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lemonlover1110 · 1 day

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𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬

Satoru Gojo

[Chapter 30] Graduation

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Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader

Warnings: MDNI, Smut, Fluff

*THIS IS IT thank you all so much for reading, this truly has been a journey and I couldn't have done it without your support. love you all so much🫂❤️

**Too lazy to put all the smut warnings, it's nothing too extreme just some face sitting and whatnot :p

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“Are you ready to go?” Satoru asks, walking into your room to find you sitting in front of the vanity. You’re finishing up your makeup, putting the lash touch on your lips. His heart skips a beat, and he could faint right at this moment. He’s the luckiest man alive. He still has to rush you, “You can’t be late to your own graduation.”

“Is Anzu ready?” You question, and Satoru hums in response. He walks over to the bed and takes a seat to watch you.

“What? Do you not think I’m responsible enough? I can handle a baby.” Satoru says, as if you didn’t find your daughter nearly chewing an extension cord yesterday because he took his eyes off her for a second. You’re taking an awfully long time to answer the question which makes Satoru scoff, “She’s ready and with your mom.”

“Good.” You answer, turning your attention back to yourself yet again. Which type of earrings will be best? Satoru got you some beautiful diamond earrings for this occasion but you’re not sure you want to wear them– You don’t want to show off to everybody that your fiancé is filthy rich.

“Why don’t you put on the ones I got you?” Satoru sees that you’re struggling to pick the earrings you’ll wear for the night, so he’ll make a suggestion. You ignore him though, and he can’t help but laugh. He stands up, “I’ll go check on Ren while you finish up then.”

“Yeah, make sure he showered.” You tell him, and Satoru hums in response. He walks out of the room, getting ready to deal with the nine-year-old even though the child only seems to listen to you. The man feels like neither of his kids really listen to him, but he guesses he deserves it.

You smile back at yourself in the mirror, elated with how things go. Accepting Satoru’s breakfast offer as a date made your life change– You’d argue for the better, though some people didn’t want you and Satoru to get back together. It took you a while to officially start dating, since Satoru was married; even though you knew his marriage wasn’t authentic, you didn’t want to interfere with any of the mess that was going on.

Satoru began the divorce process with Sayo not too long after asking you out. It was a mutual decision that they kept hidden for as long as they possibly could. Even after their divorce was finalized, they refused to share the news with Sayo’s parents. You understood completely, knowing that it was a bigger issue than what it seemed. You had Satoru all to yourself either way, you didn’t really care what a random pair of old people thought.

The truth came to light eventually, when you got pregnant with your baby girl. It ended Sayo’s relationship with her parents, but time has passed and she’s much happier without them. It was around two years ago, when Ren kept begging for a baby brother, and Satoru convinced you that it would be a great idea. You wanted another baby so there wasn’t the need for too much convincing either way. Unluckily for Ren, Anzu ended up being a baby girl.

If you were given the chance to go back in time and change something, you’d keep everything the same. Maybe you would’ve kicked Satoru’s groin once or twice, but you’d do it all again. For Ren, for Anzu. For Satoru as well, though you wouldn’t admit it outloud.

“Ren isn’t ready!” Satoru yells, and you can’t help but chuckle as you roll your eyes. Your sweet baby boy is slowly becoming disobedient, and it’s a bit frustrating. You knew it was going to happen eventually, it’s just hard to believe that your baby boy is slowly setting off on his own adventure.

“Ren! Come here!” You yell, and within a matter of seconds your son comes running into your room. He doesn’t listen to Satoru, but you? He’ll listen to almost everything you have to say.

“What’s up?” He asks, and you look him over. You shake your head disappointedly, seeing that he’s still wearing pajamas.

“Do you want to stay home? Mrs. Gojo is more than happy to babysit.” Even when the woman is about to become your mother-in-law, you refuse to call her anything other than Mrs. Gojo. She’s the grandmother of your two kids, but you refuse to acknowledge her in any other way.

You barely have a relationship with her, for many reasons. Main one is that Satoru doesn’t really want to associate himself with her, not after everything that went down with Ren. Frankly, the only reason he even speaks to her is because Ren adores her– Though you believe that his opinion about his grandma is slowly changing because Ren quickly shakes his head.

“We’re going to her home later anyway, you can stand behind.” You assure him, but he shakes his head before darting out of the room. You almost laugh before yelling, “Make sure you don’t stink!”

“There she is!” You hear Satoru yell, and you turn around to find him with your little family. Your one-year-old squeals at the sight of her mother, while Ren glares at the baby for stealing his spotlight. You walk over to them, taking your baby Anzu into your arms before leaning down to kiss Ren’s forehead.

“Did you have fun there, Ren?” You ask him, and he shakes his head. He’s not going to have much fun watching a bunch of people that he doesn’t know walk across a stage. Satoru didn’t even give the child his phone.

“Ignore him, he’s been whining all day long. Where’s my kiss?” Satoru quickly changes the topic and you roll your eyes before pecking his lips. He tries to hug you without squashing the baby, saying, “Congratulations, baby. I’m so proud of you.”

“Thank you, Satoru.” You respond, pecking his lips once again. You notice a couple of missing people from your group, and you question, “Where’s my mom? And Sayo and Shoko? Their little guy?”

“Bathroom.” Ren answers, and you raise your brows. All of them? You can’t exactly blame them, the ceremony was a long one.

“How about we–” You begin but you notice that your little guy is pouty. You know the reason immediately, so you hand Satoru your baby girl and crouch down to bring the child into a hug. “Am I not getting congratulations from the person that I care about the most?”

“Anzu can’t talk yet.” He answers, which almost makes you laugh. Almost. He’s so jealous of his baby sister, which is kind of ironic considering he begged you to have a baby. His attitude certainly changed when he realized that the baby requires a lot of time and attention.

“Ren, you’re the apple of my eye.” You tell him, though the child refuses to listen. Cuddles are less frequent lately since you have a crying baby that needs you, and you barely play with him anymore. “Can mommy at least get a congratulations?”

“Congratulations, mom.” Ren responds, and you feel your heart melt. Even when he’s mad at you, he’s your cute little guy. You’re rubbing your cheek with his, being as affectionate as you can be with the little guy. Though he ends up pushing you away, telling you, “You’re doing too much.”

“Jeez, what is it with you? One moment you’re all jealous and the next you’re saying I’m doing too much.” You chuckle, standing up. You take the baby from your fiancé, knowing that she still has a long way before she can tell you that you’re doing too much.

“Can we leave before we bump into any traffic?” Satoru asks, reading the time on his watch. Not that he’s thrilled to go to his mother’s house, but he’d prefer to be there than sitting in traffic for hours on end. He sees your eyes wandering around for the rest of your group but before you get any ideas he reminds you, “You don’t want to sit in a car with a screaming one-year-old, do you?”

“Yeah… I guess we’ll just meet them at your mom’s place.” You answer, knowing that once your baby girl begins to cry, it’s hard to get her to stop. Good thing for you, she’s usually all smiles and giggles.

“She’s drooling.” Ren points at his sister, who’s making a mess on your gown. Ren then turns his attention to his dad, asking, “I wasn’t a messy baby like her, right?”

“I wouldn’t know.” Satoru mutters, and you glare at him.

“Let’s get going.”

The graduation party is for you, a way for Mrs. Gojo to congratulate you on finally finishing your bachelor’s. In reality, it’s a way for her to see her grandchildren. A way for her to spoil Ren and dote on Anzu.

Things between the two of you go back to the way they were: she barely notices you and you don’t acknowledge her. You’re no longer relying on her in any way, and apart from asking about your kids, the woman won’t bother to contact you. She’s fine with the change of you becoming Satoru’s fiancée– And even if she was opposed to it, Satoru won’t listen to her. As a matter of fact, Satoru never calls her first.

You’re in the kitchen, preparing yourself a plate of food, watching as Mrs. Gojo holds your baby. It’s odd to watch her be so… Soft with someone. Sure, she enables Ren and is willing to do anything he wants, but Ren sets the tone. You’ve never watched her with a baby before.

“Who’s my pretty girl?” The woman is putting a baby voice for fuck’s sake, something she never did for her own son. Maybe it’s the fact that she’s just grandma now, she doesn’t have to worry about anything but her grandchildren. Anzu is giggling, so Mrs. Gojo is doing something right.

“I can’t believe that’s my mother.” Satoru approaches you, a little disgusted to watch his mother like this. He should be happy, but it’s a little weird to watch such a cold woman put on a baby voice and entertain a baby. “That is my mother, right? They didn’t change her after her facelift?”

“I’m right here, Satoru. Just because I’m holding a baby doesn’t mean that my ears have disappeared.” She quickly scolds her son, and you can’t help but laugh. “I didn’t get a facelift either.”

“Right, you just spent two months in South Korea touring.” Satoru retorts, grabbing a plate for himself. They begin to bicker, and as entertaining as it is to watch them, you leave them alone to sort out their own issues.

You walk to the living room to find Ren playing with Shoko and Sayo’s baby– Something that he won’t do with his own baby sister. You’re not sure if it’s because she’s not the baby brother that Ren wanted or if it’s because he’s not getting the same amount of attention as before. Sayo keeps a close eye on the child, not because she doesn’t trust him, but because she’s an overprotective mother. You sit beside him, excited to watch him play and be sweet with a baby, even if it isn’t your baby girl.

“He’s so sweet. Is he like this with Anzu?” Sayo asks, ruffling Ren’s hair as he plays peek-a-boo with the ten-month-old baby. You scoff, as if. Your reaction is the best answer that she needs, and she chuckles. She’s not sure if that’s normal behavior between siblings since she’s an only child.

“What do you mean you aren’t the sweetest older brother to Anzu? You were so excited to be a big brother.” Shoko points out, and Ren’s brows come together. He knows he can’t be mean to his auntie Shoko… So he simply glares at her.

“I don’t want to play with your baby anymore.” He responds. It’s his way of punishing Shoko for the question.

“Damn, can’t take any sort of criticism. You really don’t need a DNA test, that’s one hundred percent Satoru’s kid.” Shoko says, which earns a laugh from you.

“Babe…” Sayo says through gritted teeth, which makes Shoko roll her eyes. God forbid she points out one thing.

“He’s just a little jealous, but he loves his baby sister.” You tease him, pinching your baby boy’s cheek, and he puffs out a breath. Maybe he does like her a bit. Ren doesn’t defend himself, deciding that he’s just going to grab some food from your plate as a punishment. Though it isn’t exactly a punishment for you, you’re always happy to watch your baby eat. “Do you want me to make you a plate, honey?”

“I’m not hungry.” He mutters, crossing his arms. He stands up from his seat, and walks to the stairs, planning to go to the room that his grandma has for him. He might not have his parents undivided attention anymore, but at the very least he still has a room that’s full of games that’s just for him (as if he didn’t have one in your home either).

“He really is Satoru’s kid…” Shoko comments when Ren is out of sight, and Sayo scolds her again.

“He is, he looks just like me.” Satoru pops into the living room unannounced, which catches Shoko off guard. He wasn’t supposed to hear that, since it’s a critique of his character but she doesn’t find a care to give. He comes back holding Anzu after nearly having to fight his mother to get her. He sits down next to you, reaching for some of the food on your plate. “But I’m guessing it wasn’t a compliment since it’s coming from you.”

“I can be nice, you know.” Shoko responds, and Satoru laughs as if a joke had just come from her lips. Nice… He’ll believe it when he sees it though. Satoru takes a bite of the food that he’s taken from your plate, and he grimaces.

“Did my mom cook or what? This is disgusting.” Satoru can’t even chew the food. Unluckily for him, he doesn’t have anywhere where he can spit the food so he’s forced to swallow. Anzu is screaming, little hand trying to reach for the food. Satoru covers her eyes, “Don’t even look there, my love. There’s no way I’m letting you eat that.”

“It’s not that bad.” You tell him, tasting the food yourself.

“Well what is it? Am I getting a plate for myself or not?” Shoko asks, reaching over to grab some food from your plate as well. Suddenly your plate has become everyone’s plate; you’re used to it at home with Satoru and Ren, but now Shoko is on the list.

“I wouldn’t trust her with food, she’s always claiming she wants to eat the baby’s cheeks.” Satoru argues, and you click your tongue knowing damn well that he says the same thing.

“Anzu has the cutest, chubbiest cheeks, I understand.” Sayo chimes in before looking at her own baby and kissing his cheeks. Shoko takes a bite, keeping her face neutral as she chews the food.

“It’s not that bad, Satoru. You’re just dramatic.” Shoko responds, and Satoru pouts. He brings some of the food to the baby’s lips– Even though he claimed he wasn’t going to let her taste, he needs someone to prove him right and that someone will be his one-year-old daughter that spits everything back up.

“Taste this, love.” Satoru says as Anzu bites into the food. Within moments it dribbles down her chin, and back into Satoru’s hand. He’s grossed out, but at least his point has been proven. “Anzu doesn’t like it so…”

“Are you trying to prove your point by using a baby that just stopped breastfeeding?” Shoko questions, and Satoru glares at her. She can’t help but chuckle, “Man, your son is just like you.”

“I’m going to talk to him since he appreciates me.” Satoru stands up, and begins to walk to the stairs, but your voice stops him. You call out his name, and he expects some sort of apology from you but instead you ask,

“Have you seen my mom?”

“She popped into the kitchen to talk to my mom.” He answers before leaving. You’re unphased by the response. The women that don’t get along in any other circumstance, sit together to talk about their grandchildren. They can be cordial with each other once every six months.

Though Satoru doesn’t pay much attention to them, his focus right now is on his baby boy that sits alone in the game room. Ren sits down on the floor, reading to himself. Satoru doesn’t want to interrupt the healthy habit, but at the same time he doesn’t want Ren to sit by himself during the party. He takes a moment to wash his hands before joining Ren.

“Why are you here, honey? We’re celebrating your mom downstairs.” Satoru sits down beside Ren on the floor, and he feels ten years older as he hears his bones crack. Ren barely looks up from his book, side-eyeing his sister, which makes Satoru want to roll his eyes. Isn’t he a little too old to be jealous of a baby? Matter of fact, he begged to be a big brother. “What is your issue with her? What has she done to you?”

“Nothin’.” Ren claims, his eyes landing on his book again. Satoru sighs, letting the baby on the floor so she can walk around and do as she pleases. She chooses to stay nearby, walking over to her brother to take the book that he has in his hands. “See.”

“Anzu, go over there. Chew on the power cords.” Satoru redirects her elsewhere, and the baby whines because she wants something else. “So she takes all your stuff, is that why you don’t like her? You have a lot, Ren.”

“Not just my stuff. Everyone likes her better. You, mom, granny, grammy, the nanny. I used to be everyone’s favorite but then the cute baby came along.” Ren confesses, and Satoru fights back the urge of pointing out that he called Anzu cute. It’s not about the baby right now, Satoru reminds himself.

“You’re still everyone’s favorite, Ren.” Satoru tells a little white lie– There are no favorites in the family, he loves both of his kids equally. But the baby can’t understand him, it’s why he told her to chew on a power cord. “Everyone is just excited about the new baby, it’s not that you’re not the favorite anymore.”

“Why does she get away with everything then?” Ren asks as if he didn’t know any better. He’ll act dumb simply because he’s jealous. He doesn’t ask why Sayo and Shoko’s baby gets away with everything, because Ren knows that it’s just a baby… He just doesn’t have the same feelings about Anzu.

“Well for one thing she goes potty in her pants so… She isn’t really conscious about her actions.” Satoru answers, and Ren puffs out a breath. Satoru got him there. “Anzu just needs a lot of attention because she’s–”

“Don’t do that!” Ren cuts off his father when he realizes that Anzu is doing what Satoru told her to do earlier. Ren takes the cord out of her hand, and she lets out a cry. He’s going to complain about her, but he loves her.

“She’ll grow on you.” Satoru says, standing up to grab his walking baby and get out of Ren’s hair. Ren doesn’t like the baby but he certainly loves her. “But come downstairs, Ren. We’re celebrating your mommy’s achievement. She was talking about hanging up her diploma next to your kindergarten diploma.”

“Can you tell them I don’t want to talk about Anzu?” Ren asks, and Satoru hums in response. Satoru extends his hand for Ren to take, and the child takes it without an issue before both head back downstairs to spend time with you.

“What are you doing here?” Satoru approaches you as you sit on the ground outside, in his mother’s garden. You’re hiding from everyone. After hours of talking to people inside, you need a break from the small group.

“Need a minute.” You answer, and Satoru decides to sit down next to you. The kids are fine with their grandmothers, he can take a moment alone with you and properly congratulate you. He throws his arm over your shoulder and brings you close to him. “We should’ve just gone out to eat at a restaurant and called it a day. I don’t have the energy to be so social.”

“I got you a trip to Bora Bora. You just have to power through these last couple of hours… We can get Anzu to throw a fit and make it a few minutes.” He responds and you chuckle. You rest your head on his shoulder and shut your eyes for a moment. Being social shouldn’t be so draining.

“Can we leave the kids with granny?” You ask him, and he hums in response. He had no plans on taking them; he loves them, but they sure know how to ruin a vacation.

Your gaze falls on his face, looking into the blue eyes you fell in love with so long ago. Even though it was an eternity ago, he still makes your heart skip a beat. He doesn’t let you stare for too long before he steals a kiss from you.

“If you stare for too long you might find me ugly.” Satoru tells you and you roll your eyes. If you don’t find him ugly first thing in the morning then you’re definitely not finding him ugly now.

“Are you saying that because–” You begin but the man cuts you off before you can finish your question. He knows you, he knows that you’ll start a petty fight with a dumb question.

“Because I love you so much, and I think I’m not good enough for you– I know I’m not good enough for you, you’re perfect.” Satoru responds, making you grin from ear to ear. He isn’t exactly wrong, he’s lucky that you considered getting back together with him at all.

“I love you too even though you’re…” You bite your tongue before you insult him. He raises a brow and before he can question anything, your lips land on his. His cheeks begin to turn pink when you peck his lips over and over again, feeling like a teenager all over again.

You stare into his eyes when you stop, watching the sparkle in them as he looks back at you. He’s utterly in love with you, and the feeling only gets more intense as time passes. He caresses your face with the back of his hand ever so lovingly. You get lost in his loving eyes until your eyes shift to the flowers behind him.

“Oh my–” You gasp, your eyes widening as you realize. “This is where you used to pick flowers for me?”

“Oh, yeah.” Satoru laughs, turning to pick a lily for you. It’s been years since he’s been in this place. Maybe he should come here more often. “A flower for my flower.”

“Cheesy.” You take it from his hands, wanting to roll your eyes because of his comment– But your face is getting hot. Even when he’s cheesy your heart threatens to beat out of your chest.

“Yeah, cheesy is what got me two kids.” He retorts. “Isn’t that right, Mrs. Gojo?”

“Calling me Mrs. Gojo is going to make you single.” You warn him, and he fights back on laughing. “Don’t make me divorce you before getting married.”

“What? Are you going to Suguru for a rebound again?” Satoru questions, making you glare at him. Maybe he should just listen and agree, not everything needs a response from him. “I’m just joking, baby. He has a girlfriend now and whatnot.”

“You better stick to your day job, you have no future as a comedian.” You say, standing up from the ground to go back inside, and of course, Satoru follows like a lost puppy. He’s simply lost without you.

You love spending time with your kids, you love them more than anything– But you’re not going to pass up on the opportunity of a sleepover. Having them off your hands for the night is a blessing sometimes. You simply want to celebrate with your fiancé in a way that your kids make difficult.

“I’ll run you a bath.” Satoru tells you, running to go upstairs to get to the bathroom before you. Running you a bath that he’ll end up joining, that’s not too bad. It’s a nice way to end the night, that you know for sure.

You give him a moment to set everything up, pulling out your phone to answer a couple of messages of people congratulating you for finishing your degree. What’s next? You’re not too sure. But whatever you decide it’s fine. You have Satoru and your kids by your side no matter what. The money also helps.

Right now, you know you want to relax in a bathtub full of bubbles. Maybe have Satoru right next to you. You’ve been looking into the future for the past ten years, for once you just want to sit back and appreciate the moment.

“Are you coming?!” You hear Satoru as you walk up the stairs. He’s so impatient, he can’t even wait a minute. You won’t hurry up to please him, as a matter of fact, you walk slower. Satoru is tapping his foot on the floor when you finally get to the bedroom.

“Finally.” He says, walking over to you to zip down the zipper that holds your dress together. He’s desperate to get you naked. You’re chuckling, reminding him,

“No need for you to be in a rush, we have all night.” But it goes in one ear and out the other. Before you know it, he turns you around, his lips landing on yours. His kiss is full of desire, needing to feel your every touch on his skin. He’s burning up to feel you.

“Fuck, I want you so fucking bad.” He pulls away from the kiss as the dress drops to the ground. He picks you up from the floor and puts you down on the bed, smirking at the black lingerie that will soon be removed. “So perfect for me, love.”

“Fuck me, Satoru.” You tell him, voice seductive that can get him to drop to his knees in an instant. The bath that’s filled up and with bubbles is long forgotten by both of you. He takes off his shirt and pants, leaving his briefs. Your eyes stare at the tent that makes him ever so uncomfortable. You sit up on the bed, your fingers going directly to the erection.

Your index finger goes underneath the band of his underwear, eyes looking up at him as you pull his briefs down. Your eyes quickly avert to his cock, wrapping around the base of it. You slowly move your hand from base to tip as pre-cum leaks from the tip. Your tongue licks it up, circling around it as the man bites down on his lip.

Your mouth wraps around all it can take, bobbing your head slowly. You take what your mouth can handle. He can’t complain because it’s just perfect. Everything you do in Satoru’s eyes is perfect. The pace is slow, but it gradually gets faster.

You look up at him to find him biting his lip, his eyes shut. You take his cock out of your mouth, and begin to run your hand up and down his shaft, your saliva serving as a lubricant. He finally opens his eyes to look down at you, but his teeth remain on his bottom lip.

“I want to hear you.” You say, a rather demanding tone in your voice. He stops biting down on his lip, and your hand continues to jerk him off for a couple of seconds before your mouth wraps around his cock again.

He’s groaning at your every move, which is like music to your ears. You look up at him to find him looking back down at you. He knows you’re more than satisfied with him, with how he sounds. It’s nice to be as loud as he wants to be, without worrying about someone barging in.

You try to take his whole length in your mouth, making you gag. Tears quickly form in your eyes as you remove your mouth from his cock, and try again. He throws his head back, breathy moans escaping his lips at your every move.

You take your mouth off his cock and begin to jerk him off. Your mouth goes to his balls and you begin to suck on them. Satoru got louder and louder by the second, his release approaching.

Your mouth goes back to his cock while your hands begin to play with his balls. It doesn’t take too long for his cum to hit the back of your throat. Your mouth remains on his cock for a couple of seconds before pulling away. You make sure to swallow all the cum, sticking your tongue out for him to see and proudly admire.

“My good girl.” He praises you. He reaches behind to unhook your bra and slide it off you. Once it’s off, he desperately tries to take off your panties. It’s unexpected when he gets on the bed and lays down. You crawl to where he is, positioning yourself on top of him. You get ready to ride him, but it takes you by surprise when your fiancé says, “Sit on my face.”

“Are you sure?” You ask, though it’s not unusual from Satoru.

“Just come here and sit.” He responds. You do what he wants, but you are hesitant to fully sit down. He’s the one who pushes you down onto him. His tongue is quick to wander around your cunt.

His tongue begins to flick your clit over and over again, making low moans leave your lips. His arms go over your thighs, pushing you down further. You’d be worried about him breathing, if you weren’t too focused on how his tongue moves around your pussy.

“Toru!” You moan. Your moans serve as encouragement, and are a sweet reward for the man, moving his tongue faster. His tongue stops flicking your clit, and moves down to your hole. He teases you, threatening to enter but never really doing it.

