all of the sorcerers are afraid of him.

You sighed in frustration, hinting that you were done with him. But you have another idea: take revenge. Maybe... a little tease. It wouldn't hurt him.

"Suguru-kun, I'm sorry. But I need to do something."

You grab his collar into your grasp and kiss him, feeling his textured lips on yours, feeling his breath against your face, and smelling his peppermint from his mouth.

Actually, it wasn't a forced kiss; it was a gentle kiss, but it was enough to make him gasp for air. He reached your shoulder and shut his eyes, trying to deepen the kiss as he pinned you on the floor.

His tongue enters your mouth, dancing sensually with yours. He counts your teeth, biting your lips gently. A smirk curls on his face, and you swiftly let go.

You can hear Miguel laughing from outside, along with the twin's protests, and there is an unpleasant silence between you and Suguru, as well as a scarlet blush on his face.

"Oh. I didn't know you were a good kisser. What is that for? If it's a present to get me to stop talking, sorry, but that didn't work!"

#geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #geto x you #geto x reader #suguru geto x reader #jjk geto #geto suguru #jjk geto x reader #jjk geto x you

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beestriker015 · 1 year ago

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Shelly x male Team Magma s/o

You may be wondering how two members of opposing teams that absolutely despise one another fell in love.

Well, it’s a long story.

Team Aqua, who are dedicated to their leader’s goal of expanding the sea.

Team Magma, whose ambition is to expand the land mass.

Due to contrasting goals, these teams are bitter enemies with one another, leading to many conflicts between the two.

Shelly and s/o first met during one of these many confrontations between their two teams and engaged battle with each other.

Despite being an Admin while s/o is a mere grunt, Shelly was easily defeated by him, leaving her both flabbergasted and a little impressed, not that she would ever admit it.

“H-how is this possible?! I shouldn’t have lost to a lowly Magma grunt like you!”

“I told you not to underestimate me Aqua Admin. Let your defeat show you that Team Magma is strongest.”

S/o smirks victoriously, making Shelly in leer at him in anger before Team Aqua begrudgingly retreats.

Impressed by his victory over the Aqua Admin, Team Magma’s leader Maxie promotes s/o to Admin.

Since that day, Shelly and s/o formed a rivalry with each other, with Shelly swearing that she’ll crush him in battle the next time they meet.

Unfortunately for her, s/o goes undefeated.

After losing to her enemy for what seems like the millionth time, Shelly falls to her knees and punches the ground in frustration.

“Why?! Why can’t I defeat you?! I don’t deserve to be a part of Team Aqua if I can’t even defeat a Magma lowlife like you!”

Watching her break down, s/o can’t help but feel bad.

“Hey. If it means anything, you are a pretty good trainer, and it’s because of you that I train my pokémon so hard. I always look forward to our battles…Shelly.”

Greatly surprised by his words, Shelly gets up and offers s/o a small smile before turning away with a huff.

“This does not make us friends…but thank you for saying that, I…appreciate it.”

At that moment, the two enemies would begin growing closer, even if they didn’t realize it.

Now whenever their teams would enter another skirmish, s/o and Shelly would of course battle, but not necessarily as enemies.

As time passed, s/o and Shelly grew even fonder of one another, leading to a spark of romantic attraction beginning to emerge, which they both quickly notice.

“No. I can’t be falling in love with her. She’s the enemy! What would Maxie say if he found out I’m getting feelings for a Team Aqua member?!”

“What is wrong with me?! There’s no way that I’m attracted to s/o! He’s from Team Magma! Our enemy! Archie’s enemy! My…enemy.”

Try as they might to fend off their feelings, love is quite persistent.

When next they meet, the awkward tension between them is quite noticeable.

Shelly and s/o are both unfocused and make several mistakes during their battle, somehow resulting in the former’s victory.

“I….I won? I won! After so many defeats I finally managed to beat you s/o!”

Despite losing the battle, s/o feels happy for Shelly.

“Congratulations Shelly, you deserve the win.”

Overwhelmed with happiness, Shelly absentmindedly pulls s/o into a kiss, which he can’t help but sink into.

The reality of what she just did sets in as Shelly quickly pushes s/o away with a reddened face.

“S-sorry! I didn’t mean to do that! I-”

Her embarrassed rambling is silenced by s/o kissing her again, catching her off guard.

“W-what was that for?”

“You kissed me first. Consider us even now.”

“Even?! Oh no, don’t think I’m letting you get away with that! Come here!”

She pulls him into another kiss, this one causing their feelings for one another to finally let loose.

After pulling away, Shelly and s/o stare into each other’s eyes before fully confessing their feelings.

