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auteurdelabre · 18 days

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SO MUCH TO LOSE - CHAPTER 9 - dark!Joel x f!Reader

Rating: 18+

Words: 7.4k

Chapter Tags: sexual tension, mentions of suggested abuse, girl-bonding, Joel being Joel, reader being oblivious.

PREVIOUS CHAPTER HERE

A/N: Y’ALL really came through with the comments! It made me stay up far too late typin’ away. But I’m glad to deliver this to my sweet audience and I hope you continue to bless me with your thoughts, reblogs and funny tags. Also lemme know if you have money and wanna give me some because your girl is BROKE y'all. BROKE.

Wednesday - my bb, my light, my sweet please never stop commenting on A03 because I read those like others read stories. I laugh, I cry, I emote. Never stop.

Also, two people should NEVER ride a horse when one’s in a saddle. It’s horrible for the horse! But this is fiction so y’all gotta forgive me for it, all right?

Lastly - Chapter 10 is.... gonna be memorable. That's all I'm sayin'.

SO MUCH TO LOSE: CHAPTER 9

You toss in bed a short while later, your mind going a mile a minute. You can't get the memory of Joel's furious face out of your mind. You can’t get Ellie’s sad eyes and her tensed shoulders to leave you. You can’t stop imagining what happened the second you left their home.

Part of you wanted to run right back to that house on Rancher Street and to beg Joel’s forgiveness for intruding. It was never your information to gather, not your place to pry. It was information never given willingly and for that you understand his fury. You understand it better than most.

But the other part of you, perhaps the part that had brought you to tears as you left had been the sight of Ellie's horror at your question. Of would Joel hurt her? Because in Ellie’s eyes you saw her own lingering question reflected.

Who hurt you?

It's too complicated to get into, too personal and that's why you think you feel this overwhelming sense of guilt. Because if you'd come home to the space you shared with someone else and heard them divulging your biggest secrets, your deepest wounds, you can't say you would have acted any different.

In fact, you might have been worse.

You turn your head, noting that it's only now starting to grow dark. You hadn't even bothered with dinner. Just pulled on your sleeping clothes and robe and thrown yourself into bed. You wanted to forget the hours before, wanted sleep to claim you and help you erase the day.

But you can’t. You just lay there twisted in your sheets, feeling like a stranger in your own body. You consider trying a warm shower when you hear a sudden thudding on your front door. This isn't Ellie or Jennifer. This is someone else and you have a pretty good idea who.

You think that you should just stay in bed, try to ignore the insistent pounding. But you need to pay for your mistake. This is your penance. You move down the stairs and to the front door opening it slowly.

Joel is standing on your porch, his broad frame looming over your door. His hands are on either side of the frame, braced as if he has to physically hold himself back.

When you pull the door open he juts his chin forward aggressively. He hasn't even bothered putting a jacket on, despite the weather. He's wearing just his green flannel and a scowl that makes you take a physical step back.

"Joel-"

"You think I'd hurt Ellie?" Joel says, teeth clenched. "Hurt my own fuckin' kid?"

You glance quickly over his shoulder noting that the street is deserted. Your street is one of the newer ones, less populated. It makes you nervous to see him looking so furious with no witnesses. But you answer him anyway.

"I don't know you at all," you tell him with a wince. "For all I knew you could have and I felt responsible."

His jaw is clenched tightly, ticking as he glares at you. You can see the fury building there in his frame and it makes you tremble. But you swallow, raising your spine and fixing him with what you hope is confidence.

"You yanked me around on patrols before," you remind him, swallowing your fear the best you can. "You're known for being ruthless with raiders. Most everyone is terrified of you. Is it really that much of a stretch?"

For the first time this evening you think that what you're saying registers with Joel because he blinks and some of that inky black in his gaze grows a soft brown.

"I've never hit you. Never come close." His voice is soft, almost admonished.

"No," you concede, "but you haven't exactly been gentle either."

Joel takes in the way you're cowering, the way you flinch when he shifts. He sobers, lowering his hands from your doorframe, pushing himself back from you.

"I'd never hurt a kid," he murmurs. “I’d never hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it.”

He takes a moment to look at you, really look at you. You wonder if he sees the blotchy pink of your tear-stained face or the dark circles under your eyes from barely sleeping this week.

Joel's eyes narrow and without stepping closer to you it feels like he gets nearer when he speaks low and even.

"Your dad hurt you or somethin'?"

You're momentarily thrown by this question from Joel. He's never really asked you anything this personal before. You toy with the idea of closing the door on his face because he doesn’t deserve to know you this way. But you think of how vulnerable he must feel with you having all this information about his past, about his Sarah, and you answer.

"No," you tell him honestly. “My dad was amazing.”

"Your mom then?"

"No."

You cross your arms over your chest, indicating that the conversation is now at an end. You've shared as much as you are willing to at this point in time.

Joel looks equally stoic despite the nature of his questioning. His eyes drift over your body for the first time since he arrived at your doorstep, fixing on your sleep clothes and open robe before shooting back to your gaze. You pull your robe around your body, shivering at the cold draft coming in from the outside. Joel clears his throat.

"Ellie never should have told you all that about me," he says. "Wasn't her information to share."

"It was my fault. I never should have pressed her for details," you admit, talking to his shoulder. "It wasn't my place."

Joel exhales through his nose by way of reply. The two of you stand in quiet thought before you feel compelled to ask.

"Did Ellie get in a lot of trouble?"

When he doesn't answer you finally move your eyes from his shoulder to his face, surprised to see he's staring at you. He's not going to answer you, you realize. You barely know him and it's between him and his daughter.

You worry that you've messed everything up with Ellie. You feel like it's your fault that the fight happened at all. You think of how pleasant the afternoon had been with flower making and hair brushing. You hate to think of that going away. You swallow, gathering your nerves.

"Am I still allowed to teach her to bake?"

After a moment Joel sucks his teeth and nods shallowly.

You shift where you stand, one hand still on the doorknob. It's warm under your palm. If Joel was anyone else you'd invite him in for a hot drink given the weather. But as it's him you simply stand awkwardly across from him.

Joel peers into your face, gaze darting from each of your eyes to the next and back again. There's something about his stare that feels warm and heavy, something endless.

"Get some sleep."

He says it softly, a husky command with none of its usual bite. Then he's gone, giving you one last look before he's taking off down the stairs of your porch. You watch his tall frame head down your street, scissoring through the night air until he's nothing but mist.

And strangely the second you close the door you feel your feet taking you to your bed. You hear his voice quietly rumbling in your mind as you crawl under the covers.

Get some sleep.

Permission. A command. A hushed order that gives you the freedom to just sink into the warmth of your bed, to close your eyes and feel your breath even out.

And in seconds you're fast asleep.

///

Jennifer greets you when you open your door to leave for patrols the next day, crowding your doorframe.

"I thought we could walk to patrols together."

"Okay." You pull your jacket around you, bracing yourself.

You've known popular girls like Jennifer. The kind that roll their eyes and call you sensitive if you don't like how they treat you. You assume that this is what awaits you now.

"I'm so sorry for how I acted at the Bison."

You can’t say you were expecting that.

"I was trying to impress Joel," she continues. “Make it seem like we were all in on the joke together.”

When you see her standing there with her gloved hands clasped, looking apologetic you feel your animosity dropping from you like an unnecessary jacket.

"And I just... I never should have put you on the spot,” she continues. “I was just trying to go along with things, but that's not how friends act. My mama raised me better than that."

You know that what she's saying is important, but all you can focus on is that she just confirmed you two are friends. You have a real friend.

"S'okay," you offer quietly.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Did you get my cookies?"

"Yep, they were good."

You don't make it a habit to lie to friends but she looks so proud of herself that you can't help it. She beams, clearly proud of herself. She doesn’t need to know that they’re at the bottom of your waste bin.

"I'm so glad you liked them."

You want to say something kind to Jennifer, something that lets her know that you’ve forgiven her. Maybe its guilt from the fact that the cookies were barely touched. Whatever it is you scan her body, landing on her beautifully tailored jacket.

“I like your jacket,” you tell her, observing the dark green and black of the pattern and hood. “It’s really pretty.”

“Thanks, I made it myself,” she tells you proudly. “Barely any time at all.”

“Tell me you didn’t just make it just for this patrol,” you say fixing her with a look. Jennifer goes pink and starts giggling. “Jennifer!”

"Oh hush,” she says elbowing your side gently.

You can’t help but laugh at your friend as the two of you head off to patrols, chatting pleasantly as you make your way down the path to town. Jennifer is animated as always, her voice lilting and cheerful.

“Luke was really disappointed when you took off," she mentions with a sly smile and side eye. "I just know he's excited about today."

You flush, eyes on the ground, not saying anything. The truth is you're very excited to see Luke today. You want to learn more about him, see his likes and dislikes.

"Joel left soon after you did," Jennifer tells you with a frown after a few moments. "But I mean he came and had a drink with us so that has to count for something."

"Totally."

You've reached the fence and see three of the horses lined up, tied and waiting. Luke is patting Glimmer but he waves to you both as you approach. Your stomach flips pleasantly at the sight of his light hair falling into his eyes.

Chestnut whinnies gently as you approach, his long neck arching towards you. You smile as he ambles over to greet you the best he can.

"Hi boy," you whisper, gently patting down his long muzzle. "You having a good day? Huh?"

"Hiya Glimmer," Jennifer coos. You think that this must be her usual ride on her patrols.

"Morning Luke," you offer, trying to appear nonchalant.

"Mornin'." Luke’s smile is shy but earnest. "We missed ya this week."

"Yeah?"

He nods and you feel your face grow hot because you are sure Jennifer is staring at you both with a smirk. "Yeah, missed shootin’ with ya."

You busy yourself with running your hand over chestnuts flank, all the while trying not to read into things. Maybe Luke just likes having a fellow peer there?

Or maybe he likes me.

You have to admit to yourself that you have a crush even if crushes feel so adolescent in your mind after everything that happened to the world. But there’s something that makes you want to laugh at the way some things never change. Humans will continue to lust, even after the earth is swallowed by disease.

"Looks like a simple enough job," Jennifer observes looking at the few pieces of lumber strapped to the horses. Enough that it's good for building but not too heavy for them to carry. You go to reply when you hear a booming voice sounding out behind you.

"S'a fucking joke. Gettin' them all the way over here just to be one short."

Joel is arguing with Hank, one of the crew. Hank is an older with an under bite and bushy eyebrows. He fixes Joel with a formidable stare. He’s one of the few in Jackson City not intimidated by the elder Miller.

"I don't know what to tell ya Joel," Hank shrugs. "It's all we got."

"What's going on?" Jennifer asks, swanning over to the men. She stands close to Joel, her shoulder brushing against his. You notice as his dark eyes sweep over her face as he notices her.

"Only three horses available today," Hank explains to her. "Others were taken out."

"Why?"

"Heard about an intercepted shipment of medicine nearby. Sent a bunch of folks after it. Anyway, one of you'll have to double up."

Joel makes a huffing noise before shouldering past Hank and hauling himself up onto Midnight. He's made it very clear he won't be riding with anyone. That leaves you, Jennifer and Luke. In habit you go to grab Chestnut’s bridle. Jennifer is determined not to go down without a fight.

"I'm small," Jennifer says in a breathy voice you don't really recognize as hers. "I'll double."

She looks directly at Joel who is going to great lengths to look anywhere else. If it weren’t so awkward you might have laughed, but instead you try to hide your smile behind your glove.

Oblivious to the dynamic, Luke pats the side of his horse.

"You can ride on the back of mine if you want Jenny," Luke offers with a friendly tip of his head.

Your smile immediately dies. Why didn’t you volunteer? Jennifer pauses, waiting for Joel to inject.

Get the fucking hint, Joel.

He doesn’t. He just shifts the two guns he’s carrying on his back, clearing his throat.

You see how crestfallen Jennifer looks, but it’s for only a moment before she shines a bright smile Luke's way as she hauls herself up behind him, lacing her hands around his middle.

"Thanks, Luke."

With that settled you yourself mount Chestnut, stroking his mane gently. Hank comes over to hand you a backpack. It’s heavy and you make a soft huffing noise when you hoist it onto your shoulders.

“Nails and hammers,” Hank explains. “You got it?”

“Yep,” you nod, trying to look in command of yourself with Luke’s eyes on you. “No problem.”

You feel the coarse hair of Chestnut under your gloved fingertips and squeeze your thighs to prompt him forward. You follow after Joel in habit with Glimmer carrying Luke and Jennifer close behind. The ride to Teton is quiet, but not in a tense way, more distracted.

The backpack as it stands is a problem though because you’re wincing with every jostling step Chestnut takes. The bag is impossibly heavy and it digs into your shoulders like a too-tight bra.

You hear Luke and Jennifer quietly talking with one another on Glimmer. There are quiet giggles and you hear Luke chuckle softly. You feel irritated at Joel not taking Jennifer on his horse with him. Of course he wouldn't - Joel gets his way every time. So you've lost your chance to bond with Luke.

You could be on the back of Glimmer with him. Your arms could be around Luke's waist right now, your thighs bracketing his. You could be feeling the warmth of his body seeping into your front.

But you're not.

You're stuck in the middle listening to Luke's gentle chuckle behind you and watching Joel's broad frame in front of you. As you stare at Joel with the guns on his back your mind drifts to last night.

Have you and Joel moved past your mutual disdain for one another? You’re not quite sure. Right now you’re irritated with him, but there’s less bite to it today. You think maybe you’re both at a polite acceptance of one another. Joel looks back every now and again, his eyes sailing to you and the group behind you. You roll your shoulders, gritting your teeth when the bag digs into the flesh there.

“’Bout halfway there,” he tells the group even though you’re well aware.