“Baby please.” You beg. His tongue finally enters your cunt. You shut your eyes, getting lost in the feeling. But out of the two of you, Satoru is enjoying it more. He finally takes his tongue out and goes back to your clit.

He begins to suck on your clit, and you swear you see stars as your orgasm builds up. Your hips raise a bit, but he pushes you back down. You get louder and louder. “I’m gonna- fuck- gonna cum-”

You moan loudly as you reach your climax, his tongue still working wonders. A minute later he stops, and you get off him, sitting down on his torso. He raises himself a bit, not completely to sit up but enough to wrap his hand around your throat and pull you into a lewd kiss.

“Should we continue in the bath?” Satoru asks when he pulls away and you can’t nod your head more frantically. You get off the bed and practically run to the bath. Satoru gets in the bathtub first, and you follow behind.

“You’re so lucky.” You point out as your back presses against his chest. He’s never doubted it. He peppers your neck with kisses, while you align his cock with your entrance. You lower yourself on his cock.

“How about another baby?” Satoru asks, making you click your tongue while you begin to move.

“Leave me alone” You reply, and he wants to chuckle but he’s biting down his lip as he feels your pussy wrap around him. He loves your mouth but it can’t compare to this.

He’s kissing your back, showing you how much he loves you in every possible way as you move up and down his cock. His hand moves down to play with your clit, making you shut your eyes. Every little touch is enough to make you insane lately and Satoru loves to touch you.

“You’re so perfect around me, baby.” Satoru whispers into your ear before nibbling on your earlobe.

You’re softly moaning his name, your walls tightening around him. You’re so close to finishing. You’ve been so touch deprived lately since your schedules make spending time with each other impossible– Maybe now you’ll have more time to spend with each other.

“Fuck–” You curse as you finish on his cock. You hold to the edge of the bathtub as Satoru continues to move in and out of you.

He’s not going to last long. It’s too hard for him to contain himself when he’s inside of you. He comes to a complete stop when he finally reaches his release, finishing inside of you. He remains buried inside of you as you pant to catch your breaths, but after a minute you lift yourself and take his cock out of you.

“What do you want to do tomorrow?” Satoru asks, hands caressing your arms as your head goes to his chest.

“Just sleep.” You answer as Satoru kisses the top of your head. He squeezes your hand before bringing it up to his lips to press a subtle kiss on it. “I need to get some rest.”

“Sleep sounds nice.” Satoru responds. You’re getting comfortable in the bathtub as your eyes begin to get heavy. You’re tired. Satoru notices and he splashes you, “Don’t fall asleep in the bathtub, love.”

“Just carry me to the bed.” You reply, making him roll his eyes playfully. He can, but if you don’t drag him out he’ll stay in the water and get all pruny. He’s warm by your side, too comfortable to leave. This is the reality he wanted ten years ago, and he finally has it. He’s not leaving this comfort no matter what gets in the way.

You’ll be the one to get up first and drag him out, that’s how it usually is in the morning. But you’re falling asleep. He doesn’t want to disturb you either. So he’ll just stay in the bathtub.

“Don’t let me get all pruny, Satoru. Carry me out.” You warn him, and he hums in response. He’ll have to eventually because you’ll end up killing him if you wake up in ten hours, and you’re still in the bathroom.

“You know Ren is going to call later to say goodnight?” He points out, but you don’t care to talk about it. You’re sleepy. He kisses the top of your head when he’s met with silence. He mutters softly to not disturb your peace,

“I love you. Goodnight, baby.”

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cherriesformatt · 2 days

Text

sick || matt sturniolo

matt x fem!reader

summary: reader is taking care of sick Matt

warnings: pure fluff

word count: 1k

a/n: how can you be sick and still looking like matt did? I think its only him...

I was excited to see Matt but in the same time I knew something was off when he texted me this morning to come over but than he did not answer anymore. Him and his brothers were doing this challenge that they are separated for a week for the first time and today Nick left for Japan with Madison and Matt was left alone. I was off work now so I decided to drive to his house. I walked in using my finger print on their lock and locked the door back behind me.

“Matt?” I called but no one answered me.

I frowned and walked up the stairs and when I did not see him on the couch or in the kitchen I went to his room. It was all dark so I left the doors open to see.

“Matt?” I asked and I looked at him. He was in the bed wrapped in his comforter.

I came closer and sat down next to him. He was sleeping. His cheeks were flushed and his hair were sticking to his sweaty forehead. I saw an empty bottle of water and termometr on this night stand.

“Oh my poor baby” I whispered.

I didn’t see him for some time now and all I wanted to do now was to snuggle with him and take care of him. I was so sad he got sick on the week he was off work and stuff. It’s like his body knew it could let go.

I took my attention back to him as he started to cough and he quickly sat down and sneezed.

“Hi baby” I sad smiling sadly and have him a tissue from the night stand.

“Y/n what are you doing here? What time is it?” He asked with his very raspy voice.

“It’s past 5, you are sick. Why didn’t you text me? I would bring you stuff” I said.

He looked at me as he cleaned his nose and he put away the used napkin.

“I’m sorry baby, I practically slept the whole day I knew I was going to text you but my phone was too far away. I feel like shit” he said.

“I can’t believe ve I got sick and can’t kiss you right now. I missed you so much” he said with a very sad tone and his eyes dropped.

“Shhh… it’s okay” I came closer and I wrapped my arms around him. He didn’t protest and rested his head on my shoulder.

“Did you take anything for the fever?” I asked and when he shook his head I rolled my eyes.

“Okay. Do you guys even have any medicine at home?” I asked again and he shook his head again.

“Dear God Matt what was your plan? Die from fever and dehydration? “ I rubbed his back.

“You’re all sweaty… you should shower to feel a bit better and I’ll change your sheets and will DoorDash everything we need to make you feel better” I say moving away a bit.

He looked at me and nod. He rested his back in the bed and looked around and grabbed his phone from under all the pillows and he handed it to me.

“Use my DoorDash with my card please” he said and I didn’t want to argue with him looking like that.

I stand up and I offer him my arm to help him get up and when he does he instantly shivers.

“Okay… sit down I’ll go and turn water on so the bathroom will be warm for you” I said and quickly went to do that and than when we was in the shower I got him fresh pj’s and put it in the bathroom for him as well as I change his sheets and order things. I ordered medicine, stuff for making soup and pasta, electrolytes and his favorite drinks and snacks.

I went around living room and kitchen to tidy a bit and put a blanket on the couch.

“You are the best…” he said as he stepped into the living room.

“Go seat on the couch the stuff will be there soon. I’ll make soup and homemade pasta. It will take some time but I know how much you like” I say and he comes closer to me and brings me back to his chest.

“I’m sorry I’m sick….” He whispered.

“Don’t be sorry it’s not like you could control it. It’s all good I want you to rest and let me take care of you without worrying” I kissed his cheek.

“I wish I could kiss you but I don’t want you to get sick” he said moving away.

“ I know….” I smiled and send him on the couch again.

When the stuff got here, he took the meds and I started cooking. He needed to vlog so he did w bit.

“Matt for the love of good put this hoodie back on. How can you have 101 fever and look this good? Also never mind get under the fucking blankets or no soup for you” I said I noticed him shirtless.

“But it’s so hot, this meds broke me. What if I’m dying?” He asked looking at me from the couch.

“You’re not, you are just a man with a cold right now. I know it might seems like dying but you’re not” I said very seriously.

He rolled his eyes on me and got under the blanket. When food was ready we were eating it on the couch and talking a bit about Nick and Chris and his time in Boston when I was telling him about work and what I was doing when he wasn’t here when I’d we talked almost every day.

“Thank you for the food it was so good. I feel so much better now” he said and he lay down with his head in my lap.

“You know what always makes me feel better when I’m sick?” I asked with w smile and started to play with his hair.

“I know, I know. We can watch Harry Potter movies together “ he said.

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

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luveline · 8 hours

Note

jade!! can we please get something with junie’s mom and eddie? <3 missing them today

thank you for requesting! 1.3k

Eddie met you two weeks after you moved into the park, he’s pretty sure. Your baby ran out down the road because you didn’t know that all the trailers have the same bum lock, and she ended up on the Munson porch trying to get back home.

He still remembers how she could barely talk. He had no idea how quickly babies explode with words.

“Love you.” Junie smiles up at him, her waiting for a reciprocation all the more impressive. She’s just turned three, and Eddie would argue she doesn’t look it. She’s still a baby in his head.

“I love you,” he says, leaning down to tap their noses together.

“Can I have a hug?”

Just a few short months ago she would’ve shouted “Hug!” and dove into his neck, or said nothing at all. He doesn’t see why that should change.

“Babe, you don’t have to ask,” he says, wrapping his arms around her.

She sighs in contentment, relaxing under his hand where he pulls it up and down her back. She’s getting bigger. Eddie can’t believe she’s already three. Where the hell does the time go? Days, weeks slip away.

But at least they’re with you. God, he can’t believe they’re with you.

“I’m feeling left out,” you say, laying on the floor of the trailer with your hands held over your chest. You’d been colouring with June a half hour ago, but she got bored fast and left you there. You’ve yet to get up.

Eddie twists June in his lap so she can see you. He hugs her, and he presses his face to the top of her head, one eye open to see you and the other screwed closed. “You want us to come over?” he asks.

You think about it. “No. I’m too tired to hug.”

You’re always tired. Eddie knows that there’s a life he could give you one day where you don’t have to work. He’s not sure you’d let him, but he’d like to get promoted and move you out. He’d like to ask you properly to be his forever, to be permanent, and to live together as a family. Wayne’s telling him not to rush into things, but he really didn’t. You and Eddie were friends for half a year before he finally couldn’t take it anymore, and he doesn’t see that time as wasted, but he knows now that getting to kiss you is something he missed out on.

Plus, being your boyfriend means he’s actually allowed to take care of you without dousing you in shame. You like being looked after. It’s why Eddie works a ten hour shift and comes straight home to you, so he can fold your laundry and you can get some rest.

Every time you yawn, it’s a reminder for Eddie that he’s not making your life as easy as he could. (It’s not a healthy way to think about it. It’s not your fault or his that life is hard. But he thinks about it anyway.)

Eddie gives June a kiss behind the ear and sets her down in the corner of the couch. He grins at her as he does, hoping for a detachment without tears, popping his head into his hand in mock nonchalance. “Babe, I’m gonna go hug your mom back to life. I’ll be right back. Cool?”

“Cool.”

Eddie pats her knee and she sits back to watch as he drops to the floor on his knees, crawling around crayons and gel pens and markers to your side. You laugh, flinching as his hand lands on your stomach, but he’s not there to tickle you. He holds your face in the other hand, really holds it, bending time. The mental snapshot he takes of you tired and lovely regardless can join an endless gallery.

“You’re beautiful,” he says.

“So are you.”

“You want some help getting up?” he asks.

You nod your affirmation. Eddie slides his hands under your arms, murmurs a too tender, “I got you,” as you sit up. He stands and pulls you with him, half drags your tired limbs to the couch where your girl is still sitting patiently.

He puts you down. Kisses your cheek, throws a blanket across your knees. He picks Junie up to sit where she’d been in the corner and promptly settles with her on his thigh, the other arm open.

“We’re napping?” Junie asks.

“Would that be okay?” Eddie asks. “Mom’s tired.”

“I’m not tired,” Junie says.

“I know, baby, me neither. I was thinking we’d just lay here and hug mommy for a while, and then we’d have lunch.”

“I don’t need a nap,” you say, though your eyes are heavy, darting to the empty place in his arms carved out especially for you.

“Then just hug me,” Eddie whispers. Commanding, disbelieving, he knows you’ll be dozing in five minutes or less. All you need is a little light goading.

You lay against his side. Junie wiggles to be on her front, chest to chest with Eddie as he sinks down. He kicks up his legs beside you, the three of you collapsing inward, his favourite girls in the world.

There’s argument on if you can choose your family or not. Eddie doesn’t remember choosing you, just suddenly knowing you, and ever so slowly loving. He loves your face, your arms, the way you breathe. He loves how you turn into his chest and how you seem thrilled to be there, your hand coasting a loving line across him, fingers pressing into his stomach. It’s like you’re waving on his skin. He has no idea where you learned how to touch someone with that much love, but he leans down to kiss the skin just shy of your hairline so you know he feels it.

Junie’s all little legs and sweetness as she yawns on his shoulder. “Mom, can I have some… some blanky?”

You pull it off your legs to cover hers. Eddie squares it up. Everyone covered, he lets his head tip back against the couch.

He’s not tired. He doesn’t think he’ll sleep. You fall asleep first in a slow series of exhales he knows well, that deepening, your fingers growing still against his t-shirt.

Junie goes second. She squirms at first, not wanting to give in, but Eddie’s getting better at his dad-pats. He finds the space on her lower back, her off button ever since he’s known her, and he taps his hand against it until she’s breathing heavily against his neck.

“Eddie?” she asks tiredly.

“What, rockstar?”

“Goodnight.”

He scratches her back lightly. “Goodnight, sweetheart. Do you need me to take you to bed?”

“No. We can sleep on you.”

“Who should I sleep on?” he whispers.

She shakes her head. Unhappy with his question, or maybe her nose is itchy. She falls asleep with her face pressed to his chest a few seconds later, leaving Eddie awake and unsure of what to do now. He trapped himself.

He can’t find it in himself to mind, worried first about boredom, and then struck with a realisation. How could he ever be bored with you under his arm?

He has time now to trace your nose, count your eyelashes, whatever he likes.

“Love you,” he says, pressing his nose to your head.

It takes a few seconds. “Love you,” you murmur.

He rubs your arm until you’re sleeping again. It was selfish of him to wake you, but he’d wanted to hear it.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson scenario #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #June baby universe

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itneverendshere · 1 day

Note

you going to jj’s little graduation, and you’re giving proud mom. even if he’s towering over you in his cap, and you’re pinching his cheeks, and as always rafes in awe of how much of natural caretaker

i'm a sucker for these three dynamic 😭😭😭😭 so i also added a little kie bc jj deserves all the teasing in the world after he made rafe's life miserable the past year🤭 hope you enjoy!🩵🫂

you've got no reason to be afraid - r.c

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe)

Rafe never wanted to go to this thing.

No, really. It wasn’t even one of those "I don’t wanna go, but deep down I actually care" moments. He genuinely didn’t want to show up.

Because honestly, why the hell was he going to JJ Maybank's graduation?

You dragged him here, and yeah, he was pretending to hate it every second of it, but...okay, maybe he was…a little proud of the guy for making it out alive. Sue him.

You’re buzzing around like a proud mom, and it’s almost hard to look at. Not because it’s annoying—okay, maybe it’s a little annoying—but more because it’s… god, he doesn’t even know. It’s just you.

You can’t help it. The whole natural caretaker thing, how you swoop in and take care of people like you’re born to do it.

Rafe’s leaning against the wall while you’re annoying JJ, pinching his cheeks like he's still that scrappy little kid you saved from his old man’s rage. His stupid graduation cap keeps sliding off his head, and every time you fix it, he grins like an idiot.

The guy's taller than you, but it’s almost like it doesn’t matter.

"You’re not gonna cry, are you?" JJ teases, standing there in his cap and gown like some kinda of scholar. It's hard to take it seriously, to be honest.

You roll your eyes at him, "Shut up, Maybank. I’m allowed to be proud of you." You reach up again, smoothing down the collar of his gown, and it hits Rafe how much you care about this.

He crosses his arms tighter over his chest, trying his best not to look too invested in the scene playing out in front of him. You’re still fussing over JJ, like some proud older sister at her little brother’s first big milestone, and Rafe… well, he’s trying not to roll his eyes for the third time in five minutes.

He pushes off the wall, just enough to glance at his phone, scrolling through his notifications to look busy, like he’s not watching this whole thing happen. He catches a glimpse of you laughing—JJ making some dumb joke about how he can’t believe he even graduated in the first place.

He didn’t get it at first. How could someone who’s been through what you’ve been through still have the energy to care about people like this?

Especially about someone like JJ? The scrappy, no-good kid from The Cut who spent more time getting into fights and drinking than actually passing his classes. But that’s the thing about you—you never gave up on people, even when everyone else had.

"You’re staring," you tease, glancing back at him with a grin, breaking his train of thought. "You okay over there, baby?"

Rafe straightens up, wiping the expression off his face before you can see too much. He’s quick to shrug, playing it off like he’s too cool to care about whatever’s going on. "Yeah, I’m fine," he mutters, locking his phone and slipping it back in his pocket. "Just wondering how long this is gonna take."

"Uh-huh." You’re not buying it for a second, but you let it slide. You know him better than anyone else, after all, “Get your ass here. We’re taking a picture.”

He sighs, letting out a dramatic huff like this is the worst thing he’s ever been asked to do. "You serious?" he groans, but he’s already pushing himself off the wall and walking over to where you’re standing with JJ.

“Dead serious,” you shoot back, giving him that look—the one that always gets him to do what you want, even when he’s trying to act like he’s above it.

JJ’s got that shit-eating grin on his face, the one that says he knows Rafe’s just playing tough. He slings an arm over your shoulders like it’s the most natural thing in the world, and Rafe’s eyes narrow, his possessiveness showing before he can even stop himself.

“Relaaaax, man,” JJ teases, catching the look. “You’re gonna burst a vein.”

He rolls his eyes but steps closer, standing right beside you as you hand your phone to some random kid to take the picture. The three of you huddle together and you pull Rafe in by his shirt, snuggling into his side like you always do, and despite himself, he can’t help the small smile that tugs at his lips. Not enough for anyone else to notice—he’s too stubborn for that—but you feel it.

You always do.

The camera clicks, and just like that, the moment’s captured—JJ in his stupid graduation gear, you looking like a proud mom, and Rafe standing there like he’s not sure how he ended up a part of this weird little family, but maybe, just maybe, he’s okay with it.

“Alright, picture’s done. Can we leave now?” Rafe grumbles, already half-turned toward the parking lot.

You step in front of him to block his way. “Oh no, you’re not getting off that easy. We’re going to the party.” Your voice has that no-nonsense tone, the one that makes him groan because he knows you mean business.

JJ laughs again, clapping Rafe on the back. “C’mon, man. You can survive a couple hours with us. Plus, there’s free beer.”

He arches a brow. “Free beer?”

“Yep. Keg’s already set up back at John B’s place,” JJ says, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Fine,” Rafe groans, but he doesn’t actually mind. Not when you’re looking at him like that—like he’s the only thing you want standing next to you, even if it’s at some ridiculous party in the Cut. In his little sister’s boyfriends house of all places. Sarah and John B’s on-again, off-again thing is enough drama for one lifetime.

“But I’m not carrying your ass home when you get shitfaced.”

JJ smirks, patting his gown. “I’ll be fine, man. I graduated today. I’m an adult now.”

Rafe snorts. “Yeah, we’ll see how long that lasts.”

You’re already pulling Rafe toward the car, glancing back at JJ with a grin. “Come on. Let’s celebrate while you still have time to pretend you’re responsible.”

JJ’s talking a mile a minute, the entire drive, from the backseat, already planning out how he’s going to "run the party" and bragging about the free booze like it’s the highlight of his life. Rafe tunes most of it out, too focused on you, the warmth of your hand lingering even after you’ve let go. By the time you pull up to John B’s place, the sun’s starting to set and the yard is already half full with the Pogues. Kie’s there, Sarah too, probably.

You park, and before Rafe can even make a move, JJ’s already jumped out, tossing his cap onto the grass as he heads toward the keg. "Let’s get this party started bitches!" he shouts, and the small crowd cheers in response.

Great.

He climbs out of the car, walking around to meet you on the driver’s side. “You sure about this?” he asks, glancing toward the crowd. He’s not exactly best friends with these guys, and parties in the Cut… well, they’re not really his scene.

But you smile up at him, reaching for his hand and threading your fingers through his. "Yeah, I’m sure. You’ll survive, baby.”

He huffs, but when you start pulling him toward the party, he lets you. He always lets you. You weave your way through the small crowd of pogues, most of whom nod or wave at him but don’t bother trying to talk to him.

You glance back, grinning as you lead the way toward the makeshift party area. “You’re not gonna hide in the corner the whole time, are you?” you tease, giving his hand a playful squeeze.

Rafe rolls his eyes but follows you, his free hand shoving into his pocket. “No promises,” he says, though a small part of him is already resigning to the fact that you’re probably going to drag him into the middle of everything by the end of the night.

Everything's already in full swing by the time you both find a spot near the keg. JJ’s surrounded by a group of people, handing out beers like it’s his personal mission to get everyone drunk. John B and Sarah are off to the side, leaning against the porch railing, sharing a laugh. Disgusting.

You flash him a smile before heading off to grab drinks, leaving him standing awkwardly near the keg, trying his best to avoid making eye contact with anyone.

He’s mid-scroll on his phone again when he hears JJ’s voice call out, “Yo, Rafe!”

Rafe glances up, already preparing himself for whatever shit JJ’s about to throw his way.

“Don’t tell me you’re just gonna stand there like some grumpy old man. You’re at my graduation party, man! You gotta at least try to have fun.” JJ’s grinning from ear to ear, clearly already a few beers in.

Rafe snorts, shaking his head. “I’m here, aren’t I? That’s gotta count for something.”

JJ laughs, clapping him on the shoulder. “Yeah, yeah. You’re right. Just didn’t think I’d see Rafe Cameron at a pogue party, y'know?”

“Don’t make me punch you in the face."

JJ grins again, but there’s something a little more genuine in his expression this time. “For real though, man. Thanks for coming. I know this isn’t your scene.”

Rafe’s about to answer with his usual sarcasm, but he catches the sincerity in JJ’s tone and decides to let it slide. He nods, his voice gruff as he says, “Yeah. Congrats, Maybank. You deserve it.”

JJ’s grin widens, and he raises his beer in a mock toast. “Thanks, man. Appreciate it.”

Before he can say anything else, you’re back with two beers in hand, nudging one toward him. “Here you go. Now you’ve got no excuse to look so miserable.”

Rafe takes the beer from you with a half-smirk, but his eyes are soft as he glances down at you. “I don’t look miserable.”

You raise an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. “Sure.”

He chuckles, taking a sip of his beer. It’s cheap, of course, and not exactly his taste, but he doesn’t complain. Not when you’re standing so close, looking up at him like you can see right through all his bullshit. He watches you for a moment, the way you light up around these people, the way you float between them like you’re the glue holding everyone together does something to his heart.

Rafe leans back, his arm draped loosely around your waist as you chat with Kie and JJ, laughing at some dumb story JJ’s telling about getting caught sneaking into class late one too many times. He can’t help but wonder how you do it. The nights you spent bailing JJ out when his dad got too wasted and violent. How you’d sneak him into your place, covering up the bruises and making sure he had somewhere to crash for the night.

“Hey,” your voice pulls him out of his thoughts. “You okay? You’re staring again.”

Rafe blinks, realizing he’s been zoning out, watching you again. “Yeah,” he mutters, clearing his throat. “Just thinking.”

You tilt your head, curiosity flickering in your eyes. “About?”

“How much I love you.”

JJ gags, “Shut the fuck up.”

Kie slaps him in the back, “Shut up, it’s cute.”

Rafe lets out a low chuckle, glancing over at JJ. "Jealous, Maybank?"

JJ takes a long swig of his beer, rolling his eyes dramatically. “Oh, please. I’m not jealous of your sappy shit.”

“Sure you’re not,” He drawls, leaning back with a smirk. “Not like you’ve been drooling over Kie all year or anythin’.”

Kie’s eyes widen, her face flushing just enough to make it obvious, “What the hell are you talking about?” She shoots Rafe a glare, but there’s no real venom behind it.

His grin only widens. “Oh, come on. You think I haven’t noticed? You two have been dancing around each other for what, months now?”