Luckily for the two, none of their teammates were nearby to hear or see what’s been going on.

“What do we do now Shelly? I love you, and you love me, but we both know our Teams won’t approve of us being together.”

“Then we’ll keep it a secret. Our relationship is our business. Maxie and Archie don’t need to know.”

“Can we really make this work? I mean, I know I love you, but I don’t want either of us to get into trouble.”

“Don’t worry s/o, we’ll take things slow and play it by year. If our team finds out about us, we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. I love you s/o, and I can’t fight what my heart wants any longer.”

“Alright then. I love you too Shelly.”

The two embrace and officially begin their secret relationship.

As a couple, s/o and Shelly can’t do a lot of things normal couples do for obvious reasons, but that doesn’t stop them from trying.

Cutesy texts, small gifts, love notes, and fun selfies are constantly being exchanged between the two.

Time together is extremely rare, but when they do manage to get away from their teams, cuddles and kisses are mandatory.

S/o and Shelly put up a facade that they absolutely hate each other when around their teammates as to not raise suspicion.

Luckily for them, it seems to be working.

Their respective leaders do often wonder who it is that their admin is dating, but respect them enough as to not pry into their personal lives.

When Groudon and Kyogre are awakened, s/o and Shelly accidentally kiss in front of their leaders after being relieved that the other is safe, thus letting their secret out.

After explaining everything to Maxie and Archie, the two wait for the incoming scolding.

“Shelly, while I don’t approve of you dating this Magma land lover and hiding it from me, I suppose if you’re happy, I just have to get used to it.”

“I’m quite surprised at you s/o. I never would have expected you to be in a relationship with one of our enemies. However, you are an adult that is aware of his own decisions. Besides, at the moment there are more important matters at hand.”

Once the legendary pokémon are dealt with, both teams realize the error of their ways and vow to work together to make up for their misdeeds, thus giving s/o and Shelly more time to be together.

“I’m happy everything worked out for the better. I love you so much Shelly.”

“I love you too s/o, and whatever our future holds, I know I want you by my side.”

The two share a loving kiss, both happy that their relationship doesn’t have to be hidden from their teams any longer.

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gugugyuu · 6 months ago

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sleep part iii - beomgyu x reader

warnings: very suggestive content, cursing, etc.

"it's rare to see you with a girl." soobin said, taking a shot at the billiards table.

beomgyu shrugged, trying to play it cool. "y/n? she's just my classmate."

"then why are you smiling so hard?" yeonjun teased.

and it was true. ever since you parted ways, beomgyu couldn't wipe the smile off his face. "i swear, you guys are overreacting." he insisted, shaking his head in disbelief.

his friends continued to banter about how they'd never seen you before and how come beomgyu seemed to be the first one to befriend someone so attractive.

"what's her number then?" soobin asked, a grin spreading across his face. "i might just introduce myself."

beomgyu shot him an irritated look as he grabbed a cue stick.

you decided to hang out with him after class. being in a boy's room felt strange. you had this overwhelming urge to clean and organize everything in sight.

"that's not fair!" beomgyu exclaimed when you snatched a potion to power up your character for a short period of time.

both of you burst into laughter at his defeat but the moment turned awkward when he tucked a stray hair behind your ear, his face mere inches from yours.

you pulled away gently, a smile playing on your lips. "okay, this was fun..."

he threw himself at the bed, covered his face with a pillow. "no, you are fun." he replied, with a frustrated muffled voice.

"come on, we have work to do." you countered, trying to rein in the moment.

"we still have like, two weeks!" he protested, clearly feeling lazy.

you stood up near the edge of his bed. "doesn't matter. we need to finish this." you insisted, gently grabbing both of beomgyu's arms, trying to get him to stand. "plus, i have to do something for someone." you added, thinking of your friend, the one who has a crush on him.

you realized that the pang of hesitation and guilt you felt before is probably because you wanted to help her and that you couldn't shake the worry that she might think you were getting closer to beomgyu instead of her.

he's her only friend and not to mention, her now crush.

instead of standing up, beomgyu dragged you down. then suddenly you found yourself on top of him, his arms wrapping around you like a cozy blanket.

"wha- what are you doing?" you asked quietly. you felt a mix of confusion and unexpected relaxation wash all over you.