Joel is a natural leader checking in on his troops. You wouldn’t be surprised if he was in the forces before all of this. You know that he worked in construction and that he must have been around horses considering he’s such a capable rider. But that’s it.

Perhaps he and Sarah rode horses together. This thought comes to you despite knowing nothing about the girl. Nevertheless you wonder what she looked like. Was she dour and broad like Joel? You imagine her as bubbly and quick with his dark hair.

You watch as Joel slows Midnight and Chestnut quickly overtakes him, their hooves trotting along the earth until the two of you ride side by side. You’re confused and you feel Joel’s eyes on your profile and after a moment you turn to see him staring at the bag and then back to your face.

“Gimme the bag,” he orders gently.

“I’m fine,” you lie. You wonder if he can see the strain in your neck as you say this. He rolls his eyes, huffing out his nostrils.

“You need to be carrying a weapon,” Joel informs you. “Won’t do much damage to a Raider with a heavy backpack.”

He’s right. He’s not doing it to be nice; he’s doing it to be efficient. How Joel of him.

You want to fight him on it but the thought of having the heavy thing off your shoulders is too appealing. You relent as the horses come to stop beside one another. You tug off your bag, handing it to Joel who straps one of the guns to the side of it and slings it over his muscled shoulders. The bag doesn’t even look oversized on him and he carries it with no strain whatsoever.

He hands you off the large shotgun and you throw it over your shoulder, thankful for the padding in the leather sling. Without another word Joel makes a clicking noise with his tongue against his teeth and he and Midnight quickly head up the group once more.

When you get to Teton Village and the four of you do the usual perimeter check you’re feeling bolder and a little bit restless. You feel like you want to impress Luke but can’t think of any meaningful way to do so. He’ll be upstairs hammering and nailing while you stand watch at the window like a senior citizen waiting for the postman. It’s almost embarrassing that you were brought along at all.

When you approach the outpost though you have an idea on how to appear more capable. You urge Chestnut on ahead of Joel and tie the sweet creature quickly to the tree before jogging up the large old library steps.

“I’ve got the lock,” you call over your shoulder casually. Joel is already off his horse and striding towards you with several pieces of lumber slung over his shoulder; Luke is helping Jennifer off of Glimmer. You turn back, fiddling with the code confidently.

It doesn’t work.

“Fuck.”

You try it again, the same one you were taught and then you tug. It’s still not working.

“C’mon,” you whisper angrily to yourself, “c’mon you piece of shit.”

Again the silver tabs are moved to the correct code and again you jerk it only to find it sticking fast. Is it the encroaching cool weather? Your confidence is hanging by a thread when a large ungloved hand comes out of nowhere, coming to gently bat your fingers away.

“Code changed last week,” Joel says lowly behind you.

You feel the warmth of his taller body behind you, his words stirring the hair at the back of your head. You say nothing as you watch his fingers fiddle with the new numbers, sliding them into place. You want to memorize them for next time. His arm rests beside your shoulder as he works his thick thumbs slide the silver tabs. Finally it unlocks and Joel removes the lock, placing it in his pocket.

“Sorry you couldn’t impress your little boyfriend.”

You feel your cheeks burn with humiliation despite the fact that only he and you could hear the murmured remark. He moves past you, Luke and Jennifer carry the remaining lumber. The four of you make your way into the house and wordlessly Joel heads upstairs to begin.

“That was so sweet of Joel to take the bag,” Jennifer whispers to you with hearts in her eyes. “Chivalrous.”

You don’t reply. Why shatter her illusion of who she thinks Joel is? Maybe with her affection and softness he could become that. Maybe with the right woman Joel Miller is chivalrous and romantic.

Maybe it’s just with you that he’s an antagonistic asshole.

The three of them pad up the stairs with the supplies as you stand by the door. You know you're not much use upstairs so you busy yourself writing in the log notes about the repairs. You hear the banging and the conversations upstairs as you move from the small room towards the window of the fireplace room; your eyes surveying the grey of old snow.

You yawn after a short while, bored. There’s nothing out there. There never is in town. That’s why you like Teton village so much. It’s quiet and sleepy and there’s no real danger. Perhaps it’s the large buildings or the lack of footprints. Whatever it is, you find yourself relaxing.

Joel and Jennifer jog down the stairs with Joel not passing you a glance. Jennifer gives you a thumbs up and mouths “getting more wood”. You hear the sound of Luke hammering upstairs and take a moment to consider your next moves.

This may be your only chance.

You scurry up the steps towards the far room, following the sound of Luke’s hammering. You stop when you see him, mid hammer. His back muscles ripple under his t-shirt, a line of sweat down the middle. It’s warm in this room, and judging by the repairs done they have been working quickly and efficiently.

“Hey,” you offer as you approach him, heartened when he turns and flashes you a friendly smile, wiping the sweat from his brow with the bottom of his t-shirt. You turn away at the sliver of taut abdomen that shows itself when he does. Your whole body is going tingly.

“Hey, you come to help us?”

“Oh I would just slow you down,” you say with a shy laugh, your eyes landing anywhere but his handsome face. “Every time I try to hammer the nail goes crooked.”

“You just haven’t been taught correctly then,” Luke ventures, “come here and I’ll give you a lesson.”

You try to keep yourself from jogging over, attempting to appear casual. He holds his hammer out to you as you approach.

"Here.”

You take it from him, facing the sill of the window that he’s been working on. You nearly jolt when you feel his hands land on your shoulders. He notices your flinch, his hands flying off of you at the first contact.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, sorry just distracted,” you insist, feeling your cheeks heat. “Keep going. I’m fine.”

Luke’s hands go to your wrists now, placing the nail in your left fingers and positioning it on the sill.

“You just need to start with it straight. Lotta people angle it without thinking and…”

You know that Luke’s talking more but you’re having trouble focusing because you feel him pressing up behind you, his hand sliding over yours and helping you to hold the nail in place.

“A lot of people make the mistake of hitting the nail shallowly a bunch of times instead of once or twice with harsh blows,” he explains. You feel a warmth go through your body as Luke's curls over yours. He’s so tall, so gentle, so earnest. You feel his voice rumbling through his chest into your back.

He places the hammer in your right hand before he covers your hand with his effectively holding each of your hands like you're a puppet. He positions the nail in the wood once more, bringing your hand and the hammer back. You’re completely boneless, letting yourself melt into his arms.

"So if you hold it-"

Whatever thought Luke had dies at the sound of Joel's rasping voice behind you.

"What're you doin'?"

You and Luke glance over your shoulders to see Joel scowling. He's got a stack of the remaining lumber over his shoulder. Jennifer is beside him, looking between Luke and Joel in confusion, a box of nails in her grip.

Luke still has his arms around yours, guiding you. Both sets of arms are raised midway. It looks like you’re in some strange dance routine involving hammers and nails. Joel drops the lumber to the floor with a thud, his gaze icily on Luke.

"I was just teaching her how to put up the frame," Luke explains with a soft tone. You recognize that he's a gentle man, not one for confrontation. Joel intimidates him; he likely has since he met him. For whatever reason Joel is especially cold to Luke.

"This ain't a teachin' moment," Joel all but growls, his larger frame barreling towards the two of you. "We're here to do a job and get it done fast so we don’t draw attention."

You feel Luke shrinking back, arms lowering, but his frame still rests behind you as if he's worried about leaving you entirely.

"I wanted to learn how to do the repairs," you explain trying to be diplomatic.

"S'not why you were brought," Joel bites back.

He shocks you when he reaches out to take your wrist, tugging you away from Luke. You stagger towards Joel, eyes wide almost barreling into his chest. He holds you tightly, looking down into your face.

"You're here to keep watch while we do this. That’s your job."

His voice is harsh but his eyes are gentle. It's a confusing dichotomy that has you careening from one emotion to the next. You settle on anger when you feel Jennifer and Luke watching you. Your cheeks burn with humiliation at being talked to like this in front of them and you shoot a glare at Joel before you wrench your wrist his grip.

“Let’s break for lunch,” Jennifer suggests, noting the tension.

“Good idea,” Luke says with a smile.

Everyone waits for Joel’s eventual nod before the four of you head downstairs to the log room.

There are thankfully enough chairs because you can’t imagine the awkwardness of standing around eating after everything that happened. Right now you want to sink into your chair and disappear for a few hours.

What the fuck is Joel’s problem?

Jennifer thankfully starts chatting to fill the silence and pulls out the meals from her bag. Two sandwiches each, a thermos of coffee and what appears to be fresh brownies along with the usual water and apples.

Joel goes off for a moment, muttering about feeding the horses. The three of you take a seat around the table, focused on the sweet-smelling brownies.

“Those look so good,” Luke says when Jennifer pulls them out. “I love baked goods.”

“You should try her stuff,” Jennifer says motioning to you with a wink. “Everyone in town says how good her baking is.”

You could kiss Jennifer for the way she’s trying to make you look good in front of Luke. You make a mental note to do the same for her and Joel. Jennifer has many good redeeming qualities and Joel just simply doesn’t see them.

“S’not that good,” you say with a shy little giggle as you bite into your sandwich.

“It is so!” Jennifer insists, unwrapping her own.

“Guess I’ll have to see for myself,” Luke says grinning and taking a sip of his coffee. You don’t say anything but you shift slightly when Joel comes to take the empty seat next to you. He reaches across you to grab one of the sandwiches, peeling back the waxy cloth that holds it.

The room goes quiet again, a side effect of Joel-Miller-iti; because whenever he enters a room it goes deadly quiet. You wonder if he was like this before – was he always so gruff? So grumpy? How could Tommy be so opposite to him?

You wish it was Tommy with the rest of you today. Tommy with his easy laugh and warm countenance. You expect the rest of lunch to go in silence when all of a sudden it’s Joel who breaks it.

"You're good at window repair, Jenny. You must’ve done a lot.”

Jennifer flushes prettily and thanks him in a voice that feels a lot more breathy than necessary.

For some reason this innocuous comment from Joel has your fingers curling into the wood table. Your leg starts to twitch as you rock your leg up and down restlessly on the ball of your foot.

You spent weeks trying to earn Joel’s praise as a patrol partner. You were dutiful and listened and tried your best and he gave you nothing back unless his cock was in your mouth. Jennifer has been working for thirty minutes and he gives her his praise so freely?

If he wasn't sitting beside you, you would be fixing him with your most glowering stare. You wish you weren’t so shy, so quiet. You’d give him a piece of your mind next week on patrols if you had the guts.

“I grew up doing repairs on our house with my brothers,” Jennifer answers and you know she’s beside herself with all this attention from Joel. He’s got his eyes fixed on her and his normally scowling face is brighter, his mouth in a polite smile.

“You had good teachers.”

“I taught them, actually,” she smiles brightly.

“Impressive.”

You continue to bop your leg, the feeling distracting you from your frustration. You hasten a glance at Luke who hasn’t so much as glanced up from his lunch since the meal started. He’s shy like you, quiet and introspective especially when Joel is around. You think that’s why you enjoy his company so much. You feel like you want him to feel included.

“You did construction too, right Luke?”

“Yep,” he nods, swallowing before taking one of the brownies and breaking it apart in his hands. “Cabinetry especially.

“Cool,” you offer awkwardly. You wish you knew more about the topic but your interest and acumen in that field is limited. Your knee continues to bop anxiously as you try to think of ways to get the conversation to continue.

“I was just learning flooring and trim carpentry when the outbreak started,” he continues as you nod along as if it’s the most fascinating thing in the world.

“Oh, wow.”

Jennifer keeps sneaking looks across the table at Joel and if your hunch is correct he’s probably doing the same to her. Despite your previous annoyance with him the thought warms you, that perhaps there is a mutual attraction for your friend and Joel. You wonder if you should warn her about Joel’s temper but decide that Joel may not show that side of himself to her if he can help it.

After what you’ve learned about Joel and Sarah, there is a softness inside you that maybe thinks Jennifer could be good for Joel. You resolve to do whatever you can to make it work for them. Joel isn’t your friend, but Jennifer is. And if she wants Joel you’ll do all you can to make it happen.

You almost yelp when Joel's hand grips your knee, holding your restless leg in place. He leans towards you, voice dropping a register and sliding into a soft rasp.

"Stop shakin' your damn leg. You’re knockin’ over the coffees."

You’re doing no such thing, but part of you thinks he misses ordering you around. He must like the sense of control it gives him. He misses being a big shot and you’re the closest thing he has to a professional underling. All your kind sentiments about him go flying out the window. You were naïve to think there could be a possible friendship there. Hell, not even a friendship – just a respectful mutual tolerance.

You feel an embarrassed flush cross your features, pulling back from Joel’s touch. His fingers slowly unlatch from your knee and his palm lingers a moment before being removed entirely.

“You do a lot of repairs before all this?” Jennifer asks Joel. You surprise yourself by listening, intrigued for more information on pre-outbreak Joel.

“Yep.”

He takes a long swig of his coffee before wiping at his mouth and speaking before Jennifer has the chance to ask more follow up personal questions.

“Alright, let’s finish it up. I’ll see you two up there.”

He doesn’t spare anyone a glance before he’s on his feet, heading up the stairs. Luke joins him moments later, leaving you and Jennifer sitting across from one another.

When she’s certain the men are upstairs she looks beside herself with delight and leans forward conspiratorially.

“Do you think Joel was flirting?” she whispers, her light eyes dancing. “I mean, Luke is way better at repairs but he didn’t say anything nice to him.”

“Definitely,” you reason, looking thoughtful. “He doesn’t really talk much normally, so I think that’s a good sign.”

“I’m gonna ride back with him,” Jennifer says hiding a giggle behind her hand.

“Go for it,” you say, unable to stop from smiling. You can’t help but enjoy her excitement.