JJ chokes on his beer, coughing. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. That’s not—”

But Rafe’s not letting up. He’s enjoying this way too much. “Dude, just admit it. You’ve been into her forever, and honestly, we’re all sick of watching you act like you don’t.”

Kie crosses her arms, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, really? You’re sick of it?”

“Yeah,” Rafe deadpans, “Everyone knows. Hell, even John B probably knows, and that guy’s oblivious to everything except Sarah.”

JJ groans, rubbing his hand over his face. “You’re seriously gonna make this about me?”

“Yep,” Rafe grins, “Payback’s a bitch, huh?”

He knows Rafe’s just messing with him. He’s been down bad for Kie for as long as he can remember, but every time he gets close, something stops him. The friendship, the fear of messing it up, maybe just the fact that he doesn’t think he deserves her. Rafe’s seen it all before.

Kie, for her part, just rolls her eyes. “Boys are so fucking dumb.”

You laugh, nudging Rafe in the ribs. “Stop torturing him. It’s his big day.”

Rafe huffs, a smirk still playing on his lips. “I’m just saying, if I had to deal with all the crap about you and me, it’s only fair he gets his turn.”

“Yeah, well, maybe JJ needs a little push,” you glance between the two of them. “You gonna make a move, Maybank? Or you planning on dragging this out for another year?”

JJ looks at you, then at Kie, then back at Rafe, who’s clearly enjoying every second of this. “You guys suck,” he mutters, grabbing another beer and stalking off toward the keg, leaving Kie standing there, cheeks still a little red, though she’s doing her best to look unbothered.

Rafe watches him go, then turns back to Kie. “He’s a mess, but you already know that.”

Kie sighs, shaking her head. “Yeah, I do.” Her voice softens,“But he’s my mess, I guess.”

You smile, giving Kie a knowing look. “Took you long enough to admit it.”

Kie glares at you playfully, but there’s no hiding the tiny smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “Oh, shut up.”

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pitchsidestories · 1 day

Text

all's well that ends well II Lucy Bronze x Reader

masterlist I word count: 2010

a/n: hi, we hope you enjoy the full length oneshot to the snippet we posted last week. 🫶🏻

“You!”

Your voice was high-pitched and cracked slightly at the end of the question.

You didn’t care.

There was no way, she was actually here. You had heard the rumours but hadn’t believed any of it. And now she was actually here, right in front of your eyes, on the Chelsea training grounds.

She actually did it.

You watched her through narrowed eyes, subconsciously clenching your jaw.

She smiled brightly at you: “Yes, me. Good morning to you too, pretty girl.“

There it was, that typical smug smile. Lucy Bronze, just like you wanted to forget her.

“Don’t call me that.“, you warned her.

Bad enough that she was here, you didn’t need her stupid remarks.

She remained unbothered, teasing you some more: “Oh, someone woke up in a bad mood.“

“No, only still stuck in a nightmare called Lucy Bronze.“, you replied, taking in the unfamiliar sight of her in the blue Chelsea training shirt.

From the look on her face she clearly interpreted it as you checking her out.

You cringed.

“A nightmare, huh?”, she repeated with a grin.

You wanted nothing more than to wipe that stupid self-assured smile off her face.

“Dressed in Chelsea colours. Why did you come back? And of all clubs you had to choose mine?!”

You half-expected her to crack another joke but instead, her face turned serious.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t come here for you. I came for what the club had to offer.“

“In other words, Barca didn’t want you anymore.“, you taunted her.

You watched, waiting to see her face fall but it never did. She just cocked her head and replied: “Cold. But essentially yes, they didn’t guarantee me a spot in the starting squad so I left.“

Before you could stop yourself, you released a humourless laugh.

Following Lucys confused look, you explained: “You always leave when it gets uncomfortable. See you on the pitch.“

You turned around and took exactly two steps towards the football pitch before you heard Lucy catching up to you.

“What’s that supposed to mean? If you really think that you don’t know me well enough.“, she asked, her voice finally conveying some anger.

“Oh, I do know you.“, you shrugged and left her standing on the sideline of the pitch, joining your teammates for the warm-up.

To your surprise, she jogged up next to you, clearly not done with the conversation yet. “Sure. Of course you know me better than I know myself. You’ve always been such a know-it-all.“

You huffed in offence but before you could protest, she increased her pace and left your side.

In her place, Sam Kerr appeared with a curious look on her face: “Wait, you and Bronzey got history?”

“Yes, it was a long time ago though and I don’t want to talk about it, okay.”, you revealed reluctantly.

“Aw man, I love a good break up story.”, the Australian forward replied pouting.

“I know you do Sammy, but you won’t hear that one.”, you told her.

“I’ll figure it out sooner or later.”, she declared confidently.

“Don’t you dare asking Lucy about us.”, you warned your teammate.

“I’m sure she’ll tell me.”, Sam responded winking.

Much to her actual surprise the English defender did open up towards her, once it was just the two of them in an empty room.

“Our story is quick to tell we were together for quite a while, I went to another club, so we tried to do long distance, yet it didn’t work out.”

“And she thinks it’s your fault?”, Sam questioned.

“Obviously and she’s talking about comfortable all she has ever known is English football.”, the older woman shrugged.

The forward took a moment to think about what she just said before humming. “Oh, this is going to be a very interesting season.”

“Admittedly, I did a few things wrong in the past and there isn’t much I regret but these I do.” Memories of the moment Lucy regretted the most passed behind her inner eye.

“That’s too much information. I didn’t come for a deep dive.”, Sam intervened chuckling.

“Come on girls, don’t dally.”, Millie who stood in the doorframe called for them.

“She thinks she has something to say around here now that she has an honours doctorate.”, the forward rolled her eyes playfully.

“We’re ready, Doctor Bright.”, the dark-haired defender reassured the blonde with a teasing grin on her lips.

“Good to hear, Doctor Bronze.”, Millie answered happily.

A few days had passed since your conversation with your ex-girlfriend. During and post training you tried your best to ignore her. You were about to leave the Chelsea grounds, but a familiar voice held you back.

“Can we talk?”

“Now?”, you wanted to know.

“Yes.”, Lucy nodded.

“Fine, but be quick, I don’t have much time.”, you stated in an icy tone crossing your arms impatiently.

“Then you’ve to make some time.”, she emphasized.

“What do you want to talk about?”, you asked short-temperedly.

“About us. This is getting ridiculous. How’re we supposed to play together when you ignore me all the time?”, the defender countered eagerly awaiting your response.

The late afternoon light enhanced her tan, and her green eyes were glowing. You couldn’t help to admire the woman in front of you, but when you remembered what happened between you two and acid formed in your mouth, so you spat out words as cruel as the taste of that. Sentences you knew would hurt her.

“You’re less quick and sharp nowadays. Also how am I supposed to trust you on and off the pitch?”

Lucy blinked at you. Her face frozen, not slightest slip. Shaking her head, she replied: “You really have a way of making someone feel welcome here.“

“I’m normally more welcoming to our new signings… making sure they settle well into London…“

You stopped yourself from continuing and bit your lip. Why did you now feel the need to prove to her that your were actually good person?

“But not to me, I got it.“, she said, almost reading your exact next thought. She should know that you didn’t welcome her here.

“You’re a whole different story.“, you said plainly.

Your eyes suddenly caught sight of her arms crossed in front of herself. The little hairs stood up, small bumps forming around them. She had goosebumps.

“You’ll need a jacket. The evenings can already get cold.“, you advised her, trying to let no empathy seep through.

At once, you felt glad that you remembered to wear a long-sleeved shirt to training. You absentmindedly pulled the sleeves over your hands.

Your ex just rolled her eyes: “You act like I’ve never been to England.“

“You’re freezing. I can see that from here.“

“Yeah, this is obviously not Barcelona. But I’m not new here.“, she replied with clear annoyance.

You refused to let her have the point. “True but you never played in London though.“

“No, I didn’t.“

“See.“

It was petty but you won. You turned to walk away from her like you had done so many times in the past few days but again she wouldn’t let you. Her hand wrapped around your wrist, pulling you back in one swift movement.

“Where are you going? We’re not done here.“

You sighed in frustration: “I won’t ignore you in training anymore. Happy?”

“No.“

“There’s more?”, you frowned at her.

“Of course, it’s not done with that.“

Eyebrows raised, you waited for an explanation: “So?”

“We should talk about us too. And what happened.“, she suggested.

Your heart stopped for a second, your lungs felt deprived of air and you couldn’t do anything but stare at her for a second. There was no way you would bring that break up back again. You both knew how it had ended.

“Another time, okay?”

“Y/n…“

You forced yourself to a half-smile: “See you tomorrow.“

You found yourself in the starting line-up for the next friendly at Stamford Bridge. You would be playing on the right wing, in front of Lucy. And despite all your doubts, the game went well.

More than well, to be honest. It was like you had never been apart. Lucys typical runs forward gave you the opportunity to move towards the centre and position yourself in the penalty areas. One of her crosses was so precise that you only had to tilt your head to put the ball into the net.

“Amazing game, girls. The season is off to a great start.“, Millie cheered as she high-fived you way too hard.

“Yeah, thanks for the assist, Luce.“

“You’re welcome. I still know your movements on the pitch.”, Lucy waved it off while the look on her face was melancholic. There was a hint of fondness in her voice too.

“And I’m sorry for what I said about your playing style.”, you bit your lip guiltily.

“I know.”, the defender sounded almost amused.

“Good.”, you sighed relived.

“Don’t worry.”, the older woman added quickly.

“Bye Luce.”

“See you, y/n.”, Lucy watched you go with a sad smile.

“Lucy? You two are so weird.”, Millie tapped on the dark-haired defender’s shoulder.

Irritated she turned around to face her team’s captain. “What do you mean?”

“Why don’t you finally talk about it?”, the blonde asked frustrated.

“I try to, but she always runs away.”, the older player explained annoyed.

“Don’t worry, we’ll figure it out for you.”, Millie promised.

And the Chelsea captain stayed true to her words.

It was the next day when you found yourself locked in a room with your ex-girlfriend.

“Sam, Erin, that’s not funny, let us out!”, you commanded, hammering your hands against the door. You felt like a mouse stuck in a trap.

“Do you hear anything, Erin?”, you heard the Australian ask the Scottish midfielder. The reply wasn’t audible to your ears because Lucy had started to speak.

“They’ll open the door again once we talked about us.”

“That’s so childish of them. To talk about us? That’s history.”, you grumbled.

“Of course. It’s obviously not history for you if you keep pouting about it.”, the defender observed

“I’m not pouting, I’m so over you at this point.”, you corrected her.

“Sure. Keep telling yourself that.”, your former lover sounded unconvinced.

“You really broke my heart back then.”, you confessed quietly, your voice full of the sadness and hurt from days in the past when the breakup was still fresh like a open wound you thought would never heal.

“I didn’t do anything.”, she remarked calmly.

“Yes, you did you left.”, you disagreed fiercely.

“I left because I had to. After you assured me, long distance would work.”, Lucy defended herself.

A grieving smirk appeared on your face, you remembered your old self, what a fool she has been. “I thought it would, but it didn’t that happens.”

“Yes, it happens. So, stop blaming me for leaving it was a mutual decision.”

“It wasn’t your fault- Cam we leave now?”, you directed the question towards the people who kept you in that room.

“Nope, you know what we want to hear.”, Sam declared grinning.

“Lucy, what does she want from us?”, you wanted to know.

“I’ve no idea., she admitted before continuing, we won’t get back together, Sam. That won’t work.”

“Exactly.”, you added quickly.

“That’s not what we want. Keep talking and you’ll see.”, the forward insisted.

“What if we begin again? Like we just met for the first time.”, Lucy suggested.

“Wait, what?”, you frowned.

“We can start over.”, she offered in a hopeful tone.

“You mean as in strangers who get to know each other?”

“Maybe.” , she nodded knowing fully well you’d never be a stranger to her.

“And we don’t know where this leads to?”, you felt your heart flutter against your chest, the door was open again and you both stepped into the unknowing. The past was the past the future was uncertain, all you could influence was the present.

All's well that ends well. Yet this was only the beginning and the closing of one chapter of your relationship.

#lucy bronze #lucy bronze x reader #lucy bronze imagine #woso x reader #woso #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso one shot #woso oneshot #woso community #engwnt #lionesses x reader #lionesses #barclays wsl

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fallstaticexit · 3 days

Text

Prev / Next / Beginning / Pillowfort

Transcript under the cut

Geoffrey: So, our anniversary is coming up. I was thinking maybe we could plan a getaway. Somewhere really nice. What do you think? Nancy?

[Nancy snores lightly]

Nancy Narrates: [It was all starting to wear on me-]

Geoffrey: [softly] Goodnight Nance. I love you.

Nancy: [murmurs] m ‘love you...Vanessa.

Nancy Narrates: [Having to balance the many sides of me]

Nancy Narrates: [There was the Nancy that was a Theta]

Nancy Narrates: [The Nancy that was free]

Nancy Narrates: [The Nancy that was an honest, loving girlfriend]

Geoffrey: Date night tonight?

Nancy: I- have a thing with the Thetas. Maybe another night?

Geoffrey: You know, I’m happy you’re putting yourself out there. I’m proud of you.

Extra Loud Stereo Plays: Do Me! - Bell Biv Devoe

Take a good look at me Tell me do you like what you see

Do you think you can Do you think you can do me

Kiss me pretty baby And touch me all over

Girl what makes you think you can do me Do you think you can do me girl?

Do me baby (x2)

Geoffrey: Hey, you ever wondered what happened to Vanessa?

Bob: Vanessa? Vanessa Villareal?

Geoffrey: Yeah. When we came back from break, she just- vanished.

Bob: Yeah, that was crazy, huh? I talked to Cassie about it once. She said it reminded her of that whole Angela thing that happened junior year.

Geoffrey: What Angela thing?

Bob: You don’t know about the Angela thing!?

Geoffrey: [chuckles] No one told me about it! It was like a urban legend.

Bob: Vanessa and her mean girl squad ganged up on her and started bullying her because they thought she was a lesbian or something.

Geoffrey: No way. Was she?

Bob: I dunno. I mean, she was always hanging on to Vanessa. I guess that’s where the rumors started. Anyway, Cassie thinks maybe people were starting to talk about her and Nancy. They were close too.

Geoffrey: What? Why didn’t you guys tell me?

Bob: Dude, it’s just gossip. We can’t know for sure that’s what happened. Vanessa was always getting sent to the office, she probably got expelled.

Geoffrey: Yeah...

Bob: Are you ok, man?

Geoffrey: I think maybe that’s why Nancy’s been so down all this time. I think she misses Vanessa.

Bob: Probably, friendships between women are really intense.

Darling: [groans] I can’t believe I have class in 5 hours. I’m screwed.

Nancy: [laughs] Who told us to throw a rager on a Thursday?

Darling: Hey, we’re still in better shape than those two over there.

Nancy: The Thetas? More like tea parties.

Darling: [laughs] Hell nah.

Nancy: Should we check if they have a pulse?

Darling: [chuckles] Man, they can’t handle their liquor for shit.

Nancy: Did you meet them through the club?

Darling: Morgan chased me down to do a tarot reading one day.

Nancy: Ah. She got you too, did she?

Darling: I kinda like that stuff, you know, like zodiac signs and all that. Tells you alot about a person. Speaking of, what’s your sign?

Nancy: I have no idea. Maybe I’m a Pisces?

Darling: When’s your birthday?

Nancy: January 17th.

Darling: Huh, no shit? You’re a Capricorn. I’m a Virgo.

Nancy: What does that mean?

Darling: For one, means we’re compatible.

Nancy: Oh? How can you tell?

Darling: We’re both earth signs, means we grounded. We want the real thing.

Nancy: I don’t know what I want.

Darling: I think you do though. I think you don’t want to say it.

Nancy: What don’t I want to say?

Darling: You tell me.

Nancy: Well. I guess... I guess I have alot of questions.

Darling: Like what? Keep it real, it’s just me.

Nancy: Well.. How do you know that you’re- you know.

Darling: What, into girls? I’ve always known.

Nancy: But how do you know for sure?

Darling: I was probably born this way. I never looked at guys the way I look at women. I love everything about them. I love the way they smell, the way they feel. I’m probably crazy about them. It’s wired in my brain.

Nancy: Have you ever kissed a girl?

Darling: [chuckles]

Nancy: Don’t laugh...

Darling: You’re right, you’re right, my bad. Yeah, Nancy. I’ve done alot more than kissing though.

Nancy: Oh. You mean...like sex?

Darling: Yeah. Like sex.

Darling: Oh. I guess that means you’re done asking questions.

Nancy: ....What is it like?

Darling: Kissing?

Nancy: I know about kissing. I mean [clears throat] the sex. With a girl. What does it feel like?

Darling: You really wanna know?

Nancy: Well. I asked, didn’t I?

Darling: Alright. Give me your hand.

Darling: You wanna know?

Nancy: [swallows] Mhm..

#the art of being seen #the landgraabs #tw sim spice #the dedication I put in to creating a finger sucking pose is actually insane #no regrets #Nancy: I sure hope this doesn’t awaken anything in me #spoiler alert- it absolute does #what if I told you Nancy is the hero and villain of her own story then what #sims 4 stories #sims 4 simblr #ts4 simblr

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twice-my-age-simp · 2 days

Text

You can't be with her!

KateBishopxFem!reader, WandaNatxDaughter!reader

Warnings: little bit of angst, fluff, smut, making out, strap-on, top!Kate

Summary: Your moms found out about your relationship with Kate and are not happy with it. They want to keep you safe, unintentionally hurting you while doing that.

Notes: Sorry for my long absence. Here's a new one shot for you. I think it's the longest work I've ever written so far. Enjoy reading this piece.

Word count: 5.2k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You knew you were in trouble. It was obvious. Especially after they broke into the house and you saw a very angry ex-assassin and a very pissed witch in the living room. But, let’s start from the beginning ‘cause what a story it is.

��

8 hours earlier

“No, there is no way.” your mom said firmly, standing in the kitchen with her hands on her hips. You stood up from your chair and walked closer to her.

“Why? You can’t just do that.” you fighted back. You couldn’t believe this is happening and centrally won’t let it become the truth. You love your moms and you know they always try to do what’s best for you, but this time they were in the wrong.

“I can and I just did. You can’t see Kate anymore.” Nat said with a stern look, tightening her jaw. You turned from her to your other mom. “Mama, won’t you say anything?” you asked, a pleading look on your face.

Wanda, who was standing and listening to the conversation this whole time, walked closer to her wife. “Y/N, sweety, we’re just looking out for you.” she answered gently. You felt absolutely helpless, hurt and angry.

“You can’t make this decision for me. It’s my life and my relationship.” you spoked, hoping that they will change their minds.

“You are our daughter and still a child. It is as we say.” Nat added, not backing up. It’s hard to fight an assassin, even if it is not a physical fight. “Listen, we don’t want to be the bad guys here or make your life miserable. It’s just..” Nat signed. “Kate is an Avenger. This job is very dangerous and being with her can put you in life threatening danger. It’s already risky considering that you are our daughter.“

“I’m not a child anymore, I’m 21 years old. Nothing bad will happen to me. Please, I love her. Y-you can’t do that.” your eyes started to fill up with tears, your voice’s slowly breaking.

“I’m sorry, but that’s final.” Hearing that, you rushed to your room, locking yourself in it. You threw yourself on your bed and started crying.

Everything was good before. Your moms didn’t know about your relationship. You successfully kept it from them for a little over a year, always saying that you were going out with some friends. But of course, they had to walk in on you and Kate making out in the training room when you were visiting the Avengers in the compound, because they had some stuff to take care of. Nat immediately took you to the car. The drive home was silent, but when you got inside, they started saying that you needed to end things with Kate for “your own good”.

You picked up your phone, opened contacts and dialed the phone number. It was three rings after that the person answered. “Hi, Y/N.” said the angelic voice on the other side. It was all it took you to utter a sob, breaking down more from just hearing her. “Y/N? What’s wrong? Does it have something to do with your moms finding out about us?” Kate asked with a concerned tone. You didn’t want to tell her about your fight because it would make it true and you couldn’t let that happen. However, Kate deserves to know. Maybe you can come up with a solution and everything will be great again. At least you hoped so.

“Kate-” you sobbed. “They want me to break up with you.” you cried out. Silence enveloped the room. You didn’t know if it was because she hung up or she was shocked. Pulling the phone from your ear, you looked at the screen; okay, she’s still there. “Kate? Please, say something.”

After a few seconds, you heard her say, you think she’s also crying. “I don’t know what to say.” she cleared her throat and added. “There’s nothing I can do? Maybe they can still change their mind?”

“I don’t think so.” You said. The truth is, if there was anything that would change this, you would already do it. Sad reality hit you. Your moms don’t want you to be with Kate. Then you wondered if it was even important to you. I mean, of course, you want them to approve of your relationship, but they don’t. They just don’t understand that she’s the love of your life. Your whole heart. Your everything. At that moment, you made up your mind. “You know what? I don’t care what they say; I want to be with you. I love you, Kate. ” you said, determined, wiping the tears from your cheeks with the back of your hand. Your moms are not gonna come in between your love life. You won’t let them.

“I love you too and I want to be with you for the rest of my life. Are you sure, though? I mean, they are your moms. I don’t want your relationship with them to be destroyed because of me.” Kate said, her voice slowly quieting. You can’t help but feel your heart grow bigger with love for her if it is still even possible. She cares about you so much, you couldn’t be more sure about your decision.

“Yes, I want to be with you forever, Katie.” you said truthfully. “I can’t imagine my life without you.”

“I can’t imagine my life without you too. What are we gonna do about your moms?” she asked.

“I don’t know, yet.” you said. You didn’t like to lie to your moms, but in this case, you feel like you have to. “Maybe we can meet up today? I can say that I need to go for a walk to clear my mind or something. You can park your car a few streets away.” you said hopefully. “Sure, be there in an hour.” With that, you ended the call.

Kate will be here in an hour, so you intend to spend this time on getting ready. You had to wear something not too fancy for a walk but not too ugly for a hangout with your girlfriend. ‘Girlfriend’, after all this time you’ve been together, you still can’t believe you get to call her that. It makes your heart flutter every time.

After some time of thinking about what to wear and getting mentally ready to lie to your moms, you were ready to leave. Walking down the stairs, you opt to look upset, but without it looking weird. You know it is hard to lie to a witch and an ex-assassin.

You slowly made your way to put on some shoes when someone called from behind. “And where are you going, young lady?” You turned to see Nat with her arms crossed. “I hope it isn’t the girl I clearly said is dangerous for you to hang out with.” She said sternly.

That got your blood boiling. “If you want to know, I’m going for a walk to clear my head, because my mother said I can’t be with the love of my life!” You shouted, tears started to well up again. Nat stood a little shocked at the outburst but quickly recovered. “Quit the tone; you know I do this for your safety. I just want to protect you.” She said the last part a little softer.

“Whatever.” You said and walked out of the house, shutting the door.

You turned left and started going down the street; hopefully Kate is already there. As you walk, you make yourself slightly more presentable, fixing the hair and wiping the tears that once again started to flow because of the encounter with your mom. Turning left, you see Kate’s car parked on the side of the road. Smiling, you increased your speed and got into the car.

“Hi-” Kate didn’t manage to greet you because you immediately pulled her by her shirt into a long, passionate kiss. Your fist, full of the fabric, pulled Kate closer. Her hands flew to grip the back of your neck. Both missed the physical contact. Your lips, made to fit like two pieces, were moving against each other, stealing breath. Your lungs started to feel like they were on fire, but that didn't stop you from giving yourself to Kate in that kiss.

After a few minutes, you pull away from the kiss but still keep close to Kate. Your hand full of her shirt slightly loosens, yet the grip is still there. “Sorry, I just really missed you.” You said, looking down flustered. Finally, your eyes moved up, looking deeply into hers. “Hi.” you added after a moment of silence.