"shh... just stay like this." he whispered, a hint of a smile formed on his lips.

beomgyu closed his eyes, thinking about how he knew that you were the most attractive person he had ever seen, even though he had no idea what you were really like beyond the surface.

yes he might knew a few things about you, like you always read books, a nerdy yet endearing trait.

but as you became closer to him, he noticed so much more.

he might not have recognized the subtlety of your makeup but you effortlessly rocked the no-makeup look.

your nails were always clean, polished. your lips? it's always shiny. he can't also ignore your habit of biting it. your teeth always glistening whenever you smiled. your hair's soft and smelled wonderful.

beomgyu admired how much you take care of yourself, even the simple habit of drinking plenty of water.

he appreciated how genuinely interested you were when he shared his hobbies, passions and how teaching you felt rewarding, even if he hated how quickly you picked things up.

he also couldn't ignore how much of a tease you could be, often leaving him flustered.

there was a part of him that enjoyed how gullible you were, even though it sometimes made him feel guilty. he likes how you are fiercely independent yet you can still ignite a protective instinct within him.

he liked being there for you.

you woke up in beomgyu's arms, feeling surprisingly comfortable. and as you gently pulled away, he stirred and opened his eyes with an instant alert. "i'm sorry..." he said, releasing his hold on you, his expression were a mix of concern and embarrassment.

"it's okay..." you replied with a soft smile, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. did he forgot to mention he likes it when you're doing that?

"i'm wondering if you'd like to grab coffee tomorrow with her. the three of us?"

beomgyu blinked. "ye- yeah, of course. i'd love to." he smiled back, the tension faded as the thought of spending time together brightened the mood. "i'll text you."

2:00 PM

choi beomgyu: you're so late.

you: sorry! i can't go. errands.

choi beomgyu: are you serious?

you: sorry :((

beomgyu let out a long, heavy sigh. f/n could easily spot the disappointment on his face, "i don't get it..." he groaned, frustration thick in his voice. "she said she was going to come, right?" another sigh escaped his lips, more defeated.

she cleared her throat, shifting nervously. "i think..." she began, her voice a little unsteady, "i think she set us up."

"what do you mean set us up?" beomgyu's brow furrowed, totally confused. "set us up for what?"

she then reached out without a word, gently taking his hands in hers. her heart raced but she calmed herself. "i asked her to help me with something."

he blinked, still trying to piece it together.

she took a deep breath. "because i told her i like you, beomgyu."

beomgyu's still processing her words, letting out a choked "what?" escaped his lips followed by "you like me?" his voice wavered slightly.

she nodded, her grip on his hands tightening a little. "yeah, i do. i just didn't know how to tell you and she said she could help."

he stared at her, still reeling. "so... this was all a setup to get us alone?"

"kind of." she replied, feeling nervous. "i just needed you to know how i feel."

beomgyu's mind raced, trying to catch up with the sudden confession.

he didn't know what to say or how to respond... fuck.

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jeanniebug623 · 1 year ago

Text

🕸️🕷️ Weaving the Web 🕷️🕸️

Chapter 17: Let No One In & No One Gets Out

TW: Mention of Suicide

Spider spent the next three days not leaving the apartment for anything. He’d covered the mirror in the bathroom with a towel after washing it multiple times. As if there was any way for him to forget the cryptic words from Eywa knew who...

He was afraid to go to sleep, worried whoever wrong the message might come back. Whoever wrote the message made him feel something he’d never experienced before...

Paranoid.

Despite losing energy from not sleeping, Spider wasn’t making up for it with his appetite. The day after he found the message, he was so stressed he forgot to eat entirely. The stomach pangs were suppressed by thoughts and theories about who could have written it. He had no friends on base with the recoms out on mission. But he hadn’t showered since before they left, so could one of them have written it? Did one of the alters write it? Or did HE write it and completely forget?

Could Spider not even trust himself anymore...? Was he losing time or memories, even when he was in control?

His stomach growled angrily and he growled right back at it.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, Spider slammed his feet down on the floor and wandered the few feet into the kitchen to look through the cabinets for the eighth time that day. And he would likely go back to the next of blankets on the couch empty-handed for the eighth time too. On top of not knowing who wrote the message, the teen didn’t trust anyone not to sneak into the apartment while he slept so the couch it was. At least it was a comfortable couch...

Walking made his stomach really hurt now. When did he last eat? Was it last night or yesterday morning? And what DID he eat? He sure as hell hadn’t cooked anything as evident by the protein wrappers strewn about the countertop. His eyes roved over the same cabinet contents from before; nothing new magically appeared. But something did jump out...

Spider stared at an unassuming can with a bright red tomato on it. Why did that suddenly look so good...?

As appealing as tomato soup suddenly looked, Spider’s head jerked to the right and he rolled the shoulder for it. Maybe later...just water for now for the headache.