“I wonder what he kisses like,” she muses, her eyes dreamy. You shrug your shoulders and she fixes you with that same sisterly look. “When’s the last time you had a really good make out?”

“Uh…” you trail off, your cheeks heating. “We can talk about it later. He’ll be pissed off if you don’t get up there soon. Don’t wanna blow your chances now.”

Jennifer gives you a grateful squeeze on the shoulder as she passes, calling up to Joel and Luke that she’s just grabbing some extra nails. You don’t hear their reply because you’ve dragged yourself to the window, your eyes scanning.

You hear them nailing upstairs, the muffled sound of their talking. As always you're on the edge, forever on the outside. You chew at the inside of your cheek in irritation, your eyes scanning the outside.

It's not long after that the three come back downstairs dressed for travel. Jennifer is pulling on her gloves and chatting with Luke about the rumors of heavy snow and Joel is carrying his bag with the tools over one shoulder. He fixes you with an expectant stare, brows raised.

"See anythin’?"

"Nope. Would've said something if I did."

Joel stares at you, unblinking and you're confused when you see a small curl of his lip in amusement.

"S'go."

The four of you trudge towards the waiting horses. Chestnut looks excited to see you and you grin as you approach. You press your forehead to his cheek, stroking down his flank as the rest of the group begins to pick a horse.

"I can ride with someone again," Jennifer offers and you watch with a touch of amusement as she subtly steps towards Joel who has just climbed atop Midnight.

"Nah, let's switch it up," Joel says gruffly. "That way s’fair for everyone."

Luke looks your way and you hold in a nervous grin. He’s going to make the same offer to you that he did to Jennifer because he’s a gentleman that way.

The thought has your stomach fluttering excitedly. You think of how your arms will wrap around his middle, how you’ll find an excuse to press your cheek to his shoulder blade. How your thighs will-

"Get on."

Your brows knit together in confusion as you gaze up to your right to see Joel on his horse, holding out a gloved hand in front of your face. His curls fall into his forehead as he tilts towards you, mouth in a firm line.

What the fuck is he doing? Why is he trying to fuck this up for you?

“S’go,” Joel tells you, shaking an impatient outstretched hand from atop of his horse. He looks like he’s irritated out of his mind as you make your decision.

"Oh, uh," you glance at the disappointment in Luke's face before turning back to Joel, trying to hide your irritation.

It makes sense after all; Luke already had to ride with Jennifer. But a part of you had been hoping to spend a bit of time with him on the horse. It's been a long while since a man intrigued you like Luke.

"We don't have all day," Joel snipes at your hesitation. "Let's go."

Jennifer strides forward, taking Chestnut’s bridle from you. You hand it over before looking back up at Joel who waits with one hand on his saddle horn, the other still at your eye level.

You clench your jaw and take his hand, hooking your foot into the footing of Midnight’s saddle and feeling the muscle of Joel’s arm as you grip his bicep and he pulls you astride the horses back behind him.

He shifts, giving you room to slide behind the saddle. You do so, holding in a sigh as you position yourself atop the strong animal. You feel Midnight's ribs under your legs, wider than Chestnut's. He's a pitch black mare with a coat that currently glistens. He's always been a rather imposing horse, hesitant around new people. Riding him is like being in a room alone with Joel – intimidating.

"Hold on," Joel instructs before clicking his tongue, encouraging Midnight to start walking. The horse jerks to a start, causing you to dig your legs into Midnight’s side. You’re lucky the horse doesn’t kick you off for it.

You look over your shoulder to see Jennifer on Chestnut a few paces back. You give her a look that shows how displeased you are to be with Joel, replete with an eye roll. She returns it with a weak smile before her focus is back on the trail. Luke is looking off into the surrounding area, his eyes scanning for threats as he sits straight-backed on Glimmer.

You turn back to face ahead of you, displeased.

At first you barely touch Joel, hands resting on your thighs as the four of you bob along the trail. No one is talking now. The air is filled with an unexpected tension that you can’t for the life of you understand.

Your front is pressed against Joel's back, squeezing gently to make sure you don't slide off. Midnight makes a jostling step off the path before righting himself. It sends you slipping back, your thighs digging into the horse’s side and your hands going to grab Joel lightly by his jacket.

"Unless you wanna fall off I suggest you hold tighter n'that." Joel bites off.

You know he’s correct. Sitting this awkwardly is only a burden on Midnight. Your arms snake around Joel’s waist and hold there below his sternum. His chest is broad, his arms muscled, his thighs strong. Everything about him is masculine and tough. All but the soft look of his dark brown curls threaded with grey which curl under his ears just slightly.

Despite everything you've experienced with Joel, actually physically touching him is surreal. You know the feel of his cock in your palm and on your tongue, the taste of his come. But now you can explore the rest of his body first with your eyes and then your hands.

Up this close to Joel you see the freckles on his golden skin and the way he holds himself stiffly straight in front of you. He’s so broad, his entire disposition that of protector. You can understand why Ellie feels safe with him.

You marvel at the smooth sensation of his jacket under your fingertips, the warmth of his body. This close to Joel you inhale the scent of leather and homemade lavender soap from Hannah's. You could almost laugh that you both use the same scent mostly because Joel Miller smelling like flowers is an amusing thought.

You pass through a different path on your way back as you always do and are irritated with the sight of the overturned trees. The roots are ugly, twisted things that poke out from the light dusting of snow.

“Shit,” Joel mutters to himself.

Midnight rears back sharply and in a panic your arms wrap more tightly around Joel’s waist, suddenly anxious. You're surprised when Joel's left hand goes to cover your grip knotted against his middle, holding you in place.

Joel grunts out a grumbled whoa boy before tugging Midnight’s reigns with his right hand to get him to obey. His hand is big, warming you despite the gloves you both wear.

"Careful," Joel calls over his shoulder to Jennifer and Luke. "Some big roots here."

The two of them call out that they've heard him. You twist to look over your shoulder and watch them navigate Chestnut and Glimmer over the uprooted tree. Luckily it doesn’t take long before the four of you are back on the path heading home with no more obstacles in the foreseeable future.

You glance behind you to see Jennifer looking miserable on Glimmer. She looks so disappointed and you want to slap Joel upside the head for missing how obviously into him she is. You think of earlier, when Joel observed her skills and an idea comes to you.

“Hey Jennifer?”

“Yeah?��

“I really like your jacket,” you fumble for a way to make this sound natural.

Jennifer shoots you a confused look, curious as to where you’re going with this. “Uh, thanks.”

“Did you get it from town?”

“I made it,” she tells you, the silent you already know that, reflected in her gaze.

“Wow, you’re so gifted. You made those amazing curtains in your place too, right?”

“I did.”

“You’re so good at making stuff,” you gush. “Especially clothes. You make men's clothes too, right Jennifer? Like jackets?"

"Uh yeah," she says slowly before her confusion fades, realizing what you're getting at. She smiles cheekily at you. "Yeah, I can make jackets, jeans, t-shirts, all that stuff."

“You’re so talented at it,” you gush. Luke is looking over your way and you feel the need to really drive it home. “I mean, with the holidays coming up I might just want to get a dress from you.”

You have never worn a dress in your life. Not unless your mother forced you into them as a child. But you need to sell this idea that Jennifer is a domestic goddess. You’ll leave out the part about her baking.

“I could make us matching ones,” she says with a wink. You hold in a giggle at the thought.

“I’d like to see that,” Luke offers shyly from behind Jennifer who shoots a delighted look in your direction complete with dramatically mouthed ‘he likes you!’. You flush at the attention, your lips pursing into a pleased grin.

You feel Joel's trunk stiffen in your arms and his hand drops from over yours. He replaces it on the reigns.

"Keep it down," Joel hisses over his shoulder at you and the others. "Unless you were hopin’ to guide Raiders our way?"

The two of them go quiet and you cringe internally. You don't know why but you suppose it's because Joel is your patrol partner. A reflection on you in some ways and he's coming off like a major asshole right now. Your arms loosen around his middle finding that the horse is now on smoother terrain.

You glance over at Jennifer about to give her a sympathetic look but she shoots you an exaggerated eyebrow waggle and mouths the words "still sexy" with a head tilt at Joel. You barely suppress a surprised giggle, irritating Joel further.

"What's so fuckin’ funny?"

"Nothing."

------------------------------------

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honeybubblegumpink · 7 months

Text

"𝙷𝚎𝚢 𝚔𝚒𝚍 ! " | Gojo satoru

Summary : reader was enjoying the festival with her bf but got dumped last minute they where supposed to meet. On the vergere of tears she is met with a rude kid .

Gojo : 12 years old reader: 16 years old

Note: pure fluff, slight cursing , not proof read

"Let's break up "

That was the last sentence you ex-boyfriend said before hanging up on you. You where waiting for him about an hour and a half for your boyfriend now ex-boyfriend.

" well this sucks..." You thought tears started to fall down you cheeks

" wow what a loser." A voice said , You turned your head to see a kid with snowy white hair and ocean like eyes,probably around 10 years old looking at you, eating a dango

" what the hell do you know kid! " you yelled at him pissed that he just called you a loser when you just got dumped

" probably more then you " he said while chewing

" like hell, you not even old enough to date ! " you said angrily

" And what's your problem anyway, kid! " you said hands on your hip glaring at him. He shrugged throwing the dango stick behind him and puts his hands in his pockets .

" this kid..." You sigh putting your hand on your forehead.

" I'm 12 years old I'm not a kid. My name is satoru. Gojo satoru " he introduced himself. Which you just look at him confused

" uhm this if the part where you introduced back , stupid "

" what makes you think I wanna introduced myself to a brat like you?" you said " and where are you parents anyway " looking around the crowded people. Maybe he's lost?

" they're always busy." He said looking down

" they are never around that much. To be honest I don't even think they're my parents as they are just strangers to me " he then looked up , you follow his gazes at a family of three .

" oh what should I be saddened by your story or something " you said crossing your arm while rolling your eyes.

" that's why your boyfriend dumped you , because loving you is like loving a block of ice . " gojo comment

" why you little shit " you grab his head and ruffled his hair( which was surprisingly fluffy) creating full of knots .

If you had to be honest it was a bit sad that he didn't get any attention from his parents. And he most be the only child since he didn't mention any siblings

" get your hands off of me " gojo complained which you just continue to do so to his dismay.

You eventually let him go which he just muttered " crazy bitch-"

" finished that sentence and you'll see what happens to you "

" no you can't " you yelled back at him

" why not " gojo pouted

" you already had two of them "you argue with the kid

" well it's not my fault they made it taste so good " he argued back

" no is no and that's final. "

" please, y/n? " he pleads with giving you the puppy eyes

" I said no."

You and the kid end up spending your time together at the festival. Since your ex boyfriend won't be showing shop and gojo parents doesn't have time .

" hey, let's try that one! " gojo pointed at the small stand selling some kind of sweets

" 5000 yen?! "You gasp looking at the big bowl of parfait

" you think I'm made of money or something and why do I have to pay for you, kid ?! "

" because I already spend all of mine earlier " he said nonchalantly

" well I'm not buying it."

You end up buying the expensive desert. when he started a tantrum making the people turn around while whisper and look at you.

You sigh and looked at the kid next to you " I hope your happy because I'm broke now . Thanks to you "

After gojo finish which was Surprisingly way to fast, the fire works started to play. You both watch as the night sky lit up .

You had fun today that the least you expected. Thanks to the kid next to you he took your mind off of your ex boyfriend .

" hey kid " you said softly

" uhm?"

" thanks."

" for what? " he said looking at you confused

" for today " you turn and looked at him smiling while ruffling his hair.

Which made gojo Satoru blush a little

" hey well meet again okay " gojo said all of the sudden . As you guys where about to part ways

" I don't know about that " you said to him

" don't worry we will because you know jujutsu " Your eyes widden in shocked. How does he know? You hid your curse energy from all jujutsu users.

" because I really enjoy spending my time with you too and not alone...." He blush with a pout hating to admit it. Which made your heart warm up a little

" sorry kid but the jujutsu world isn't for me " you bend down, down his level .

" why " gojo frowned

" uhm well I'm kinda really weak " you said in embarrassment, scratch the back of your head

" I'm practically below a 4th grader which I never through was possible . And my curse technique are basically useless. I'll basically die if I was send out for a mission "

" your technique isn't useless if you see it in another light. You think it's useless because none has the same ability as you and because you don't know how to use it " gojo said pocking your forehead

" making origami and making come to live is definitely useless "

" well I'm the strongest. I can protect you " gojo said seriously which made you laugh a little.

" you seriously think so? "

" I'm GOJO satoru. "

Right.. That why the name sounded familiar. He's one of the GOJO clans. The top three most powerful clans of the jujutsu world.

" I possessed the ability of the six eyes and limitless so I can protect you."

" that's very nice of you..kid" you patted his head as he blushes

" so you well west again?" GOJO said with hope in his eyes

" lets let fate decide if we'll meet again okay?"

" well if fate doesn't allow us to meet. I'll find you " gojo said his heart beating a bit to fast for his like. You where a bit dumbfounded by his confession but smile anyway " okay"

[16 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛 ]

you heard the door open . You turned around to greet the customer but was met by 6ft tall man with a blindfold, is he blind? You though but he doesn't have a cane.He looks around but stop when he noticed you.

" hello , sir how can I help you? "

" found you. "

" uh...?" You where confused of what he just said. Found me? Since when are we playing hide and seek?

" you don't remember me huh? "

" sorry you most have gotten the wrong person "

" ouch. You wounded me" he said dramatic

" sorry but I've never met you before-" the guy took his blindfold off , revealing his ocean blue eyes . Just like that kid you met years ago . Then it hits you he was that kid !

" no way..."