Kate smiled at you. “Hi.” She replied, giggling breathlessly. “I missed you too. So much.”

It’s so stupid how her smile and the little glint in her eyes can make you all giggly and weak in knees. You know you loved her to the moon and back, you can’t give up on your relationship just because your moms tell you to, not when everything in you is screaming that Kate is the endgame, your endgame.

“Hey, hey, hey. What's wrong?” you felt Kate's hands on your face, thumbs wiping your cheeks. You didn't realize that you were crying. Every emotion's built up in you, and right when you saw her, you just had to let it all go. “It's just, I don't want to be away from you. I love you so much and I'm sick of this sneaking out, or my moms telling me that I can’t be with you.” you sniffled, looking into her eyes. “God, you are everything I want. I want to be with you forever. When I think about my future, I see you and me, and I don’t care what our lives will look like as long as we are together; that's everything I want.” You really poured your heart out there. It’s not typical for you to be this vulnerable in front of Kate—actually in front of anyone; you’ve always kept everything to yourself.

Now that you think of it, you think you might have scared Kate. She’s silent, just staring at you, hands still on your face. You think you blew it, that it was too much for her. After all, you’ve been dating for only a little over a year. Thoughts started to flood your mind, creating the worst scenarios and just when you were about to apologize-

“Marry me.” Kate said, her face not showing any emotions. You were speechless; did you hear it right? Kate asked you to marry her? Well, it wasn’t really a question, more like as if she just admitted to herself that she wants to marry you. Nonetheless, there is still a part of you that believes that you heard it wrong. “What?” You breathed out, your eyes searching for reassurance in hers.

“Marry me.” She repeated more confidently this time as if coming back to life. “I’m serious. I know that we haven’t been dating for long, but I also want to be with you forever. I love you and I don’t want to be with anyone else; you are the only one for me. I want everything with you, I want you. This won’t be easy, but that’s great. Easy is boring.” you both giggled at that. “This is reckless and not normal at all, but let’s just be for real. We are reckless and nothing in our lives is normal, I mean, your moms are a witch and an ex-assassin and I am an Avenger. Nothing ever was normal and nothing will be, and frankly, I love it this way.” Kate ended her heartwarming speech with a big smile on her face, tears now also in her eyes. “So, Y/N Romanoff, will you marry me?”

“Yes!” You said matching her smile. “Of course I will marry you.” Pulling the shirt you still had a grip on, you pull Kate into a slow kiss, filled with salty tears. You think you’ve never been so sure about anything in your life. Honestly, that’s all you ever wanted, to marry the love of your life and that is marrying Kate Bishop.

“Good, cause I thought for a second that I went too far.” Kate started to ramble after pulling away. You thought that the best way to stop her from that was to kiss her again. It didn’t last long though, because after a few seconds she pulled back again. She turned so she’s sitting straight, her back to the seat, and started to wave her hands around. “Oh my, I need to buy a ring. God! I’m so unprepared!” You tried to stop her by calling her name, but that didn’t really work.

“Katherine Elizabeth Bishop!” Using her full name did work. She stopped immediately and looked at you. You giggled at her. “You need to stop worrying about that. I want to marry you, not the ring. I don’t need any rings, just you, okay?” Kate looked at you as if looking for clarification, then she cutely tilted her head and pouted and that just made you want to kiss her.

“I know, but I really want to get you a ring. You deserve that, you deserve a big proposal with-with rose petals, a nice dinner and a big diamond ring, not this. A girl who proposes in her car without even a paper ring.” She started having doubts about herself; you could see that. “I love that girl. I don’t need some rich and stuck-up proposal. I couldn’t have imagined it better than this.” You made sure she was looking at you as you said that to her. That was the truth, so you wanted her to believe you.

“Okay.. okay.” Kate clears her throat, then adds. “So, shall we go and get married now?” you both smiled at each other. Reaching for seat belts in order to fasten them, you answered. “Yes, we shall.”

It turned out it wasn’t that easy. You had to have witnesses. After some thinking, you reached out to Aunt Yelena, while Kate called Clint. Although it took some convincing to get the old man to drive here because, as he said, he doesn’t want to ‘deal with angry mothers anymore’, whatever that means, he might have been referring to Laura, but you’re not sure; you also think that he really just didn’t want to move his three letters.

Well, eventually, he agreed. Yelena didn’t need this much convincing; well, she didn’t need to be convinced at all. She said she’d be happy to piss off her sister; she mentioned something about getting back at her for borrowing, without her knowing, one of her vests and then destroying it on a mission, but you could have misheard.

Kate got anxious again, but this time about clothing. Both of you wore casual clothes, not right for a marriage. So that’s how you got dragged by Kate for a little shopping. It took you both a while, but in Kate's eyes it was worth it, because now you and her looked good.

It wasn’t long before you and Kate signed up the marriage license with Clint and Yelena next to you, and you were good to go. You bit your goodbyes with them, then made your way to Kate’s car. While you were both sitting, the car still not turned on, you realized what just happened. ”We just got married.” Kate stated firmly, her face not showing any emotions while looking straight ahead. You turned your head to look at her. ”We just got married.” She repeated, now with a big smile on her face. Also turning her head to you, she started to giggle. Hearing her laughter, you started to giggle yourself, also not believing that this is real.

Kate leaned in and brought her hand to the back of your neck to pull your foreheads together. ”You are my wife.” She said breathlessly. ”I am your wife.” You said in the same tone. Your wife pulled you into a long, passionate kiss. ”Damn, your moms are really gonna kill me now” Kate said after pulling away. This caused you both to burst out laughing. “Well, if this is my last hour, how about we make the best of it and go back to mine, my wife?“ She asked with a smirk on her face, clearly insinuating on doing something really not PG. Your cheeks turned slightly red, but you matched her smirk. “Lead the way, my wife.”

You’re sure that your superhero broke a few laws driving you to her apartment. Both of you are very eager and excited for what awaits you there. So as soon as the door was closed, Kate pushed you into it, trapping you between the wooden surface and her. Hands flying to your hips, squeezing and pushing more against the hardwood. Lips mingling with yours fastily, tongue pushing into your mouth, exploring the inside. Next thing you know, she was tagging at your pants, trying to take them off. Once you’re free from them, Kate’s hands traveled from your hips, over your ass, stopping on it for a second to squeeze, and then went downwards to the back of your thighs. With one swift movement, you were pulled from the door for a second, only to be pushed against it again, but this time with your legs around Kate’s waist.

Her kisses moved from your lips to nip at your neck, for sure, leaving lots of hickeys. You leaned your head back, revealing more skin on your neck. The particular bite on your pulse point made you moan. Your hands flew to her hair in order to pull her closer. With a mind full of thoughts about Kate, you breathlessly conhered some words. “B-bedroom… now.” you gasped when suddenly Kate pulled you both away from the door and started to blindly walk towards the bedroom. While you were stumbling across the living room, you threw your bag on the table, or at least you hoped it landed on the table, not caring about stuff inside. Though you’re pretty sure that your bag opened from the impact.

After some struggling, your back hit the bed with Kate on top of you. Lips once again connected, Kate started grinding her hips on yours. Suddenly, you felt it—the hardness underneath her pants. “Is-is that-?” You stuttered, then moaned because Kate pressed herself harder on you, so you feel it against your core.

“Mhm, a new one.” Kate smirked at you and again pushed her hips into yours, making you gasp. She leaned down to your neck and started to mark you everywhere she could. When she got to your pulse point, you moaned and gripped the back of her head, burying your fingers into her hair, pulling her closer. You feel hands tagging at your shirt. With your arms up, Kate swiftly takes off your shirt, leaving you in only your panties and bra. However, it doesn’t take long for her to also remove these undergarments. “So pretty.. so delicious, just for me to taste.” Kate’s hands started to wander.

Wanting to see more of Kate, you unbuttoned her shirt, slid it down her arms and then the shirt joined the rest of the clothes on the ground in the bedroom. Your hands immediately flew to her arms to feel her strong muscles. Then, to her abdomen, where she clearly has abs. “One of many perks of being an Avenger; lots of training that makes you have these muscles.” You stare in awe, biting your lip.

Kate leaned down again and nipped at your skin, making her path from your neck to your chest. She took your left nipple in her mouth, sucking on it hard, while her other hand squeezed the right breast. After some time, she switched the breasts and started sucking on the right one. ”Please, Kate… I want you.. now.” you pleaded.

Not wanting to tease you, just this night, Kate pulled away and took off the rest of her clothes, revealing the strap-on. “Purple?” You chuckle a little.

“What? I look good in purple.” Kate grinned and once again got on top of you. The strap was rubbing against your clit, making you shut your eyes and groan softly. “You want my cock, sweetheart?” Kate asked, rubbing her strap even harder.

“Yes! Please, Kate, I want your cock. Please fuck me.” You desperately rumble, your mind full of thoughts of how she can ruin you. This strap is definitely bigger than what you were used to, but you are willing to try this, considering how wet you are for her.

Kate leaned to your ear to whisper. “As you wish, babygirl.” Right after that, she harshly pushed at least a half of the strap in your pussy. Your moans and grunts get louder as she continues to slide in. “Fuck, baby. Always so tight for me.” You shut your eyes tightly as you feel more and more fuller with every second.

Finally, your hips were flush against each other. Your breath is more ragged as you try to get used to the fullness. “Kate… s-so full, fuck, so big” you moaned. After a few more seconds, Kate started to pull out and thrust her hips forward, causing you to let out a loud scream.

Your moans only encouraged Kate to keep going. The thrusts were much harder now; it made your head spin. You wrapped your arms around her back, burying your nails into it. Kate hissed into your ear from the harsh scratches, but it fuelled her to give you more. The room was filled with the sounds of your moans and the slapping of your hips with every thrust. “Kate- shit… I’m going to-” you are cut off by a hoarse groan that bursts out of your throat when Kate hits one particular place.

“It’s okay. Let go for me, baby.” Kate said breathlessly. That was all you needed, and soon your eyes rolled back. You arched your back into her, threw your head back and let out a silent scream. Kate was still thrusting into you as you were falling over the edge.

After you calmed down, she slowly pulled out of you. You groaned at the emptiness as you were trying to catch your breath. Kate was peppering your body with soft kisses. When she got up to your face, you smiled at each other. “That- that was incredible.” you said panting. “Glad you liked it, my love.” she pecked your lips. With a swift move, you turned you both over, so Kate was now on her back with you on top of her. “Let me return the favor.” you grinned and leaned down to kiss her.

*****

You were lying on the bed with your head on Kate’s chest. Your arm around her abdomen, leg between hers. Kate has her arm wrapped around your bare body. The covers were loosely thrown on both of you as you were lying together in your own, quiet bubble.

“You know… I was thinking..” Kate started. You turned your head to look at her and wait for her to continue. “Since we are married now” this made you smile. You still can’t believe that this is real and that Kate is your wife now. “Maybe, if you want… you could move in with me.” your eyes widen at her words. A smile spread across your face. You lifted slightly from the bed to move closer to her and give her a passionate kiss in which you couldn’t stop smiling. The same goes for Kate.

When you pulled out, you looked her in the eyes. “Of course I want to move in with you!” you both had such big smiles on your faces that your cheeks started to ache. “Great! I was scared for a second that you wouldn’t want that. What will you tell your moms, though? Maybe you should-” as Kate continued to rumble, your heart stopped. Shit. Your moms, they don’t know anything, AND you said you were going for a walk, which is now about six hours long. Shit, shit. Your phone has been on silent since you went to get married. They probably called you and texted you a million times.

“Shit, my moms! They have to wonder where I am!” you said cutting her off and quickly got out of bed, panicking. You throw on yourself one of Kate’s hoodies, put on your panties and some Kate’s shorts. At the corner of your eye, you see that Kate also got up and started to get dressed. You left the bedroom and headed towards the living room, where you left your phone in the bag. Just as you walked into the living room space, your heart stopped at the sight.

So, now you know the story behind why an angry witch and a pissed-off ex-assassin broke into the apartment and were standing in the living room. They had their hands on their hips, with scowls on the faces. “Mom, mama-” You were immediately caught off. “Don’t mamas us!” Wanda scoffed. She rarely got angry, she preferred to do things the calm way. However, when she did get angry, oh boy, hide if you can.

They had every right to be angry and you knew it. So you chose to stay silent this time. “Do you want to explain where you’ve been?” Nat asked with her jaw locked tight. “And why, when I called Clint to ask if he knew something about your whereabouts, he said that he doesn’t want to get involved anymore?” this time Wanda spoke. “Or why, when I called Yelena to ask if she knew something, she just laughed and hung up?” Natasha added. It was as if they talked it through, because they were literally changing after one sentence. It was creepy. “You lied to us, went radio silent and met up with the one person we specifically told you not to see!”

The person, as if on cue, came into the living room and stopped dead in tracks. “Mrs. Romanoff and..” Kate cleared her throat “Mrs. Romanoff.” She stood right next to you, her eyes locked on anything but your moms. The thick tension could be cut with a knife. You didn’t know what they would do now, with Kate next to you.

“And here’s the person in the flesh.” stated firmly Natasha, her eyes shooting daggers at Kate. “Mom, please.” you pleaded. You didn’t want this place to turn into a war zone. “Please what? Y/N, we've forbidden you from seeing her and the next thing you did after that was see her! You don-”

“What is that?” Wanda stopped Natasha from further shouting at you as she noticed something. You turned your head where she was looking, and your face turned pale. Wands was looking at the coffee table where you had thrown your bag earlier. The bag opened from the impact and some things fell out of it on the table. One of the things was your and Kate's marriage license. Your heart stuck in your throat as Wanda walked closer to it. She reached for the paper, picked it up and for a moment there was silence. But only for a short moment.

“You got married?!” Wanda shouted, turning to face you and Kate. Now she was really, really angry. Like the kind of angry when she has her eyes narrowed, eyebrows furrowed so that they are almost touching, and the worst, the little tilt in her head. Now you were fucked. “You what?!” this time Natasha shouted.

“I-... we just..” you wanted to say something, but didn't know what. What do you say in a situation like that, though? It was tough, but fortunately Kate noticed that you were struggling and decided to speak for you. She reached her hand to yours and interlaced your fingers together. Kate cleared her throat, mentally preparing herself for anything that could happen after she spoke. “We did. We got married today.” you didn't think that was possible, but silence was never this loud.

“Why would you do that? And without any of us knowing” Wanda spoke angrily as she handed the married license to Nat.

Natasha read the license, still not believing what she just heard. Her eyes stopped at one point. “Bishop? You changed your last name to Bishop?” Natasha asked in disbelief, interrupting Wanda. “Yeah…” you said, unsure, waiting for the explosion from your parents.

However, there is something else on their faces. Hurt? Disappointment? Sadness? You couldn't tell, but you knew you didn't like it. “Mom, mama, please don't look at me like that.” you said sadly, there is a stone in your heart. “I've never wanted to get married without you there, but I also didn’t want to marry anyone but Kate. And you specifically told me that I can't be with her… I just.. I couldn't let that happen. I just want you to be happy for me.” you reasoned, tears once again pricking in your eyes. You felt Kate's hand smoothing your back, which calmed you a little.

“Mrs. Romanoffs, I really love your daughter. You care about her safety as much as I do. I promise to keep her safe and sound.” Kate calmly said, meaning every word.

Wanda and Nat looked at each other, having a silent conversation. Soon, they turned back to face you and Kate. “Oh God..” Nat groaned, letting out a breath. “Y/N, darling, we didn't want you to feel like that; we just…” she didn't really know how to say it, so Wanda took the wheel. “We just love you so much, we want to keep you safe. However, I admit that we did go a little too far. We shouldn't get between you and Kate.” she says. Your eyes lit up a little, a small smile started to spread on your face. “Does that mean..?” you asked, still not sure you understood what they just said. “Yes, you can see Kate.”

Now you have the biggest smile on your face. You jumped up and down and then pulled your mothers in a hug, squeezing in happiness. Your moms laughed a little and hugged you back. “We love you, darling, and we are happy for you.”

“Thank you. I love you both, very much.” you grinned and pulled away from the hug. You go back to stand next to Kate, whose smile is as big as yours, and interlace your fingers.

“However,” Natasha turned to Kate with a stoic expression. “If you hurt her, I will hunt you down.” Kate started to feel a little nervous again, but tried not to show it. “Of course, I-I would never hurt her; I love her.” she rumbled quickly.

Soon, Wanda and Nat left the apartment, saying that today they will leave you and Kate alone, but tomorrow they want you both at home for dinner.

You went back to bed, lying next to each other. Both of you fell asleep in a loving embrace.

#wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff #wandanat #kate bishop #kate bishop x reader #yelena belova #clint barton #imagine #one shot #hailee steinfeld #elizabeth olsen #scarlett johansson

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maespri · 3 days

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oh my i never really saw myself making a post like this, but i really wanna talk about morgana! more specifically… why i don’t really understand the hate he receives.

for starters, i know a lot of people dislike mona because he gets on ryuji’s case often. his squabbling with ryuji can get hurtful at times too, i know, but i feel like so many people conveniently leave out the fact that… ryuji returns fire? it’s not as though mona is constantly attacking poor ryuji who can’t defend himself; it’s a two-sided fight throughout most of the game. both of them are constantly fueling the fire. not to mention, it’s a fight that eventually ends. both individuals have great character development (i could talk about it for /ages/, but i digress) that ends with their fighting essentially ceasing entirely. they’re both dumb teenage boys, they both said dumb stuff to each other, and they both hurt each other, and all of that is recognized and left in the past.

the hatred toward mona in general is something i struggle to understand entirely. you hate this cat because he tells you to go to bed? the game would have told you to do that one way or another, because it’s a game. there have to be constraints, or you’d get terribly overpowered incredibly fast. i wholeheartedly agree that mona’s lacking in comparison to the other characters in many ways- but i’ve never hated him, and was surprised to see a lot of people did.

maybe i’m just weirdly empathetic toward fictional characters, but i really liked his storyline. mona’s been with the protagonist since day one, helping him out, staying with him, encouraging and supporting him in everything he does, navigating them through mementos and palaces and battles… and he’s never really appreciated for any of it. obviously, the other phantom thieves do the same and don’t require any extra praise, but morgana already has a complex stemming from the fact that he’s not human. inherently, he believes he’s not nearly as good as any of the others, and subsequently, that he isn’t good enough in general- and he’s so ashamed of that that he can’t even voice the concern to the protagonist pre-okumura’s palace. it made sense to me when he snapped and ran away; if you were constantly the black sheep of a group, unable to engage with anyone unless the guy you live with is always there as well, wouldn’t you yearn for autonomy too? (don’t even get me started on the haru parallels there; there’s a reason morgana snapped during the okumura arc.) if you felt expendable and there wasn’t ever an effort made to prove otherwise, purposeful or not, wouldn’t you also want to leave? to spare both yourself, and the people you’re leaving? i really liked his arc because it led to two realizations- that he was pivotal to the group, and it was fine if he ended up not being a human. (and honestly, he was pivotal to my group… who else would i use to heal everyone outside of battle…!)

anyway, his objectification of women was weird. didn’t like that. but this is a JRPG, and he’s not the only one who does strange things like that at times (why was ryuji looking at ann’s chest in the mona bus outside futaba’s palace man…). honestly, his flirting was also weird at times, but as long as it never got strangely sexual, i didn’t really mind? it’s not like it ever genuinely bothers ann either as far as i remember. it’s more just a stupid thing he does.

anyway… i dunno. i like the kitty. he’s silly, he kept me company, and he made my playthrough fun. life is so much more beautiful when you carry love in your heart rather than resentment

#i truly do believe people are entitled to their own opinions! but .#sometimes i do wonder if people just completely throw empathy and sympathy out the window when it comes to video games #or more specifically #completely reframe their empathy so that it only applies to the convenient parties #like i love akechi and he’s one of my favorite characters but the only reason we are able to do that is because #we understand his circumstances and why he did what he did and it’s easy to not personalize any of it when #we don’t see the people he killed and when the phantom thieves really do want to be his friend #idk… i know i’m kind of comparing water and orange juice here lol. but just a thought #my point is #morgana is still at the bottom of my phantom thieves ranking #but i love him a bunch #anywayyy #persona 5 #persona 5 royal #p5r #vees persona meta #morgana #morgana p5 #morgana persona 5 #ryuji sakamoto

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inheritedbelly · 1 day

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Heavy Lifting

I start the day excited about the new job. It's not what I dreamed of, of course, but it's a start, a way to gain experience and, maybe, distract myself from the mess my life has become. I work in the warehouse of a factory. I'm an apprentice to Mr. Fred, a big, sweaty 60-year-old man. When I arrived, he was leaning against a pile of boxes, breathing slowly, the weight of his enormous belly rising and falling. He has a deep, thick voice that seems to resonate in his chest, but what stands out the most is his size. I'm not talking about his height, but his width. The guy is huge, almost as if life had shaped him around a giant belly. When he laughs, it feels like his whole body shakes. I can't imagine being in his skin, it must be uncomfortable and gross, but aside from that, he's a nice guy.

The work is exhausting. We carry and move boxes, organize shelves. Things are always missing, and we're the ones responsible for keeping everything in order. I just wish my life was like that—organized. At the end of the day, after lifting heavy things all day, Fred suggests we sit down and talk for a bit. Sitting across from him, I start to open up. I don’t know why, but the words come out before I can hold them back. I talk about my issues with my dad, how I don’t have a mom, and how the pressure to choose a college is suffocating me. I don’t know what I want to do with my life, I just wish I could skip this phase, wake up one day and have everything figured out. Fred listens attentively, his gaze heavy, almost as if he’s absorbing everything I’m saying. He nods slowly, and after a pause, he laughs, slapping his large belly. "Funny," he says. "I wish for the opposite. I wish I could be young again. Skinny. Do everything over, make different choices." His laughter fades, and he looks at the floor for a moment. Then, he looks at me with a strange gleam in his eyes. "You know what, kid? I think I know how to solve our problem." He snaps his fingers, and before I can respond, my vision goes black.

When I wake up, the first thing I feel is a strange coldness on my head. I reach up to the top of my head and… nothing. I'm bald. My heart races, and I look down, terrified. I see a huge belly, a round sphere dominating my field of vision, as if it’s an extension of me, but… it can’t be. The striped shirt covering this body isn’t mine. I try to get up from the armchair I’m sitting in, but everything feels different. Heavy. I grab the belly, this mass of flabby flesh that seems to be part of me now, and I look at my hands. They’re large, wrinkled, covered in saggy skin. It’s like I’m wearing gloves of flesh. I feel panic rising, and I let out a scream, but the sound that comes out of my throat isn’t mine. It’s hoarse, old. I bring my hand to my neck and feel a double chin. Horror overwhelms me, and I fall forward, my body too heavy to keep balance.

I lift my head, struggling, and I see my old body standing there, smiling at me with a malicious look. Everything clicks in an instant. I’ve switched bodies with Fred.

"What the hell did you do?" I shout, my voice now rougher than ever. Fred, in my body, lets out a short, mocking laugh. "Relax, kid. It was just a spell. A solution to our little problem."

I panic. "Undo it! I want my life back! My youth!" But he just shakes his head, still laughing. "You can’t. The spell can only be done once. Now it’s permanent."

My heart, or what was left of it in that old body, starts pounding out of control. I stumble backward, trying to process this new reality. I feel the belly wobbling with every step I take, like an anchor dragging me down. This can’t be true. This can’t be happening.