Defeated in his hunt for food, Spider went back and flopped into the tangled blankets on the side of the couch against the wall so he could stare at the door. There was only one way into the apartment and he wasn’t going to miss anyone who might creep in.

“They’re just fucking with you, Spider...” he reassured himself quietly, rubbing the heel of his palm into his right temple. That had to be it. Without Quaritch and the rest of the squad around, those RDA sons of bitches had to be messing with him. He didn’t think his alters had the capacity to just write that message without causing any other problems...but that was a hell of a presumption.

He took a slow breath and closed his eyes. The first person to come to Spider’s mind was Kiri. She would know what to do. She’d know how to make him feel better with how fucked up everything had become. His chest felt tight and a pang shot through his head, causing him to drop his head forward and clutch the right side of his head in a mess of tangled locs.

Spider missed her so goddamn much...and Lo’ak...Tuk and Neteyam...all the science guys...Jake...even Ney-...

Before he had a chance to register it, a sharpy cry escaped Spider and was followed by a hiss of pain through his teeth. His head dipped lower and his other hand wove into his wild hair to clutch the other side of his head. It felt like his whole brain got zapped by a static shock. When he opened his eyes again, he was embarrassed to see tiny beads of tears on his eyelashes.

He tried to wipe them away with the back of his hand, but this seemed to just allow more to escape and stream down cheeks. Spider felt overwhelmed by the silence of the apartment. He could hear the almost silent hum of the lights and appliances plugged in the kitchen, but it was still silent compared to what he was used to at Hell’s Gate or High Ground.

Spider’s head shot upright, causing a flashing behind his eyes from the inevitable headache, at the sound of beeping. It didn’t sound like the normal door alert, but were the guards coming in? They’d left him alone...why would they come in now? Did they hear him? Fucking hell...just what he needed...

He heard the beeping again and looked around for the source before realizing it was muffled and coming from beneath the blanket. Pulling back the blanket, Spider pulled the tablet from where it slipped between the couch cushions and thought maybe it was alerting him the battery needed to be recharged or something. Instead, the icon that looked like a projector was blinking green.

“What the hell...?” Spider said to himself. He thought this thing only let him read comics and watch old Earth movies. The elation he felt when he pressed it and a screen turned on to the colonel staring back at him was indescribable. The recom was looking around the screen as if waiting for his end of the call to connect. Wainfleet was on one side, poking at some buttons he couldn’t see.

“Hey, hey!” Wainfleet said, confirming the tablets had connected, “There he is! What’s up, Spider-Man?”

Quaritch shook his head and focused on the stunned kid staring back at him, “Hey, tiger.”

“Qua-...Koaktan?” Spider asked, course corrected his name for Quaritch.

“In the blue flesh, kid, why do you look so surprised?” the colonel said with a smirk. Spider could see Wainfleet mock being offended off to the side. He could see an olive-green tarp so they must be set up at camp somewhere.

“Um...” Spider said, unable to form words.

“Spider?” Quaritch asked, his smirk dropping and a look of concern taking its place. Even though the screen, Spider could see how the recom looked over how he swallowed hard while biting his upper lip and his brows knit together as they rose up. Even Wainfleet caught the strange response and looked concerned, but he didn’t get to ask before Quaritch dismissed him with a wave of his hand. “Spider? You alright there, son?”

“I, um...” he started, failing miserably to form more words. His heart started beating faster and his breath caught in his throat, causing his chest to heave slightly. He blurted out suddenly and unprompted, “Are you ok?”

“I just asked you that, kid, what’s wrong?” Quaritch said, his minor concern turning serious. He leaned closer to the tablet and spoke quieter to make the conversation as private as possible. Though, the squad was family and they’d find out eventually.

“I, uh...yea. I don’t know...” Spider said quickly with a nod.

Quaritch stared at the boy for a second then ran his hand over his chin before asking again, “Spider. Are you alright? What’s wrong?”

“I’m fine...I just, uh...” Spider said with a shrug and tick to the right that Quaritch did NOT miss, “I don’t know.”

“Did somethin’ happen? Anyone givin’ you a hard time?” Quaritch said, his ears pinning back in anger at the thought of any of the security detail he handpicked for this task not performing to his expectations. He was ready to rip a new one into anyone putting the boy through any shit...

“No...” Spider said, his eyes dropping. His cheeks started to feel hot with shame when he couldn’t say what was wrong. He didn’t WANT to tell Quaritch about the message on the mirror. At least not until Spider was sure HE wasn’t the one who’d actually written it to himself. His brain was already fractured, but he was holding out hope he wasn’t going legitimately insane. “Are you coming back soon?”