" I told you I'll find you if fate doesn't was us to meet "

#jujutsu kaisen #gojo fluff #gojo satoru #gojou satoru x you #gojo x reader #jjk gojo #jujutsu gojo #gojo saturo #jujutsu kaisen satoru #satoru x y/n #gojou satoru x reader #jujutsu satoru #jjk satoru

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illubean · 4 months

Note

Hi hellooo <3 I love your blog and since I have a thing for this bug-eyed boi, I wanted to ask you to please write a headcanon or a small one-shot (whatever you are comfortable) about teenage!illumi SOMEHOWWWWW having a secret friendship and he meets reader in the forest etc :)

Assassins Don't Have Friends

Characters: Teenager!Illumi Zoldyck Type: Fluff, oneshot, Teenager!Gn!reader

this turned out kinda long >.< idk how to feel about it tbh

Warnings: mention of human trafficking kind of?

Illumi Zoldyck was a perfect assassin and a perfect son. He never showed fear, vulnerability, was excellent at his job and followed all the rules to a t. Or so everyone thought.

It wasn't long ago that Illumi had went on the job that would unknowingly change his life, maybe about three months give or take. He was assigned to take out a member of the mafia known for trading illegal goods. Apparently he had owed the man who hired Illumi money and had no means of paying it. He was to dispose of the target swiftly and silently.

After the job had been done the young Zoldyck somehow failed to notice the figure in the corner, who had been watching him with surprised and tired eyes. Upon realizing he was not alone, the boy was quick to pin the figure down, ready to take their life at any given moment. Now that he was up close to this person, he realized it was another kid around his age, wearing tattered and dirty clothes. The part that intrigued him most is that they didn't seem afraid of him.

The mysterious person only smiled at him, eyes softening with admiration as they spoke.

"Thank you for saving me."

The young assassin stared blankly in confusion. Saving them? All he did was his job and you just happened to be there, he didn't really try benefiting you on purpose. Illumi lowered the needle he had pointed at the persons neck, eyes narrowing before he responded.

"What are you talking about?"

"That man you killed. I was just auctioned off to him and needless to say he was a horrible man, so thank you. I'm Y/n by the way."

Illumi got off of Y/n, turning around to leave before speaking up once more.

"I didn't kill him for you, I was doing my job. I should kill you too for being a witness, but I'll let you go this once."

The Zoldyck boy began to embark on his journey back home before he heard footsteps running to catch up to him.

"I never caught your name? Who are you anyway?"

He continued to walk, not once turning to face Y/n.

"Quit following me."

"But I have nowhere to go-"

"I don't care where you go, just get away from me."

It was silent for a few moments as the teens continued to walk. Y/n ignored Illumi's demands as they neared a path that stretched through a vast forest. At the end of the trail there was a large mountain. Illumi knows he shouldn't have led this stranger so close to his home, but something inside him wouldn't let him push them away.

"You still haven't told me your name. Are you like a secret spy or something? Geez we've been walking for so long- don't tell me we have to walk all the way up that mountain!"

The young assassin stopped when they got to the base of the mountain, causing Y/n to run into his back with a small 'oof'.

In front of them was a large stone wall with metal doors in the center.

"This is as far as I can allow you to get. I shouldn't have let you follow me for so long but frankly you don't pose any threat."

"Aww, I think you just let me follow you so far because you like me! Noowwww can I finally know the name of my new friend?"

Y/n smiled at the stoic male in front of them, blinking and awaiting a response.

"Assassins don't have friends, now leave."

Illumi approached the seven large doors of his home and began to push them open before pausing.

"It's Illumi."

He entered through those doors while Y/n stood confused for a few moments before realizing.

That was his name.

While the doors were closing he heard a voice yell from the opposite side.

"Okay Mr assassin! I'll come back here here every day to see you!"

{Pov switch? kinda?}

And that's exactly what you did. Every day for about a week you showed up at the foot of the mountain, sometimes convincing Zebro to call the butlers quarters.

After Illumi found out about this, he finally went down to meet them. This time you looked much cleaner, holding a small basket with a cloth over it.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"I told you I would visit every day, didn't I? Oh, and this is for you. I managed to make a little money by fighting so consider this as a "thank you'. Y'know, for killing that guy?"

You held out the basket, gesturing for the boy in front of you to take it. He lifted the cloth to reveal some baked goods underneath. Illumi sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"You can't keep trying to call the house. I told you assassins don't have friends."

"Welllll can't you make an acception for little ole me?" you asked, batting your eyelashes at him. "It could be our little secret!"

Without a word, Illumi grabbed one of your wrists and began walking into the forest surrounding his home. He stopped as the both of you came to a clearing, sitting down against the trunk of a tree.

"You're annoyingly stubborn."

You only smiled before sitting down next to him, reaching into your basket and pulling out two custard buns.

"Well it seems to work," you started, offering him one of the buns. "We're friends now, after all."

Illymi accepted the sweet treat with a sigh and ended up sitting there with you for hours. At some point you had both agreed to meet there once a week.

After these visits Illumi began developing a soft spot for you. He anticipated the days you would show up and the time you got to spend together.

Maybe he wasn't a perfect son.

He had secretly been seeing you without his family knowing and you were beginning to break down those walls of his.

Maybe he wasn't the perfect assassin.

Because after all, assassins don't have friends.

#hxh 2011 #hxh x reader #hunter x hunter #hxh #hxh illumi #illumi zoldyck #illumi x reader #illumi hxh #illumi x you #illumi x y/n #illumi zoldyck x reader #illumi

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nerdofspades · 1 year

Text

Danny is on the run (reveal gone wrong, Vlad went too far, or GIW gaining brain cells, take your pick) and he makes his way to Gotham, the only place he can reasonably hide.

He's injured, scared, and cut off from all his resources, so he's been squating in a rundown half abandoned apartment somewhere, waiting to be healed enough to start trying to figure out something more sustainable.

And it just so happens that this place is where Jason sets up his first safe house when he returns to Gotham to become Red Hood, kill the Joker, and beat Bruce over the head with his failures.

Obviously, because Danny was squating, no one was really able to warn either of them about the other.

So Jason literally walks into the apartment with bags of essentials (including many guns) and basic furniture on the way and the first thing he sees is a half feral teenager in filthy ragged clothes, bundled in thread bare (and just as dirty) blankets just. In the corner.

Now, dirty or not, the kid is obvious Wayne bait. (Sure Bruce had only taken in three at this point, but three is a patern.) And Jason might be pit mad, but he is not kicking out a starving kid that looks like he's waiting for Jason to literally kick him. Not when he knows what it's like on the streets. Not when he knows this kid could wind up in the manor.

So he just. Moves in around him. And makes sure there's enough food for both of them that night. And the next.

He isn't adopting the kid. Definitely not. He's got revenge plans to deal with but... he's not heartless either. Kid can come and go as he pleases, but if he can provide a safe place for him to sleep and some warm food he doesn't have to steal, then he's going to.

On Danny's end. He knows there's something sketchy about this guy. He smells like shit, and he got this crappy apartment, but he also clearly has money? All the furniture is pretty clean and new (though it's all generic and nothing fancy). And of course. All the guns. Hard to ignore that part.

Danny really shouldn't stay anywhere near him. Not safe. (Not for either of them if who ever he's running from catches up and this guy shows up on their radar.)

Hell. This guy should know better than to let a total stranger hang out when he's planning something that requires that many guns.

But all he does is tell Danny he can stay and to not touch the guns.

And then he feeds Danny.

And gives him a spare key.

Neither of them speak to each other for weeks.

Danny is well enough to move. But he doesn't want to.

So he doesn't.

He comes and he goes. But he doesn't leave.

(It's a bad idea. He should leave. But. Maybe there's safety in numbers.)

And then things start shaking up. Black Mask's lieutenant are dead. Someone is starting a gang war.

But no one can figure out who's leading it. No one knows what gang.

Danny sees his... live in acquaintance come back to the apartment injured.

He sees more guns and more ammunition.

He knows it's not a gang.

Not yet.

They still don't talk.

Not until Red Hood comes in through the window one night, and Danny grabs the first aid kit and patches him up without asking any questions.

He makes the first step and tells Hood his name. Only his first name. His last isn't useful anymore.

And they talk.

They share some stories.

Edited. Half true stories.

And they talk through some stupid shit.

But eventually. They stop hiding behind half truths too. It only takes so many times covering each other for the full story to spill.

In for a penny and all that.

Jason convinces Danny he should finish his schooling.

Danny convinces Jason that maybe the new Robin isn't a part of his problems.

Jason doesn't drop his plans for revenge. Or stop blaming Bruce.

Danny refuses to go to a public school, but allows for online schooling.

Jason gets Danny a new name. A new identity. He needs one for school.

Maybe he did adopt the kid after all.

Jason really hopes Bruce never finds out.

Of course Bruce finds out.

#dp x dc #danny phantom #dc comics #jason todd #red hood

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wing-ed-thing · 9 months

Text

Konoha 12 Domestic/Spousal Headcanons

Tags/Warnings: No Reader Pronouns, Boruto Doesn't Exist, No Mentions of Children/Adoption

Completed versions of these headcanons will be linked on the character's name.

𓆃 Choji

THE BEST COOK ON THIS LIST NO ONE CAN COMPARE

Loves bonding over cooking and baking— whatever you like! If there's anything you're ever craving, Choji is taking to the kitchen to make you a gourmet meal as good as any professional chef!

Prime rib, lamb, tartare, croissants, macarons, soups! It doesn't matter your allergies or preferences, Choji can and will make you any food your heart desires.

Offers excellent cuddles. 11/10 squishy and soft.

Is very understanding, a fantastic listener, and naturally positive.

Never lets the romance l die, and after a hard day at work, will feed you ice cream while you rant about your day.

𓆃 Hinata

Traditional wife who has always wanted to be a traditional wife since she was a kid.

Content with cooking, doing laundry, and other domestic work.

Although, because of the society and the way she was brought up, she might feel insecure transitioning out of shinobi life.

While being made to feel weak isn't something Hinata is a stranger to, she is sensitive to comments from others about her domestic life.

Be sure to give her lot of reassurance and validate her work around the house.

𓆃 Ino

Also wanted to be a wife growing up, but the stay-at-home life is clearly not for her.

She'll try it for a period of time after your wedding or union, but she's far too restless for cooking and cleaning.

You supposed that she thought it would be relaxing and aesthetic, but if anything, she's getting frustrated and throwing the potato across the kitchen as soon as it slips out of her hand.

Ino will eventually find important work to do, come home to complain about it over dinner, and buy you something nice in a half-brag about how much more money she's making.

This is, of course, not to say she's bad at housework or doesn't do her share. She's perfectly good at domestic work and does the bulk of it, but the moment you expect it from her is the moment she stops.

𓆃 Kiba

A slob who, if allowed, will live in heaps of trash.

For the bulk of his 20s, he'll be super unsure of the whole settling down thing. You could make a whole bingo chart out of the cliche bachelor lines he spouts.

I'm not really a marriage kinda guy. I don't wanna tie myself down to a ball and chain. I just wanna meet people. I'm looking for someone who doesn't take themselves too seriously. Nah, I'm not looking for a relationship.

That is... until one day he wakes up and desperately wants a family of his own. To an extreme extent. Like his expectations are absolutely insane.

As a husband, you'll need to reevaluate those and have a nice long chat because at the beginning of your relationship he will certainly not be pulling his weight.

𓆃 Lee

Sweet, clingy, loving and sincere man.

Ah, you are the sun, the moon, and the world to Lee. He is constantly thinking of or doing the sweetest possible thing he possibly could for you at any given hour of the day.

Is his execution great? You'd give it a 50/50. Does he ever take a break? NO.

Whether it's breakfast in bed or going on a grocery run to get it off your plate, you're sure to have to put out one fire and learn how to use 20 carrots in your meal prep for the week.

He really tries his best, he just gets a little excited.

𓆃 Naruto

Another slob, although well intended.

Naruto never had a formal family growing up, and so he has little ideas of what's expected.

Much of his idea of what a partnership should be comes from media or stupid things that Shikamaru probably told him on the playground growing up, so you'll have to work together as a team to set expectations.

A lot of what he does for you is in his language (you have to learn that him making you both ramen cups is indeed a romantic gesture for him), but he loves exploring things that you like!

Naruto explores your likes and hobbies in a very genuine and non-performative way. Sharing things you enjoy together will be the foundation of your relationship.

𓆃 Neji

You'll spend your first year of marriage focused heavily on strict boundaries, expectations, and other couples work.

The way Neji was brought up completely fractured his sense of family. Not to mention, no matter what you're like Neji will certainly have to fight with his family in a silent battle over clan politics.

Because even though the Hyuga clan has stopped certain practices, doesn't mean that everyone in the clan is in mutual agreement or share similar attitudes with each other.

This will be a marriage built on structure and meaningful confrontation. Neji is determined to break the cycles of his family to make a healthy life with you.

𓆃 Sakura

Wasn't sure if she'd end up with a partner. She really wanted it, but with everything that happened in her life, she had her doubts.

Most definitely too hard on herself. Sakura pushes herself to almost fall over you to ensure you're pleased. Whether it's housework or cooking, there's a part of her that feels the need to prove her work ethic.

It's the small things with Sakura. Even after a long day at work, she'll still bring you your favorite home for dinner, even if the place is out of the way. She'll stay up an hour later to spend time with you even if she has an early morning.

𓆃 Sasuke

An ironic mix between Naruto and Sakura.

As a kid, Sasuke 100% wanted to be a husband when he grew up. 100% wanted to have a spouse to provide for and had similar dreams that some kids often do when they think about families.

But after the Uchiha Tragedy, much of Sasuke's outlook about his future has been skewed. Any relationship will start off as rather unstable and you can almost count on Sasuke being emotionally distant

It's about how the two of you work through his baggage and his willingness to be vulnerable.