I run, or at least I try to, to the office bathroom. I lock the door behind me and look in the mirror. The reflection shows me an old, sweaty man with a desperate expression on his face. The face isn’t mine. The skin is full of wrinkles, the cheeks sagging. I run my hand over my face, unable to believe what I see. I can’t stop holding my belly. It’s always there, like a constant reminder that I’m now someone else. Fred knocks on the door, and I hear his voice—my voice from before. “Hey, it’s not going to be that bad, let’s be honest. Now you have what you wanted, and I have what I wanted.” I scream in response, but the truth is that I’m trapped. There’s no going back. Fred then enters and gives a light squeeze to my enormous stomach. I yell at him to leave, and then he steps back. He closes the bathroom door, and I, still in shock and confused about what happened, am left unsure of what to do. I lift my shirt and see: a big belly, covered in hair. I also notice that my chest, which was normal before, is now larger and sagging. With every step I take, I feel my body moving in a way I’ve never felt before. It’s uncomfortable and strange. I turn around and notice that my backside has also changed; it’s now much bigger. I look in the mirror, trying to understand what has happened. The person in the reflection doesn’t seem like me, but the way the body moves makes it clear that, unfortunately, it is mine now.

I leave the bathroom and find Fred, who is now in my body. He smiles and makes an ironic comment, asking if I’m ready. I quickly pull down my shirt and, unsure of what to do, ask, “So now what are we going to do?”

When I leave the bathroom, Fred tells me I can go to his place, which is now my home. I have no choice. Walking through the streets is hell. Every step is a huge effort. I feel sweat dripping down my body, especially between the folds of my belly and on my back. And it’s just a short walk. Upon arriving at the apartment, Fred shows me everything—where the things are, the bathroom, the pantry. During this little tour, I’m extremely out of breath from the walk. My belly bumps into everything around the house. He tells me about his routine. Now, it’s my routine. Because of the heat, I take off my clothes, and my now free belly is enormous. As I squeeze through the house, my stomach occasionally bumps into Fred, who is in my way. “Sorry,” I say, even though I’m not the one to blame for this situation; he is! He’s the one who stuck me in this huge body, but honestly, I’m too out of breath for another argument. As soon as he leaves me alone in my new room, he says, “See you tomorrow, boss,” winking before closing the door. I get ready to take a shower, which is at least strange since I’ve never had to bathe a fat old man before, let alone be the old man myself. I feel the loose skin and the weight of the fat on me. Lying down on the bed is even worse; as soon as I collapse onto the bed, my huge new belly settles against my body in an uncomfortable way, and I have to turn over, quickly causing it to fall to my side. I let out a heavy sigh. “What was I wishing for?”

Lying on the bed, with not many options for comfort, I close my eyes, trying to believe that everything was just a nightmare and that tomorrow everything will be back to normal. But it’s hard to believe that it was just a dream, considering how real everything felt. Even lying there, I had a lot of physical contact with every part of my body, since I was now bulkier. I couldn’t just run my hand over my body without my hairy arm brushing against my hairy stomach. So, I would turn to the side, still thinking my slim body would react. But instead, I felt the weight of my new body. My brain was still that of a slim man.

I would run my hand over my forehead and remember the baldness. I would touch my face and feel the old beard. I would glide my hands over my body and notice my new bulk. It was this repetitive cycle until I finally managed to fall asleep. The next morning, when I wake up, I feel an erection, but not like it always used to be, my dick was fighting against my stomach. in a fright I quickly wake up and my eyes meet see my big stomach and the white hairs on my chest. I quickly get a shock, and suddenly everything hits me: nothing was a dream, everything was real, and this is my new lif

#bear transformation #boddy swap #old man transformation #tf #transformation #beartf #gay gainer #chubby boy #older daddy

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brf-rumortrackinganon · 2 days

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she wanted him to walk her down the aisle at the wedding, and she wanted Diana’s jewelry, for starters. This is the first time I've heard about wanting William to walk her down the aisle. Do you have a source? As for Diana's jewelry, why does she need to go through William? Shouldn't both Harry and William be equally entitled to Diana's jewelry? Although I am truly glad she doesn't have access to those jewels. Otherwise, there will be no end to her PR about it.

Do you have a source? The sources are blogs that are no longer available. (No, I’m not posting my dead links.)

This is not unusual. Sussex Squad successfully shut down many blogs over the course of Meghan’s time in the BRF, just as Sunshine Sachs scrubbed many articles of Meghan’s behavior and pre-wedding PR during Megxit.

As for Diana’s jewelry, why does she need to go through William? Because it’s believed that William got most of Diana’s iconic pieces, aka the jewelry she received in her official duties as the Princess of Wales, which many believe she left to William, the next Prince of Wales, to give to his wife, the future Princess of Wales.

Shouldn't both Harry and William be equally entitled to Diana's jewelry? Not necessarily. It depends on the instructions in Diana’s will, her divorce decree, and the BRF’s gift protocols. The assumption is that William and Harry have equal ownership of the jewelry based on what is known about Diana’s will - that she left ~75% of her estate to her sons. But that is all we know about the division of her estate and assets.

We don’t know if the divorce decree said anything about the jewelry she received as Princess of Wales. We don’t know what the gift protocols are in case of divorce or if a divorced married-in (eg Mark, Autumn, Diana, Sarah) is still considered a member of the royal family at death or if there are exceptions. We do know Diana was given special consideration to be a “partial” member of the royal family owing to her status as mother of the future king but how far did that go in terms of gift protocols or the division of personal assets acquired during the marriage?

The only other thing we know is that Meghan has only worn Diana’s personal jewelry and Kate (excepting the engagement ring) has only worn Diana’s Princess of Wales jewelry, suggesting William got all the iconic “big guns” and Harry got the rest. Meaning if Meghan wanted the iconic jewelry - like the emeralds we know she wanted because of all the PR she did about it - she most likely had to get it from William, and William wasn’t giving Meghan anything because he gave it all to Kate…who wore said emeralds for her first-ever Princess of Wales glam appearance to Earthshot 2022 in Boston.

And since Meghan really wanted those emeralds, history indicates that Harry would have given them to her if he could. But he didn’t, which means that William (and/or others) blocked it. And further, since Kate is Meghan’s mortal enemy and Meghan also convinced Harry that Kate’s the worst, Harry wouldn’t have approved William’s request to let Kate wear the emeralds if the brothers had joint ownership of the jewelry like anon suggested, which means that William had some kind of the sole authority.

#sussexes #waleses #diana

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themeraldee · 1 day

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The Lucky Winner - Part 3

[Masterlist] [Part 1] [Part 2] | [AO3]

18+ Only | 10k | Homelander x fem!Reader | Early Season 1. Voice kink (very mild mention). Awkward first dates. Awkward dialogue. Messy timeline. Established Relationship. Love confession. Emotional sex. Unhealthy Relationship.

Summary: Your life turns upside down, again, when Homelander reaches out to you asking you out on a date.

Author’s Note: This is set between the events of Part 1 & Part 2. It really is just a self-indulgent excuse to explore some relationship building and dynamics. Lot of awkward dialogue so be warned.

The next time Homelander contacts you it catches you just as off guard as the first time. Maybe even more so. You never expected him to turn up in the first place, let alone be interested in seconds.

Your phone is ringing on the bed and ever since the development from a week ago you’ve been on edge anytime your phone rang. You drop the towel you’re folding back on the pile of unsorted laundry and you nearly dive onto the bed, reaching for your phone. In the panic you drop it about three times, your shaky hands inadvertently playing hot potato.

“Hello?!” You yell into the phone, panicked. You don’t actually end up checking who’s calling, too worried about not accidentally hanging up. Plus it’s not like you could have saved Homelander’s number from a week ago anyway. It showed up as blocked on your phone’s call logs so you had no way to recognise his number.

“Hello there! Nice of you to pick up.” You squeaked in surprise and the voice on the phone turned from chipper to confused. “You okay? You sound a little—” And oh my god, it’s him! You’re talking to Homelander, again. Okay, okay, now it’s time to try and keep calm.

His voice is still gloriously rich and sweet in your ear and here you are about to most likely embarrass yourself again because for the life of you you’re incapable of coming across as calm and collected.

“I’m fine!” You immediately cut him off, your voice shrill and strained. He does not need to know the ins-and-outs of your internal struggle. But either way you’re already doing terribly. Who are you to cut Homelander off mid-sentence? Where are your manners?

“Why are you—um—I mean, is there anything you need?” You clumsily make your way through your response. Definitely not how you wanted to present yourself but it’s a lot better than barely being able to say a word like last time!

“I’m taking you out on a date. Get ready for 7 today.” You heard it. You’re pretty damn sure you heard that right, yet not a single part of you believes what he said.

“Sorry? W-w-what do you mean?” You sputter in confusion, your brain simply not capable of computing this news.

“I mean that I’m taking you out for dinner. What’s hard to understand?” He sounds irritated and your heart is pounding. From so many things at once. How are you meant to process that Homelander contacted you again, is asking you out for a date and now you’ve managed to irk him?!

Before you manage to apologize, following your typical spiel, Homelander continues. “Maybe you don’t know this but it’s kind of what men do when they want to get to know someone. You following yet?”

You ignore the condescending remark and instead you focus on what he’s actually saying.

There may as well be steam coming out of your ears, you genuinely feel like a blushing teenage girl talking to her crush. You’re hot bright red in the face and you feel the literal heat coming off your face.

“Yeah but you’re not—well of course you are—but also you’re not! Y’know, just an average Joe.” How do you go about explaining that you don’t feel worthy of that kind of attention?

“Doesn’t matter, you’re missing the point. Is that a no?” You’d think he would be pissed saying that, who in their right mind would refuse going on a date with Homelander, but he sounds amused more than anything.

Again with the reading you like a book. Because you barely manage to let out a barrage of “No! No no no no— that’s not!” before Homelander starts laughing.

“Alright, I’ll pick you up then.”

“No, wait! I can’t—I can’t do the public thing. You’re you! And as soon as I show up in public with you I won’t be left alone. I know that’s normal for you, but my life isn’t like that. I’m just… me.” You’re just a nobody. You don’t have a social media presence. You don’t bring attention to yourself. And you like to keep it that way. Going on a public date with America’s golden boy himself? You would be ripped apart by the online vultures.

You all but freak out on the phone and for a second you think he disconnected because you can’t hear a thing over the line but he suddenly speaks up.

“Oh well. We can’t have that, can we? You better have dinner ready at your place instead.” You don’t need to see him to imagine him with the biggest satisfied grin on his face. “I’ll be there at 7. Catch you later!”

Homelander hangs up on you and you hear the disconnected tone ringing in your ear as you stand there like a fish out of water. Mouth gaping open, letting out disbelieving stutters.

You pull the phone away from your ear, looking down at it as if it offended you. It’s then you notice the time. Shit shit shit. You have less than four hours to make your place and yourself presentable, go on a grocery run and start cooking for Homelander?! What just happened!

“Oh no no no no. This is not happening.” You rub your hands over your face as if to wipe the shock off your face. You’re so overwhelmed with the rollercoaster of emotions that you don’t know whether to have a panic attack, laugh nervously or downright cry.

Okay, first of all the pile of laundry is gonna have to wait. You don’t have the time to meticulously fold your t-shirts and panties. You gather up the clean and dry laundry into your hands, haphazardly shoving it into the closet before closing the door on what will be an avalanche of laundry for your future self to deal with.

With pure panic-induced energy that you haven’t felt in a long while you manage to just about make your place presentable within an hour. Finally managing to gather and clean up the mugs and glasses that have been cluttering up your surfaces, making your bed all neat and tidy—just in case—and shoving all unnecessary clutter into cupboards. It’s not like Homelander would use his x-ray vision to judge the inside of your cabinets, would he?

Speeding your way out of your apartment you make your way over to the closest shop. Standing in the fresh produce aisle you suddenly realize you don’t actually have a plan. What the fuck are you meant to cook for Homelander?! Even after all the content you’ve consumed you’re pretty sure there’s not a single mention of his favorites. At least ones he’s not been sponsored to promote. Sure, he’s on many products, ranging from frozen peas to whole milk but that doesn’t mean it’s something he genuinely endorses. After all you want to get to know the man behind the costume, a date is not meant to be just another PR interview for him!

You’re starting to look strange. People are passing you while you’re internally panicking over what to buy. What if he’s allergic to something? What if he goes into anaphylactic shock and fucking dies! Even if you had an EpiPen or he carried it on him you wouldn’t be able to stab it into him anyway. And suddenly you’ve killed the world’s most beloved superhero and you’re spending the rest of your life in jail with Vought most certainly making sure you pay your dues. Even if all of that was true you had no way of knowing. It’s not like Vought would ever leak that kind of information. Not very good for their brand to tweet that their best superhero is allergic to fucking nuts!

You shake your head a little, snapping yourself out of your dazed state. If Homelander’s brand is anything it’s that red-blooded American male perfect standard. Surely he wouldn’t complain about some steak dinner right? Men love steaks! You just make sure to avoid most common allergens. You pick up some potatoes and other vegetables to roast along with a good pricey cut of steak that was easily out of your budget.

You get home just as fast and with each passing second you’re more and more on edge. You don’t know whether it’s the anxiety coiling in your guts or the so called ‘butterflies’ but you’ve never been this nervous before. With the clock ticking and the food cooking you’re suddenly more and more paranoid over everything. From your insane Homelander merch collection to even just the furniture you’ve got! Not that that’s anything you can change in the next hour but your mind is running at a hundred miles an hour and you’re trying to account for everything.

Just before it gets to the agreed time you change into something nice but casual, straight after shoving the laundry avalanche back into its place. You even leave the balcony door open, doubting he’s gonna knock on your door like a normal person.

And while you’re there focusing on platting up your best attempt at steak and roasted vegetables, you hear the familiar sound of Homelander’s landing. You whip your head towards the wall clock with such urgency it’s shocking you don’t give yourself whiplash.

Shit. It was literally 7pm. You wanted to set the table all pretty and prep it perfectly but you got so preoccupied with the place looking as good as it can that you lost track of time. You’re sure he’s used to luxury and perfection. You want to do your best to replicate that!

“Homelander!” Comes out of you with a little gasp. You tilt your head to look at him. And what you see makes your heart skip a beat.

There he is, in his suited-out glory per usual, except this time he’s holding a bouquet of roses with a dashing smile on his face that quickly turns into a self-satisfied grin as he immediately notices your panic at his presence. Even after he thoroughly reduced you to a puddle of goo just last week you were still such a skittish uncertain thing around him.

“Wow, smells delicious in here.” He looks around taking it in while inhaling the mouth-watering smell of sizzling steak.

Homelander steps closer with calculated steps, checking you out without an ounce of shame. You don’t know if it’s just the pure intensity in his eyes that has you feeling on edge or if he really is undressing you with his gaze. “These,” he frees your hand, prying your palm open with his gloved hand, “are for you.” He places the bouquet of roses into your palm, squeezing it shut around the wrapped stems.

In a way you’re paralyzed. The reality of the situation finally hits you and you realize you’re really here about to have a dinner date with Homelander. Who just brought you expensive, gorgeous flowers, because that’s something that totally happens to people like you.

You’re standing there, staring at the deep rich red of the roses that actually ends up matching the cardigan you put on for this. Your little attempt at complimenting the suit you knew he'd show up in.

Your mind is going a million miles a second and your other hand squeezes a petal in between your fingertips. There’s droplets of water on the velvety surface. You didn’t realize it was raining at the time. You look past him through a window as if you could make out the weather through the darkness of the evening.

Looking at the roses now, they look beautiful, pristine. He flew here right? How did he manage to keep them in one shape with the speeds he flies at.

“H-how did you fly with—” You don’t even finish the question before he’s answering.

“I don’t have to fly at super speeds all the time. You’d think my most loyal fan would know that.”

“You can read minds too?” Falls out of your mouth before you even think about what you're saying.

“No. You’re just very easy to read.” He places his hands on his hips, naturally defaulting to his superhero pose.

And sure, maybe the way your eyes move in between the window, him and the flowers is a dead giveaway but you still don’t think it’s that easy to figure out exactly how your thought process works.

He seems unhappy with your lack of enthusiastic response. He probably expected you to jump at him, wrapping your arms around him in pure glee that he’d do such a romantic thing.

He nodded towards the bouquet, raising his eyebrows.

“Anyway, your flowers. You might want to put them in some water. Unless you plan on fondling each petal all night.” You don’t know whether he said it that way on purpose or if your absurd attraction to his voice is reaching new heights but the imagery that conjures is not one that would belong at a dinner table. There’s a different kind of petal-fondling you have in mind for later.

“Sorry! I’m sorry. And thank you. Really, this is very kind of you. They’re beautiful.” Finally, he’s satisfied with that response, his shoulders relax a bit, his chest puffing out as he sees you hold the flowers closer to you.

You’re all over the place and your movements are in no way elegant or thought out as you awkwardly stumble around, pulling out the biggest glass you could find. This ends up being a large glass measuring jug which you admit looks rather strange, and you don't miss the way he raises his eyebrow at the display.

Well, it was a lot better than if you used the bucket you keep under the sink for cleaning. It’s not like you have a perfect pretty vase ready for this occasion. Until now you didn’t have anyone bringing you flowers and you never really bought any for yourself.

He doesn’t comment on the miserable display. Instead he focuses on how wound up you are.

“Jeez, you’re even stiffer than last time. You know I usually fuck my dates after dinner, but if you need me to loosen you up…” His crude attempt at humor and breaking the ice just has your brain screeching and halting all actions.

“What?! No, nonono. That won’t—That’s not. I’m sorry. I’m just surprised. That you’re here.”

“I did tell you I’d come. And I’m pretty sure you’re not plating up two plates for yourself there silly.” He shakes his head while clicking his tongue, as if disapproving of your doubt.

“I mean, I’m surprised that you want to do this. With me.”

“Why wouldn’t I? I’m here aren’t I? Last time I checked I asked you out, not the other way around. And trust me sweetheart, I don’t do shit out of pity.” He walks closer to you, his hand patting the side of your arm, settling his hand there and sliding it up until he reaches your jaw. The leather of his glove is cold, some raindrops still stuck in the crevices.

Although your heart rate picks up, you smile genuinely. Getting the straightforward confirmation that he wants to be here with you warms your heart. “Alright.”

“I’m sorry I don’t have everything ready. I lost track of time. Do you mind just sitting down, I’ll finish up in a second.”

“Yup, can do.” He sits down at the small table slapping his palms on his thighs as he does so. Already peeling his gloves off, discarding the gloves at the edge of the table.

You finish up the plating, trying to make it as neat as possible. You bring the plates over, one in front of him the other right opposite. “Um, do you drink beer? I got some in case you do. I know you do endorse some but I’m sure that doesn’t mean you have to consume it in your free time.”

“No thanks, never got the taste for it. Have you got milk?”

You blank a little at the request. It’s not the typical pairing by any means but who are you to tell him what to like. Instead you comply, tucking away the little preference into the corner of your mind where you keep all your knowledge about him.

“Um, yeah. I do. Again, I got one you’ve done marketing for, just in case you did like it. I wasn’t really sure. Believe it or not there’s a lot I don’t know about you.” You admit. It’s not like everything that his Marketing team puts out is all real. You're sure they leave out any of his actual preferences so future advertisers don't clash with any competition.

“With this logic I’m surprised you didn’t buy the entire store.”

“I was close to it.” You take the carton out of the fridge, shutting the door with your hip. “Do you want it warm or cold?”

“Cold is fine.” You nod, pouring some into a glass placing it in front of him.

As a last touch you take two roses from the huge bouquet, popping them into a narrow tall glass filled with water and you place the romantic decoration to the side of the table before sitting down.

He strangely smiles at the gesture, something about it feeling awfully domestic. It may not be perfectly manicured but it's real and it does the job just as well. It's not a perfect setting made for a photoshoot. You're just trying to impress him with what you've got. All for his enjoyment only. And that alone makes it a lot more special.

Suddenly being right across him really set the reality of the situation. You feel a little awkward about the setting. But there is really only so much you could have done with your small apartment. And it’s not like he hasn’t been here before. He knows what you're working with.

You watch as he cuts into the steak, stabbing it with his fork and bringing a piece to his mouth.

“Wait! You’re not allergic to anything right?!” You suddenly panic, feeling cold sweat pour over you at the thought of your irrational thoughts from earlier coming true.

He looks thoroughly amused but he doesn’t answer and instead just takes the bite.

“Are you always this worried on dates? Or do you get them to fill out a questionnaire beforehand?” He seems to enjoy throwing all these little jabs highlighting how much of a nervous mess you are in his presence.

“I don’t usually cook for my dates on the first date. There’s usually nothing to worry about.”

“I did ask you out for dinner. This is your own doing missy.” He waved his fork at you, pointing at you being the one to blame.

“You think I’m—oh. I’m not complaining about this, oh my god! I just didn’t really know what you like! Surprisingly not a lot about that online. They really know how to keep you a mystery. And even superheroes have allergies! How was I to know whether you’ve got one or not? But even if you did, it’s not like Vought would release that information.” You ramble on, trying to explain yourself but you’re really just digging yourself a deeper hole. Not that Homelander looks particularly put off. If anything, the amused grin spreads to both corners of his mouth.

“You know I’m not here for the food right? Though this is not too bad. Didn’t think you had it in you.” He raises his eyebrows in appreciation.

“I live on my own. I don’t know why you’re surprised to learn that I can cook for myself.” You said feigning offense but inside you were squealing at the compliment.

“When’s the last time you’ve had a date?” He changes the topic, with each passing moment he’s less interested in the food and a lot more honed in on you and what little secrets you can let him in on. Though he’s still happily nursing the glass of milk.

“It’s been a while, I guess.” You’re overcome with this anxious feeling in your gut. Is it meant to be a dig at the date you’ve prepared? Is he saying that you’re not desirable enough to be dated?

He catches you off guard with his smug little smile. “Thought so. Guess you’re too busy being my biggest fan, huh?”

You nearly choke on your food, surprised and flustered by his words. The tell-tale sign of heat creeps up your neck and to the tip of your ears in embarrassment. He’s hard to read and you can’t tell whether he’s trying to humiliate you or if he genuinely enjoys the reminder of having someone fawn over him right there and then.

You put your cutlery down, softly clinking it against the plate. “Look, I’m really sorry about all that. I’m a fan but I’m not crazy.”

“I didn’t say you were.” The corners of his mouth comically pull down feigning innocence with a shrug.

You playfully roll your eyes. “You insinuated. I’m just saying I wouldn’t have all this stuff out if I knew you’d ever see it!” You wave your arm in the general direction of the rest of your humble apartment. Still littered with Homelander merch. If you had more time to prepare for the date you would have maybe even taken some of it down. Replace some posters with photos of friends or family, making you appear a lot more put together. But alas, your guilty pleasure is still blatantly obvious and out for anyone to see. It's all the worse that in this case it’s being seen by the featured star of your guilty pleasure himself.

“There’s no shame in being a fan.”

“No, but it’s different to collect memorabilia and merchandise of a beloved superhero that you don’t ever expect to witness the madness and to actually have him see it all and feel objectified. As if all there was to him is just the plastic he can sell with his face on it.”

You don’t know why you’re getting into the heavy-duty topic of someone’s worth and value but maybe part of you just wants to present yourself as someone who cares. Someone who looks beyond the obvious.

Homelander is similarly perturbed by your words. Clearly not used to fans taking such direction with him. Thinking about it you doubt he hears more from them beyond a predictable can I have a selfie?

He furrows his eyebrows for a second tilting his head. As if he’s trying to look into your brain to read your mind. And sure he can literally see inside your skull but it doesn’t help him understand your thoughts. So instead he digs deeper. Putting the glass of milk down he looks you straight in the eyes.

“You don’t think that’s it?”

His resolute question makes you pause, feeling as if you overstepped. And even if, there’s no way to backtrack anymore so you continue. “O-of course not. I know you’re more than what Vought puts out there.”

You’ve spent countless hours following the content Vought markets out to the public. All of it manicured to match his perfect brand and profile. They’re slick enough to control even the content fans put out. From conventions to random street encounters. You remember following a thread of an anonymous fan sharing their experience of getting barraged by Vought’s lawyers after they shared a post about a poor experience they had meeting one of their superheroes. You haven’t heard an update from that story in a while, god knows what happened to the fan. Maybe Vought’s lawyers managed to get their anonymous account too.