“Yea, few more days.” Quaritch said, serious worry for his boy taking root.

“You promise?” Spider said quickly, sounding more desperate than he thought.

“Promise, kid.” Quaritch answered firmly. This was Spider he was dealing with, right? The surveillance mission had been just that. Observation and no contact. Maybe he could call it a mission complete early? He stayed patient and asked a third time, “Spider. Answer my question, ya hear? Are you alright? Because you sure hell don’t seem it.”

“I-I don’t know, ok?!” Spider suddenly blurted out, his breath shaking as he answered truthfully, “I don’t feel right.”

“Tell me what doesn’t feel right.” Quaritch said, signaling for Ja to come close enough to hear the kid’s response and what he was experiencing in his own words.

And then the damn burst...

“I’m all fucked up and I don’t know what to trust!” Spider said, closing his eyes tightly and letting the fears he’d been poorly keeping in check with little sleep, eating, and little physical activity. It was like self-imposed solitary confinement. “I’m tired! I don’t want to be here! Fuck this place! I want to go home! But I CAN’T because I’ll hurt someone! I can’t take the risk, I should just fucking kill myself before I hurt anyo-...!”

“Spider, eyes on me!” Quaritch ordered, barking it out loud enough that everyone at the camp heard. Dread seized his chest when he heard his son mention suicide. Spider did his best to not let his lip quiver as he followed the command but couldn’t stop the tremble in his breathing. The recom could see how exhausted, in every definition of the word, the boy was. “I’m comin’ back tonight. But it’s gonna take me a couple hours.”

“But the general said-...if I got in the way-...” Spider sputtered, instantly regretting how his outburst was going to threaten the arrangement Quaritch had worked so hard to set up.

“To hell with the general!” Quaritch shouted before he could reason with his own flaring emotions, “I’m comin’ home, kid!”

None of the squad got in his way as Quaritch stormed out from under the shelter to where Cupcake was almost asleep for the night. He shoved the tablet into Wainfleet’s hands and his second immediately went to calmly talk to the kid. He’d stay on the call as long as he needed to...

And he did.

Quaritch was going to owe Cupcake a long rest after the effort she put in to get him back to Bridgehead. It still took a while and it was in the early hours of the morning when he shocked the security detail outside the apartment. They dismissed themselves seeing how fast the colonel passed them into the apartment; it was obvious they weren’t needed anymore.

Stepping just past the threshold, Quaritch laid his golden eyes on the terrified teen who was still sitting in the same spot he saw on the screen and holding the tablet with shaking hands. Spider looked up at him, pale and sickly. He looked worse now than he did when he first called to see what trouble the kid had gotten up to while they were gone. Goddamn it, why didn’t he call to check in sooner?!

“Spid-...?” Quaritch barely started.

“I’m gonna be sick!” the kid blurted out before dropping the tablet and vaulting over the couch to the bathroom. That was one way to end a conversation and the call disconnected. The recom crossed the room in quick strides and into the bathroom after Spider. The teen didn’t even make it to the toilet, opting to drop and vomit the bile from an empty stomach onto the shower floor instead.

Quaritch dropped a knee next to him and pulled back his wild locs. All that time spent trying to hold back a panic attack on top of whatever was chipping away at his sanity the last few days? He rubbed a large hand in a circle on the boy’s back but did not get the response he was expecting.

“Don’t touch me!” Spider shrieked, slipping on the tile to get away from the recom and falling against the wall in a heap.

“Ok, ok. I ain’t gonna touch you.” Quaritch said quickly. He didn’t know if this was about to turn into a night with Miles instead of Spider if he pushed him. Wouldn’t be the first time...

“I’ll...leave you to your thoughts, ok? I’ll wait out ther-...” Quaritch said calmly, thinking he was offering the best solution until the boy whipped his head up.

“No, no! Please don’t go!” Spider pleaded but recoiled when Quaritch thought this was a green light to help him off the hard tile floor, “No, don’t touch me!”

Quaritch slowly lowered his hands and made direct eye contact with the now crying child, “Mawey.”

“Mawey...” Spider repeated, actually feeling a sliver calmer with Quaritch speaking in Na’vi.

“Yea...mawey. I’m just going to stay over here, ok?” the colonel said soothingly as he sat back against the opposite wall under the sink. As he did, he noticed a towel draped over the mirror. He looked back to Spider hunched over next to the wall, trying not to get sick again and covering his eyes with his hand.

“...irayo...” Spider said through the growing migraine.

#atwow #atwow fanfiction #atwow spider #recom quaritch #spider quaritch #weaving the web #avatar the way of traumatizing spider #ao3 writer

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