𓆃 Shikamaru

Surprisingly well-adjusted?

He knows how to do basic life skills. Pulls his weight and sometimes even does your tasks. Shikamaru is generally clean and organized.

Where's the problem? He's terrified of commitment.

Most of the relationships in the Nara clan seem to consist of passive Nara men with verbose spouses who have no issue bossing their partners around.

But at the same time, Shikamaru doesn't mind this dynamic. He wants to laze, but he's also almost seemingly afraid of dynamics that allow him to laze.

He'll be just fine around the house, just a bit dramatic if you ever ask him to do anything. He'll get over it.

𓆃 Shino

Great husband and great family to marry into.

Just overall very balanced, if not quiet. The Aburame clan is close, but respectful of each other. You'll never have to deal with nagging in-laws because Shibi has already taken you in as one of his own.

Enjoy fresh meals of produce expertly tended to from the garden.

While Shino has his more talkative side when it comes to people he's close to, he's still quiet by nature. Don't expect that to change just because you've gotten married.

The obvious con is the massive amount of insects that will constantly be around you. You're not allowed to trap them or kill them.

You will have to get used to bugs crawling on you.

𓆃 Tenten

You're always doing something crazy.

You don't think any of the other Konoha 12 ever expected that Tenten would have the most exciting marriage, but look at her now.

You're always innovating, making new things for her business, and taking spontaneous trips to check out crafting techniques.

Anything and everything you set your mind to, you support each other in. There are ten million projects scattered around your home.

You roll up to get-togethers (when they seldom happen), being the most traveled and bringing the most unique gifts.

No one knows what you're going to be up to next.

Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed, and supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

Notes: I apparently had a lot more opinions on all of these characters than I expected. When I make multi-character posts, I like to keep each section sort of short, so if you are interested in more in-depth hcs, tap the underlined name or visit my blog for more.

Sakura, Lee, Choji, Tenten and Sasuke are done at the current moment.

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atarathegreat · 15 days

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BAKUGO NOW

Did you say: fantasy AU Bakugo smutt?

Dragon Prince Bakugo.

Bakugo wasn't opposed to an arranged marriage, per se. His mother and father were done with their exploring, and his mother was done berserking. Bakugo himself still hunted, but his mother and father were done with what they called 'young people activities'.

Besides, a marriage meant a celebration, and a celebration meant that everyone got to go wild. Drinking, sparring, dancing! It would all be so much fun for him and the others. It was like Bakugo could already smell the ale and feel the punches that he would be earning. It excited him to no end. Whoever was going to be his wife, as lucky as she was, would have to manage with him being as rowdy as he pleased. Maybe he would get lucky, too, and she would be a barbarian like him, just as rowdy.

"Bakugo, are you really going to wear that nasty pelt?" His mother, Mistuski, stood in the arch to his chambers, soon to be shared with a stranger, "You wear that dirty thing to go hunting and fishing and you want to wear it for a wedding celebration?"

Bakugo turned and glared at his mother, all while taking heavy steps toward the pile of clothes and pelts in the corner, "You want me to wear these overly fancy rags? Do I look like someone who wears green? I'm likely to be mistaken for a boar or a nightwalker!" He was wrong, of course, as he usually was, but his mother understood his anger. Her son didn't like fancy items or flashy jewelry. But his hunting pelt? Surely he had better sense than that. "Don't you want to make a dazzling first impression on your future wife?" Mitsuki smiled, holding up a nicer, cleaner pelt.

"I don't rightfully care. Our marriage is political at best, and a mothers move to get me married at worst." Bakugo plopped onto his bed.

Mitsuki was shocked. Not that he was wrong, her son was intelligent, but that he had openly said it without knowing what was leaving his lips. Sure, political was the best way to call it, bringing barbarians and the clerics together in, at least, a shaky alliance. But it would also be a lie to say that her and her husband hadn't also planned it so that her son would have a wife sooner, maybe even kids if he felt like being the bare minimum for a husband. Mitsuki sighed and sat next to her son, her awfully thick-headed son, "Can you just do as I ask you? Just this once, let this go smoothly?" She hated to beg her son to be clean, but she knew that there was a soft spot somewhere in him.

"If I do, will you get off my back about it?"

"I might."

To relent and let his mother have her way would bite him in the ass later, but he got up and switched the pelt out, securing a lighter wolf pelt at his hips, "Happy now?"

"Okay! Be ready by midday and don't get covered in blood, this needs to be a good impression for the girl and her family." Mitsuki clapped as she left, feeling triumphant.

Come midday, her victory was null. The poor girl's family had sent her alone. From Ethel to Kazar, the young lady had traveled in the back of a wagon with nothing but a simple dress. No jewels, no colors, not even a smile. Mitsuki watched as the girl stepped from her wagon, simple flat shoes hidden under the long fabric of her skirts. She was supposed to be a noble, but she looked like a little peasant child who begs for money.

"I thought clerics wore robes and traveled together?" Her husband, Masaru, watched the girl with pity, "She looks sad."

Her soft flat shoes were dirty and torn, like the bottom of her dress, and the rest of her was...grey. Her and her aura were dull and grey and defeated. As if she had nothing left.

"So much for that alliance, huh?" Bakugo scoffed, returning inside the castle to avoid the silent creature that would be his bride. She wasn't interesting enough to keep him around for anything, and he wouldn't subject himself to the nap she would give him. His mother, on the other hand, refused to let this be the ending or a fail. Mitsuki smiled and took the girls hands in her own, "Hello, sweetheart. How was your trip?"

"Long, Your Highness." The girl even sounded like a field mouse, how adorable, "Long and silent."

If anyone had paid attention for a fraction of a second, they would have seen that the wagon rode off as soon as her foot touched the ground. Sad. But Mitsuki was happy that the girl was in Kazar now, at least she would grow to have some semblance of a family that would travel with her. Mitsuki nodded, "Call me Mitsuki. What is your name, hun?"

"Y/n." She responded well enough, albeit timidly. Masaru suspected that Y/n was raised in one of the many families that viewed the woman as caretakers and mothers. A devastating fate when women were as strong as the men if given the chance to build muscle. There was no doubt that Bakugo would be upset by this girl not being strong or loud. "Where is your family?" He was curious, who was this girl and why was she alone?

"They sent me alone. Said that the alliance meant little to them so long as I was out of their sight." Y/n spoke without confidence, but as if she believed every word she said, "They wanted to thank you for taking this burden off their hands."

That struck Masaru in a visceral way. Her own family saw her as a burden? How awful. She was anything but, and she was cute, clearly had nice genes for a cleric.

"I wish to apologize. I... I know little. I cannot read or write; I hardly understand my own ways. I'm useless and lack the ability to bring anyone joy." It was so awful to hear the things she said about herself. Y/n was pretty, Mitsuki could already see the beautiful grandchildren she would gain from this girl and her son. Good genes and good genes bred better genes, in her mind. "But I am willing to learn, if there is anyone with the patience to deal with my stupidity. I can clean, but I've never been praised for the work." She was so upfront about what she thought was things they would turn her away for.

And this behavior persisted into the celebrations. Y/n isolating herself in the corners, in the shadows, avoiding the others who wished to get to know her and welcome her to the clan and village. It was upsetting.

Bakugo found her after a hefty search (a search of ten minutes where he wasn't actually looking but happened to glance at her a few times before finally approaching). "What's wrong? Do you not realize how grateful you should be for this?" Bakugo came on strong, he was aware of that, but who hid during their own wedding celebrations? She seemed to be brushing it all aside and acting as if this was what she deserved. "Apologies. I'm not supposed to interact with anyone." Y/n was a mumbling mess, never speaking louder than she thought she needed to. It pissed Bakugo off to no end. "Whatever. If you don't want to be down here, then go to bed. You'll bring the mood down." He returned to the sparring corner of the big room, joining in with the fights.

Y/n, with a lot of difficulty, managed to find the bedchambers where she would be sleeping. It was Bakugo's room, of course, she knew that, but now she would also occupy the space. It was a messy space, a man's space. How was she supposed to feel at home in this strange place, with strange people, and an even stranger lifestyle? She was used to the women being small, quiet, never drawing attention to themselves. The women here in Kazar, they didn't seem to care about the consequences of having the attention. Aside from that, the women were muscley and brawn. They even knew how to read.

She crawled into the windowsill and looked up at the stars. For a brief moment she foolishly thought about whether her family was missing her. It was a dumb thought, one she wiped away quickly.

Meanwhile, Bakugo was sparring and drinking, thoughts of his new bond gone as he drowned his liver in ale and whatever foods had been made. His concerns were with winning the matches he was in. Zero thoughts of the girl up in his window. When he did finally stumble his way up to his chambers, Y/n was there immediately. Her gentle hands held cold cloths to his alcohol warmed cheeks. "What the hell are you doing to me, woman?" Bakugo grabbed her wrists to keep her hands on his face. The way she stared at him, wide eyes that reminded him of a frightened doe staring at a hunter as she waited for him to make a move.

"You're too damn quiet." Bakugo moved his face closer to hers, wanting to see what type of reaction he could pull out of her. Y/n seemed like a stoic girl and Bakugo wanted to see her lose her temper, to see her make any face except that doe eyed stare. So, he kept moving closer, until his lips touched hers and he'd never felt something so soft. He would blame the ale later.

Her body was rigid, yet loose, as Bakugo held her cheeks to keep her from moving away from him. Her tongue tasted of fruits, wild berries and water from a stream. It was addicting for the man, even if he was just some drunken barbarian at the moment.

Something about her softness was drawing him in. The way she moved how he wanted her to and the careful way she touched him, like he was as fragile as she was. It was different, in a good way.

"You have a choice in this." He mumbled, unable to make himself pull his lips away from hers, "Just because I am your husband does not mean you have to do everything I wish."

And she still didn't reject him or his advances. It was almost like she leaned into them, put more pressure in her gentle touches and soft caresses. The pelt around his hips hit the wall before the floor as he tossed it, not really giving a damn about where it went as long as it was off of him. "You're cute, I'll give you that." Bakugo mumbled as he walked her backwards towards the bed, bunching the skirts of her dress in his hands, "I wonder if the rest of you is as soft as your hands..."

"I'm not worth your physical affections." Y/n fell back easily onto the bed, never pushing Bakugo away. A loud laugh exploded in his chest at her words, "You're worth it if I find you worth it. You clearly aren't smart enough to gauge that."

Soft was an understatement. Plush and soft, Bakugo couldn't keep himself from squeezing every inch of her skin. "Soft as a hawk sprite chick. You ever felt one of them?" Bakugo nuzzled against her collar bone, "I'll catch one on my next hunting trip so you can."

This girl, this woman that Bakugo has been married to, what type of life had she led? Why was she so subservient to him? She didn't even fight him as he undressed her. He was a stranger to her, and she just... let him do as he pleased. Would she even make noise if he didn't ask her to?

Bakugo bit at her neck, smiling to himself at the involuntary gasp that he had pulled from her. He had caused a sound, though it was soft, to leave her without asking. "You're softer than the women here, you know that? It's nice, but I want you to talk more. Fuck, scream at anything if you want." Bakugo shuffled his pants down his legs and laughed at the way she avoided eye contact. It was apparent that she would be someone he'd have to have a small amount of control over, but that was the fun with some of these things. Bakugo leaned over her and grabbed her chin, "I want to see these pretty eyes on me."

Without a second of warning or even courtesy of being careful, Bakugo snatched her to the edge of the bed and snuggled his cock deep within her hold. She was soft, and it felt like she was trying to pull him deeper. "There you go, just keep squeezing." Bakugo pulled back a little to look at the connection he had forged, "Stretched fuckin' wide, you know that?"

She was cute when she whimpered, her unscathed hands gripping at Bakugo's rougher skin was nearly driving him absolutely crazy. This stranger, this quiet woman that Bakugo was so, so sure he would hate, had managed to make herself the center of Bakugo's, albeit drunken, world. There was nothing to stop him from leaving his teeth marks across her skin, and she looked a lot better with his markings. He had to think for a moment about how wonderful it would be to see her running to him after a hunting trip, how excited she would be to see him return was something he was hoping to see one day.

The pleasure was getting him too lost in his mind, making him think that maybe being married wasn't so bad, that maybe it wasn't just a political marriage. He didn't even see that he was hurting her, but she didn't sound like she was in pain. Blood started to stain the pelt blanket below her, causing a slight bit of concern. "Are you okay?" He didn't stop, she was too comfortable, but he also wouldn't make the mistake of thinking her body was as tough as a barbarian womans. "Stings a little, but it's okay~" Every word sounded like it was laced with euphoria. Maybe she had never felt such a thing, never had sex. Perhaps her body was as strong as a barbarian womans, she just hadn't ever used it.

"Hold on to me if you need to, I'll take care of you." Bakugo mumbled, putting more of his teeth marks across her neck.

#anime #manga #boku no hero academia #bnha #mha #my hero academia #mha fantasy au #bakugou katsuki #bakugo x reader

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eluxcastar · 1 year

Text

Fatui Harbingers with a child they don't own

── ୨୧：fatui harbingers & reader

୨୧﹑synopsis :: a child that doesn't seem to belong to any one of them is known to wander around headquarters, though it's not exactly clear whose it is or how it even got there. well, it's cute enough, isn't it?