“How would you know?” Irritation seeps into his tone, shoulders tensing, feeling exposed right before he slides back into his normal casual tone and body language as if remembering that he’s meant to be talking to a date and not some nosy interviewer trying to get the next scoop.

“I mean who hasn’t put up a face to show the world their perfect self? Whether it’s on dates or in front of friends. I just imagine that doing that in front of the whole world means there’s a lot you feel like you have to hide.” With each word you feel like you’re digging yourself a hole, ruining any chance of another date. But you’ve started saying your piece and when else are you gonna get the chance to tell the man exactly how you feel?

So you continue.

“I just think it has to be exhausting. Your entire job, your life is existing in the public eye and you can’t ever slip up? Not super-abled celebrities deal with that already but for you there’s the added burden of being seen as the superhero right? ��Here to save us all’. I just mean, do you ever get to be yourself?”

You mean to be sympathetic, not that you could ever imagine what it’s like to be in his shoes. Being as obsessed as you are, you've watched all the footage with him. You notice how often the same lines repeat, how well he’s perfected the mask of a perfect hero. The fake humble you’re the real heroes being repeated in every video and appearance. If it was you, you know you’d have enough a while ago now. The daily grind of a job is exhausting enough but to do that all under the public’s scrutiny? You couldn’t even imagine.

You were so lost in your little monologue, spilling all the little thoughts you had about him and his persona that you miss how his casual demeanor has once again shifted into something else. He’s less irritated but he’s tense. Even more so than before. He wears an expression you’re pretty sure you’ve not seen on him before. His jaw may not be dropped but his surprise and confusion is evident without it.

He’s speechless. Thinking about it now, has anyone ever spoken to him in such manner before?

You watch his body language and the way he’s squeezing the fork so hard you’re sure he’s bent the metal.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep. It’s just once I get going I can’t stop!”

He lets out a breathless little laugh. His shoulders release in tension. He stops gripping the cutlery and sure enough it has a bend that definitely wasn’t there before but you don’t care. He’s not pissed. He raises his free hand waving you off and stopping you from apologizing any further. Something you’ve managed to do about a hundred times since his arrival.

“No. No, it’s fine. You didn’t.” He shakes his head a little, looking at you with a different look in his eyes. No longer just looking for a little bit of excitement, now he’s truly locked in. What else can he get you to say? “Well maybe you did a little, but color me intrigued anyway.”

He looks at you in a way that makes you feel small. You feel like you’re on your knees praying for your god to hear out your prayers knowing it’s unlikely for him to even notice you.

“Can't say I've heard any of that before.” He concludes, slumping back into the chair now that he's relaxed again, having lost all interest in the food you've served up.

You’re embarrassed by the call out. It’s like all your efforts to not appear like another crazy fan have been pointless. He might not seem angry but that doesn’t mean he’s about to jump at the thought of another date. You may have ruined your chances at this being anything more than mild entertainment to him so you try to save yourself. “I just mean. I have always wanted to get to know you. The you without the cameras.”

“You already have. I don’t go on dates with many fans, believe it or not. And I gotta say you’re a lot more interesting than I gave you credit for.”

And maybe it wasn’t such a lost cause yet. Have there been many people that Homelander has ever found genuinely interesting? You wouldn’t know but at least you’re one of them.

“Oh…ah-hah thank you.” You fluster under his heavy gaze. His words make your heart skip a beat. There’s very little that can match the euphoria of your hero, the hero really, saying he finds you interesting. It’s hard to calm the pounding of your heart at the thought of a man of his caliber seeking your company out.

After all you’ve managed to blurt out you feel more at ease. It’s not awkward like you expected it to be. In a way you’ve broken the ice you didn’t know was even there.

With you both losing interest or having had enough of your meals you move to the small but comfortable couch. And like any good dinner and movie date you put on the first title that gets advertised to you on the main page of the Vought+ streaming platform.

In reality the movie doesn’t get watched. Either you let it play in the background or you pause on sections just so you can continue the conversation between the two of you. And somehow it’s still mainly you literally just rambling on about him. It’s not that he doesn’t talk or doesn’t ask questions about you but you see the way he preens at all the enamored praise you send his way.

The only parts that do get watched is the small cameo Homelander ended up having in the title and the conversation steers back to him. He gives you all the details you ask for, more than happy to talk about how great of an actor he is.

With each minute of sitting close to him you feel your body respond to him. You feel hot. Too warm for the cardigan you’re wearing but you don’t want to seem too forward by taking it off. Especially after knowing what kind of trouble he could get up to in between your legs it makes it very hard to accidentally brush against his thigh and not spontaneously combust.

Homelander turns around to look back into the room while you’re dealing with your internal turmoil. Would it be too unseemly for you to initiate?

Your thoughts are interrupted when his bare hand cradles your jaw, bringing you in for a kiss. The whimper you let out is embarrassing but you quickly lose track of anything that’s not his hot lips melting you into a puddle. Just as things are about to get good, just when you’re about to pry his lips open with your needy tongue he pulls away. He doesn’t go too far. You can still feel his hot breath while he rests his forehead against yours.

“I’ll have to set off. I need to get back to Vought tower.” He hums so close to you that you get goosebumps from the way his voice turns all low and hushed. Even though the words he’s saying are anything but good news, the attractive sound still soothes you.

“Oh-kay.” You nod. A little sad but understanding that he’s got things to get to. Every part of you is holding back from pulling him in for more but as much as your fingers twitch for him you restrain yourself.

“Come on now. Don’t sound so upset.” He gives your cheek a soft little pat before placing another peck on your lips with a chuckle from behind his closed lips.

The taste of your lips pulls him in anyway and he holds you close for a few more indulgent kisses. Upon separating you’re warm and flustered. His touch always seems to have that effect on you.

“It's just… I had a lot of fun today.” And you don't want it to be over or for it to be the last time you see him. But how do you ask him out?

While your limbs still feel like jelly, having melted into the couch, he stands up, walking over to the little dining table where he left his discarded gloves, pulling them back on.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head, I’ll be back.” He clearly reads your expression and watches as you stumble while getting up, clearly wanting to see him out before he flies off.

His words alone are good enough to lift your spirits and you let yourself show that joy outwardly.

“Thanks for today.” When’s the last time you’ve ever felt this in the moment? Even if he never came back this moment would easily be a highlight you look back on.

“Well, aren’t you sweet?” As if he couldn’t restrain himself his eyes snapped in between your eyes and lips, his eyelashes fluttering, lips parting as he took in the sight of you. So eager to please and be there for him. He wets his lips and your stomach flips at the display. The pink of his tongue disappearing as quickly as it appears.

His eyes soften, lips stretching into a lazy lopsided smile.

“Do I get a goodbye kiss?”

And just like that with one last kiss he’s off again, returning to his duties.

This isn’t where things end with you two. If anything, your life takes a massive turn. It’s not been the same ever since you’ve won that silly competition. And it strangely makes you want to send a gift basket to whoever organized it, no matter how much you dislike Vought itself.

At first he comes back to you seeking comfort.

He strolls in through your balcony door which you’ve gotten into the habit of leaving unlocked—just in case. It’s not like there’s anyone else eager to fly into your home. You awake at the disruption, eyes bleary and straining in the harsh light of the nightstand lamp you’ve turned on to see what’s going on.

He doesn’t explain himself as much as he just vents to you about how he’s not being respected and taken seriously. It’s the first time he’s been back since your date and you’re surprised to see him so emotive. So unlike the perfect persona or even the carefully charming guy he presented himself as during your date.

He’s already pacing back and forth, the thud of his boots bound to disturb your neighbors below. Not that either of you care. He’s too preoccupied with being angry. And you’re too frazzled by the thought of something upsetting your hero to this degree.

You see the angry tremor in his hands and the sharpness of his teeth, highlighted by the yellow night light. You snap out of the sleepy daze and you catch his gloved hand when he paces in front of you.

You pull him down next to you, cooing supportive words and showing your own anger at seeing him be so disrespected by Vought. You believe they don’t know how lucky they are to have someone like him. They should revere him, yet the things he lets slip in his anger make your chest tight, fueling the rage simmering inside you.

It’s like seeing you riled up at the way he’s being mistreated is enough to calm him down. The more you seethe the more he cools down, the energy exchange working in between you perfectly. He’s pleased to have someone in his corner. Preening at how much you parrot the words he’s saying without needing to nudge you in that direction.

Swoop-in visits like these happen more regularly. Either he comes in irritated wanting to get some frustration and anger out, fucking you throughout the night until all he can think of are your moans and cries telling him it’s too much.

Or he comes in happy, excited to share the news that his numbers are up or that the public and the on-scene reporters couldn’t stop praising him after his latest save. Those days he comes in for affection and a cuddle, wanting to hear over and over again just how well he’s done since you’ve last seen him. Treating you less like a stress ball and more like a teddy bear he’s hugged against his chest in comfort.

You start thinking how lonely he must feel. The thought that there aren’t any people around him showering him with genuine love and friendship hurts you and suddenly you want nothing more than to keep him here with you, making sure he knows just how special he is.

As much as you’ve always been devoted to this god-like being and the idea that he represented, you never got to love the person. Until now. Now the ideology alone has seeped into your never ending love, fueling the suffocating adoration you hold for him. So strong it’s eating away at you anytime you don’t get the chance to scream how much you love him.

You used to see these late night visits as something he does for his own benefit. With you always being the easiest and most effective balm to his troubled soul. You didn’t think he was serious with you. After all, this is the Homelander you’re spending every other evening with.

So when he sends you flowers out of nowhere, effectively courting you, you start thinking that this might be turning into something real.

It starts with the first delivery at your door. A gorgeous bouquet bursting at the seams, tagged with a note saying it’s from Homelander. Since then he’s made sure to supply you with the most beautiful bouquets as if to keep a reminder of him on a daily basis. You finally invest in a pretty vase, knowing it’s going to be thoroughly used and displayed.

Your home always had touches of Homelander throughout it—some might even say too many. However, as your relationship grows you come to a realization that those really only represent Vought. It’s these new touches that really represent Homelander’s presence in your life. Like how he times the flower deliveries just right so your place is never empty. Always there to remind you to keep him at the forefront of your mind. Never wavering.

You two haven’t officially said that you’re dating throughout these nighttime visits but it’s at the tip of your tongue each time he comes. You want to voice the love you carry for him like a burden. Overflowing from your arms with nowhere to go. And it feels like each second you don’t say it, it’s being uselessly spilled on the floor like sand falling from in-between your fingers.

Homelander has his own way of showing affection. Seeing as so much of his life has been in front of some sort of camera you wonder if thinking in advertising scripts and photoshoot visuals comes to him more naturally than casual and real gestures. As ever since he started with the flower deliveries he’s been showering you with gifts upon each visit. As if everyday had to be Valentine’s day and he had to bring something to symbolize the reason for his visit.

You call him out on that one day.

“You know you don’t have to bring anything right? You don’t need to bribe me.” You chuckle at the gift box he brought with him. You’ve got dozens of similar gift boxes and bags that you feel reluctant to get rid of mainly for the sentimental value but the retail price associated with the gift they hold certainly doesn’t help.

He clasps the gifted necklace around your neck. The dainty chain lays cold against your skin and your fingers gently caress the pendant with care. Your statement still rings true but you can’t help but feel giddy every time he brings you something he thought would look great on you.

“Do you not like the things I bring you?” With a perplexed expression you see him trying to do mental math, trying to figure out why you could possibly not kneel or bow in gratitude. He watches you play with your new pretty jewelry with a squint.

“No! It’s all beautiful—this one especially—just. I don’t want you to feel like that’s an obligatory part of you being here.” You laugh it off a little, still dreamily thinking about what it really means to get pampered to this degree.

He breaks your thoughts with a simple sentence.

“Maybe I want to treat my girl.”

Your eyes widen, and you let out a shocked stuttered breath.

“Your girl?”

“Yeah, duh.” He scoffs as if what he said is as obvious as the sky being blue and water wet.

“Because you’re mine, right?” You don’t see the way his eyes reflect his own complicated and simmering feelings. The tension in his jaw betrays how he needs you to acknowledge his words and speak them into an existence. But you don’t notice any of that because it’s like the dam you’ve been doing your best to hold together with safety pins finally bursts.

You’re nodding feverishly. No longer able to hold back you’re possessed to blurt out the words that have been threatening to fall off the precipice of your tongue for weeks.

“I love you.”

Homelander’s eyes widen. Surprised by your admission just as much as you are. Your heart is racing, suddenly feeling insane for thinking this was anything more than simple fun to him. The knee-jerk response to apologize spills easily from your lips.

“I’m sorry—,” but instead he interrupts you by cradling your jaw in his bare hands, stepping closer.

“Don’t be sorry.” He says in a low rumble, sending shivers down your spine. He leans in to give you a tender kiss. Just barely slotting in between your parted lips, pressing them against his. Before you get the chance to continue he pulls away with enough distance to speak up.

He breathes out, eyes squeezed shut in longing which to an untrained eye would just look like pure pain and frustration. But not to you. You’ve learned to read him better.

He nuzzles his face against yours, dragging his lips across your cheek until he reaches your ear, growling a weak, “say it again.”

You’ve partially gotten used to the timbre of his voice in your ear. Capable of having a conversation without getting worked up by every word he says but the way he’s now needily begging in your ear has your body erupt in goosebumps. He doesn’t need to say please for you to hear it anyway.

“I-I love you.” You whimper out. The emotion alone feels thick in your throat, as if it was clogging up your airways anytime you come up for air. Your heart is pounding, you’re strung up, the butterflies in your stomach make you antsy.

His hold on your jaw tightens. With a sharp intake of breath he smashes your lips together. No longer composed and tender. Your teeth nearly clash as he’s pressed you close to him. He’s prying your lips open with his, his whimpers easily falling into the press of your lips.

“Again.”

“I love you.”

You don’t want to cry but you’re so overwhelmed with emotion the burn that turns your eyes glassy spills over and you’re dripping tears down your cheeks in pure emotional instability.

“Again.”

And each time he asks he sounds more wrecked.

“I love you.”

Homelander catches the tears with his tongue right before kissing the salty taste into your mouth. Not letting any of your love get wasted. You grab onto him, grasping where you can. Your hands tangle in between his as you wrap them around his neck. One hand grips as much of the fabric of his suit it can while the other tangles in his hair, pulling on it for support more than anything.

You feel like you’re drowning. The intensity of the moment makes you gasp for air but it’s like Homelander kisses it back into your lungs like a lifeline. Hearing his shattered whimpers soothes you, his own need fueling yours, filling the void your tears are leaving behind.

He lifts you up and with practiced ease you automatically wrap your legs around him.

He leads you both to the bedroom while he’s continuously prompting you to continue declaring your love to him. Each again, again, again you reward with the three words that make him feverish and mad. The more you say it the less your heart feels like it’s about to explode from the burden it’s been carrying for too long.

Homelander quite literally rips your clothes off, not caring that he’s leaving his own recent purchases in tatters. He doesn’t want to separate his lips from your neck where he’s kissing trails across each inch of your skin.

You don’t have the luxury to treat his suit with the same carelessness. Even if you wanted to, the tough molded material would make it impossible. Instead you do what you can. Unclasping his belt, pulling at the front of his suit, pushing his pants down where you can reach.

He helps you with taking off the rest of it until he’s on top of you, skin to skin. You rarely get the luxury of lying with him fully stripped and each time you’re shocked at how hot he runs. Now his hot body is making you melt under the heat alone.

Neither of you have stopped kissing with the same intense need that has been laying there dormant for months. Anytime you have the chance you repeat the same words over and over again until they’re all you know how to say.

It’s the first time sex has felt anything more than a physical relief he comes to you for. You’re barely keeping it together as he nudges your legs a little open, sliding his hand down your body, his palm blazing hot as the anticipation makes you clench your core.

It’s by no means either one of your first times, nor it is the first time you’ve been together yet you’ve never felt more nervous. The first touch he descends onto your clit feels like a lightning bolt crackling down your spine, spreading the tingles out to your toes and fingertips.

“Ahh hah—fuck. Want it so bad, don’t you?” He looks as broken as he sounds when he hisses at the feeling of your soaked pussy. It makes his fingers glide too easily, making it harder to give your clit the precise rhythm he’s learned to make you see stars with.

His attempt at his normal dirty talk is disrupted by his keen moans and broken whimpers. Part of you wonders whether his super senses include being able to feel other people’s sensations with the way he’s acting as if it was him getting his body set on fire.

You hum and ahh in response, your tongue feeling incapable of saying anything but the words you’ve been finally allowed to repeat over and over again.

His fingers easily slip inside the sloppy mess you’ve made for him and he moans right into the kiss he leans in to steal from your lips. And it feels good. The friction is perfect, his fingers are hitting the right spot inside you and the loud squelch is embarrassing and intoxicating in equal parts. Yet it’s not what you want.

It takes all your strength to reach down and pull his hand out of you, as instinctively you’re already clenching around the all too familiar emptiness you whine at every other time when he’s done with you.

“I want you. Please. Just you.” You manage to breathe out, your hand reaching over for his hard cock. You give him a few shaky strokes, smearing his leaking precum across the entire length.

“Alright. Uh huh, okay. I’ll give it to you.” And he’s just as out of it as you as his normal cocky one-liners just break into a lot of grunts and stutters.

He wedges himself in between your thighs, spreading them wide open. His lips part with a wistful sigh while his eyes haze over with lust at the sight of your pussy spread ope, generously glistening with slick all made for him.

He aligns his cock with your entrance, not even bothering to tease you. He’s just as strung out as you are. He splits you open with a single thrust, your slick pulling him in with an easy glide.

“I love you.” For the first time the confession spills from Homelander’s lips. A relief just as palpable falls upon him. It’s a different story for you. The words cause more tears to spill, a wet hiccup leaving your throat as you clench around him.

“Shh, shh.” He hushes you sweetly, already reaching back for you.

He lays his body flush on top of yours and kisses your tears away, the heat and weight of his body on top yours grounds you. He repeats the words over and over again in between wet, messy kisses. He ruts into you in shallow thrusts as if he doesn’t want to part from you any second longer.

Nothing in the world exists but you two and neither one of you can believe how perfect you really are for each other. You’ve always felt like the way you love was overwhelming. It left the other person choking on the overwhelming viscosity of it all. Homelander isn’t like that. To him your love is a breath of fresh air.

As long as you love him with the same unyielding intensity he’s yours. At this point, he wouldn’t know how to live without it.

He kisses you in a way that says just that. Needy and broken yet utterly completed by you.

You’re both so worked up with the overflowing emotions it doesn’t take much more than his frenzied grinding to make you both reach the release that’s as emotional as it physical. Maybe even more so.

Because the reward isn’t just a good orgasm. It’s the love that fills the air, spilling into every empty crevice you didn’t manage to fill with your bodies.

Homelander’s whimpers resemble cries as he finishes inside you right as you flutter around him with the toe-curling orgasm wracking your nerves.

It takes you a little while to regain your mental faculties after such an emotionally draining affair. You feel boneless, your limbs feel like jelly and you just lie there dazed. Focusing on the way your heart beats loud even to your ears.

Homelander is doing the same thing. Listening to your heartbeat with his head on your chest.

After a long while you both pull yourself together. Still in bed but now you’ve managed to strike up a normal conversation again. Talking about everything and nothing.

You lie like this for what feels like hours. Having changed positions you rest your head against his chest, ear pressed to his pecs to listen in on the steady beat of his heart.

After this reveal your brain recognizes your relationship as the utmost priority. Because of that your eyes lock onto the Kuddle Buddy plush resting just a foot away from Homelander’s head. As if you were locking onto an enemy. You pluck it from the pillow, squeezing it in your hand.

You’re staring at it, still clutching it too hard.

“What got you thinking so hard? You’re making my head hurt from how tense you are.” Homelander interrupts you from your thoughts.

“Just you. This. I can’t look at this stuff these days without—I don’t know—rage? To know how much Vought has wronged you.” You furrow your eyebrows, assessing the innocent plush toy while it’s staring back at you with its stitched grimace.

“That’s what the toy reminds you of, really? It should remind you of me.”

“It doesn’t anymore.” Your furrowed expression slowly melts into one of content as your hand presses against your new necklace. “Things like these do.”

“And these.” Your fingers continue to travel up your neck where they tap at the darkened patches you feel he has left behind. With soft nipping and sucking he left your neck coloured in all shades.

He plucks the plush toy from your hands, throwing it somewhere across the room with thankfully not enough strength to knock anything else over. You’re pretty damn comfortable and you’d rather not get up to assess any damage.

“Maybe I should give you more reminders then.”

You squeal as he easily pulls you up so his lips can meet yours, kissing your worries out of your mind.

Homelander lands on your balcony with a soft thud. It’s late in the afternoon, earlier than he normally arrives, and he doesn’t want to attract unwanted attention. Already predicting the shit Madelyn would put him through if he got caught regularly perusing outside some random person’s apartment.

His person’s apartment really. You’re not just a random boring nobody.

He makes his way in quietly, closing the door and stepping in. Each time coming back to your apartment has felt more like coming home than he’s ever felt at Vought. You’ve arranged your life around him. He’s noticed you cancel plans, call off events just so you could stay in in the evening, waiting for him to make his return.

You even make space for him in your small apartment. The state of which he’d normally scoff at but it’s hard to mock your financial situation when you manage to make the place feel warm.

His presence left its mark in the gifts you happily displayed or the flowers you always took good care of.

And of course, the insane collection of merchandise you’ve spent years accumulating.

Wait.

Where is everything?

Homelander looks around, breaking out of his routine and instead he scans the surroundings as if it’s the first time he’s ever been here. Only now does he realize that all the usual merchandise carrying his likeness is gone. No posters on the walls. No action figures on the shelves. No funko pops. No collectibles. Nothing.

Homelander feels his blood pressure rise. There’s no way you’d want to get rid of him. Not you too. You love him. You wouldn’t do that.

He finally notices the black trash bags pushed into the kitchen, still open and overflowing with all the things missing from your walls.

His stomach flips.

No. Nonono. This can’t be happening.

You can’t get rid of him like this. He can’t lose you.

Not after he’s finally tasted what real love in cooking tastes like. Or what it’s like to wake up next to someone who instead isn’t pushing you away straight after sex. Someone who makes an effort for him. Not out of fear but out of love.

He mentally compares everything you’ve changed his perception on.

Like when you give him a gift or help him out it’s different. Vought employees being at his beck and call could never compare.

He’s the most powerful man in the world, with means that don’t feel like they have an end yet he could never buy the love you give freely. For once, love doesn’t feel like pulling teeth. It feels like a warm embrace on a cold winter night.

You make it easy. You don’t fake it. And most importantly you do it unconditionally. Love him through thick and thin, the devotion to him a part of your very core. Your love is overwhelming, oozing and sticky like he’s never gonna be able to get rid of it. Just like you could never get rid of him.

You’re the only one who hasn’t left him.

Exactly. It can’t be. You wouldn’t.

This has to be some kind of a mistake.

The shuffle of your slippers against the floor breaks him out of his spiraling thoughts. He looks up sharply. Seeking some sort of explanation.

“Hey baby. You’re early today—what’s wrong?” The smile drops from your face as quickly as he sees it and it’s only then he realizes his hand is shaking. He squeezes it into a fist, the leather creaking with the pressure as he takes in a labored breath with a jittery shake to his head.

“W-uh-what is… What are you doing?” He blinks rapidly, shaking his head pretending that his voice doesn’t quiver and waver the way it does.

“Bit of spring cleaning. After we talked the other night I just can’t look at this stuff and not think how much Vought has used you. I don’t want those reminders. It’s not what I thought it was and now that you opened my eyes to it, I can’t forget. So. Out with it.” You say so casually, not picking up on the panic he’s been going through in his head.

“Oh—okay.” He lets out a visible breath of relief, his posture relaxing. “I thought—” His jaw tightens and he looks away. Thought so heartbreaking, he doesn't want to give it voice.

“You thought I was getting rid of you?” You stop what you are doing. Putting the box on the couch and instead you walk up to him, hand on his jaw you turn him back to look at you.

“You’re not getting rid of me that easy.” You kiss him, and Homelander melts right into it. He lets himself melt into the loving embrace of your pliant lips.

“Good. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.” When you pull away he puts his hands on your jaw, tilting your head as if he was inspecting you. Seeing if what you’re saying is true. And he can’t see a single speck of a lie with the steady beats of your heart and the taste of love on your lips.

“So what are you doing with all of it?”

“Selling it, donating or trashing some I guess.”

“Why not sell it all?”

“You can buy a Homelander poster or card at any shop for a few bucks. I'm not gonna bother with those.”

“What if I sign them?”

“Oh please don’t waste your time. You’re not here to be a show pony.”

“Nonsense, come on. Bring it out.”

Homelander ends up taking the stack of posters with his or the Seven’s likeness from the top of the trash bag, placing them on the coffee table in front of the couch. He sits down, hooking his cape out of the way. He picks up a pen off the table already signing the first poster.

Part of him is still upset that you feel like throwing a part of him away. Is this part of him not good enough for you anymore? It’s how he found you, how he got to know you and now it feels like you’re throwing it away.

As if you could read his thoughts you sit down next to him, placing your hand on top of his as he’s halfway through his signature.

His head snaps up towards you, expression clearly guarded while he looks you over with his piercing blue gaze.

He carries his upset so visibly it would be hard even for someone as unaware as you to miss it. His smile is tight, not even attempting to reach his eyes.

You pull the pen out of his grip, instead wrapping your hand around his. The other one goes to his hair, scratching your nails down his scalp until you reach his undercut where you play with the shortly buzzed hair.

“I’m not getting rid of you. Not now. Not ever.”

At that he leans into you, nearly purring at the pleasure your scalp massage brings him. The way you touch him with no hesitation will never cease to amaze him. There’s enough love pouring off you to almost fill the black hole in his heart.

It was exhilarating to have someone so eager to keep him in their life. Everyone else has just pushed him away, entertained him until they got what they wanted. Not you. You give and give and give. Sometimes he’s scared you’ll run out of love to shower him with. However, one look at you tells him that the love you carry feels just as much of a burden as his need for it does to him. You free each other by sharing the love. You feed his insatiable beast of a heart and he lets you burst the dam free without feeling like you’re not allowed to.

The posters are forgotten about. Any hurt brushed away with a press of his lips to yours. Needy and hungry, wanting to see if you can prove your words with actions. Again and again.

And you do. Like you’ve done a hundred times before and just like you will do thousands of times over.

Taglist (you can add yourself to be tagged when I post a new Homelander fic)

@morishitoshi @ker0senebunny @itsvaleriesucka @thychuvaluswife

@nervoussystemss @littlegaaby @natliecole @thatvintagefanboy

@infinetlyforgotten @rafecamsgirlll @hom3landr @mrsdesade

@nommingonfood

#yayyyy it's done #I need to learn to keep my chapters at a reasonable word count honestly #homelander x reader #homelander x you #homelander #homelander fanfiction #my writing #the boys fanfiction

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suzukiblu · 1 day

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Thank-you sentences for derpsheep behind the cut; weird amnesia Timberkon. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“You can recognize their heartbeats?” Bernard asks incredulously–that is a very creepy and invasive thing to recognize about someone, much less be passively listening to, what the fuck–and then frowns. “Wait, got back from where?”

“Long story,” Superboy mutters. “Alternate realities were involved. It sucked. But I got back here, and it’s supposed to be right, and there’s people I recognize, but there’s . . . different people, too. And no one here recognizes me. And I thought . . .”

“That you were either totally insane or just stranded in the wrong reality for no discernable reason with no idea how to find the right one?” Bernard assumes.

“That, yeah,” Superboy says tightly. “Definitely that.”

“Good news, I guess, if you are insane, it’s a shared delusion, and if you’re in the wrong reality, so am I,” Bernard says. “Because again, I definitely remember you. And Hawaii. And Superman being dead. And like, all that shit in general. Also you kinda died that one time too? There was a statue, I’m pretty sure. Actually I think there were two.”

Superboy’s smile is tight and humorless, and he digs his fingers into the inside of his wrist. Bernard has no clue how a dude in such severe and obvious distress can look so fucking good about, like . . . literally everything he’s got going on over there. It’s a lot of “everything”, is all. Superboy is a lot no matter what, obviously, but still. Like, extra a lot. Secret bonus levels of a lot.

A lot.

“I mean, there used to be,” Superboy says, and the pained smile he’s wearing turns–bitter, kind of.

Fuck, Bernard feels so bad for this dude. Like so many levels of so bad.

“Don’t take this the wrong way but I need to google some shit,” he says as he digs his phone out. Tim is clearly taking his sweet-ass time in the bathroom, and since he isn’t actually in there waiting for Superboy, it’s gotta be a Bat thing, which usually gives him a good fifteen or twenty minutes of fuck-around time before Tim makes it back with the weak excuse du jour. Or, like, three and a half weeks, one very memorable and kinda fucking awful time that Bernard had spent wondering if jumping into the timestream was how vigilantes ghosted you. “And maybe check some forums or something.”

“I don’t think ‘is this weird dude at the boba shop crazy’ is gonna pop up on Bing, man,” Superboy says, still wearing the same bitter smile. Bernard wonders why he didn’t just go to the Justice League and explain himself to them. Like, they’d probably believe him, right? Or at least they wouldn’t instantly not believe him; they’d check things out or whatever.

Alternately, though: half-Kryptonian full-telekinetic with Lex Luthor’s DNA and Superman’s face who doesn’t even know if he’s crazy or not.

So like . . . that seems like an awkward conversation to have with Superman, maybe, Bernard allows. Or just fucking agonizing and terrifying and wildly, wildly likely to end in one of those stupid misunderstanding-based super-fights and, like, maybe also getting drop-kicked into the Phantom Zone because said stupid fight would be against Superman and that is, apparently, what Superman usually does with supervillain Kryptonians. And probably Superboy is having some very understandable issues about getting drop-kicked out of reality right now, if that’s a concern he’s had. Which–the Phantom Zone isn’t the same thing as an alternate reality, as far as Bernard’s aware, but also what the fuck does he know about the Phantom Zone?

Bernard googles, in quick succession: Superman’s death, the Phantom Zone, and Superboy. He gets a ton of articles and photographs and blog posts with absolutely zero trace of Superboy in a single one of them, a lot of contradicting intel about what the hell the Phantom Zone actually is, and also some blurry candid photos of a ten year-old in ripped jeans and an S-shield hoodie that he’s never seen before in his life.

. . . so that’s weird, yeah, Bernard observes, blinking down at his phone.

“Huh,” he says, brow furrowing. “Hey, should I know this kid?”

“Did you literally just google ‘Superboy’?” Superboy asks, which is notably not an answer to Bernard’s question.

“Obviously, yeah, the entire internet is in my pocket, why would I not do that,” Bernard replies reasonably, still scrolling through random photos of this completely unrecognizable kid. Said kid continues to look like a total fucking stranger and Bernard continues to have zero clue who he is or why he’s wearing the “S”. Another clone, maybe? Like, an even mini-er mini-Super? Bernard can’t see his face all that clearly in any of the pics, still, but he’s at least got Superman’s coloring, it looks like.

“Because Tim would give you shit about it, probably, I don’t know,” Superboy lies, because he very obviously does know. Probably better than Bernard does himself, come to think of it, which is kind of a weird thought but also, like, an obviously objectively true one. Superboy’s spent a lot more time with Tim than he has, even having been, like . . . unrealitied and all.

God, that is still so disturbing a concept, too.

#timberkon #bernard dowd #kon el #conner kent #superboy #wip: weird amnesia timberkon #derpsheep

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kikyoupdates · 2 days

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For Tomorrow's Sake ⭑˚💫⭑ 𝑏𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑠𝑡'𝑠 𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑒

various!jjk x f!reader

reverse harem, isekai, jujutsu kaisen x fem!reader, slowburn

You never believed reincarnation was possible, least of all in the fictional world of Jujutsu Kaisen. However, from the moment you meet Gojo Satoru, it’s impossible to deny. Whether it’s a miracle or some kind of curse, you find yourself growing up alongside the strongest jujutsu sorcerer. Unfortunately, you know what the future holds in store. You know exactly what kind of tragedies await. Perhaps that’s why you were brought into this world. If it means saving people from a gruesome fate, you’ll gladly suffer in their place. You’ll do whatever it takes. All for the sake of a better tomorrow.

prologue | story masterlist | next

When faced with the demands of the strongest sorcerer, your family can’t possibly protest. Well, not that they would have wanted to, anyway. They must be happy they don’t have to deal with you anymore.

Out of sheer spite, your mother insisted you live with the rest of the clan and be forced into a life of cruelty and discrimination, but even she would never dare defy Gojo Satoru. Besides, her wish has already been fulfilled. You still won’t have a shot at a normal life. Even if you had been given the right to choose for yourself, now that you’ve met Satoru and discovered what world this is, there’s no way you would ever take the easy way out.

For better or worse, you will be a jujutsu sorcerer.

True to his word, Satoru was able to convince the Gojo Clan members to let you stay with them. You’re not sure exactly what he told them, but he may as well be their deity. Granted, he’s still only a kid, but in the grand scheme of things, bringing in a single girl to stay at the estate isn’t that big of a deal. It isn’t a difficult request to fulfill. Based on the way everyone turns up their noses at the sight of you, however, you can tell they aren’t too happy about it.

“No one here will ever hurt you,” Satoru promises. He keeps glancing over at you every few seconds as he leads you through the grounds of the estate—which is massive, might you add. He’s a lot more attentive than you were expecting. The way he’s looking at you makes you feel like you’re a weak, helpless baby bird. Which you might as well be, in all fairness.

You nod and smile brightly. “Okay. Thank you, Satoru. I’m really happy to be here.”

“Are your injuries really painful?” he asks with a frown. “We don’t have anyone here that knows how to convert cursed energy into positive energy. But if I try asking, maybe they can reach out to another clan and bring someone over to heal you.”

“You don’t need to go to the trouble. I’ll be okay.”

Satoru watches as your grin somehow gets even wider, despite the fact that the bruised, swollen parts of your face must be aching uncontrollably. He’s not sure why you’re always smiling so much. It’s not like you ever had any reason to smile. Not with how horribly your family has always treated you.

Then again, that’s exactly what drew him in. Your warm, sunny disposition, which is so starkly different from what he’s used to. Even if it doesn’t make much sense, a smile suits you. He likes seeing you smile.

He’s already decided that he’s going to protect that smile of yours.

You’re given a nice place to stay. Satoru insisted that you live in the same building as him. It’s obvious that he wants to keep you nearby, in case anyone dares to try anything. Although you’re willing to bet that they won’t risk upsetting him. Not when he’s made it clear that you’re off-limits.

It’s kind of crazy how much power and authority a literal child has.

Gojo Satoru is in a class of his own. The details of his upbringing were never openly disclosed in the anime or manga, but you know for a fact that he didn’t have anyone he could truly call a close friend. Not until he met Suguru.

You may be hopelessly weak for now, but if nothing else, you’ll make it so that he never has to feel lonely.

That night, you settle into your big, spacious room. You didn’t bring anything along with you for the move. It’s not like you had any personal belongings to speak of. Certainly nothing valuable, either. Your new room is a bit empty right now, save for a few decorations here and there, but you resolve to brighten it up and make it your own. All in due time.

Before you tuck in for bed, Satoru stops by.

“Hi,” he greets, poking his head into the room. “You don’t mind if I come in for a bit, right?”

“Of course not,” you smile. “Go right ahead.”

He nods and steps inside. There’s a clan member waiting by the doorway, and they flash you a brief glare before turning their back towards you and sliding the door shut. As expected, you’re far from popular. They probably think you’re just a hindrance, or maybe even a distraction. You’re not sure if they’ll ever change how they feel about you, but it’s definitely better than staying with your own family.

Besides, as long as Satoru likes you, that’s more than enough.

“Is this room okay?” he asks, kneeling down onto a cushion. “If you don’t like it, I can get you a different room instead.”

“It’s perfect,” you reassure.

“Really? You can be honest. I can tell that you’re the kind of person to hide how you feel because you don’t want to upset anyone else. I already know your dad is the one who beat you, but it didn’t look like you were going to rat him out.”

“I just didn’t want to stir up even more of a fuss. Besides, seeing other people get hurt won’t make me feel any better. I’m happy enough just to be here. Again, thank you, Satoru. For helping me.”

You sure like to thank him a lot. He’s not really used to being thanked—for anything, really. He’s being trained and brought up as the strongest sorcerer. It’s a given that he’s meant to save and protect those who are weaker than him. But you don’t take any of that for granted. You’re never shy about showing your appreciation. You want him to know how much every one of his gestures means to you.

He likes that. He likes it a lot.

“If it’s alright, I’m going to try and go to sleep now,” you say. “I’m pretty tired. I can hardly keep my eyes open. Oh. Did you want to spend the night in my room? Like a sleepover? Would you be allowed to do that?”

Satoru blinks. The invitation catches him off guard, and he watches as you pat the spot beside you, on your futon, still smiling brightly.

He turns away in a hurry, cheeks red.

“I-It’s fine,” he stammers. “I should sleep in my own room. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. It seems like you are, so… I’ll leave now. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” you happily reply, but Satoru is already out the door, nearly tripping over his feet in the process.

You giggle at the sight. He’s so adorable. You can’t even express how happy you are to be here. The future may look grim, but you’re determined to change it, no matter what it takes.

That night, you dream of a world where Gojo Satoru is saved.

“Satoru. Here, try this. I made yummy rice balls for us to eat. There’s a secret ingredient inside. Can you guess what it is?”

Satoru reaches out and takes a rice ball into his hands, furrowing his brows as he looks it over. As far as rice balls go, it looks pretty normal. It’s actually rolled up really neatly. He’s surprised you made this yourself. You did a pretty good job.

“Secret ingredient, huh?” Satoru shrugs. “Sure, I’ll try it.”

He takes a big bite, and although he’s not really sure what he was expecting, it definitely wasn’t this.

“Gross!” he exclaims, immediately spitting it out of his mouth and onto the ground. He then proceeds to stare at the inside of the rice ball he just bit into. “Did you… you actually put chocolate inside of this? Disgusting! What’s wrong with you?!”

You frown. “What, you mean you don’t like it? I actually think it’s pretty good. I was sure this combination would be a hit.”

Satoru watches, horrified, as you bite into your own rice ball, smiling all the while. There might actually be something wrong with you after all. He’s starting to realize that you’re slightly unhinged.

“Remind me not to eat anything you make ever again,” he shudders.

“I’ll pick something better next time, don’t worry. Oh! How about this? What do you think of rice balls stuffed with ice cream—”

“No.”

This is what most of your days look like. It’s been just over a week since you arrived at the Gojo estate. Your injuries have almost fully healed. Also, you’re no longer required to do chores at virtually every waking moment, so whenever Satoru isn’t busy with training, you spend all of your time together.

Satoru has to do a lot of different things. It’s not just honing his jujutsu abilities, day in and day out. He isn’t allowed to slack off when it comes to academics, either. It’s clear that his family intends for him to be perfect in any way possible. They refuse to let him settle for anything other than the best.

It’s a lot of pressure for a kid. Satoru makes it look easy, but nevertheless, you feel sorry for him. Which is why you always try to make sure that he’s having fun when he’s with you. You want him to have some semblance of a childhood, at the very least.

Of course, you still can’t grant him the freedom you wish he had. It’s always inevitable that someone gets in the middle of your time together.

“Master Satoru. It’s time for you to work on your studies.”

One of his usual attendants comes to pick him up. Satoru clicks his tongue in visible annoyance, but as always, he doesn’t protest. He has a strong sense of duty and purpose. A determination to uphold his responsibilities as the strongest.

Before he leaves, though, he turns back towards you.

“I want [Name] to come with me today,” he says. “She can at least sit in the room while I’m doing my work, right?”

The attendant blinks. He’s bewildered, of course, and you’re not sure what else to do but bat your eyes at him with a bright, hopeful expression. You may be weak, but you’d like to think that you’re a pretty cute kid. It’s about time someone developed a soft spot for you.

“She’ll distract you,” the attendant refuses. He narrows his eyes at you in frustration, so apparently, you’re not that cute.

Satoru pauses for a moment, then grabs you by the hand and pulls you close.

“I want her there,” he insists, interlocking his fingers with yours. “She’s coming. I’ve already decided.”

“Master Satoru, you can’t—”

Too late. It seems like he’s in an awfully stubborn mood today, so for better or worse, you find yourself in the same room as him while he has his lesson.

It’s a bit awkward. Satoru told you to sit right next to him the whole time, and although he doesn’t allow himself to get distracted, it still feels weird to be sitting in on a private lesson. While the teacher glares at you the whole time, no less.

“Do you know what the answer to this question is?” the teacher asks, pointing to one of the questions in the textbook Satoru is learning from.

Satoru chews on the inside of his cheek, deep in thought. “It’s… B. The answer is B.”

“Sorry. I’m afraid that’s not correct,” the teacher says. She scribbles something down onto a piece of paper. “It’s alright. That was an exceptionally advanced question, so I can’t blame you for—”

“It’s C.”

To be honest, you didn’t mean to voice your thoughts aloud. It was a reflexive, absentminded remark. The answer was just so obvious that you ended up blurting it out.

But now, both Satoru and the teacher are staring at you in bewilderment.

Satoru turns towards the teacher with a frown. “Is she right?”

“...yes,” the teacher replies, looking somewhat reluctant to do so. “But it was a multiple choice question, so I’m sure it was just luck. Let’s move on to—”

“[Name], what about the next one?” Satoru asks, pointing towards another spot on the page. “Try answering this one, too.”

So, you do. You don’t just answer that question, but the next one, and the next one after it, and the next one after that, and so on and so forth. The teacher looks both amazed and horrified. Even Satoru can’t seem to hide how taken aback he is. They’re both staring at you like you’ve been hiding this incredible intelligence all along, when really, you’re kind of cheating. You died when you were sixteen years old. Satoru is incredibly smart for his age, but even taking that into account, your years of lived experience give you an obvious advantage.

Still, you have to admit, it feels kind of nice. Finally being acknowledged for something, that is.

Satoru’s lesson ends, and you can see the teacher whispering to the other Gojo Clan members about what just happened. Their eyes all widen in shock as they glance your way. They believe you’re ‘gifted’ all of a sudden, and while it doesn’t mean much for a jujutsu sorcerer, at least they might think a bit more highly of you from now on. Maybe they’ll finally approve of you being by Satoru’s side.

“I didn’t know you were smart,” Satoru admits. “To be honest, up until now, I thought you were kind of dumb.”

“...oh.”

“I didn’t mean it in a bad way.”

“Is there a good way to be dumb?”

“I just meant that you seemed a bit dumb, because of how straightforward and simple you are. And you’re nice to everyone, no matter how badly they treat you. You’re easy to take advantage of, so… yeah. I thought you were dumb. Sorry.”

Satoru chuckles sheepishly. You snort in response, amused by his uncharacteristic shyness. You suppose it doesn’t really matter whether people think you’re smart or not. From the moment you were born, it was clear that you would have to defy everyone’s expectations. You’re going to have to work harder than most in order to prove yourself. In order to have a chance at saving people.

“You’re doing that thing again,” Satoru remarks.

“What thing?”

“It’s a thing you do sometimes. You drift off, and even though you’re usually smiling all the time, your face will get all serious for a few moments.”

“Oh. I guess I have a habit of getting lost in my thoughts. Sorry. I just really want to get stronger. I end up thinking about it a lot.”

Satoru doesn’t know how to respond to that. It’s strange that you’re so fixated on improving yourself. He’s the strongest, so of course, there’s a heavy burden upon his shoulders. He has to be the best. It’s both his birthright and his destiny. There’s simply no way around it.

But as for you…

Come to think of it, do you actually need to become stronger?

He’s already decided that he’s going to protect you. Even if he hasn’t known you for very long yet, he likes having you around. There’s no reason why he can’t look after you. It’d be nice if you got stronger too, he supposes, but it’s not like you’d ever be stronger than him. With him by your side, your future is already assured.

Which is why it’s weird. There’s this urgency and desperation he senses from you, almost constantly. It’s not like your family is around anymore. And even if they ever tried to take you back, he wouldn’t let that happen.

And yet, you’re still determined to become stronger. It’s almost like there’s something you’re not telling him. Something more than just a simple desire to prove yourself.

…then again, maybe he’s reading into things too much.

Word travels fast, and soon, pretty much everyone in the clan has discovered that you possess intellect far beyond what they imagined (not really, but whatever, you’ll take it). Satoru keeps insisting that you be allowed to sit in on his lessons from time to time. They reluctantly allow it, and sometimes, you even help answer some of the questions he has—instead of the teacher whose literal job it is to do so. She doesn’t seem to like you very much, unfortunately.

One night, as you’re preparing to go to bed, Satoru stops by your room again.

He does this a lot. He usually makes a point of saying goodnight to you before he goes to sleep. It’s adorable, and it warms your heart to see that he’s starting to care for you so much. Sometimes, you still can’t believe this is the life you’re living.

You were expecting him to poke his head into the room before exchanging a few words, as usual, but this time, he turns up with a futon of his own.

“I’m sleeping here tonight,” he declares.

You blink. “Oh. You got permission?”

“Yes. They whined about it a lot, but I said I didn’t care. It’s not even a big deal. You said before we could have a sleepover, right? Unless… you changed your mind.”

He averts his gaze, looking a bit bashful. Perhaps he’s worried that you’ll refuse. Although you’re not sure who in their right mind would turn away this adorable little sweetheart.

“I definitely didn’t change my mind,” you grin. “I’m always happy to have a sleepover with you. We can stay up all night telling each other scary stories! I know a few really good ones.”

“Why would I be scared of some stupid stories?” Satoru brushes off. “I’ve already exorcized all kinds of cursed spirits. And none of those were scary, either. I’m too strong to have anything to be scared of.”

“You’re just saying that because you haven’t heard them yet. You act tough now, but I bet you’ll be crying later.”

Satoru rolls his eyes as he lays his futon down next to yours. He doesn’t think much of it at first, but once he’s lying down, facing you, and when he realizes just how close the two of you are… he’s embarrassed to admit that his heart starts beating a bit faster.

“If this is weird, I can leave,” he mumbles.

“It’s not weird at all. Like I said, I’m happy you’re here. Ah. You’re not just trying to come up with excuses so you don’t have to hear my scary stories, right? I see right through you, Satoru. You’re not sneaky.”

Satoru laughs. It’s a pleasant, melodic sound, and you hope you’ll be able to hear it more often from now on.

Before you can start telling your stories—you really do have some good ones you’re excited to share—Satoru scoots in a bit closer, then gently places his hand down on top of yours.

“It’s okay,” he says, and since you’re not sure what he’s referring to, you just frown. “I mean, it’s okay if you’re not strong, because I’m strong enough for the both of us. Before, I said I’d be your friend if you showed me how you planned on getting stronger, but… it’s fine. You don’t need to do that anymore. I’ll still be your friend. I don’t care if you’re weak or not. So, don’t worry about what anyone else says. I’ll stay with you no matter what.”

Through the dark of night, you can’t tell, but he’s blushing profusely right now. He feels like he just said something really cheesy. But he’s not going to take it back. He doesn’t regret it. He means it wholeheartedly.