୨୧﹑genre :: fluff

୨୧﹑content :: gn reader, child reader, child endangerment 💀, scaramouche is soft because baby, pantalone is trying to teach a kid stocks, pulcinella is such a grandpa

୨୧﹑words :: 2k

this was a little thought that came to mind, mostly because of the fact I was like "Capitano forced to carry around some lil baby would be cute" and I'm fuckin speed running writing this before sports tryouts I've got less than one hour 😭

nvm I didn't finish in time and it got cancelled anyway so we can work slowly now (I didn't even finish this until the next day anyway LMAO) the mild implication each of them handles the same child on different days and this kid is just experiencing all of these things is funny to me for no reason

you have a horrible habit of wandering off while waiting for your parent, somehow managing to find yourself in the stranger possible places. how you end up there, nobody who has to look for you ever really knows, but you usually end up finding at least one person who will—if nothing else—tolerate you.

the youngest of the Harbingers is the easiest to survive and get along with. Childe likes you, and knows how to keep you entertained while he somewhat awkwardly waits to see if anyone will arrive to look for you. admittedly, he likes it whenever you pop up, finding you a good little distraction, and you think his bow is cool to watch when he uses it. you think it's just the fact that he's so good with it that makes it so interesting, and he's very supportive when you tell him all of the stuff you don't get to tell anyone. it's not that Childe is constantly waiting to feed his interest nor does he always care a lot but he certainly makes it sounds like he does and it sounds very much like he's proud of you for even your minor achievements. are you hungry? he can get you food if you need and makes sure you're shockingly well taken care of and there's not a scratch on you when you leave. he even has you calling him big bro at some point though where that came from nobody is really sure.

on a very different note, Arlecchino is at first very confused by you, then quite soft. she does not coddle you, but she is never particularly aggressive towards you, initially believing that you were looking specifically for her for some reason. after all, what else would make a small child pull at her overcoat? she does begin to wonder where you came from, and was very impressive to you, though she warns you not to grab at her clothes too much. by her own words "Something might bite you" thought that really refers to whatever weapon she keeps, referring to it in a way a child would easily understand. she lets you sit with her while you wait, but warns you once more this time not to wander, sometimes letting you take her hand and guide her to pat your head and play with your hair.

admittedly, you are not what one might call the the most popular with the banker, though he gives you little trinkets and more frequently gives you mora to look at. he gifts you loose mora so much that you run off to him when there's something you want but can't afford, and of course he notices though you think you're so slick. Pantalone starts to give you more money, as long as you keep showing up, looking and learning all the things he wants to show you. he wouldn't indulge your greed so much if it didn't give him what was an opportunity. he finds fostering your curiosity is much easier than squandering it and when you want to see the many things you simply cannot afford while living on the salary of a lowly fatuu you've picked the best option for who to go to. someday you're going to need the knowledge he happily provides, and who better to learn from than the richest man in Teyvat? wait, what do you mean you barely understood a word of it?!

above all else you think La Signora is very beautiful, and really you just want to follow the pretty lady around even if she tries to pretend she doesn't notice you at first. your persistence got so annoying she was forced to turn around and try to figure out what you want, touching your face and observing your features to see if she recognises them. of course she doesn't. she has no idea who the hell you are, or where you came from or what you want. strangely there's this endearment to you, like she can't quite bring herself to get rid of you even if she's not over the moon about you insisting on holding her hand and going wherever she goes.

easily one of the most fun to bother is Sandrone, who may have been a little on the eager side to have someone who could act as a test user for at least a few of her automatons for her. if even a child could understand the instructions, surely grown adults would have no problem right? you make a great play tester, often finding several of them piled up just for you to play with. she knows you can't stop your wandering, you'll continue to come back to see her--her inadvertent bribery that she'll have cool toys to play with ready for you to seek her out. admittedly not all of your critiques make it in, mostly the ones that don't actually apply to their purpose as she has you believing they're just harmless toys with coincidental abilities. she is generally quite benevolent towards you however, always acting as if she really will accept them in a heartbeat. she always keeps you well taken care of too.

perhaps the most shocking reaction of all is Scaramouche who is…unexpectedly nice to you. for someone supposed to be bold and generally disliked, he sure is nice in letting you crawl all over him and ask your thousand questions. he fusses over you in that odd caring way, though never what you'd call particularly sweet about it. he buttons your coat for you when he doesn't want you to get cold and lets you hide under his hat from the snow. Scaramouche often sits you in his lap as he finds something to talk to you about whether it be school or home, all a ploy to keep you still perhaps, but if for some reason he doesn't enjoy your conversations-- well, you certainly don't notice. he does greatly enjoy it in fact, a little more than he cares to admit even to you.

talking at all to Pulcinella is like talking to your Grandfather as he comes to recognise you well, greeting you with a ruffle of your hair as he asks if you've gotten bigger. you haven't gotten bigger, and he's really not all that good at picking you up, but he certainly tries and you try to pretend your feet are more than an inch off the ground. perhaps manhandling simply isn't his strong suit. still you enjoy all the candy he has laying around, and the little gadgets you find around his office which haven't had a use in twenty years. a bit of interest to them doesn't exactly make them useful, and the things you really like are always the ones you can't touch like the little tin of rolled up papers secured with a rubber band and some suspicious stuff you can't discern, but he has many stories to tell of these things all to keep you distracted from the fact you got your hands on a tobacco tin and specifically cannot use it.

strangely the least opposed but most confused by you being around is Capitano, who cannot seem to simply scare you off at a glance and therefore has to wonder why you're here at all, where are your parents? you definitely don't work here. you must be cold, hungry? did you drink enough water today? he finds himself starkly confused as to why you just wander around him, can't seem to find an ounce of sense in you as you don't turn tail and run, and while he lets you sit on his lap when you get too tired he does not appreciate having to pull your hands away from his helmet all the time. maybe he should let you just to deter you after you almost get your hand bitten off. something about the way you still hug him tightly before you leave, or how you'll just dangle off your arm, even the way that you will appear in the most inconvenient situations and he'll just hook you under his arm and cart you off somewhere with him he knows is safe. of course you think this is the most fun you've ever had but on the other hand he really wishes you would show up at a time when he's not occupied.

to Columbina you are just the cutest little thing, drawn to the sound of her voice, though that is only what first leads you to find her by chance. she does not specifically take care of you so much as pamper you, playing with your hair and sitting you by her side to keep you company. you like to turn her hair and the ornaments in her hair, all which make you say she's like a pretty dove. she knows someone will come to find you, but in the meantime she is focused on settling you down to stop your wandering. she lets you cuddle up to her, lulling you to sleep with a pretty song that calms you down. you're much easier to watch that way. it keeps you from wandering, something she notices you must have a habit of considering you found her in the first place. it doesn't matter how full of energy you were when you walked in, always finding yourself curled up, head resting on her shoulder as you drift off to sleep rather quickly.

you are not exactly granted the warmest welcome by the Doctor, in fact you become terrified of Dottore the second he notices you've found your way inside and accidentally mistakes you for one of his test subjects. of course that makes you turning tail and running off seem quite suspicious, though you're also not very hard to catch. all of your squirming is expected, barely even stopping him very much at all. thankfully Dottore wasn't born yesterday, and the large stuffed animal you carry around and the clothes you wear are fairly indicative of the fact that you're probably not one of his subjects after all once he gets a better look at you. though it's hard to ease your shaking and wipe your tears when you're not eager to listen. he's not exactly the best with children either, though you do eventually come around once he figures out what to do, letting you cuddle up to him while he stroke your back to soothe you just in case you happen to be well liked by anyone he's not keen to annoy--rare chance but never impossible. you're not exactly eager to spend time loitering around there once he sets you back on your feet and watches you run off, but rare is not impossible.

how you even managed to find your way to Pierro is beyond even him, as the sudden opening of his door is usually met with a glare, though the sight of an empty space where a person would usually be prompts him to look down just to be sure. suffice it to say he's not exactly happy to have some little ankle biter running around headquarters, but he doesn't really have time to drop everything and scoop you up to march you back wherever you came from. you have to sit still and wait. Pierro should've foreseen you crawling around his feet to get under his desk and treating it like a hidey hole--being there in the first place should've indicated to some degree that you're not particularly into the idea of patience. his numerous attempts to catch you by your arm and hold you still don't work either, just resulting in you giggling and running off to some other corner where you get into something you shouldn't. he knows damn well all of his attempts are only encouraging you, and he's a glad to finally watch you give up, possibly just because you got bored-- but whatever the reason, watching you crawl back under his feet to fit between the little space in between him and his desk lets him breathe a sigh of relief and go back to working for a little white longer while you wait for him to go find whoever you belong to.

suffice it to say whoever was looking for you is sufficiently horrified by the time they find you, but that doesn't seem to be too unusual to you.

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raphael-angele · 3 months

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Big Three Kids Dynamics

Bianca: I'm home! Hazel: Hey sis. Nico: Hi, Bia Bianca: He-GAH! What is that? Hazel: It's a pentagram Bianca: Yeah, why?! Nico: You told us to satanize the cabin Bianca: I said SANITIZE cabin!!! --- Babysitting Baby Nico: *Nico turned into a baby* Nico: *has been crying for hours on end* Percy: There's gotta be something we can do to make it stop. Maybe he's hungry! Jason: Yeah! Let's uh...feed him a chili dog! Everyone loves chili dogs Percy: I don't think he can eat solid foods Jason: Well then put it in a blender Thalia, picking up Nico: Well, if you say so Nico: *cries even louder* Jason: THE CHILI DOG, NOT NICO! --- Playing Monopoly: Nico: I HATE YOU!!! Percy: Oh?! Well, next time, DON'T STEAL MY MONOPOLY! Jason: Nico, give Percy your $200, you landed on his property Nico: NO! HE'S IN JAIL! I'M NOT GONNA GIVE MONEY TO A CRIMINAL!! Percy: THAT'S NOT HOW YOU PLAY!!!! Nico: I WISH I WAS NEVER BORN! Jason: ME, TOO! YOU THINK I WANTED THIS?!?!?! --- Hazel: *pointing at Nico* Nico: She's touching me, she's touching me! Hazel: I'm not touching you! Nico: AAAAH! Touching me! Hazel, mockingly: Not touching Nico: Touching me! *growling* Hazel: It's free air Nico: *puts all of Hazel's hand in his mouth* Hazel: BIANCA! HE'S BITING AGAIN!!! --- After Jason and Thalia got into a fight: Hazel: Why don't you try being nice to Thalia? Why don't you tell her she's pretty? Jason, sassily: Have you seen her? --- Before meeting Jason: Jason: *knocks on the door* Nico: *opens the door* Jason: Uhm...hello. May I come in? Nico: No. And Bianca said I'm not supposed to talk to strangers. Jason: *chuckles* I'm Jason Grace, I'm Thalia's brother, I'm not strange *smile* Nico: That's a matter of opinion *slams the door on him*

#pjo #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson incorrect quotes #incorrect quotes #thalia grace #jason grace #nico di angelo #bianca di angelo #hazel levesque #meme

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btscontentenjoyer · 9 months

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BTS Summer Fic Recs

Here are some summer fanfic recommendations if you need something to read on the beach, by the pool, or just in your room while you're trying to escape the heat! If you enjoy any of these stories, please don't forget to let the author know by reblogging and leaving feedback. Most of these stories contain smut or other mature themes so MINORS DNI!

kim namjoon

solace by @m-yg93 (13.5k) fluff/smut

[roommates to lovers]

summary: Namjoon thought getting used to a new roommate would take time and adaptation but you fit yourself into his apartment with ease. He swears he only landed in your bed to keep you safe in his arms when you get spooked by the storm. Surely he can blame the eventual lack of clothing on the summer’s heat stroke.

kim seokjin

all you’re giving me is friction by @hot-soop (28.3k) angst/smut/fluff

[surfer!seokjin x lifeguard!f.reader, lovers to enemies (lite) to lovers]

summary: You’ve graduated! Congratulations - you’ve got one thing checked off your parents ten year plan! Now all that’s left to do is start your dreary office job, drag yourself up the ladder to CEO, marry your (as yet unknown) dream guy, and carve out some time to pop out a few kids before your ovaries shrivel up… Except all of that sounds horrendous, and you’d much rather spend the next three months at Hoseok’s beach house with your closest friends - relaxing, partying, and sleeping late while you still can. And it would be your last perfect summer break, if it weren’t for the most irritating man on the planet (and his chickens) living next door.

min yoongi

the landlord by @ppersonna (4.3k) smut/light crack/pwp

[landlord!yoongi]

summary: your air conditioner breaks right at the height of a recordbreaking heat wave. good thing your hot landlord, yoongi, knows how to attend to any needs you may have.

watermelon sugar by @yoonjinkooked (23k) smut/romcom

[strangers to lovers, vacation au]

summary: Travelling alone to your dream destination had sounded like a good idea at the time. And you don’t regret doing it, of course not - you’re in Greece! The food! The sun! The smell of the sea! The white walls and blue chairs, the hills, the warm days and colder nights. A little company wouldn’t hurt, though. That’s how you end up talking to Min Yoongi, your next door neighbour with whom you practically share a balcony. He’s quiet, he barely leaves his room but when you reach out, he doesn’t push you away. That’s how your Greek adventure begins.

jung hoseok

strawberry sundae by @youtifulhobi (6k) fluff

[lifeguard!hoseok x olympian swimmer!reader, meet cute]

summary: A few years after you begin dating Jung Hoseok, the two of you reminisce about how you met when he was a lifeguard and saved you from drowning, when in reality you had just fell off your strawberry floatie and he just wanted to talk to you.

a taste of paradise by @theharrowing (8k) light angst/smut

[strangers to lovers, chance encounters]

summary: A handsome stranger helps take your mind off of all of the drama that awaits you back home. It is bittersweet, isn’t it, how a chance encounter that makes you feel so good can also just leave you craving more.

park jimin

i need you tonight by @minisugakoobies (1.5k) smut/slight angst?