You, his first ever friend, are irreplaceable.

More time passes, and as much as it pains you to admit, you still haven’t gotten any stronger.

While Satoru is busy training, you do the same. You try your absolute hardest to make some kind of progress, and yet, the changes are minimal—if any. It’s as if your body simply isn’t cut out for this, which is a bitter irony. To think that you’ve been reincarnated into a world where you have the potential to do a lot of good and help a lot of people, but your weakness is holding you back.

The knowledge you have is invaluable. You know that. Even if you’re not all-powerful, you still have the ability to make a difference. But this is Jujutsu Kaisen. A world in which death isn’t just possible; it’s more common than surviving. If you don’t have any way of protecting yourself and others, who’s to say you’ll even last long enough to save everyone?

It hurts. You hate being weak. You hate that your efforts yield no results. Unlike in the real world, where people can usually make up for talent or skill through sheer dedication and hard work, here, your fate may as well be sealed.

“Not like that,” Satoru says, shaking his head. “Do it like this.”

He proceeds to give you yet another up close demonstration of his cursed energy at work. He flattens several pop cans in one fell swoop, while you’ve been struggling to do the same to a single one of them.

You exhale tiredly. “Stop saying it like it’s second nature. You have better control of your cursed energy than anyone else. I can’t possibly compare.”

“Well, I don’t really know how else to explain it,” he shrugs.

Your shoulders slump. A while ago, you had your sixth birthday. Which means it’s been slightly more than a year since you’ve gone to live with the Gojo Clan. A whole year, and still, you’re as weak as ever. You know it’s still too early to give up, but it’s hard not to feel discouraged when you have Satoru by your side, and every day, you’re reminded of the fact that you’ll be helpless to change his fate if this continues.

“You’re getting upset again. Even though I keep telling you that it’s okay if you don’t get stronger. You have me. You won’t ever need to be scared.”

Satoru smiles and wraps his arm around you, pulling you into a loose hug. During your time together, he’s become a lot more cheerful and expressive, which is of course due to your influence. It makes you happy to see, and you’re overjoyed that he cares about you to this extent. If you didn’t know what the future holds in store, you would’ve been more than willing to sit back and let him protect you.

He doesn’t realize that he’s destined for an early death. He’s so sure of himself, so confident in his strength, that he doesn’t even consider it to be a possibility. Which is why you do need to become stronger. Even if he doesn’t understand why.

You hug him back for a few moments, then pull away—much to Satoru’s disappointment.

“Where are you going?” he asks.

“To train some more. I already talked to one of the clan members earlier. They agreed to help teach me. Reluctantly, but still.”

“But we’re supposed to be having a lesson together soon,” he says, making a point to pout at you.

You smile weakly. “Sorry. I’ll be there next time. I just… can’t afford to slack off. If I keep working hard, then eventually, something will give.”

Of course, as you expected, your supervised training session doesn’t go much better. You can see the clan member repeatedly rolling their eyes at your lack of talent. The only reason they’re helping you at all is because Satoru insisted they honor your requests.

Once again, you’re left feeling hopeless and deflated. You wonder if you’ll ever see any improvement, or if you truly are beyond salvation. Destined to be so weak that you can’t protect a single person.

Not even your dearest friend.

You stare down at your feet, gaze glassy, and for a moment, it feels like you’re about to cry. Isn’t there anything you can do? Anything at all? Some kind of trick that will allow even a weakling like you to have a fighting chance?

Some kind of… trick?

All of a sudden, your eyes widen.

Since meeting you, Satoru’s life has become a lot more fun.

He enjoys having you here. He never thought it would make that big of a difference, being able to spend time with a kid his own age. And not just any kid, but someone who’s taught him how to smile, laugh, and appreciate simple moments he used to take for granted before. He’s glad he made the decision to visit you again that fateful day. If he hadn’t done that, every day would still be just as monotonous and boring. Every day would be unbearably predictable.

Satoru can never predict what you’re about to do next. It’s strange, because at first glance, you seem like a simpleton, but you always manage to find new ways to surprise him.

Like right now, for instance.

“[Name],” Satoru calls out. As always, he knows exactly where to find you. He can tell everyone’s cursed energy apart, and although yours is scarce, it easily stands out the most to him. It’s comforting and familiar. He’s fully committed it to memory by now, and if he wanted to, he could write a whole essay describing it.

It doesn’t take long for Satoru to find you. For some reason, you’re standing in place and staring off into the distance with a vacant expression. You’re also holding something in your hand. Is that… a knife?

“[Name],” Satoru repeats. He frowns as he steps closer to you. “What are you doing? What’s the knife for?”

You don’t respond at first, but then you turn towards him, in a rigid, unsettling manner. Your eyes are wider than he’s ever seen them before. Even your lips are slightly parted, as if something has you in awe.

“I understand now,” you mumble breathlessly.

Whatever it is that you understand, Satoru definitely doesn’t. He’s unbelievably confused. And seriously, what’s with the knife? It’s starting to freak him out.

Satoru knits his brows together. “What are you talking about? You’re being weird. Also, put the knife down before you end up hurting yourself.”

“Okay. But first, let me show you something.”

You take a hurried step backwards. Satoru still doesn’t understand what’s going on. You’re never this cryptic. It’s throwing him off, and for some reason, he’s getting a bad feeling about all this.

That bad feeling turns out to be right, because moments later, he watches as you drag the sharp end of the knife across your skin.

“Don’t—!”

Satoru cries out, but it’s already too late. There’s blood everywhere. It’s a deep gash. A serious injury. You’re wincing, looking lightheaded from the pain, as if you’re about to pass out any second. Satoru instinctively knows he has to get help, and yet, he’s too shocked to move. This has never happened before. He’s never watched someone get hurt in front of his eyes—someone he cares deeply about—and been helpless to do anything about it. He’s the strongest jujutsu sorcerer. A special, chosen existence. But right now, all of that feels pointless, because you’re in pain, and he doesn’t know how to fix it.

“It’s okay,” you breathe out. “Just… watch.”

Satoru is about to cry out again, more desperately this time, but suddenly, he sees it.

Your body is… healing?

It’s true. The gash on your arm, the one you just inflicted with the knife, has already fully healed. You pause for a moment, then wipe the blood off your skin, so that he can see more clearly. Sure enough, it’s gone. There’s no trace of the wound that was there a second ago. Almost as if what happened just now was a figment of his imagination.

“Reverse cursed technique,” Satoru mumbles in disbelief. “You… when did you learn how to do this? You never mentioned it before. And I didn’t notice any changes in the flow of your cursed energy, either.”

“I learned it just now.”

“What?”

“A few minutes ago. Before you came to find me. All of a sudden, I just knew how to do it. The knowledge appeared in my mind.”

Satoru frowns. Something isn’t adding up. Converting cursed energy into positive energy is a very complex technique. Few individuals are actually able to pull it off. Even he doesn’t know how to heal himself. But such an ability was able to manifest in you? He supposes it’s not impossible, but given the nature of your cursed energy, and your overall lack of skill… it seems unlikely.

“I wanted to become stronger.” You pause for a moment, then shake your head. “Sorry. I needed to become stronger. So, I did. I wasn’t sure if it would work, but just now, I was able to confirm it.”

“What do you mean?”

“I think you already suspect it. That I didn’t obtain this ability naturally. I was frustrated that nothing was working, no matter what I did. I just couldn’t seem to improve, regardless of how hard I trained. So, I… took a gamble. I made a Binding Vow.”

Satoru blinks. “A self-imposed vow?”

You nod enthusiastically, but it still doesn’t make any sense. Would someone really gain the ability to use positive energy through a simple vow like that? It’s the first Satoru’s ever heard of it. And since healing is a rare, valuable power, most people would love to get their hands on it. If it was that easy, surely everyone would opt to do it, one way or another.

Once again, Satoru has a bad feeling about this.

“I already knew that by imposing restrictions on yourself, through a Binding Vow, it’s possible to increase your cursed energy and empower your technique,” you say. “I wasn’t sure if it would work for me. Converting cursed energy into positive energy is complicated, after all. I knew I had to make it a pretty serious restriction, in order to have any chance of succeeding. Even then, it still might not have worked.”

You pause yet again, while Satoru’s breath hitches in his throat, and the next second, you’re smiling brightly, like always.

As you utter the most horrifying words Satoru has ever heard.

“In exchange for gaining the ability to use reverse cursed technique, I’m never allowed to use my cursed energy to harm anyone else, whether it’s a human or a cursed spirit. And if by some chance I do… I’ll die. Instantly.”

Satoru’s jaw drops open.

“...what?!”

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maybe-im-dark · 12 hours

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Mating season

Logan sat at the edge of their shared bed, fingers tapping against his thigh in a steady, anxious rhythm. He couldn’t sit still, couldn’t keep his mind from racing. Every nerve in his body felt like it was on fire, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t shake the restless energy coiling around him, tightening with every second.

Wade was sprawled across the other side of the room, flipping through a comic book with one hand and munching on a bag of chips with the other. He kept sneaking glances at Logan, eyebrows furrowing a little more each time he saw the older man shift.

“Okay, spill it,” Wade said finally, tossing the comic aside and sitting up. “You’ve been fidgeting like a cat on hot coals for the past hour. What’s going on with you, Logan?”

“None of your damn business,” Logan snapped back, sharper than he intended. He rubbed his hands over his face, trying to focus, trying to will the tension away.

Wade tilted his head, studying him with that infuriatingly curious expression. “Come on, you know I’m not gonna leave you alone until you tell me. We both know how persistent I can be.”

Logan growled low in his throat, but he could feel Wade’s gaze on him, insistent and unyielding. “Just… drop it, Wade. I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Well, I do.” Wade leaned forward, elbows on his knees, eyes locked onto Logan’s. “Come on, just spill it. What’s going on with you?”

Logan sighed, running a hand through his hair, and for a moment, he looked anywhere but at Wade. But then he took a deep breath, and the words spilled out before he could stop them. “It’s… It’s my mating season, alright? My body’s all wired up because of it.”

Wade blinked, taken aback, and then his expression morphed into one of genuine interest. “Wait, you mean like, because of your mutation? It makes you go into heat or something?”

Logan shifted uncomfortably, feeling the heat creep up the back of his neck. “Yeah, something like that. It’s not exactly something I can control.”

“Why didn’t you say something earlier?” Wade asked, and Logan shot him a look.

“Because it’s embarrassing, alright?” Logan snapped. “You think I want to admit that I’ve got some animal instinct making me crazy?”

Wade was silent for a moment, his eyes thoughtful, and then he grinned, leaning in closer. “You know, I could help you with that.”

Logan’s eyes widened, and he stared at Wade, searching his face for any sign that he was joking. “You… you’re serious?”

Wade shrugged, his smile softening into something more sincere. “Yeah. I mean, why not? We’re both here, and if you need help, I’m not gonna let you suffer alone.”

For a long moment, they just looked at each other, the air thick with unspoken tension. Then, Logan let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, nodding slowly. “Alright. But if you tell anyone about this—”

Wade held up a hand, cutting him off. “Not a word, I promise.”

They stood there for a moment, neither one moving, and then Logan reached for the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head in one swift motion. Wade followed suit, his eyes never leaving Logan’s, and when they finally moved to the bed, it was without hesitation.

As they slipped under the covers, the warmth of Wade’s body pressing against his, Logan felt some of the tension ease from his muscles. For the first time in days, he felt like maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t alone in this.

The lights dimmed, and as they disappeared under the blankets together, the last thing Logan saw was the soft smile on Wade’s face, the kind that promised understanding without judgment.

And for once, Logan let himself believe that he didn’t have to face his instincts alone.

#hugh jackman #wolverine #deadpool and wolverine #deadpool #ryan reynolds #poolverine #deadclaws #i did the thing #i wrote them fucking #oh lord #oh lord i did it #this has been on my mind since forever

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judesmoonbeauty · 1 day

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SurpriseBag2024: A Happy Switch-Up Between The Cunning Mobster & The Happiness-Obsessed Oddball

This is a repost. Due to the original being deleted by Tumblr, my tags list will not be included nor will CGs be uploaded per my previous announcement. This is a fan translation only, so please expect grammatical errors and lack of nuance. While I appreciate your support and welcome re-blogs, please do not repost my translations elsewhere. Thank you for you support! ☾.

I got involved in Roger's egoistical cursed research.

Ellis: Huh? Why is Jude me?

Jude: That's my line. Why’re ya me?

I was asked to watch over Jude and Ellis, who had switched places.

(As a fairytale keeper, I wanted to watch over them until the end.)

(......But I want to watch over them anymore.)

Jude: ………

(Jude in the form of Ellis is in an even worse mood than usual!)

Child Passing By: Mum, there’s a demon.

Mother Passing By: Hey. It’s dangerous so don’t go near him……

(Ellis' face is so handsome, but when he’s irritated, it's very powerful.)

(Ugh, I miss the usual gentle Ellis.)

Kate: Kate, this gelato I just bought is delicious.

Kate: Ah, yes. It has a rich flavor, yet it's not too sweet.

Jude: Lickin’ ’n lickin’ while workin’. Are ya dogs.

Ellis: Dogs don't eat gelato, right?

Jude: So, ya eat sweets in another’s body.

Jude takes a cigarette out of his pocket and puts it in his mouth with a natural gesture.

Kate: Oh, Jude, you can't smoke. That’s Ellis' body!

Kate: Besides, if you smoke it, you'll end up choking again.

Jude: ….Tch.

The reason we’re on the platform at Paddington Station, is because we’re on an important mission for Crown.

Actually, the two of them were planning to work at Jude's company as usual.

[Screen shows a pic of Jude in Ellis’ body.]

Jude: Yer in breach of the contract ya piece of shit…….I’ll show ya hell.

[Show a pic of in Ellis’ body.]

Ellis: Are you okay? Shall I make you happy?

(They stopped so that the people at the company who knew the two well wouldn't get confused.)

The two are now on Crown duty, while Victor and Harrison are at Jude's company posing as friends.

(I have to keep an eye on the two of them and keep up with my assignment!)

Kate: …..Still, the target doesn’t seem to have shown up.

Today's target is the capture and decimation of members of a corrupt business association who are committing theft in the country.

A man believed to be the main suspect was recently arrested by police but escaped from jail.

The Crown received word that he was planning to flee the country.

(The main culprit has a bad leg and limps. I have to make sure I don't miss him.)

Ellis: Kate, I'll give you my berry flavor, too. Okay, ahhh.

Kate: Ahhh.

Kate: Mmm….it’s delicious.

Ellis: Right? We don't know when the target will appear, so let’s just take it easy.

Kate: ……Thank you.

(…….When Jude treats me kindly, the gap is shocking.)

Jude: Oi, Ellis. Don’t do gross things with other people’s faces.

Jude: What’re ya up to?

Kate: I’m not up to anything.

Kate: It's just... it's refreshing and nice to be treated kindly……by you Jude.

Jude: Ha, don’t lie.

Jude’ lips in Ellis’ form twisted cruelly as I was grabbed by my chin.

Jude: Yer a masochistic pervert who needs to be tormented to get excited.

Kate: That, that’s not true……Please don’t treat me like a pervert!

Jude: Doubt that.

(I can never say I’m excited.)

While I was secretly excited, Ellis lifted himself off the bench.

Kate: Are you going somewhere, Ellis?

Ellis: I thought I'd get you something warm to drink.

Ellis: You must have gotten cold from eating gelato, Kate.

Ellis: Ah.

Jude: ……Didja see the target?

Ellis: No. When I stood up, I was just a little surprised that my gaze was lower than usual.

Ellis: Jude, you’re so short.

Jude: ….Ha?

Kate: ….He-hehee.

Jude: It's not that I'm short, it's just that yer a big guy.

Jude: Why’re ya laughin’, too? I'll knock yer head ‘round ‘n make ya shorter!

Kate: I’m sorry. It’s just sometimes you can learn something new when you change things up.

Jude: That’s damned useless information.

Ellis: I'm enjoying being Jude, though.

Jude: Shuddup.

Jude: Yer fluffy conversations are drivin’ me crazy.

At that moment, Jude’s gaze, which was clad in Ellis’ twilight color, were filled with sharpness.

Jude: ……..

Kate: Jude? No way….

Jude: There he is, that guy with the limp.

Jude: It'll be troublesome if he leaves the country. Follow him.

Kate: Ha, …..on it!

We board the train and pursue our target, weaving through the passengers.

Just as I stepped into the last row of the empty cargo area.

Main Culprit: Thanks for following along.........You guys, surround them.

As if on cue, several men jump out from the shadows of the seats and surround us.

(…….we’re surrounded.)

(I had no idea his friends were on board too.)

Jude: Yer very gracious to welcome us. Thanks.

Main Culprit: I knew the coppers were after us. I let you come, so I could get revenge.

(They think we’re the police.)

(Whatever it is, it means they were reading our moves.)

As we stare at each other, our feet shake and the train begins to move.

Main Culprit: We can throw your bodies out of the train and into the river, and there won't be a single piece of evidence left behind.

Main Culprit: It would be the perfect place to die. Go ahead, kill them.

Ellis: …..Kate, stay here so you don’t get hurt.

Kate: Yes….

Ellis tried to jump up as easily as usual, but wasn’t able to do so.

Ellis: Oh, whoa.

Ellis, who’s still in Jude’s form, lost his balance and fell on the spot.

Isla: Huh, Ellis….?

Ellis: Surprising. That’s right, I’m Jude.

(Oh, because his body is different than usual!)

Jude: What’re ya waitin’ for?

Jude:….Damn, what’re these uselessly long legs. They’re difficult......

Main Culprit: I thought you were an elite group, but you’re just a bunch of small fry.

Main Culprit: Take care of them kindly in “moderation”.

Ellis: ....... Hmmm, Jude has strong legs.

Ellis: I'm starting to get the hang of it.

Ellis: ……..Like this.

Ellis’ raised leg strikes into the jaw of the main culprit’s subordinates.

Subordinate: Gah……

(Wow, that's amazing...)

Kate: Oh, Jude, behind you!

Jude: I can see ‘em without ya tellin’ me.

Jude, using Ellis’ body, flew through the air and touched their heads one after another.

Subordinate: Whoa our hands are stuck together! They won’t separate. What is this……

All the men knelt on the spot in a prayer pose..

Jude: I can barely breathe in this body….I hate it.

Ellis: I wanted to use Jude's ability to put them to sleep.

Jude: Ya can't torture ‘em if they’re asleep.

Main Culprit: Hic…..

Jude: …..Let’s make a deal.

Jude: Right to left, James Spencer, Simon Harris, Oscar Perry.

Main Culprit: ……How did you know our names?

Ellis: The names of business partners, family members….he says it's basic to know everything.

Jude: Didntcha guys anonymously transfer the money ya stole to orphanages all over the UK?

(What…..?)

Jude: I did some research ‘n found out that ya ‘n all the other members of the vice society came from the same orphanage.

Jude: Yer all in on it, stealing money from the crooks ‘n usin’ it to give to poor children.

Main Culprit: ……yes.

(You mean he was committing evil and helping people?)

Jude: How admirable, tear jerkin’, think I’d overlook it.

Jude: —What can I say idiot. Yer tears ain’t an excuse.

Whatever the motive, evil is evil.

The fact that once you have been involved in evil, it will never go away.

Jude: I'll letcha choose. Either you’ll be sold abroad, or you’ll be forced to work in a coal mine until your last breath?

Jude: Do you wanna stay alive, be my slave ‘n work for the rest of yerr life?……..Whaddya choose?

Main Culprit: I thought you guys were the coppers……

Ellis: Is that relevant now? He’s asking if you want to die or live.

Main Culprit: ……

Main Culprit: Please just save my life. Please......!

Jude: The slave contract is complete. Congratulations on yer lifetime employment.

Jude: Remember, a promise is a promise…..If ya break it, I'll give ya hell, so much so, that you’d wish ya were dead.

We boarded the turnaround and made it back to Paddington Station without incident.

Kate: ……that was still surprising.

Kate: Jude you wanted them as part of your company's workforce from the start, and Ellis understood that.

Jude: What’s with those eyes? Ya act like I helped somebody.

Jude: I was forced to do a mission that wasn't planned, ‘n I got something out of it.

Ellis: I think it's okay as long as Jude and Kate are happy.

Kate: I….will work even harder as a fairytale keeper!

Jude: Fuwaha, that useless guts argument. That's all ya do.

Ellis: You’re a hard worker Kate, I like that.

(Oh, that’s.......?)

Ellis: What's wrong, Kate?

Kate: Um...even though you look different, for a moment both looked like you usually do.

Jude & Ellis: ……….

Kate: Jude is still Jude and Ellis is still Ellis, no matter what you both look like.

Kate: But ...…..I kind of want to see the two of you as usual.

Jude: I knew ya were a pervert who wanted to be tortured.

Kate: What, that’s not true!

Ellis: Shall I tease you? I've never done it before, but maybe I can?

Kate: ……Please stop teasing me Ellis.

Ellis: Hehe, sorry.

Jude: Let’s switch back quickly. It's about time that quack finished the medicine.

When we returned to the castle, Roger had successfully completed the antidote.

After drinking it, Jude and Ellis safely return to their normal forms and the matter settled.

Or, it should’ve been -

Kate: I am so glad you’re back to being whole!

Kate: Hey, Ellis. What's with the wine and book in your hand?

Ellis: Victor and Harry went to work for us. Thanks for that.

Ellis: So, I picked the wine, and Jude picked the book.

Jude: It’s just a matter of amassin’ debt.

Kate: Hehe, that's right. Because “nothing is more expensive than free”.

Jude: What's with that grin on your face? It’s stupid.

Ellis: Should l I call Victor and Harry?

Victor: That’s not necessary, for Victor has come even before he was called!

Kate: Harrison……?

Kate: .......What's going on? You sound like Victor.

Jude: Have ya finally gone nuts after bein’ smeared in all those filthy lies.

Ellis: Harry is kind, so I wonder if he forced himself...

Victor: ?? What are you talking about?

Victor: No matter how you look at it, it's your dearly loved Queen's aide Victor, isn't it?

Ellis: …….Harry.

Jude: Imitatin’ someone you hate is unpleasant, condolences.

Kate: Very......, -you need to get yourself to the hospital as soon as possible!

Harrison: ……I finally found you.

Kate: …..Victor?

Victor grabbed Harrison's chest with a look of anger on his face that he had never seen before.

Kate & Ellis: !

Victor: Oh.….I'm right in front of me. Why?

Harrison: ……Haven’t you noticed? Look at your reflection in the window.

Victor: Wow, I became you Harrison?

Victor: C-CUUUTE~~! Your hair is so smooth! And the tear mole is cute! 😭 LMFAO

Harrison: Don't touch my body!

Kate: Um, wait a minute.

(Harrison is Victor and Victor is Harrison.)

Kate: Does that mean ...…..the two of you swapped places!

Harrison: Aaah.

Harrison: Victor .……You're the one who got us into this mess, aren't you?

Victor: It wasn’t me! If I were the culprit, I'd probably notice the switch right away, right?

Harrison: …..That’s right.

Ellis: Oh.…on there’s needle marks on Victor’s and Harry’s arms.

Harrison: Someone drugged us with a syringe while we slept.

Victor: Judging from the brilliant puncture work, I'd say there's only one suspect.

Harrison: Roger! That egoistical bastard.….He used us as test subjects for an experiment, didn’t he?

Victor: Wow, Roger’s so passionate about research.

Victor: Ah, Kate. Would you mind telling me a little lie?

Kate: What? Well, I hate you Victor.

Victor: Yes, it's a lie! Wow, I can see them like this, that's amazing.

Harrison: Don't get excited, old man!

Ellis: ...Hehe, it looks like fun.

Ellis: Hey, Jude. Shall we switch places again?

Jude: Ain’t happenin’, I’ll never do that again.

…..To be continued?

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