[pool boy!jimin]

summary: You’re tired of watching your evil stepmom waste your father’s money. So you steal one of her toys.

you dtf? by @sailoryooons (10.2k) smut/pwp

[strangers to one-night stand]

summary: You’ve never had a one night stand. Jimin has had countless. You’re trying to experience new things. Jimin loves doing the same old shit. So when you meet the man going around the club inviting people to touch his ripped abs, you think perhaps this is the perfect opportunity to try new things. It’s Labor Day weekend at the shore - what can go wrong?

into the wilderness by @gukyi (27k) angst/fluff/comedy

[friends to lovers, camp counsellor au, unrequited love]

summary: alright, so last summer’s camp was… disastrous. from the murky green showers to the wasps nests, it was all-around a bad time. but none of those things could be quite as catastrophic as the end-of-camp counselor campfire, when you told park jimin that you were in love with him. and if telling him was terrible, then seeing him again this summer, one year after your fruitless confession, just might be the death of you.

kim taehyung

summer feelings by @jjkeverlast (558) fluff/crack

[childhood best friends to lovers]

summary: taehyung catches you off guard during your first trip to the beach.

himbo hours by @gimmethatagustd (7k) pwp/smut/humor

[himbo!taehyung x reader, strangers to lovers]

summary: Trouble always seems to follow Taehyung. An innocent night of finding new friends to share his alcohol, drugs, and boxy smiles quickly turns into a mess when he accidentally punches you, a poor, unsuspecting clubgoer, right in the face. Whoops!

trip by @daechwitatamic (22k) fluff

[friends to lovers, camping au]

summary: Your gigantic crush on Kim Taehyung is so bad that you drop whatever you’re holding every time he speaks to you. Your dirty liar of a best friend SWORE to you he wouldn’t be on this camping trip, but he is. Luckily, the trip gives Taehyung the chance to see you in a new light, admittedly with some help from his best friend (and definitely hired spy) Park Jimin.

jeon jungkook

in which sour and salt could be so sweet when jungkook’s existence reminds you that there is still good in the world. by @onlyswan (3.1k) fluff/a pinch of angst/suggestive

[established relationship]

baecation by @1kook (5.9k) smut

[richboy!jungkook, vacation au]

summary: “Lose the top, or lose the right to present yourself in any low back gown for the next three months.” He truly knew the way to your heart.

heartless by @here2bbtstrash (7.4k) pwp/smut

[exes hooking up]

summary: after a wild summer at the shore where he made more than a few mistakes, jungkook is ready to remind you why you always take him back.

no longer strangers by @soft4gguk (9.4k) fluff/smut

[jungkook x inexperienced!reader, strangers to lovers, summer love au]

at the end of the day by @starshapedkookie (13.3k) fluff/smut/a little angst

[ex-baseball player!jungkook, high school friends to lovers, beach/vacation au]

summary: You and Jungkook have been best friends for 8 years, going through absolute hell and back together. After senior year of high school, you and Jungkook began a tradition of taking annual vacations together during the summer months. This summer is no different, with you and Jungkook celebrating graduating college just a couple months prior. You're set to move to NYC after the summer, with you and Jungkook soaking in the sun and as many moments as you can together. You'd think nothing could ever tear your friendship apart with him, but when you've sat on the beach for too many days in a row watching him surf, you can't help but wonder - when did your best friend get so hot?

lemon sherbet by @extravaguk (15k) fluff/smut/angst

[tattoo artist!&piercing artist!jungkook x popular!reader, ex high school classmates, kinda frenemies to lovers, summer au]

summary: But above all things, the last thing you expected to happen when you came back was to show your tits and get pierced by none other than motherfucking Jeon Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook. Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie.

concrete king by @bratkook (16.7k) fluff/smut

[skaterboy!jungkook x reader, himbo energy]

summary: when a cute boy in a tacky hawaiian shirt lands a trick in your honor there’s no way you could ever say no to him

ex on the beach by @beahae (mini-series, 18.2k) fluff/light angst/smut

[exes to lovers]

summary: You and Jungkook broke up. But it would be very silly of you to let the fancy beach vacation you both won go to waste, right?

stars behind waves by @taegularities (22.7k) angst/fluff/smut

[estranged childhood best friends to lovers, beach/vacation au]

summary: With a decade’s distance between Jungkook and you, your paths cross on the same island you deemed your second home years ago. And you realise once again – the ocean can never compare to the twinkle in his starry eyes.

paddle with me by @yoongsgguktae (two-shot, 30k) angst/smut

[enemies to lovers, camp counsellor au]

summary: when your camp leader forces you and jeongguk as partners in a team building activity. with frustrations and anger flaring during your journey down the river, how will all this pent-up emotion get released?

Thank you so much for taking the time to check out my list! I read some of these stories while on vacation this year, and some have stayed with me for a while since I read them last summer. If anyone has more summery recommendations, I'd love to hear them, so don't be afraid to put them in the comments or send me an ask <3

#bts fanfic #bts fic recs #namjoon fanfic #namjoon fic recs #seokjin fanfic #seokjin fic recs #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fic recs #hoseok fanfic #hoseok fic recs #jimin fanfic #jimin fic recs #taehyung fanfic #taehyung fic recs #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic recs #summer fic recs #my rec lists #ivi reads

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janahanooo · 3 months

Text

I thougth and thought and then, poof! This happened. I really like the concept of kid Yuu with a darker past, connected with the maffia in their world and then getting to know the "Fish Maffia" aka. Azul and Co.

Floyd: that- is that Shrimpy?

Jade: ...prefect?

Kid Yuu: *Is sitting near the dumpsters and looks at them suspisiouly*

Kid Yuu: ...strangers...

Jade: Ah, pardon us. Is your name perhaps Yuu?

Kid Yuu: ...oh. are you here to collect mama's dept? Mama isn't here... and I don't have the money....

Jade:

Floyd: damn. Nah, Shrimpy, we don't even know your mom

Kid Yuu: oh. Okay. "Weirdo...I'm not a shrimp..."

Azul: Jade, Floyd. May I know why is there a child version of the prefect here?

Floyd: about that boss, we have no idea too. We found them near the dumpsters at ramshakle-

Kid Yuu: are you from the maffia, sir?

Azul: ...no.

Kid Yuu: yeah, I don't believe you. I know a maffioso when I see one. And sir, you sure look like one.

Floyd: can we keep the child?

Jade: I also support the idea

Azul: oh dear sevens...

Azul: *sigh* then make yourself at home, Yuu

Kid Yuu: "how does everyone know my name? Did mama really give me up this time?"

Kid Yuu: alright sir...

Azul: and please don't call me sir, I'm not even that old

Kid Yuu: sorry si- uh, mister...

Azul:

Jade: fufu~ This will be an interessting journie

#twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland yuu #twst yuu #kid yuu #twst kid yuu #twisted wonderland azul #twst azul #twisted wonderland jade #twst jade #twst floyd #twisted wonderland floyd

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undercoverpena · 11 months

Text

the book of love

frankie morales x f!reader (bookshop!au)

summary: wiping the back of his hand across his forehead, he looks at you. “I need a book.” “You… you need a book?”

wordcount: 4k an: written solely for @wildemaven who has continuously been kind, and wonderful and let me ramble incessantly to her. i heart you. warnings: soft!frankie, meet cute, bookshop meet cute. romance. sweetness. kissing in a closed bookshop vibes.

Wednesday's don't usually bring strangers.

It brings boringness and drawn-out hours until you can lock the door and hope for a better day.

It's why he caught your eye the moment he walked in.

Tall, handsome—cap pulled down—and his hands tucked into his pockets like he’s not sure what he’s doing. He’s broad, shoulders raised to his ears, and his spine so impossibly straight you wonder if he’s purposefully trying to make himself more on edge.

Chewing the top of your pen, you observe him shuffle his cap again, trying to tuck himself away between tall shelving. Slowly suspecting it's not to hide his face, but rather to blend in.

Escape.

He’d have been able to if he didn’t stick out like a sore thumb.

Everyone (local and just in the perimeter) knows this place. It’s the privilege of being around for decades. Having once belonged to your Aunt, and now to you. A place that had felt magical when you’d run around in pirate costumes and capes, words being read to you. Now, it was magical for other reasons.

The shop was as much part of the town as the town was a part of you. A place you had once frequented in the holidays, before weekends when you could drive. Now, it was your everything. Your workplace, your business—your home.

It’s why the shop practically screams to you when someone new enters its door.

An anomaly in the usual.

Sometimes, there were a few. Inconsequential travellers, those who needed a book for their kid as they went from A to B, and sometimes a soul who needed a map to keep them from being lost. There have even been a handful of those looking to entertain themselves while they passed the time.

There was a book for everyone.

A sentiment that has been instilled in you from the moment your aunt first let you stock shelves and earn pocket money. It’s why you give him several minutes alone, letting him wander, all aimless and without reason—worn leather boots sounding in the silence usually smothered by the radio (if the speakers hadn’t conked out this morning).

It would be easier to focus on ordering, scanning down the new releases and ticking off the repeats.

Naturally, you chose the more difficult option—staring off, eyes landing on him, taking in how his features are prominent yet soft. His lips twist in confusion as he scans random shelves—a finger sliding over the spine before his eyes drop back to the tired wooden floor, moving to a new section.

You tap your pen once, twice, thrice before you abandon it—casting it somewhere close to the register as you move from around the counter. Your hands clutching, tugging at the ends of your tee, pulling it down appropriately as you round a bookshelf and find yourself in front of him.

And god, is he pretty.

“Y’need a hand… sir?”

It drops from your lips effortlessly. All well-practised from the dozen or so times you say it. But, it comes out squeakier than usual, higher pitched, all thrown off by the way his eyes swallow you whole, and his lips rise at the last addition to the sentence.

“That obvious?”

You smile—politely. Stemming back anything more, smothering the soft thudding of your heart against your ribs. “Well. You’re not from around here.”

His lips tug further up on one side, the threat of a dimple set to show—a small laugh threatening to spill and spread across his features. It’s the fact he stares that allows you to continue doing so, to keep watching the way his eyes drink you in—both of you standing awkwardly in the non-fiction section of the tranquil and empty store.

Whatever he wants to say, he chews on it.

His hand pushes the bill of his worn hat up, scratching at his hairline, glimpses of curls gracing the top of his forehead before they’re hidden away once again.

“How’d you know?”

Shrugging, you adjust your stance. “Only bookshop in this town for decades, and you don’t know the layout.”

“Maybe I like wandering around aimlessly.”

It’s your turn to laugh. Louder than his—braver. “No. No, you don’t, but that’s cute. What’re you after?”

“Something to keep my hands busy.”

You blink back the comment on your tongue—the insinuation—trying not to glance down at the hand hanging at his side. The one so large, all thick-fingered and just dormant.

Swallowing, you nod, absently pretending to think up a solution as you bite the inside of your cheek. “You thinking DIY, vehicle fixing or home renos?”

“Not vehicles,” he says quickly—almost too quickly.

“Alright, let’s see if DIY has something for you.”

It does.

Your hands slide over spines as you read the titles until one hand envelopes yours—cocooning around yours on the edge of a book.

That one.

He said it much lower, eyes laser-locked on yours.

When he’s paid, he lingers at the counter. Your mind still reeling from the warmth of his hand, the spark it sent up your wrist, to your shoulder and down your spine.

It isn’t until he whispers a shy thanks, heading to the door before cautiously closing it behind him does your brain think of anything but his hands. Then it’s his smile—soft, almost lazily sent through the glass.

A part of you, which is only bold when the moment has passed, wishes you’d said something more. Got his name, flirted. Hell, even made him linger for another ten minutes to see if you could get him to laugh like he did at the shelves.

Unfortunately, you have to swallow it.

Because it’s rare to see a stranger return, even if they say they’re happy with the service. Most of the time, the town is a stop for them—a way to rest before continuing on their way.

Unlike with those before him, you rarely remember their faces—just a rough account of the book they bought.

Him, you remember. If you could draw, you’d be able to sketch how his veins stood out on the back of his hand when he took the book from you. The shape of his eyes and the swirls of gold mixed with the shades of brown when he’d adjusted his cap.

You linger in it, the memory of how your skin felt under his gaze, allowing yourself secret seconds of wishful thinking when he walks in.

So much so, you blink.

Fingers pinching the skin at your wrist—unsure if it’s a mirage or real. Bearing down in the skin, until it begins to more than hurt.

He’s here—the mysterious hat-wearing DIYer.

It takes you by such surprise, you almost drop the gum from your tongue. Your mind emptying of all the practised moments in your heads—the ones where you’d only had the chance to see him again in a make-believe world.

This isn’t make-believe. It’s real.

Words, so usually able to sprout, vanish. Crumble. Turning into ash in the depths of your mind—new ones struggling to form as heat rises in your cheeks.

It’s quick to dawn on you how out of practice you are, how irregular it is. Good-looking men (you’d almost flirted with) don’t tend to return to the shop. They don’t hover in the space between the shelves and your register.

But he is.

Standing. All nearly six-foot of him, staring at you like you’re the only thing that could quench a drought.

“Twice in one month?”

“What can I say?” he says, scratching the back of his neck, knocking his hat ever so slightly—allowing peppered-brown curls to show. “You sell good books.”

“I sell the same books as other shops, but thank you….”

“Francisco—Frankie. I’m Frankie.”

It flutters out: a smile. Letting it hang on your face, blissfully breathing, the two of you lost in the centre of acoustic music crackling through your somewhat fixed speaker.

“So, Francisco, what you looking for today? Still wanting to keep your hands busy?”

The look he sends you makes your ears and cheek burn. Worsening more so as he doesn’t tear his eyes away from you, a reply sitting on the edge of his tongue—likely trapped behind his teeth.

You’re holding your breath. For what, you’re not sure. A response. Something.

Almost filling the silence with a throat clear, a rap of your knuckles, a tap of your nails, but the bell for the door chimes instead, your eyes ripping from him to the familiar face of Miss Fell from the coffee shop.

He promises to come back in the future, but promises are so easy to break, that you don’t hold on to them.

It’s why it’s harder to control when you see him in the doorway, your lips already curling, eyes studying every inch of him as he strolls over—cap positioned as usual, faded yellow-ish jacket, a similar overtly-washed tee and denim jeans.

Eyes lock with his through the space in the romance section—ironic, if you say so yourself—your arms full of hardbacks, shoulders burning, near screaming.

You only focus on the tension, how it thickens, breathes. It crawls out from the walls and thrums to the beat of whatever is playing on the local station. You need it for restocking—the more uptempo beats aiding your mission of ferrying books from one side to the other.

Frankie’s eyes travel to them, the boxes half-open behind the counter and the trolley you’ve abandoned—the one which had been squealing in protest across the floor, working against you rather than with you.

“Hi.”

“Hey, hermosa.”

It drips from his tongue as though he’s called you it before. Instead of trying it for the first time.

He's used your name, the one given freely; he's also used the nickname you'd handed him after a few more visits, the one friends and family call you.

Today, it seems he'd rather call you something which kisses the air with intention and makes your stomach flutter.

“You visit the town a lot for saying you don’t live here.”

“I live in the next town over—so, just a short drive.”

He says it casually, and you almost believe him if not for the fact you know the distance.

“Well, something keeps making you repeatedly visit—lemme guess, it’s my book recommendation, isn’t it?”

It’s bold, maybe too much so.

The words form and leave your tongue before you can even reconsider them. So sweet, far too rich—more daring than you’d usually let escape when working.

It’s out there now, billowing in the space between you as he comes around the shelving, your hand pausing on the hardback's spine as you look up to find his stare.

He’s smiling.

Leaning his shoulder against the shelf, arms folded across his chest as his eyes burrow.

“Partly.”

You place the books, adjusting the shelving. “Only partly? Guess I need to step up my bookselling game if other things are getting you to come back.”

He keeps his eyes on you, but there’s something there. It ripples, going against the beat of the tension—standing out like an ink stain on a plain white tee.

“I’m… I’m going to meetings held out the town hall.” He mumbles, smile fading with each word, the confession gracing the air with so much softness it’s as though he’s hoping to cast it to you gently. “Got into some shit, but I’m getting clean now—was stupid… bad. Just wanted to… get a handle on it without everyone gossipin’ about it.”

You nod, trying to find the balance between not staring and meeting his gaze. A careful balance is needed for such a confession that you’re not entirely sure you’re capable of achieving.

“That’s… that’s really good, Francisco, that you’re wanting to, y’know put the work in.”

“Frankie,” he interrupts.

As he has done every time you call him that.

“Please call me Frankie, Hermosa.”

It’s hard to hide that he makes your throat tighten, especially when he lets his new name for you fall so delicately from his tongue.

A bouquet of warmth blooms in your chest, a sea of it crashing down and soaking you from head to toe.

“I just mean,” you murmur, watching him tilt his head to look at you, doing so with kind eyes and a warm smile. “I—I don’t judge you… we all make mistakes.”

He smiles a little wider. “Thanks, Hermosa. I… I appreciate you saying that”

“If you keep calling me beautiful, I’m gonna keep calling you Francisco.”

“Well, what else can I call you when you look as pretty as you do?”

Burn. You burn.

Heat floods your cheeks, and you’re sure he must feel it. Purposefully casting your eyes to the side, turning to pick up more books from the floor.

But his remain. Fixated. Intentional. Busy consuming and swallowing all the things around the two of you, until it's just the two of you that remain.

Not that you mind, care. You only see him.

The world around you both a little dimmer, the music a little quieter, as if everything is tuned into him. The man in the cap with the beautifully, stunning eyes.

“You keep flirting with me, and I’ll drop all my books.”

He wipes his hands on his jeans, gesturing to you to hand him some of the load. “Just so I can keep flirting.”

“You don’t have to…”

He gestures again, more purposefully.

Pursing your lips, you surrender. Seeing how much he wants to, allowing his fingers to brush down your forearms as he takes them and trying not to shiver under the intensity of it.

It’s harder to ignore the spark, the one lit, running through you to light fireworks in your stomach that’ll explode in your bones, in your nerves—all over your goddamn body.

“Francisco…”

“Hermosa.”

If tension were a gas, there’d be no air to breathe.

All poison. No oxygen. You think you’d swallow it all the same, gallop it back to keep your eyes locked on his—feeling your ears burn similarly to your cheeks and chest.

“They go in that space down there,” you say. “You might have to bend over, y’know, to get them to sit nicely.”

He grins, wicked—daring. It’s accompanied by a lot of teeth and a wide smile. Pretty—handsome.

“Should have let you do these ones, huh?”

You bite the inside of your cheek, trying not to let your brain run away with itself. Unsure if you can let yourself believe that something akin to a rom-com could currently happen to you.

“Don’t think the sight would be as good as the one I have.”

His eyes cast up at you, a mischievous glint to them he immediately banishes. “Now, who’s flirting.”

In time, you come to expect him. Only on a Wednesday, never another time.

So much so, you don’t glance at the door longingly when the bell chimes. You don’t brace for the smile that blossoms when you spot him (irrespective of whether he’s brought you a coffee or a baked good).

Today, unfortunately, isn’t a Wednesday.

Just a regular, non-Francisco day that you wish would bleed into another. Having spent many times between his visits planning, plotting—full-blown award-winning speeches re-enacted for the next time you see him.

There have been ones where you ask him to go for a coffee, ask whether he’d visit you on a day that isn’t a Wednesday. Getting tired of just waving him off, watching him shoot you a final smile as he headed to his truck.

It’s stuck with you, that feeling.

Knots inside, mangled together with other moments you replay and wish you could change when you should be sleeping. So many missed moments, shoulda-woulda-coulda, you don’t want him to be added to the pile.

Today, more so. It always is after a heavier, slow and tiresome day—one which stifles all your usual happiness and excitement of being in a place you love.

Dragging your feet, fingers flicking the lights off, you watch as the window spotlights extinguish the displays you’d worked on to keep busy. Moving to the door, fingers reaching to turn the sign, twist the lock—

He’s here.

All flushed cheeks, mouth open.

Francisco’s hand clutches the handle, bending at the hip as he swallows mouthfuls of air—holding a finger up.

One minute.

He’s rushed—actually rushed to get here.

Pulling on the handle, slowly letting the town air seep in as he slowly stands.

“Hey?”

“You… you shutting?”

“I was about to.”

Wiping the back of his hand across his forehead, he looks at you. “I need a book.”

“You… you need a book?”

He nods, hands falling to his lower back, stretching.

“Come on in then.”

You have to give it to him. He pretends to glance at the shelves for several minutes before he pulls something from a stand without staring. His performance does allow you to close off your computer and tidy up around your desk before he places a book on your desk.

“Woodworking?”

He shrugs, adjusting the front of his cap, palm smoothing over his forehead as fingers tuck away his curls. “Considering it is all.”

You nod, scanning it as it pops up on the till—your hand reaching for a bag as you feel his eyes sitting on you. They’re heavy—weighty.

It makes you warm, standing under his stare. Something close to the sun, making you turn into it as a smile falls passively across your lips.

“You know, one day, you’re gonna have to show me what you’ve been building with the number of books you’ve bought.”

It’s an off-hand comment, a playful one.

It lands, but not in the way you’d hoped.

His eyes searing, as though urging you to hear words he isn’t saying as you take the money from his extended hand. Words you would hear if he even whispered them due to the quietness—shop all closed and locked except for the two of you.

You’d expected him to be playful, like last time—more jokes, having found more comfort. But, if anything, it was like the first time he’d walked in, hands stuffed in his pocket, shoulders close to his ears.

He pauses, the brown bag lying on the counter and not in his fist, like usual. Your hand remains over the till, one note still in hand as you glance at him.

“That everything?”

“No.”

It’s soft.

More whispered than exclaimed. Yet, it makes your throat tighten—eyes fixate on him a little more intensely. Taking him in differently than you usually do.

Usually, you linger over the way his nose slopes, how his eyes always have a twinkle in them—that a few wisps of hair poking out underneath the bill of his cap. That he wears earthy shades and smells of sea salt mixed with cedar, a mysterious scent that lingers even when he’s gone.

Now, you focus on how his eyes are a little wider, soaking you in rich brown, wearing hesitancy across his broad shoulders and tight-lipped face.

You say nothing, both not able to nor wanting to.

“I… I want to kiss you.”

It’s hard to ignore the way heat blooms across your cheeks, focussing on stuffing the note haphazardly in the drawer before you close it. Fingers resting, lingering on the metal seal as you swallow. “Didn’t realise my knowledge of books could be so endearing?”

He smiles, but it’s full of nerves.

Plastered to bring you some ease—you suppose—his hand lifting his cap a little higher. “Well, I’m not buying all these books because I’m still trying to keep my hands busy, Hermosa.”

“No?”

“No,” he whispers.

You don’t think. Your feet just begin moving, forcing you from behind the counter to the place beside him. You’re so close; you can see the way the last few spotlights over the counter are reflecting in his pupils—see the shadow of yourself in his darkening eyes.

It’s your turn to be nervous, for trembling fingers to tease the edge of his open shirt, bristling under his gaze as you slowly lift your chin to—

You feel them, his lips.

Chapped, but yet still soft, warm. Feeling them slide against yours in well-versed movements as though this isn’t the first time the two of you have done this. Something mushrooms in your chest expands out as you slide your tongue to taste it, lick it all away—all the nerves, the built-up anxiety. The two of you settle, falling into a steady rhythm that dances close to pent-up frustration.

At some point, his cap falls to the floor, your fingers woven in his peppered curls as your back presses into the wooden counter. He’s precise, cautious—not pressing you too intently, allowing you room to leave, but not enough to get the idea he doesn’t want this.

Doesn’t want you.

He does.

He shows it with his fingers, etching them across your hip. Hands, large and littered with callouses, wrap and pinch you over your clothes, telling stories you’re not listening to currently.

Briefly, between soft, muted moans, do you think about how they’d feel on your bare skin. How his fingers would feel curled inside you, those eyes searing into you as he whispers that you’re doing so well—just like he did when he first heard about you running the place yourself.

“Frankie…”

It escapes, the nickname.

The one he’s told you to use each time you call him Francisco. The one you think of when you’re alone, simmering and blistering on the tip of your tongue when your thin bed sheet covers your bare thighs.

Then, Frankie pulls back—something flooding you that isn’t relief, but rather disappointment.

“Oh,” you mumble. “I’m… I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean.…”

It trails off. Not sure what to apologise for, least of all when you don’t mean it. Swiping your tongue across your lower lip, tasting the mint of his gum and the coffee he’s tried to hide with it, loosening your fingers from his curls, dropping your arm until it hangs pointlessly beside you.

But he doesn’t let go.

Doesn’t step back. Thankfully.

He just stares in utter bewilderment like he’s in a dream rather than reality.

“I should have taken you for dinner.”

“What?”

He swallows, blinking—coming back to.

It happens more suddenly, him stepping back, scooping his cap from the ground and replacing it back like a crown upon his head.

He’s shy again—nervous. It radiates from him, flushing his cheeks more than the minute-ago make-out session the two of you just endured.

“I was—fuck, I was supposed to ask you to go out for dinner before….”

“Before?”

Tilting his head, his lips slope up into a cheek. “Before I groped you like some horny teen. You deserve better—more. You deserve more. A nice meal, a fucking conversation and….”

“I like pizza.”

He pauses, blinking. “Y-yeah?”

Nodding, you smile. Rolling your lips until you’re biting down, unsure—suddenly shifting on the spot. “I can… I know a place—they deliver. We can, can just hang here or go upstairs.”

“Upstairs?”

It grows into a grin, the smile you’d been trying to hold back. “Yeah, I live above the shop, Frankie.”

And he’s in front of you again, resuming the minimal space the two of you had before. Both of his hands cup your cheeks, thumb brushing the skin—eyes burning into yours, no longer bubbling with nervousness.

“Say it again.”

“Wha—“

“My name. Please, Hermosa.”

Tilting your face ever so slightly, you lick your lips—his eyes watching how the tip of it does so. “Frankie.”

He groans, low—guttural, almost swallowed back but somehow escaping—before, in one swift movement, his lips are married back to yours. It’s different, more confident—dizzyingly so.

Your legs wobbling a little as the counter managed to support you, every other sense tuning into him and just him. Almost demanded so, by him.

His teeth nip, pressing against you as you feel how hard he is against you, as one of his hands drops to your waist. Almost tempted to slide your hand over the zipper, to squeeze—to tease him even further—

“Ah, man, it’s closed.”

The two of you pause, freezing.

Eyes both glancing through one of the shelves at the door, the person hovering, waiting—as though expecting the shop to suddenly open as they arrived. You will them to leave, eyes clenching, until you slowly open one, then the other.

Frankie doesn’t turn back at first, not until it’s truly silent—the two of you alone again. But, you remain cupping his cheek, the other on his arm—fingers barely fitting around his bicep that flexes as he turns his head.

You can hear it, your heart pounding—worsening when his eyes lock with yours, dancing from one to the other.

“I—“

“Do you want me to show you upstairs?”

His hand slides from your waist, scratching the back of his neck. “I shouldn’t….”

“Oh. Yeah, okay, I get it—“

“I don’t want to just… fuck you, Hermosa.”

Your lips clamp shut, throat tightening as you take a struggled breath.

“You hear me? I want—“

“You want pizza, a tour and then….” you whisper, so soft it barely greets the air, watching him fill in the dots, the blanks.

His cheeks flush, eyes narrowing before widening, making you smile wickedly.

an: this was my first ever time writing for him, so pls be nice and lovely and kind. k thanks.

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